Alexander_Wooing_Ot.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
A COLD, dull evening toward the end of February was
slowly closing in slowly, and with the indescribable melan-
choly which hangs around those lengthening evenings of
early spring, when winter seems but more wintry from the
cole 1 prolonged light. A cynical east wind was sweeping the
du?*. ana straws, and shavings into little eddies, with bitter
playfulness. The poor little crossing-sweeper at the end of
Edge ware Road, near the Marble Arch, had retired under the
lee of a projecting front door near his beat, in company with
a blind man and his shivering dog all three evidently
despairing of human aid. The lamps were gradually shining
out, and in the chemist's shop near the corner of Beverly
Street, a grimy little errand-boy was lighting the gas, which
brought the big green and purple jars into favorable contrast
to the outer gloom.
The chemist's shop occupied what had been the front
parlor of the house in its palmy days, when Beverly Street
had been the genteel residence of well-to-do professional
families, and even boasted ready furnished houses, which
were not unfrequently tenanted by country M. P.'s during the
session. Beverly Street had never been grand and aristocratic,
but eminently genteel ; and now, even in its decadence, no
butchers' or green-grocers' shops defiled its gradual decline,
neither did fish-mongers pollute it. But occasional Berlin-
wool repositories, stationers, and circulating-library establish-
4 THE WOOING O'T.
ments, and the chemist's above mentioned, intruded themselves
into the front parlors first occupied by the refined wives and
daughters of eminent barristers and physicians of courtly
fame.
The shop in question had a certain air of antiquity, if dingy
paint and dust, semi-effaced inscriptions on the inevitable
hundred and fifty little drawers, and the half-empty look of
the glass cases, which should have bristled with cosme'tiques.
pastilles, corn-eradicators, soothing-syrups, tooth-brushes, and
" Bloom de Ninon " whatever that may be if, I say, such a
condition confers an air of antiquity, the shop of " Grey,
Pharmaceutical Chemist," as the inscription above it ran,
possessed that air.
Within, while the grimy errand-boy lit the gas, the owner of
the shop a tall and rather good-looking man, with a loose,
gaunt figure, and indifferent attire, carpet slippers, and a chin
which had evidently not known the razor that day at any rate
leaned over the counter, talking to a stout, voluble, well-
dressed individual, with bright, quick eyes and an emphatic
forefinger.
Behind the shop high tea was proceeding. The back
parlor was even more dingy and dusty and half-furnished
than the shop. A faded Brussels carpet, black horse-hair
covered chairs and sofa, curtains that once were green, a
bookcase turned into a cupboard, its glass doors lined with
green glazed calico, the better to hide the tea and sugar,
bread, and pickles, Worcester sauce, and cream gin which
lurked behind ; a large table, set with cups and saucers and
plates, bread and butter, and other viands, occupied the
center ; a kettle, black and furry with the smoke of ages,
sung and steamed upon a passably bright fire.
A stout lady presided over the teapot stout, and not
uncomely, with a fair allowance of corkscrew curls at each
side of her face the face itself being broad, and redeemed
from plainess by a resolute and rather acquiline nose. She
glanced round with a sharp look in her light, quick eyes (not
pleasant or attractive eyes, but very wide awake), and hastily
tying back the bright red ribbons of her black lace cap, that
they might not dip into tea or butter, said to the other inmates
of the apartment, " Come, now, don't dilly-dally when your
victuals are ready."
The other inmates were two girls with long crimpled hair
hanging down their backs ; one high-shouldered and lanky,
the other stout and dumpy ; both in the transition stage
THE WOOING OT. S
between childhood and womanhood. Both obeyed the sum-
mons, the first dropped a crinoline she had been repairing,
the other rising from the hearth-rug, where she had been
tormenting the kitten. They took their evidently accustomed
places, and proceeded to help themselves to the bread and
butter, a pile of which occupied the middle of the table.
" Where are the boys ? " asked the mother.
" Tom hasn't come'in yet, and Dick is down stairs helping
Maggie with the lamp," replied the youngest girl.
" She's a stupid thing not to understand it by this time :
and indeed, if the gas had been laid on as I wanted, and
begged and prayed a'most on my bended knees, a year ago,,
what a save it would have been, both in money and trouble *
But there is no use talking. Go, call your pa, Bell ; he has
been gossiping this hour with some of his scientific friends,
that never buy so much as a box of cold cream at least that
pay for one."
The elder girl rose and opened the door of communication
with the shop ; she returned immediately, saying, " Pa will
come directly."
" Look for my handkerchief, Jemimar ; I dropped it some-
where. I wish they would bring that lamp ; for though the
evenings do lengthen wonderfully, it's blind man's holiday.'*
So saying, and having replenished her cup a second time,
she filled up the teapot with a lavish hand. As she did so,
the door leading into the house opened, and a boy of thirteen
or fourteen a pale, dirty-faced boy, with legs too long for his
trousers, and arms too long for his jacket-sleeves came in,
holding with both hands a moderator lamp. He was followed
by a girl, a slight girl, rather below the middle height, not
lanky, however, but rounded rather than thin ; she was poorly
dressed in a dark stuff, somewhat the worse for wear, rubbed
shiny in places, yet fitted neatly to her waist, while her \hite
linen cuffs and hair soft brown hair, between light and dark,
neatly parted, and drawn smoothly back into a thick roll
behind showed well by contrast with the untidiness of the
people and the place. The mistress of the house, Mrs. Grey
in short, looked a trifle harder and sharper as her eyes fell on
her. " Your tea has been ready this hour," she said. " I'm
sure if I had been so often about a thing as you have, Mag-
gie, about that lamp, I would not want help with it keeping
Dick from his food all this time ! "
" I did not want help with it, aunt," replied Maggie, " only
6 THE WOOING OT.
to carry it up stairs, for it is very heavy. Dick chose to stay
and wa'tch me he was anything but a help."
M And that's all the thanks you get," cried his mother, " for
saving Miss Margaret Grey's nice cuffs from being soiled
Your uncle's daughters, miss, can't treat themselves to such
elegancies."
" Well, aunt, I wash and iron them myself, so I suppose I
have a right to wear them," returned the girl, wearily rather
than defiantly.
" Who pays for the starch, I'd like to know ? " was the tri-
umphant rejoinder.
Maggie half opened her lips very pretty, soft-looking lips,
and a little tremulous just then but closed them, closed them
resolutely, and applied herself to cutting a slice of bread from
the loaf instead of helping herself to one of the buttered slices,
as the door opened and Mr. Grey entered. He dropped into
'his usual place unnoticed, save by Maggie, who handed him
Jus tea and drew the bread and butter within his reach.
" Thank you, my dear, thank you," said the head of the
house absently, not seeing who was attending to his wants.
" I have just been talking to old Mr. Shepherd a most intel-
ligent and enlightened individual and I quite agree with
him that the cause of science was never so prosperous
as "
** I am sure I don't know about science," interrupted Mrs.
'Grey, with no small bitterness of tone. " But there's prec-
ious little prosperity here ! And as to Mr. Shepherd, there's
pages and pages in the ledger with his name at the top of
.them, but I never can make out ' Paid ' at the bottom."
** Well, all in good time, my dear," said the chemist, with a
sort of deprecating, soothing tone, " all in good time. He is
-a man of the highest principle, and the money will be all the
-better for coming in a lump."
" Lump, indeed ! " in a tone of the greatest scorn. " It
^jives me a lump in the throat to hear you talk."
" Uncle," interposed Maggie, in a low voice, " you must
look at the paper I have been copying. I have finished it,
but I am not sure about one or two passages."
" Ha ! hum ! I hope you have made no mistakes," said
.Mr. Grey a little testily ; for it is of very great importance."
** What is it, pa ? " asked Master Dick.
**Oh ! an article on the properties of coal tar a little con-
tribution to the ' Tyburnian Literary and Scientific Jour
THE WOOING O"T. y
" Which won't be let in or paid for at any rate," grum-
bled Mrs. Grey.
" I don't care so much about that," said her husband^
resignedly, as he spread some dark-looking condiment,,
purporting to be potted herrings, with reckless thickness on-
his bread and butter. " But I do want the true theory to be
recognized ; it would create a revolution in the art of dyeing."
" Really, John," said his wife, pathetically, " it mafcr.5
me sick to hear of the importance of everything except
making your business pay ; to think of the scatter-brain
way you manage, and the bad debts you make ; your
indifference your more than culpable indifference to your
customers. Why is it you don't spend your time and labor
finding out a hair restorer, or a skin reviver, or something of
that kind, if you will be scientific, and try a lot of spirited!
advertisements, as any man of enterprise and business habits
would do, if it was only to draw custom to the shop ? But
you you never do nothing but write things that nobody reads r
and talking away as civil and pleasant to them that are deep
in your books, as to them that pay regular. I've no patience
with you \ while the children want clothes and as to me-
but it's no matter about me, though I did bring you goods
fifteen hundred pounds."
Poor John Grey fidgeted on his seat, and looked piteousTy^
and imploringly at his wife. His eldest daughter murmured,.
" Law, ma \ how you do talk \ " And Maggie, drawing a^
little closer to her uncle, cried boldly and cheerfully, " No,
indeed, aunt; many people care to read what he writes.
Didn't the editor of the Family Herald notice his letter about
chloroform, and write a most complimentary paper about it ?
And the Weekly Visitor requested further comunications ; and
"Oh, of course," interrupted her aunt, with heightened
voice and color, and pouring out some tea with a sort of
vicious rapidity. " Of course. You must always back up
your uncle in all things. You know how to get up his sleeve ;-.
but you don't blind me"
While she spoke, and unperceived by her, a young mar
entered a short, square young man, with incipient whiskers
tind mustaches, a hat rather on one side, and a short case
sticking out of one pocket of his light-grey paletot. " I say.,,,
what's the row ? " he asked, stopping in the door-way, and
leaning one shoulder against the side of it. " There you are,
at it hammer and tongs, as usual."
THE WOOIA'G O'T.
" Well, and no wonder, Tom," said Mrs. Grey, " when I see
your father letting his business go to sixes and sevens, and
he spending his time on science and all that rubbish, and
Maggie there encouraging him Maggie, that ought to be
keener after his interests than himself, considering all she
owes him."
" Well, mother, stop that ; leave the governor and Maggie
alone, do ; and give me a cup of tea." So saying the eldest
son dropped into a seat, and removing his hat, handed it to
his youngest sister to put down.
" I'll not have Mag worried," he continued, with an
Insuperable tone of patronage. " No, I won't. Oh, Margaret
pale, fair Margaret, queen of my soul, etc., etc., deign to
give me the bootjack."
" Deign to get it for yourself," returned Margaret, with
supreme contempt.
Mrs. Grey was suddenly quieted. If science was hey
husband's weak point, Master Tom was hers. Even the
better-informed, higher-toned father thought Tom a fine
fellow, only a little wild, like other young men ; and hoped
that by-and-by he would rise to be an ornament to the noble
profession of which he was a student.
To Maggie he was simply intolerable and offensive to the
last degree ; but he was not actively unkind, not intentionally
wounding only after the nature of creatures like him, when
a thing weaker, and poorer, and more defenceless than him-
self was to be found, it became almost a necessity to insult
and show his superiority to it.
"Any news of the widow ? " asked Tom, himself not quite
twenty, but already blase from experience and third-rate dissi-
pation.
*" Oh, Tom ! I saw her stepping into a brougham as I was
'going out to school this afternoon," cried the elder girl ; " and
she had such a dress on violet moire, and a velvet cloak all
trimmed with sable, and a green velvet bonnet, and my !
xvrhat boots and gloves ! She must be ever so rich ! "
" I wonder would she stand a fiver, if a fellow told her he
was hard up," said Tom.
" You ought to try ; screw up your courage, and ask her,' ;
said Maggie, who had no great respect for her cousin's pluck.
" You should ask her for him," said Dick. " You are the
favorite."
" Yes," chimed in Jemimah ; she was asking for you
lo-day, when you were out at the butcher's."
THE WOOING O'r.
Maggie laughed. " I might ask it for my uncle ; " I
certainly will not for Tom."
" Now, isn't that cruel ? " said Tom.
The widow was a lady who, about three weeks previously,
had taken the drawing-room floor, which had lain vacant for
many months, to Mrs. Grey's despair.
She paid regularly, though inclined to drive a hard bargain ;
and moreover, having had a cold and sore throat, had called
in Mr. Grey, and run up a very fair account for mixtures and
gargles. She was good-looking and young that is, perhaps.
old-looking for twenty-five, or young looking for thirty-five.
Dressed very grandly ; talked a good deal of her solicitor
and stock-broker, to see whom, she said, she had come over
from the continent at that unseasonable season. She drove
out a good deal, and had very few visitors. To the chemist's,
family she seemed a goddess of beauty, wealth and fashion ;
the only drawback to whose perfections was a tendency lately
displayed to " take up with Maggie," as Mrs. Grey phrased
it. Yet for so fine a lady her habits were simple. She
usually " picked a bit " at one, or lunched while she was out,
and had tea the same hour the chemist's family had theirs.
Maggie had seen to the preparation of a loin chop and some
muffins for the drawing-room tea before she sat down to
partake of her own.
Maggie made no reply, and to aggravate her, Tom repeated,
" You are cruel, Maggie downright cruel." As he spoke
the door opened, and the maid of all woik said, "Missus
Berry would be glad to speak to Miss Grey."
' Which Miss Grey ? " asked the mistress, testily.
' I dunno', ma'am ; she said ' Miss Grey.' "
' You had better go, Bell."
'Oh no, ma ! It ain't me. It's Maggie."
'Go back to Mrs. Berry," said Mrs. Grey, authoritatively,
and ask her if it is Miss Grey or Maggie."
The last named individual flushed up, but resolutely held
her tongue.
In a few minutes the sooty servant reapppeared. " Please,
it is Miss Maggie." Whereupon there was silence for the
space of half a minute.
Maggie arose, and went to an old-fashioned mahogany
brass-bound desk, which stood on a table in the window, and
took from it some sheets of paper. " There, dear uncle, vn.1*
you just see if it is right ? and if not, I can correct it when 1
come back."
o THE WOOING O'T.
'"And pray remember there are all Tom s socks to be
darned, and a tuck to be run in Jemima's pettcoat," called
Mrs. Grey, as she left the room.
Once out of sight, Maggie ran hastily up stairs, to avoid
the hated sound of her aunt's voice, and knocked gently at
4he drawing-room door.
*' Come in," said a rather shrill voice. Maggie obeyed.
In a large, well-proportioned room, dimly lighted by two
candles and the fire, sat Mrs. Berry, a table before her, litter-
ed, rather than spread, with the tea equipage, sundry account-
books, and a number of bills, letters, notes, etc. A writing-
book lay open by her side, and she held a pen in her mouth.
She was a tall, slight woman, a little high-shouldered, with
very dark, almost black hair, and a pale complexion : hei
eeth were large and prominent, conveying the idea that it
\ramld cost her some trouble to close her lips completely over
tifemi j but her eyes were passably good ; and when dressed,
?*her mouth shut, and just a soupcon of color on her cheeks,
tshe was not a bad-looking woman in reality, and absolutely a
^beauty, considering she had .1,200 a year to back up her
areputation for loveliness. She was sitting as above discribed,
with, the pen at her mouth, and a puzzled, weary expression
^a iifir countenance, which cleared up wonderfully as Maggie
across the gloom of the apartment into the firelight.
" Law, my dear, why did you not come at once ? You
not think I wanted that great stupid cousin of yours ?"
" Well, no, Mrs. Berry \ but I did not like to contradict my
;aunt."
" Oh yes to be sure. I suppose they are all horrid jealous
because I notice you, Never mind, you will do the best yet.
Mow., I just want you to enter a few little things, and make
tip any book for me, and answer a note or two. It's very
=fnnny, I can do figures in my head, but I can't bear writing
=r ciphering, it makes my eyes and head ache like anything.
indeed, Sir Jacob Raven, the great English doctor in Paris,
says my brain is unusually delicate, and quite unequal to such
exertion."
" Headaches must be very unpleasant," said Maggie, sym-
pathetically, " but it seems to me far more difficult to do sums
or arithmetic in one's head than on paper."
M Never mind you set to work like a dear. Sit down,
ISfflse'.s the book." And hastily vacating her seat, Mrs. Berry
gjiscaed a neatly bound account-book before Maggie. The
first pages were sad'y blotched and scratched, but afte* a
THE WOOING OT.
certain date in the current February another hand and neater
workmanship appeared.
" I spent a lot of money yesterday," said Mrs. Berry.
taking an old envelope, scrawled over with pencil marks, out
of her pocket. " What day of the month was it yesterday ?**
"The 2 7th."
" And will to-morrow be the first of March."
" No, no, it is leap-year."
" So it is. Well, I declare if a certain person was here I'd
be .nclined to try my chance," said the widow, laughing.
" How ?" asked Maggie absently, for she was choosing a
fresh pen.
"Don't you know the privilege of leap-year, you little
goose ?" returned Mrs. Berry, playfully.
" Oh yes, of course ! The ladies may propose. I am sure
you would never do so."
" Well, I don't know ! There's a gentleman, a man in
France, has long been an admirer of mine ; but he is shy or
something and he won't speak out." Maggie laughed.
" I am quite ready, Mrs. Berry," she said.
" Well, let me see. Yesterday there was three shillings for
paper and envelopes, and two and ninepence for a pair of
gloves, one shilling for a photograph of the princess Alice,
such a sweet-looking creature ! then two shillings to the
driver. Ain't it a shame," said Mrs. Berry, interrupting
herself, " they don't charge the drivers in with the brougham ?
Have you got that down ? "
"Yes what else? "
" Eighteenpence for a plate of soup and a glass of sherry
at Verey's ; and then, what I must say J do begrudge, four-
teen shillings for two stalls at the Olympic, that I engaged for
Miss Salter and myself, and after promising to come she sends
me this note," holding up a pink morsel of paper with an
elaborate monograph in gold at the top, " saying, indeed, that
she was obliged to go to an inpromptu dance at dear Lady
Tufton's, and regretted not being able to come with me ; as
if I didn't know she had worked might and main to be askd
and has somehow got an invitation at the last moment ; ad
so I've spent my money and lost the play as well. It XE too*
bad," cried the widow, with the sound as of tears in her voice ~
" but she is no lady, for all the airs she gives herseK. And
though she is a daughter to Sir Somebody Salter, he was only
a City knight. I will never forgive her ! for you know I
could not go by myself ! To be sitting moping here, instead
z THE WOOING O'T.
of seeing the ' Lady of Lyons,' and wasting my money into the
bargain ! It is too bad ! "
" Yes, it is a great shame," said Maggie, with hearty sym-
pathy. She had once seen a play, and with her the theater
meant Elysium ; therefore to be dissappointed in such a project
was indeed bad treatment in Maggie's eyes.
The widow was touched by such evidently true feeling, and
fired with a sudden inspiration, exclaimed, " I don't see why
I should lose my money or amusement either. Suppose you
come with me ! I'm sure you look much more genteel than
that stuck-up Miss Salter ; and as far as the cab goes, she
might have made fine speeches, but she would never go halves,
not she. So just run away and put on your best frock ; it's
-only half-past six."
" Oh ! Mrs. Berry, dear Mrs. Berry," cried Maggie, blush-
ing to the eyes in a mingled agony of delight and doubt. " It
would be too enchanting to go to the theater ; but this is my
only dress, and I'm not fit to go with a lady like you."
" No other dress ! " cried Mrs. Berry with unaffected horror.
" Goodness gracious ! what a shame ! Never mind, that
shan't stop us. I have a black silk skirt, and a muslin body,
and an opera cloak, will just do you. Come, let us put away
these things and go and dress, and then," (as if it were a
great privilege) " you shall dress me."
" Oh ! how can I thank you enough ? " exclaimed Maggie.
** But my aunt ! I must ask her leave, as she is sure to be
vexed."
" I'll just send her a message. I flatter myself I pay a
good deal too regular to be refused," said Mrs. Berry, with a
toss of her head. She rang the bell, and on the appearance
of the "slavey" from below, sent her compliments to Mrs.
Grey, and would she allow Miss Maggie to go with her to the
theater, as she was disappointed of a friend who was to have
gone with her.
The space of time taken to deliver this message and carry
back the answer seemed interminable to poor Maggie,
although the energetic widow made her light a chamber can-
dle and come into her room, where she speedily set to work
to disembowel a portmanteau, and extricate the silk skirt and
muslin body from its depths.
In due course a reply came, "that Mrs. Berry was welcome
$o take Miss Maggie if she liked."
" Or any other rubbish in the house as well," said Maggie,
THE WOOING O'T. 13
with a laugh that might have been bitter had she not had the
immediate prospect of so much joy.
" Now, then, just bring the other candles, like a good girl,"
cried Mrs. Berry. " I can't see to do my hair, and you can be
changing your dress until I am ready to have mine fastened.
Why don't you pull off your frock ? " continued Mrs. Bern-,
after a moment's pause.
" Oh if you would not mind." returned Maggie, blushing
vehemently, " I should like to speak to uncle before I go
and and I will put on these things in my own little room,
and be back to fasten your dress before you are ready."
" Do as you like, child, but I would not go near those ill-
natured things, if I were you."
" My uncle is not ill-natured," said Maggie firmly ; " He has
done everything for me, and I do not care for the others."
She ran quickly from the room, depositing the skirt and
jacket in a loose bundle at the foot of the stair leading to her
" upper chamber. " She rapidly descended to the common
sitting room, where gloom sat on every brow save Mr. Grey's.
Poor Maggie felt terribly guilty as she came in, even as
though she had stolen pleasure from Bell and Jemima, and
dashed the cup of joy from her aunt's lips. How ardently
she wished they were all going to the play, provided she was
not to be with them. Poor things ! such ineffable good fortune
was not to be theirs. But Maggie felt at that moment, with
all the keenness of a generous spirit, that pleasure costs too
dear which mortifies another.
Mr. Grey alone was unmoved and absorbed in the perusal
of the sheets Maggie had left with him.
" Uncle dear ! I am obliged to go with Mrs. Berry, and
indeed I am very well pleased, but I will get up an hour
earlier to correct those sheets, if you will only mark what is
wrong in pencil."
" Thank you my dear ; they seem all right so far, I'm glad
you are going to have a treat,"
"Well ! if I was you, Mag, I'd have more spirit than to go
in that old brown stuff," said Mrs. Grey.
" A regular Cinderella, by Jove ! " sneered Tom.
" Never mind ; we all know who won in that story, " said
Maggie, with good-humored defiance. Keeping her own
counsel as to her borrowed finer)', and kissing her uncle
lovingly, she left the room.
About a quarter of an hour after, and just as the widow,
having made preliminaries to her elaborate toilel, had
14 THE WOOING O'T.
to wonder what had become of " that girl," Maggie entered
her room, so metamorphosed that Mrs. Berry started. The
white muslin body adorned with scarlet velvet bows, was
neatly drawn in at the waist by a black band. The black
silk skirt flowed in full and easy folds, and at night its shab-
biness could not be seen. In lieu of any other ornament,
some of the soft brown hair was twisted into a coronet across
her head, that lent something of stateliness to her carriage.
" Why, my goodness ! " cried the widow, " how wonderfully
my old things set you off ! You are not like the same girl !
Have you a turn for hair-dressing? I'm sure I wish you'd do
up mine the same way you do your own. There's no time
now, but you will do it some evening ? "
"Whenever you like, and as often as you like," cried Mag-
gie glowing with gratitude, as she proceeded to ' lace up ' Mrs.
Berry's dress and alter the position of a bunch of damask
roses with which her head was adorned, " I declare you have
a great deal of taste, Maggie. There, that will do : we had
better go, " cried Mrs. Berry, glancing at her looking-glass
with no small complacency. " Here, put on this opera cloak
there now you might be an earl's daughter, as far as looks
go, if we do by any chance meet any one."
So saying, Mrs. Berry carefully extinguished the candles,
first lighting one in the bedroom candlestick, and returned to
the sitting-room. " Dear, dear ! " she said, " I never thought
of asking you to take anything ! There's a drop of tea and a
bit of muffin left, but they are both stone cold now."
Margaret declared with truth that she could not eat a
morsel.
" Well, we'll have something when we come in," said Mrs.
Berry, ringing for the " slavey " whom she directed to call a
cab. " And mind you have some oysters do you care for
oysters ? " to Maggie, who said she did not. " Well, a dozen
oysters, some brown bread and butter, and a pint, no, three
half-pints, of stout ready, and the table laid, by eleven. We
may be a little later, but don't you be late."
At last they were off. The very drive in the rough rattling
cab was enchanting to look out at the gayly dressed and
lighted shops, feeling all the time that she was on the road tc
the highest enjoyment, and to Maggie a cab seemed a most
distinguished mode of conveyance something quite aristo-
cratic. True, that on reaching the temple of delight Mrs.
Berry rather tarnished the elevated feeling ; for she did not
hesitate to stand on the curbstone, in her green and gold
THE WOOING VT. 15
opera-cloak, and haggle over sixpence with the cabman. At
last, however, the magic portals were passed, and almost dizzy
with the transition from the sordid gloom of Beverly Street to
the brilliancy of a well-filled, well lighted house, Maggie took
her place beside her patroness, and became at once absorbed
in the rather insipid dialogue going on between a smart ser-
vant girl and a heavy groom, which formed a large ingredient
in a small farce that served to " lift the curtain," as out
neighbors say, and to give time for the august stars who were
to shine forth in the principal piece to arrive.
" Look ! there is a curious toilette in the left-hand stage*
box," said Mrs. Berry, who rather piqued herself on her
French. But Maggie was too much absorbed to pay attention
to such trifles, In the interval before "The Lady of Lyons "
began, she was conscious that an elderly gentleman, with very
white hair, and a red face, came into a seat next Mrs. Berry,
and that she talked rather eagerly to him ; but she did not
heed what they said. It was this :
" Why ! I never expected to see you here, Mr. Dunsford,"
began Mrs. Berry.
" I am rather surprised at it myself," he returned ; " But I
have a sister and her daughter up from the country, so I must
show them the lions. You are not alone, I suppose ? "
" No, indeed ! " in rather an injured tone. " This young
lady is with me as a great treat."
Mr. Dunsford scanned Maggie rather closely.
" Nice girl." he whispered ; " quiet, genteel. Well, Mrs.
Berry, the sale of those houses is nearly arranged. I think
we may release you in about a fortnight. You must think
how you would like to place the money."
" I'm sure I can't tell something that pays well and is
safe."
" Not so easy to find, my dear lady. Ah. here's the owner
of the place coming back. I'll try and call upon you to-
morrow, about five. I want to talk to you about one or two
matters. Good-evening." And Dunsford dragged himself
back to his place, past the intervening seats bristling with
crinoline, taking another searching look at Maggie as he went.
But of this, of everything in the real world, she was soon
unconscious and oblivious. Her heart throbbed only for the
joys and sorrows of Claude Melnotte and Pauline, until that
terrible dark curtain fell, and blotted out a world of love and
fancy, trial and triumph of nobility, generosity and poetical
justice : and our disenchanted little Maggie was carried back
1 6 THE WOOING O'T.
to the sordidness of everyday life, and the not very exhilarating
occupation of cutting bread and butter for Mrs. Berry to con-
sume with her oysters.
CHAPTER II.
THE next morning was cold and raw, with an occasional
fall of frozen rain.
The chemist's family had scattered to their usual avoca-
tions ; but the paterfamilias good easy soul had availed
himself of the untoward state of the weather to indulge in an
extra half-hour's doze, and was consequently late, for which
ne had received a stern rebuke from his wife, and she now
watched him with an unbending aspect, as he buttered his
toast and sipped his tea.
" Things are coming to a pretty pass," she said at length.
" There was Miss Maggie out till nearly twelve o'clock last
night, amusing herself at the theater ; and my daughters off
to bed at ten, night after night, without an out or a change of
any kind from one year's end to another."
" It was not her doing," said the chemist meekly. " You
would not have disobliged Mrs. Berry by refusing to let Mag-
gie go, I suppose ? "
" Oh, you are always supposing something. But I want to
know what she sees in that girl to prefer to ours ? I am sure
there's far more style about Jemima, let alone Bell."
" Yes, to be sure," said the father ; " but then they are
younger ; not such companions for a woman of Mrs. Berry's
age."
" Well, whatever it may be, I'll not stand such goings-on in
my house. If I was Maggie I'd go out as a nursery gover-
ness or a nursery maid, rather than live upon an uncle who
has mouths enough to fill."
" Why, my dear," said Mr. Grey, setting down his cup in
no small surprise. " I thought you would not hear of such a
thing. Why, when Miss Marshall offered to take her as a
pupil teacher to fit her for earning her own bread, you said
she would learn more and be of more use with you than at
school. And now I think it cruel to reproach the poor girl,
for really I don't see what she can do but write and cipher."
" And read novels," said Mrs. Grey, with a sneer. " I am
sure the time she wastes "
THE WOOING O'T. 17
M All vourfg people are alike," sighed Mr. Grey. " But I
cannot forget the solemn promise I gave her poor mother
when she was dying, that I would never desert her child."
" Well, and who wants you to desert her ? " asked Mrs.
Grey. " Haven't I put up with her patiently ? ay, with the
patience of a saint ! All I want you to do is to keep her in
her place. She's not a bad girl ; but she won't bear having,
her head turned."
" Where's Tom ? " asked the chemist, as a diversion.
" He has rather a headache," said Mrs. Grey with a little
hesitation. " So I let him have a cup of tea in his bed.
And, would you believe it ? Maggie refused to take him up
his breakfast ! "
" Well, perhaps she was right ; you forget these children
are young men and women now."
" No, I don't forget," said Mrs. Grey. " And that's just
one of the things that makes me think it would be better if
Maggie were away. She's such a provoking minx ; so cool,
that she always seems to get the better of one."
The chemist heaved a deep sigh ; but as he was about to
speak, the errand-boy opened the shop-door and shouted,
" wanted, sir ! " Whereupon Mr. Grey, considerably relieved,
shuffled away in his carpet slippers. As soon as he was gone,
Mrs. Grey proceeded, with some celerity and much noise, to
wash up the tea things, and then she dusted the room and
swept up the fire place. All this, with an expression of
gloom and uncertainty on her brow. She was evidently puz-
zled, and when she had finished these labors she pulled forth
from a lower division of the book-case a large basket full of
socks, more or less dilapidated, and drawing one on her hand,
sat lost in thought. To her entered Maggie, pale and heavy-
eyed with the unwonted excitement of the night before.
" Oh, let me, aunt ! " she exclaimed with a sort of dim de-
sire to atone for her good fortune.
" There, then, take them ; I want to go out," said Mrs.
Grey, quietly, and vacating her seat for Maggie, she left the
room.
Maggie took up the sock her aunt had left, and set diligent-
ly to work, running parallel lines of wonderful regularity to
and fro, with the ease and accuracy induced by long practice,
while her thoughts wandered far away ; first dreamily, to the
vivid touching scenes on the night before, and the renewed
sharpness they had lent to the longing she so often felt to
love andbe beloved to be of importance to any living crea-
iS THE WOOING ffT.
ture. So, by a natural transition she thought of her mother
who was the ideal of her memory the deepest, the only love
of her heart. The grace and beauty and tenderness that
memory recalled had, however, very homely surroundings ;
still how dear and hallowed was the picture conjured up ! A
small shop, low and not very well lighted, with a wide low
window, and a door, half glass, opening into the paved street
of an old cathedral town, picturesque with pointed gables,
projecting windows, and queer, vane-topped turrets.
Within, a store of bright-colored Berlin wool and beads,
canvas and crochet patterns, a moderate supply of fancy sta-
tionery, and a little pile of publications from the Religious
Tract Society, all presided over by a slight, graceful woman,
with soft blue eyes, looking tenderly out from under a widow's
cap, which just gave a glimpse of the fair hair gathered be-
neath it. A woman who moved gently, but quickly, to and
fro, in her long black garments, and was so much a gentle-
woman in manner and dealing that the wives of the Church
dignitaries even Mrs. Dean herself when they entered that
little den-like repository, treated its mistress like one of them-
selves. And then Maggie saw herself returning from school,
where she went each morning with undeviating punctuality,
her little satchel in her hand, looking joyfully for the loving
welcome she always knew awaited her in words and tender
inquiries as to her conduct and progress during the day, if the
little shop was empty, and in a silent kiss, if customers de-
manded the widow's attention. While the grand ladies from
the close would notice her condescendingly, and observe,
*' How your little girl grows, Mrs. Grey ! She will soon be a
help to you." And then the delightful tea, in a tiny back
parlor that looked over a garden belonging to one of the
large houses on the city walls ; a little shrine of love and
peace, where the mother would sit through the quiet winter's
evening sewing diligently, and Maggie, after conning her les-
sons, would read to her or help her in her work ; or better
still, in the long summer days, take sunset rambles by the
river side, and drink in the loveliness of the scene, where the
old cathedral towers and the rugged red walls of the castle
stood out, marvelously beautified by glorious evening hues.
Ah ! sweet dreams sweet memories ! For all the small
childish troubles and rebellions were blotted out of sight, and
only the delicious rest and security of entire love and trust
remembered. And working mechanically on, large, slovf
THE WOOING O'T. 19
tears dropped upon the sock as she thought, and the pretty
little head, with its simple coil of brown hair, drooped lower,
the curve of neck and shoulder the very pose of the hards
all bespeaking such despondency.
Maggie was the only child of the chemist's younger brother
a handsome, clever, useless individual who, at the outset
of his career (as an artist) intended to rival Sir Joshua Rey-
nolds. After passing through the various stages of high
hopes and pretensions, jealousy of inferior competitors, neg-
lected merit, and unconquerable ill-luck, which invariably
await sensitive, boneless geniuses of his class, he became a
drawing-master of some reputation, and great popularity
among his young lady pupils, being gentle and chivalric in
manner, and certainly good-looking.
In this capacity he met a young lady, the pupil teacher in
a large school. She was the penniless orphan daughter of a
clergyman, a man of gooc 1 . but decayed family, and had been
placed, through the charity of friends and relations, in a semi-
fashionable establishment, with the intention of fitting her to
earn her own living.
She pleased the artistic and fastidious eye of William Grey ;
while she, poor young thing, was soon utterly captivated by
his gentleness genius, wrongs, and beauty. The charitable
friends and relations, truly delighted to get the burden shifted
on to other shoulders, nodded their respectable heads, be-
stowed their paternal benedictions, and presented the young
couple with a large Bible and small tea-service, and so washed
their hands handsomely of the concern ; except one old rep-
robate, who had been a long time in India ; he gave the bride-
groom a box of cigars and twenty pounds to the bride ; but
then he died not long after, and only lft enough to bury him
" decent."
To do the artist justice, he only wanted the fair, gentle
girl himself ; and so they lived on together for a few scram-
bling, pinched, happy years ; always going to make some
great hit, and be rich and luxurious, but somehow never mak-
ing it.
Till one hot summer, Willie Grey, as he was generally
called, stayed out very late sketching in Richmond Park, and,
moreover, tempted by heat and thirst, partook largely of half-
ripe plums at a fruit-stall. There was a good deal of sickness
going on at the time, which alarmists called cholera. Willie
Grey was by no means plucky where sickness was in question ;
20 THE WOOING O'T.
he was attacked and speedily succumbed ; dying more of
fright than absolute disease.
His widow, with one little girl, was left destitute, save for
some trifles of furniture and pictures. But Mrs. Grey whose
soul was wrapped up in her child, was brave and energetic for
her sake ; both she and her husband had a knack of making
friends, and after much exertion she contrived to open the
Berlin-wool and fancy repository above described. She
elected the town in which her father had labored as a curate,
justly judging that a widowed mother, struggling to maintain
herself and her child, would be doubly interesting where she
was not unknown, and so she managed to glean enough to
keep life and soul together in the vineyard her father had
once cultivated. She did more ; she succeeded in establish-
ing a tolerable business, and brighter times seemed dawning^
when a sudden and severe chill developed the seeds of con-
sumption, and life's changing scene fast closed upon her.
John Grey was with his brother's widow at the last. To
his care she confined her little Maggie, and in the sincerest
spirit he accepted the charge.
But she had yet a respite. The excellent woman whose
school she had long attended offered to keep her, if she would
assist in taking care of the younger children, and here Mag-
gie remained for a couple of years, till her benefactress was
induced to break up her establishment and marry an old
sweetheart who had returned from Australia, rich, rough, but
unchanged in heart. After this, poor Maggie's life became a
sort of Cinderella existence, in the sordid atmosphere where
she was every one's servant and no one's favorite except her
uncle's. To him she was secretary, bookkeeper, everything,
being a bright, capable creature. At times she was permitted
to join the young ladies, her cousins, in their daily attendance
at a second-rate school ; but soon she was found to be too
useful at home to be spared, and so, with her ardent desire
for information and improvement, she was doomed to a
round of the commonest dredgery, without a chance beyond.
I said she was no one's favorite save her uncle's ; but she
had another patron her uncle's eldest son by a first mar-
riage ; a great, large-boned, loose-limbed boy, who looked
like a Newfoundland pup, scarce able to manage his own
strength. He naturally sided against his stepmother, and
while he soothed Maggie with his sympathy, considerably
embittered his stepmother's feelings by his injudicious cham-
pionship. But Cousin John heard of something more suited
THE WOOING OT. 2T
to his tastes and energies than rolling pills or concocting mix-
tures, and so departed for the Cape of Good Hope, three
years before the opening of this story, when Maggie was yet
barely fifteen.
So Maggie sat and darned away, and folded up sock after
sock, while she pondered on her position, and sought, in every
recess of her imagination, for some means of escape. What
could she do ? She knew scarce anything of French or
music, for what little she had once learned she had nearly
forgotten. She felt she was quite unfit to teach, even as a
nursery governess. " They all profess French," she thought
despondingly, " Could I get into a shop to do the accounts ? "
It might be foolish, but Maggie shrank from a shop. The
traditions of her childhood pointed to a higher social grade.
Her mother's standard of manner was something far beyond
anything she saw in her uncle's family, while Tom and his
companions were inexpressibly revolting to her. She was
almost ashamed to acknowledge it to herself, but it was a
punishment to her to sit in the same room with them ; proba-
bly all the men in shops would be like them. Her own idea
of a gentleman was taken from a very refined personage of
more than middle age a quaint old bachelor, who used to
occupy a couple of rooms in her mother's house part of ever)'
summer, for the purpose of fishing in some trout streams, for
which the neighborhood of the old town where they lived was
famous one of the school to whom every woman was a lady
in right of her sex. Alas ! turn which way she would, Mag-
gie's path seemed but a cul-de-sac, a long, monotonous lane
without an outlet. Nevertheless, she dared not let go the
hope that some unexpected turning might offer itself to vary
the horrible routine of her life.
As she thought, Mrs. Grey returned.
Smiles were on her lip and a parcel under her arm. " Well,
Maggie," she said, " I have not been very long. Now what
do you think I have been about ? " She sat down with an
air of joyous good-humor, rather alarming from its rarity.
" I am sure I cannot tell," said Maggie, rising uneasily to
to replace the basket in its usual position.
" If you will not guess; I must tell," replied Mrs. Grey,
beginning to unfold her parcel. " So I have just gone and
bought you a new dress."
" Have you really ? " cried Maggie, with sparkling eyes,
turning gratefully toward her aunt, and feeling as if a scuttle-
22 THE WOOING OT.
ful of hot coals had been heaped upon her head.
good of you ! And I know you have not much to spare."
" Well, it isn't my present," said Mrs. Grey, frowning
slightly at a speech, the candid sympathy of which vexed her
ignoble soul. " But while you were gallivanting to the play
last night we had a letter from John, who seems to have fallen
on his legs. Your uncle had his letter, and it appears he has
got into a capital house, all because he happened to play
draughts with the principal partner on the way out. He must
have an excellent situation, for he has sent Mr. G." (such was
her appellation for her husband) " 20 ; and he says, after
mentioning the bank where the order was to be cashed, ' Be
sure you buy Mag a new dress.' So I thought I would lose
no time, but just popped out to the Edgeware Road, and
there it is ! " Having reached the climax, she suddenly
unfolded ten yards a dress length, we believe of a bright-
green lustre, with yellow spots.
" Oh ! " escaped involuntarily from Maggie's lips, as she
gazed with dismay on the proudly displayed gift.
" Why, what's the matter ? isn't it good enough ? "
" Oh, yes, aunt ; it's not that but but I am sure John
is so good, and so are you, to take all that trouble ; but I am
afraid the color will not wear well, and I am sure I shall not
look well in green."
" Look well ! " echoed Mrs. Grey, with a sort of angry con-
tempt. " I suppose you are going to set up for a beauty after
going to the theatre in borrowed clothes, whereas you ought
to be thankful to have a gown to your back. I never, no,
never, met such a stuck-up minx as you are ! Who clothes
and feeds and lodges you, but me ? Have you a penny or a
rag in the world you can call your own ? "
"You are right," returned Maggie, who, galled, insulted,
crushed by the unanswerable reproach, was calm, with a sort
of desperation. " You are quite right. I am a penniless
dependent, but I thought I owed it all to my uncle not to
you. However "
" Your uncle ! " interrupted Mrs. Grey with scornful eyes
and flaming cheeks. " Your uncle, indeed ! What would he
be but for my money ? "
" Hear me," cried Maggie. " I was about to say that if I
go as a servant, even and I know," she added with a sad
humility, " that I am scarce fit even for that I shall not bur-
den you much longer. I promise that within a fortnight you
shall be relieved." She spoke, in the excitement of the
THE WOOING O'T.
2 3
moment, without a plan, without a thought, but as the words
escaped her she felt herself bound to fulfill them, cost what it
would.
" And you'll be no great loss," cried Mrs. Grey, contempt-
uously, treating this outburst as a mere ebullition of temper.
" It's all very fine ; I would like to see who would take you.
They had better not come to me for your character, for of all
the cantankerous there take it ! " And suddenly throwing
the despised dress with contemptuous fury at her niece's feet,
she hastily rushed from the room, as if fearing to trust herself
any further.
It would not be a pleasant task to disentangle and delineate
the painful, angry confusion of Maggie's thoughts and feel-
ings, as, leaning her elbows on the table, she covered her face
with her hands, and, quivering from head to foot, bit her lips
to keep i.i the passionate sobs that swelled her throat. This
woman, this low woman, her inferior, to possess the power to
wound and gall her ! How she longed to rend and trample
her adversary ! For poor Maggie was no angel.
Come what would, she would go, if she ran away, even to
some unknown and dreadful fate. What could be worse than
the life she led ? And the memory of the dear and tender
mother she had loved and lost came back to her with an
agony of affection and regret that swelled her heart to burst-
ing a sense of her own isolation from ties and love and all
that makes life dear so keen, that death at the moment would
be welcome.
The tears of the young, if readily dried, have a bitterness
of their own. As yet, the joy or sorrow of the instant is eter-
nal to them they can imagine neither sunshine nor shade
beyond. It takes the dreary teaching of after years to con-
vince them not only that " the day drags on, though storms
keep out the sun," but also that beyond the present glorious
sheen of love and light and joy the inexorable onward march
cf time goes on and on into the clouds and thick darkness
which may lie beyond. Yes, there are compensations every-
where, and maturity knows full well that until death comes
the unceasing flow of life's stream must bring change alike to
joy and sorrow. ^
But to Maggie the present was an agony of rage and pain,
and nothing beyond.
She was interrupted by the opening of the door which led
into the shop, and Mr. Grey entered, his hands and face vert
24 THE WOOING O"T.
black, and his garments largely splashed with some terrible
compound which smelt of vinegar and gunpowder.
" Is your aunt in ? " he asked, in a tone of some appre
hension.
" I dont know," said Maggie, in a choking voice, rushing
quickly to her feet, hoping to escape observation. " I believe
she is out."
" Get me a towel and some water, will you, like a good girl ?
Mr. M and I have been trying a very interesting experi
ment, and somehow I've got into a horrible mess. Make
haste, my dear."
Maggie sped away right willingly, and soon brought him all
he wanted ; waiting on him with a kindly readiness, which,
unobservant as he was, he felt rather than noticed. " Why,
Maggie ! " he exclaimed, as he laid aside the towel and
proceeded to turn down his cuffs, " what's the matter ? You've
been crying. Now I hope you have not been quarrelling with
your aunt. You know I must not, I mean I cannot, allow you
to contradict or aggravate her. You must remember she is
your benefactress," cried poor Grey, nervously hedging his
book, lest the sharp ears of Mrs. G. might by any chance be
within reach.
" No ! " said Maggie, with sudden courage, throwing her
arms around him. " You are my benefactor! I owe her
nothing, but insult and unkindness. I could bear anything
for you ; do anything for you ; but for your wife ! Oh ! I
should like never to see her again ! Ah, uncle, for mercy's
sake for the sake of my poor mother help me to leave your
house to go anywhere, to do anything, to escape." And
Maggie strained her uncle to her heart with a vehemence that
almost frightened the good, easy man.
" Come, come, Mag, don't talk like that. Where would
you go ? What could you do ? You are like a daughter of my
own. Be sensible. I suppose your aunt, who has been a
good deal put out about Tom, has been speaking sharp.
Pooh ! Pooh ! Yru must not mind half she says. Look now.
Where is it ? There was such a capital letter from John last
night ; you shall see what he sends you ; it will quite cheer you
up to read it. Where can it be ? I don't think I gave it to Mrs.
G.," rummaging his pockets. " I suppose I did." And the
hopes of turning the subject he sought hastily hither and thither.
" Oh, I know all about it," said Maggie, dejectedly. " My
aunt has brought me that" pointing to the heap of green stuff
lying on the floor.
THE WOOING O'T. 25
Here Mr. Grey upset a large and most respectable-looking
Bibk, which always lay on an unsteady little table beside Mrs.
Grey's arm-chair ; it fell with a crash, and as Maggie lifted it
she saw a letter that had slipped from between the pages.
" Is this it, Uncle ? "
" Yes yes ; there, you read that, and see what a kind
cousin you have, and don't think or talk nonsense any more."
So saying, Mr. Grey left the room.
A little turned from her wrath and grief, Maggie put the
letter in her pocket, folded up the objectionable green lustre,
very carefully enveloping it in the paper appertaining thereto,
put the room in order, and then fled away to her own little
corner in a big garret, where she kept a few treasures
belonging to her a few children's story books, with carefully
penned loving inscriptions on their fly-leaves, a few school
prizes, a hair chain her mother used to wear (the watch had
long ago been disposed of), and a miniature of her mother,
painted with his utmost skill by her father no great thing as
a work of art, but precious beyond compare to their child.
It was her companion, her confidante. Albeit far too healthy a
girl, mentally and physically, for morbid fancies, there was so
much pain in her present, and memory depicted so much of
pleasure and peace in the past, that every relic of her .nother
had for her a talismanic charm.
Here, in the cold and gloom of a London back attic,
Maggie wept gentle tears ; and, still with indistinct yet resolute
purpose to escape her aunt's thraldom, she opened her cousin's
letter with somewhat languid curiosity.
It was a rugged epistle, yet not without traces of ability in
its concise details. After some temperately kind expressions,
the writer described how he had fortunately found favor with
a former fellow-passenger, bound like himself to Cape Town,
who proved to be the head of a large mercantile firm there.
That he had been taken in as a clerk, at a humble salary,
through this gentleman's interest, and in course of time sent
up the country to buy wool for shipment to England. In this
transaction he had acted with such promptitude as to secure a
cargo just before a sudden rise in the price of the commodity,
which enabled his employers to clear a large profit on the
venture. They were liberal, open-handed men, and made him
a handsome present.
" I can therefore have the pleasure of sending you twenty-
five pounds, my dear father, for I know it is a strain with you
to make the two ends meet," the letter continued ; " five of
s6 THE WOOING O'T.
these are for little Maggie, who has no one to give her any-
thing, that she may rig herself out. Give her my love, and
tell her she shall never want a friend while Cousin John is to
the fore."
A few additional lines indicated some weariness of office
life, and an inclination to join an exploring party who were
preparing for a march into the interior.
" Poor dear John ! What a pity he is so far away," said
Maggie, to herself, dropping the letter into her lap. " Now
I can pay back my aunt some of my cruel taunts ! How ceuld
she be so mean, so dishonest, as to rob me of money I want
so sorely ? And to bring me that hideous green stuff to make
a fright of me ! It is too too bad."
Here Maggie's musings were interrupted by a shout from
the bottom of the garret stair of " Miss Maggie, you're
wanted ; Mrs. Berry's calling for you."
CHAPTER III.
MRS. BERRY was looking a little anxious when Maggie,
having striven hastily to wash away the traces of her tears
and emotion, obeyed her summons. " What has become of
you ? " she cried. " I have wanted you so bad ! There's my
book. We went off last night before it was half done, and
now Mr. Dunsford is coming at five to look over my money
matters, and I should like my book made all right in case I
do show it to him ; though he has no business to see my
private accounts, but he is a great help to me. He was poor
dear Mr. Berry's dearest friend, and though he did not like
the marriage, he has always been a good friend to me. My
husband was a great deal older than me ; but law ! he was
twice as clever and had a first-rate education. I'm sure he
was a good kind soul but double my age, my dear so I
always like everything to look clean and squared up for Mr.
Dunsford."
While she talked, Mrs. Berry bustled to and fro, and
arranged the materials and books. So Maggie schooled her-
self especially as she had a dim hope that Mrs Berry might
help her and made entry after entry, cast up, carried for-
ward, ruled neat lines, and finished all to Mrs. Berry's satis-
faction nearly a quarter of an hour before that appointment
tor the visit.
THE WOOING O'T. 27
" There now ! that's all very nice and comfortable," &aid
the widow. " I'll just smooth my hair and put on a fresh col-
lar and you can tell me what you have been crying about
till your eyes are like boiled gooseberries ! Come, tell me all
about it."
Whereupon Maggie, thankful to find a friend of any kind,
opened her heart to a certain extent. The little passage
touching Cousin John's present of five pounds, she suppres-
sed. She would not expose her dear uncle's wife to the scorn
of a stranger ; but her wrongs in respect of the hideous green
dress she could not conceal.
Mrs. Berry was sympathizing and indignant. " A two-
penny half-penny luster indeed ! I know 'em," (the widow
was apt to curtail the word them of its due proportions when
in a hurry ;) " nine and six the dress and just shrivel up
after a shower of rain as if there was running strings all over
them. You must find out where she bought it, and take it
back ; better put a few shillings to the price, and get some-
thing that would be of some use though I'm sure your
cousin meant handsome ! "
"Oh, Mrs. Berry ! " cried Maggie, her soft gray eyes deep-
ening and sparkling with the intense desire of the moment.
" I don't care about that wretched dress, I don't care about
anything but to get away to earn a living and yet can do
so "little."
" Why, goodness gracious ! You write and cipher beauti-
fully and spell wonderful ! Couldn't you go out governessing ?
But, law ! that's poor work, and very little chance of a
husband well, I'll just think."
" Please'm, a gentleman for Mrs. Berry," said a sooty
sen-ant.
" There, that's Dunsford ! you must go. I'll send for you
to-morrow just put away my bonnet and things, like a good
girl. I'll send for you to-morrow, and have a talk."
Margaret slowly, thoughtfully, but very neatly folded and
put away the widow's handsome walking attire, which lay
scattered on the bed and chairs. She was schooling herself
to go down and meet her aunt, and we fear a little exulting
in the means of reprisal that lay hid in her pocket ; then she
began faintly to hope that some way of escape might open to
her throngh Mrs. Berry. Maggie was too young, too grateful by
nature, to form a very just estimate of that lady. She
thought her kind and powerful, and rather grand ; but the
instinct of her taste and feeling withheld the terms lady-lik
28 THE WOOING O'T.
or pretty. To the rest of the family Mrs. Berry was indis-
putably a "great lady."
At length Maggie groped her way down to tea. She was
very hungry, poor child for she had been too indignant and
unhappy to come down to the family dinner. An expression
of feeling which had called forth so much unqualified abuse
from Mrs. Grey, that the meek chemist had at last revolted,
and words had ensued between him and that shrewd woman
of business, his wife, which, of course, ended in the total
rout of her lord. At this passage of arms none of the
younger members of the family assisted. Among them
Maggie was rather a favorite ; snubbed and looked down en
a little, perhaps, as an utterly penniless dependant, neverthe-
less too bright, too capable, to be unimportant. Tom was
out as usual. An air of gloom pervaded the family circle as
Maggie entered. Mrs. Grey looked both cross and fretted
at least, so it seemed to Maggie as she took her accustomed
seat by her uncle, full of her resolution to pay her aunt back
some of the numerous debts she owed her, on the score of
unkindness and gratutious insult. But even while she felt in
her pocket for John Grey's letter, she was surprised to find
her determination melting away.
It seemed to hurt herself to have to accuse another a
creature like herself, capable of being wounded and humiliated
of such mean dishonesty. No, she felt that such revenge would
cost her too dear. She had never intended to broach the
subject before her uncle and cousins, but now she made up
her mind not to allude to it even when she was alone with
Mrs. Grey, but quietly return the letter to her uncle, who,
satisfied with having given it to Maggie, would take no further
heed of the matter and so it would end.
But poor Mr. Grey was doomed to bring vials of wrath
upon his head that evening, for, feeling the long-continued
silence oppressive, he suddenly broke it by addressing Maggie,
" Well ! John seems to have fallen on his legs, eh ? "
" Yes, indeed," said Maggie, coloring up, and feeling
unaccountably guilty.
" What ! how ? " asked Mrs. Grey, uneasily. " I have told
Maggie all about the letter, and John's generosity, and a
pretty return she makes for it."
A short silence ensued, and for a moment Maggie hoped
the danger was passed ; but alas ! papa Grey would have it.
" Give me the letter, Maggie, I want to see what he says
about that exploring expedition." And Maggie, her heart
THE WOOING &T. 29
beating with fearful rapidity, drew forth the fatal epistle, and
handed it to her uncle. At the sight of it, Mrs. Grey turned
crimson, her eyes sank, she fidgeted on her chair, and then
suddenly left the room. " What's the matter ? " cried Mr,
Grey, looking up. " Is she not well ? Go and see after your
mother, Bell."
Bell soon returned to say that Mrs. Grey's "nose was
bleeding and they were to put away the tea things, she did
not want any more." ThcoC directions were accordingly
carried out, and after awhile, Miss Bell retired, to assist
Jemima and the " girl " in the private manufacture of some
coffee down stairs; Mr. Grey to read in peace behind his
shop desk, and Dick ran out to have a surreptitious game
with the errand boy.
Maggie was alone ; she felt weary, too tired and worn out
to think, and stood listlessly leaning against the window,
gazing upon the most drear}- of prospects, a London back
garden. When Mrs. Grey came in hastily and unexpectedly,
both stood silent and embarrassed at last Mrs. Grey ad-
vanced, and tossing her head, exclaimed, with a bad attempt
at boldness, " W r eli ! I hope you are satisfied with the
mischief you have made between your uncle and rue."
" I have made none," returned Maggie, sadly. " He gave
me the letter, and I returned it. I did not say one word to
him."
Mrs. Grey was evidently relieved and even touched.
" Oh ! " she cried, with more feeling than she usually dis-
played, " you do not know what trouble I have been in about
Tom ! He has such bad companions : they lead him into no
2nd of mischief ! He owes a bill to a cigar shop in Crawford
street, and they threaten to nab him, or come to his father,
and your uncle could just as well pay the national debt. So
I never said a word about it and now this money came just
in the nick of time and I thought you would not mind. I
am so sorry I was so tempted, Maggie, and "
" Oh, don't ! " cried Maggie, lifting and stretching her hands,
as if to repel an apology. " You are quite welcome to any-
thing of mine, only you might have asked me, aunt. Never
say an other word about it.".
" Well, I won't if you don't wish it," returned Mrs. Grey T
with rather the air of making a concession.
" But if you like, we'll change the dress, and I'll get you a
better one. There were some sweet things at twelve ard nine
and you will not mention anything to your uncle ? "
30 THE WOOING O'T.
" Oh, no ! I would not for the world. Now, aunt, I am
weary. My head aches. You will not mind my going to bed ?
You see I am unused to sit up so late at night."
" Yes, yes. Go to bed if you like."
The next morning Mrs. Grey was unusually mild, and Mr.
Grey, infinitely relieved to perceive that she and Maggie had
" made it up," was too happy to ask any questions. Tom, too,
was relieved from his most pressing difficulty, and conse-
quently amiable to all. In short, one of those moments of
respite had come to them which occasionally visit all with-
out which the affairs of life would come to a deadlock.
After breakfast Mrs. Grey whispered Maggie that she had
better go and change the dress, putting the munificent sum of
five shillings into her hand at the same time.
Maggie colored. She would rather have rejected the offer-
ing but that would have been both foolish and unkind. So
she started on her errand, too young not to be cheered by the
prospect of a new dress and to choose it herself ! though
she felt a little diffident at going into a shop on her own ac-
count, albeit she had often bought, not injudiciously, on com-
mission for her aunt. Her choice was soon made a neat
black and white dress of somewhat better texture. And then,
to her delight, she found she had enough money left to buy a
pair of gloves also black stitched with white.
On her return with these treasures she was summoned to
Mrs. Berry.
She found that lady en dishabille arranging some papers,
and burning letters her breakfast things not yet removed a
milliner's basket at one end of the room, and a dress, a lace
scarf, and sundry other confections, as our neighbors across
Channel call them, scattered about.
" Well, my dear," she cried, as Maggie entered, " you are
looking quite another thing to day ! Why, you look almost
pretty when you have a color. Just help me to burn this heap
of letters. All these are to go and while you are doing that
I'll be tying all these up. W 7 hat has your aunt been about to-
day ? Have you managed to change the dress yet ?"
" Oh, yes ! my aunt has been very kind about it, and given
me more money to buy a better one. May I show it to you
when I have done this ? I should like your opinion."
" Yes, to be sure, you must fetch it. And now, Maggie,
I've something to tell you that will set you wild ! You see,
I've felt it lonely travelling with only a maid and then you
THE WOOING 0"T. 31
can't take a maid to balls and places where you must not go
alone. So I consulted Mr. Dunsford, and decided to have a
companion and you shall be the companion if you like to
come ! "
Maggie bounded to her feet with a cry of delight, and
seized Mrs. Berry's hand. " Like to go with you ! Oh ! how
good of you to think of me. It is more than I can believe."
" Yes ! I know that it is a great surprise for you," said Mrs.
Berry with an air of importance, " and I hope you will behave
accordingly. I suppose your uncle will make no difficulties? "
" Oh ! no, I should think not," said Maggie, a little less
rapturously, as she thought of the kind, helpless man, " but
we must ask him,"
" Of course," said Mrs. Berry ; " why, you are not of age
eh ? how old are you ?"
" I shall be eighteen in May."
" Well, you have not asked me what wages I mean sal-
ary you are to have."
" No, indeed ! I am sure I am not worth much ! I leave all
that to you."
" Certainly, you are inexperienced ; and though I have a
good income, I have many demands upon it. You see I go
out a good deal, and I like my things to be fresh and nice
so that any one with a little management might be handsome-
ly dressed in what I leave off. Now I shall always give you
the best of my things and then, that you may buy gloves and
shoes, and not be without a penn) in your pocket, I shall give
you to begin with shall we say twelve pounds a year ? that's
a whole pound a month."
" Oh, Mrs. Berry, whatever you like ! That seems like riches
to me."
" Well, my dear, the sooner I can see your uncle and aunt
and settle the whole thing, the better for I must leave in a
week."
" But what can I do in return for all this ? " cried Maggie,,
striving to see through the confusion of her own mind, as joy
and gratitude and a sense of release struggled in her heart
and to understand what service would be required from her.
" Oh ! not much ! You must keep my accounts, and look to
the housekeeping (and mine is a small matter), and and
write little notes for me (I don't mind mentioning to you that
I was a very delicate child, and my education a good deal
neglected), and then you will assist me in needle work dress-
makers are such awful robbers ! can vou darn well ? "
32 THE WOOING O'T.
"Oh, yes ! I am sure I ought."
" And then you will be just like a sister with me, and you
must behave like a lady. Don't mention the shop, or your
uncle, or anything about this place. I shall speak of you as
the granddaughter of the Reverend somebody (your grand-
father was a clergyman you tell me) what was his name ? "
" Oh ! the Reverend Julius Evererd."
" Quite aristocratic, I declare ! I daresay we shall manage
very well. Now go and call your uncle to me."
, " I had better call my aunt," said Maggie, a little nervously,
and changing color at this sudden fulfilment of her threats and
wishes the day before, and filled with strange, utterly unex-
pected regret, at the idea of so soon quitting the wretched
home, that yesterday seemed a miserable prison ; then she
knew no one, and nothing beyond, and it contained the only
being on earth to whom her heart clung her careless, kindly,
improvident uncle. Even Tom and her aunt at that moment
seemed tolerable. But young and inexperienced though
Maggie was, she was yet conscious that these feelings were
a mere surface disturbance ; that under all was the conviction
that Mrs. Berry's proposition was a glorious chance for eman-
cipation and new life. And even while all these ideas flashed
across her mind, she said, " And will you speak to my aunt
all at once ? "
" To be sure I shall ! Do you think that / am afraid of
her ? " replied Mrs. Berry, with a laugh of conscious strength
and wealth. " And of course she will be glad to get rid of
you : for I daresay its no joke to have another woman's child
to feed and clothe. Run away, like a good girl, and send her
to me. I want to go out at two ; if you had anything decent
to put on, you might come with me, and begin to be useful at
once. Go and fetch your aunt."
" You do not want me back, I suppose ? " asked Maggie.
" No, not at all."
Infinitely relieved at this leave of absence, Maggie ran
down stairs. Very pale, and with an unsteady voice, she
addressed her aunt, whom she found overhauling the kitchen
utensiLs and belongings, previous to an almost monthly change
of servant " girls." She was considerably blacked and very
cross.
" Why, what's the matter ? " she asked, struck with Mag-
gie's looks and voice. " She's never been and got into
difficulties, and wants to go away without paying the week's
rent ? "
THE WOOTNG O'T. 35
" Oh, no ! something you will like much better than that."
" But I am not fit to be seen ! Give me a little hot water
and the round towel, Augusta." (to the servant.) " I wish she
had chosen any other time."
" Wei!, she is rather in a hurry "
" Then she must stop till I am ready. What is it about,
Maggie ? " insinuatingly, for her curiosity began to stir.
But Maggie was gone. So, putting herself a little to rights,
by the aid of a " broken mirror," which certainly made
many images of one that was, and muttering that Maggie might
have waited a little, Mrs. Grey made herself presentable, and
ascended to the " drawing-room."
She was closeted with Mrs. Berry for the better part of an
hour : and then, with a grave and thoughtful face, went in
search of her husband, who presently, with a puzzled ex-
pression, followed her to rfie widow's presence, and the door
was shut.
Dinner passed almost in silence on that important day at
No. 9 Beverly street, but at last Mrs. Grey spoke .
" So you are going to leave us. Miss Maggie ? "
" Leave us ! Maggie going ? " screamed Bell and Jemima
in a breath.
" That is as you and my uncle please," replied Maggie,
gently, and flushing crimson.
"Why, yesterday you were ready to be off anywhere, to
get away from such a disagreeable lot," said her aunt spite-
fully.
Maggie made no reply, but, meeting her aunt's eyes, the
latter colored in her turn, and remained silent for a moment
or two, while a torrent of questions poured from the younger
branches.
" My ! how nice ! " cried Bell, when she had learned the
main facts of the case. " Ma) be she'll adopt you, like the
Marchioness and Floribella in the ' Poacher's Daughter.' "
" At any rate, you'll travel about and have lots of fun,"
grumbled the sharper Jemima.
" Hooray ! " cried Dick, " I'll not be obliged to carry up
that lumbering old lamp any more."
Maggie was ashamed of the pang she felt at this speech.
" Hold your tongue," said the mother. " It is all very fine,
but the fact and truth of the matter is this : Maggie is going
out as a sort of upper servant for twelve pounds a year and
her missus' old clothes that's all I can make out of it ; and
of all the selfish, close-fisted women ever / came across, that
34 THE WOOING OT.
Mrs Berry's the closest! Why when your uncle," (to Maggie^
wnose eyes were full of tears at this insulting definition of
her brilliant prospects, ) " when your uncle asked her about
traveling expenses, in case anything went wrong between you
(not that he'd have troubled his head about it, if I hadn't put
him up to it,) there was no getting a syllable out of her
beyond a promise that, if she sent you away within a year,
she would pay your way back. After that, she said you ought
to lay by money. Lay by, indeed ! out of twelve pounds a
year ! And I say, pa," (her usual appellation for Mr. Grey)
" wasn't she sharp upon me for asking her to give it in writ-
ing?"
" Well, my dear, I wish you had not mentioned it. Mag-
gie, my child, are you perfectly content to go with this lady ?
You are not induced to do it from an} feeling that you are a
burden upon me? For I look on you as a daughter: and r
indeed, I have ever found you a dutiful and affectionate one,
and a comfort to your old uncle ! "
" Dearest, kindest, best uncle ! " cried Maggie warmly, with
much emotion, " it breaks my heart to leave you, and yet it is
better I should go. You have enough on your hands without
me ; you have done enough for me ; " and, with the tears
streaming down her cheeks, she threw herself into his arms, to
the manifest and imminent peril of his cup and saucer and the
proper position of his glasses.
"Some people don't go to the play for nothing," muttered
Mrs. Grey, as with much presence of mind, she removed the
crockery out of danger.
" Remember," said Mr. Grey, wiping his eyes with a blue
and white spotted cotton pocket-handkerchief; "remember,
Maggie, you have a home always with me."
"That's as long as you have one yourself," said Mrs.
Grey, coolly. " And now, how are you to find that stock of
clothes Mrs. Berry talked of, and you agreed to, as if your
pockets were lined with gold ? She bargains, Margaret, that
we set you up with a wardrobe, and that you are to cost us
nothing more."
" Oh, aunt ! " cried Maggie, pained beyond measure, to be
thus the bone of contention between her benefactors, and
humiliated by a sense of her own helplessness ; " let me speak
to Mrs. Berry I am sure she will not keep uncle to such a
promise. I will explain to her and then" checking herself,
U I have that beautiful new dress, and "
" Well," interrupted Mr. Grey, in a tone of strong common-
THE WOOING O'T. 35
sense, " there's John's present that will go far to supply all
she wants ; and every penny of it must of course be laid out
on Maggie."
" Yes, yes, dear uncle, my aunt and I will see to that,"
cried Maggie.
Mrs. Grey was silent, and soon after rose from the table,
saying hastily, " I suppose you are all done ? "
That was an afternoon of great excitement in the chemist's
house. Jemima and Bell were with difficulty chased away to
school, and Dick took an early opportunity to coax Maggie
out of three-pence for toffee on the strength of the splendid
prospects opening before her.
It was close on tea-time before Mrs. Berry sent for Maggie
again. She had been out the whole afternoon, and spent it
agreeably, to judge from appearances.
" Well, it's all settled, I suppose ? " she said, as Maggie
entered. " So you shall have your tea with me. I have
brought in some cold ham and a brown loaf ; and I am as
hungry as a hawk ; so run down, like a good girl, and see
why they don't send up the kettle."
The widow evidently considered her already in her service.
Maggie readily obeyed and brought up the kettle herself, the
servant following with the tea things.
" That's right," said Mrs. Berry, who was trying to get a
spot of mud off her velvet mantle. Maggie quickly folded
up her costly garments, set out the tea-table, roused the fire,
and made the tea, sitting down opposite her new friend with
a bright face.
"Well, now, this is comfortable," said the widow, helping
herself to ham, and pushing the dish over to Maggie. " Can
you cut bread and butter ? "
" I should think I could," returned Maggie, laughing,
" having cut all that has been used in this house for the last
three years."
" I wonder you have a finger left ! It is a thing I never
could do. Ah ! what a life you must have had ! Of all the
selfish, narrow sort of women I ever met, that aunt of yours
is the worst. She'd skin a flint ! Fancy her wanting me to
give her a written promise to pay your expenses home, and
give her compensation if I parted with you before two years.
Catch me writing anything, indeed ! But I dare say, we will
keep together pretty steady. I am one of that sort of affec-
tionate creatures as can't abide being by myself. Why, it's
quite a comfort even to see you sitting opposite to me, and
36 THE WOOING O"T.
to think that I shall be able to send you of a message when*
its too bad to go out myself, or get you to bring me a cup of
tea in the morning if I have a headache. Fill me out another
now, will you ? Put in three lumps of sugar. Isn't the
London milk awful ? But you never knew any better, I
suppose ? "
" Oh yes, at home, at Altringham, we had cream always."
" Help yourself, and when you have done, we will go into
my room. I have a box full of things some I thought of
selling. We'll just look them over, and see what can be
made of use to you. I talked of making your uncle rig you
out at first, which would only be fair to me. But law ! he has
no money you might wait long enough before you could get
a rag from him. Something that aunt of yours shall do,
though, if it was only half a dozen pairs of stockings."
A delightful couple of hours ensued, during which the work of
selection was carefully performed. Various were the valuables
displayed black silk and colored merino dresses, white
muslins, cloth and silk mantles, an old waterproof, some con-
siderably worn. Many were the scruples of the widow.
" You see," she said, " I expected a good deal from this lot, for
the good would have carried the bad : but I think it will pay
better to make some up for you." After a few moments'
thoughtful turning of them about, Mrs. Berry exclaimed,
"There, take them all, and these bonnets ; but you must pick
me off the lace. Now I except you are clothed for a year ;
and mind you are smart and nice by Saturday week, for I
am going to Dover, and you have only ten days before you."
CHAPTER IV.
THE week which succeeded this important move in the
game of poor Maggie's simple life was a mixture of toil and
excitement, not a little exhausting. Maggie worked early and
late to accomplish the ladylike appearance insisted on by
Mrs. Berry. Mrs. Grey caught something of the prevailing
fever, and made a show, which sometimes became a reality,
of assisting. She was not a little surprised by the sort of
discomfort she experienced at the impending loss of Maggie.
She knew she could never again find so intelligent, so honest,
so helpful a servant as the orphan girl had been to her ; and
though constantly annoyed by the sorrow her husband openly
THE WOOING O'T. 37
expressed at the approaching separation, she could not resist
a certain kindly feeling, that mingled with and mellowed the
curious medley of jealousy, satisfaction, anger, and remorse,
revolving in her mind like a coil of writhing serpents. So
she not unwillingly contributed her quota to her niece's
preparations.
Bell and " Jemimar " too insisted on hindering progress,
under the plea of helping ; while Tom was unpleasantly
facetious, drawing very unflattering word-pictures of Maggie's
future, ending usually with her marriage with some gouty
old citizen " of credit and renown," and her sending unlimited
" rivers " to her affectionate cousin.
Once Uncle Grey had broke forth in an alarming mood.
He rushed in from the shop one evening in a state of much
excitement. " We have been most negligent, Mrs. G.," he
said, " most culpably careless, Margaret ! But fortunately
Mr. Shepherd has suggested caution before it is too late.
Who is this Mrs. Berry, to whom we are about to confide our
poor girl ? No one knows. She may be an angel, or the
vilest of the vile ; and as Mr. Shepherd says, the chances are
in favor of the last. Moreover "
" You just tell Mr. Shepherd to mind his own business, and
pay his account," cried Mrs. Grey. "Who is Mrs. Berry,
indeed ! Who is he ? Set him up, with his beggarly science,
interfering with what don't belong to him ! And you, too, I
suppose you'll go next, and ask Mrs. Berry who she is, and
have Maggie thrown back on our hands, to say nothing of
spoiling the poor child's fortunes ! I am just the most
unlucky woman on earth, to be worried with your nonsense."
" No, my dear, no ! I am not about to do anything rash ;
but some inquiries I will make, and I take shame to myself
that I never thought of doing so before."
" Well, you have mulled it rather," said Tom, with a view
to " rile " all parties ; and a sharp discussion ensued as to
what steps should be taken in this important matter.
At length Maggie siezed a momentary lull to suggest
that Mrs. Berry's solicitors might answer any questions satis-
factorily.
" Who are they ? ' asked Mr. Grey, despondingly.
" Messrs Dunsford and Thorne. And Mr. Dunsford is
Mrs. Berry's friend," returned Maggie.
" Where is their office ? "
" Oh, in Church Court, King Street."
" I will go there to-morrow," said the chemist stoutly.
3 3 THE WOOING O'T.
" And make a fool of yourself, I'll go bail," said his wife.
So the subject dropped temporarily, and seemed forgotten by
all but Maggie, who dreaded some unexpected stroke of ill-
luck would deprive her of the golden chance fortune had
thrown in her way.
Howevei, a couple of evenings after, Mr. Grey came in,
cold but radiant, and announced triumphantly that he had
been to the city, had seen Mr. Dunsford, a most gentlemanly
man, who appreciated his motives, and gave him a perfectly
satisfactory account of the widow and her antecedents.
Moreover, he promised to say nothing to the fair client of
the application, which it was but right of Mr. Grey to make ;
and beyond this, Uncle Grey had been told that ' Dunsford
and Thorne ' was a firm of the highest respectability, and uni-
versally known.
At length all was accomplished, and the day on which
Maggie was to set out like the prince in the fairy tale to
seek her fortune, arrived. It was a damp, cold morning, with
a depressing drizzle. Maggie was up early, and provided
Mrs. Berry with the desired cup of tea before she rose ; an
attention which drew from that lady an exclamation of " Now
that is nice ! " and then she was enjoined to get the book of
cab fares and look out for the exact fare to London Bridge
Station.
From that hour to the moment of starting, the whole house
was in an uproar. Mrs. Berry had decided to leave by the
eleven o'clock express. " We can then get rooms before din-
ner," she said, " instead of going to any one of those horrid
hotels, where they would take the very skin off your back
with their charges." Previous to starting she had to revise,
remonstrate, and discharge, both Mr. and Mrs. Grey's ac-
counts an agonizing passage to Maggie. She had moreover,
to make frequent spasmodic, frantic rummagings in every
drawer and cupboard, lest by chance a stray atom of her
property might be left behind. Then she had to count her
gold and silver, that she might know exactly what was in her
purse, and stow away a neat, crisp roll of notes in some mys-
terious inner pocket near the region of the heart. Finally
she peeped into a little basket [of provisions, and inspected
Maggie severely.
That young lidy had already scrutinized herself with much
satisfaction, for the glass (and it was in Mrs. Berry's large
glass, mark you, she contrived to look) presented a very nice
picture of a slight, lady-like girl, in a pretty violet nierina
THE WOOING Cf7\ 35
a gray cloth cloak with a graceful hood, a neat, simple
bonnet of black lace and violet ribbon, just enlivened by a
few pansies of a lighter tinge, cuffs, collar, gloves all com-
plete : and under the bonnet a fair, fresh young face, with a
sparkle of hope in the blue-gray eyes, that would have been
too light but for the plentiful shading of brown lashes many
tints darker than her hair.
At last Maggie felt she had left the humiliation of her
Cinderella, chrysalis state behind, and almost smiled at the
consciousness that already she had thrown off the depres-
sion, the painful self-distrust that always hangs upon shabbi-
ness.
Poor child ! for her the future had no fear, so little did she
dream the present sunshine should ever be overcast.
" Ton my word ! but you do look smart ! " cried Mrs Berry,
when she had time to examine \&t protegee. " My goodness
gracious, how well my merino and old gray cloak look ! And
the bonnet ! You made it yourself ? I expect you to turn
out many a smart one for me. Goodness, Maggie, what a
lucky girl you are ! Why, you look as nice and lady-like as
as A running aground for a simile. " Never mind and
don't say a word about the shop ! You might be a lord's
daughter for all that ill-natured Selina Salter shall ever know.
Now, I think I have remembered everything the cab is at
the door. Run down, say good-bye, and come after me. Here,
take the little basket and umbrellas. I'll take the traveling-
bag."
So Maggie ran down to the well-known back parlor, where
the whole family were assembled around the neglected break-
fast-table. Hasty adieus were exchanged, and even Tom had
the audacity first to swear that Maggie was the " spiciest gal "
he had seen for many a day, and then to ask for a kiss,
which, even in that supreme moment, was indignantly re-
fused.
" God bless you, Mag ! " said her uncle.
M What a grand lady, to be sure ! You are ever so much
too fine for the back parlor of a shop," said her aunt.
" Be sure you write, Maggie, and tell us all about every-
thing," cried Bell and Jemima.
" Well, Mrs. Berry, there she is. I commit her to your
care. She is young and inexperienced," began Mr. Grey,
with some solemnity, as he put his niece in the cab.
" All right," said the lively widow. " Tell the man London
Bridge, and to drive quick."
40 THE WOOING O'T.
In another instant her uncle, the shop, with its well-known
belongings, vanished : and when Maggie again saw them, all
things had become new to her; life, interior and exterior
all had been fused and altered by the transmuting force of
experiment.
" I can't get you to buy the tickets yet," said Mrs. Berry - f
but you must come in with me and just see about it and the
luggage. There's my three boxes and the small hamper, and
your box that's five altogether. You must see them labeled
as soon as I get the tickets. There's nothing to pay. We have
no more luggage than we are entitled to, for I always go
first-class," added the widow, loftily.
Maggie listened in silence. She was engaged watching the
well-known park, where she had wandered many a weary
hour in charge of Bell and Jemima, oppressed by the sense
of her own and their painful shabbiness, and that she was a
creature apart, and infinitely lower than the well-dressed,
vvell-cared-for children, with their refined voices and subserv-
ient attendants, little fortune's favorites, who abound in that
aristocratic haunt.
On reaching the terminus there was nearly a quarter of an
hour to spare, which Mrs. Berry employed in confiding her
belongings to a porter, and seeing them piled on a truck in
readiness for labeling, which charge the man undertook
readily and civilly, seeing a perspective of sixpences, as the
widow was splendidly attired in silks and furs, and spoke with
an air of command ; but Maggie could not help noticing when
they were seated in the carriage, the man came, touched his
hat, put in the umbrellas and wraps, and said the luggage
was " all right forrard in the guard's van," that he retired
with a dissapointed look, despite Mrs. Berry's profuse
acknowledgements.
" Greedy, grasping lot they are, to be sure," said she, as
they moved out of the station and she was busy settling her-
self. " They all want to be paid for their trouble, in spite of
the notices the company put up : but " (in a high-principled
tone) " I never encourage it. Well, Maggie, isn't this nice ?
Did you ever travel first-class before ? "
" No, never," returned Maggie, smiling, " and it is verj-
uice."
Then, the speed and clatter increasing, Mrs. Berry opened
a Telegraph, then a rare pennyworth, under the friendly cover
of which she speedily dozed off. Not so Maggie. Every
sense was at its fullest stretch. The rapid motion the total
THE WOOING CfT. 41
newness of their present circumstances the swift-changing
scene viewed from the window of the carriage all was excite-
ment to her. Then she recalled her last sad journey, when
she left behind her all she had ever known of love or life in
the dear gray old town of Altringham, and journeyed painfully
with her uncle to London, where her worst anticipations were
fulfilled by the wretchedness of her life for at first it was
much more intolerable. Use hardened her ; and moreover,
naturally loving and generous, though a trifle fiery, it was not
possible for those who lived with her to dislike her. Now all
was so different. How could she ever do enough for Mrs.
Berry ? She wished, though, that lady would not be quite so
fussy and ready to squabble with cab-drivers. Maggie could
not help thinking that the sixpenny-worths of saving were
dearly bought by the coarse, rough words they drew forth
from the aggravated drivers. But no doubt such fancies were
a mistake, and only the result of her ignorance. So she sat
and gazed from the carriage window with undiminished delight
sometimes giving a tender thought to her uncle to the old
den of a back parlor even a sort of plenary absolution tc
her aunt. And while she mused Mrs. Berry enjoyed quite a
refreshing nap.
The widow's history is a short and simple tale. Her father
had contrived, in the course of his professional career
which profession was a mystery to scrape together money
enough to furnish a good class of house. He let the greater
part of it in lodgings. His daughter kept it for him cleverly
and pleasantly. Their most permanent and best paying in-
mate, a gray and slightly dried-up elderly gentleman, of the
most regular habits, astonished her one day as she was ren-
dering the week's account (always written out in clerk style by
her father), by proposing for her. Albeit addicted te penny
romances and a beau-ideal husband something between a
black-whiskered dummy in the window of the neighboring
hair-dresser, and a handsome policeman who occasionally
frequented the streets the solid attractions of Mr. Berry
proved too strong to be rejected : having silenced her father's
inquiries by a reference to Dunsford and Thorne, and a hand-
some sum not only settled upon her, but fairly invested in
their joint names, he bestowed his benediction, and they
were united.
After a few years of very tranquil life, which Mrs. Berry
might have felt a little dull, but of which she was too much
in awe of her husband to speak he was seized one chill
42 THE WOOING O'T.
November day with a bad sore throat, and after a few days
illness, breathed his last to the terror and grief of his wife,
who knew that she could not keep up the same almost
luxurious though unpretending home on the proceeds of
fifteen hundred pounds and of his affairs beyond this she
knew nothing.
Her surprise was therefore almost overpowering when,
after reading the will to her in due form (by which her late
husband bequeathed everything to her absolutely), Mr. Duns-
ford gradually and solemnly revealed to her the existence of
various sums, all well and safely and invested, the income of
which reached to something over one thousand a year ;
besides a comfortable balance at the bank, the house and
furniture, and sundry other bits of property.
Mrs. Berry was half frightened at the idea of such wealth,
and while her father lived, his homely warnings and
admonitions, his terror of fortune-hunters and painful sense
of the responsibility money brought, made the widow's life a
burden, but kept her out of mischief. He, however, died
before the second year of mourning was out.
Two years and a half had now elapsed since the deceased
Berry had been laid in the grave, and the widow, free, rich,
and greedy for enjoyment, had doffed her weeds, and incited
by the counsels of her friends, the Salters, whom she met at
a very respectable boarding-house at Cheltenham, had tried a
season at Boulogne, and was intoxicated thereby, and now
dreamed of nothing but conquests and pleasure.
At Tunbridge, Mrs. Berry, who had spoken but little even
after she had roused herself from her sleep, exclaimed
cheerfully, " Get the basket, Margaret (I shall call you
Margaret Maggie is so vulgar); let us have a sandwich and
a glass of wine, for we will just leave the boxes and all at the
station, and settle about lodgings at once. Then we can
come back for our things, and If we eat a bit now, a meat
tea at five o'clock will do very well. There, take a little wine
it will do you good, for we have plenty to do. I am deter-
mined to have nice rooms. There is very nice society at
Dover lots of carriage people and military and it will not
do to have anything shabby. Another sandwich ? It's rather
dull having no one else in the carriage. I have heard of
people picking up such nice acquaintances traveling."
" Yes, I have often heard of such things," said Maggie,
responding to any bit of romance of which, in her ow
queer, vulgar way, Mrs. Berry had plenty.
THE WOOING Or. 43
Arrived at their destination, the widow speedilj disposed
of her belongings in the luggage-office ; and then whispering
" No one knows us here yet," hurried Maggie into one of the
various omnibuses waiting, and they were soon moving along
quickly, and Maggie experienced that peculiar bewildering
sensation of whirling through unknown streets very mean,
narrow, rugged streets looking as though the houses were
built of sea-worn pebbles, with a double portion of mortar.
At length better houses appeared they were in a more open
locality and then Mrs. Berry called to the conductor to set
them down at the corner of the Esplanade.
When Maggie looked around her she was seized with a
sudden delight. At each side stretched a long line of pleas-
ant-looking, low-roofed houses, green with jalousie blinds,
and nestling under lofty cliffs, the white chalk peeping here
and there through the growth of grass and ferns and brambles
that covered them ; the whole crowned by the grand, half-
decayed old castle, while in front stretched a wide bay, with
the open sea beyond. The day had cleared during their jour-
ney, and the blue waters were dimpling and splashing and
heaving in the sunlight, while the long sweep of the shore
was fringed with a constant line of white foam, where the
gentle waves broke and played and raced away again, like
mischievous children. Such an emblem of joyous, brimming
life Maggie never looked upon before, while the briny air, sa
soft, so invigorating, made every breath she drew delicious.
" Oh ! Mrs. Berry ! " she cried, clasping the widow's hand,
and stirred by some strange sympathy with the glowing ani-
mation of the scene, " what a h?venly place ! Why did you
not tell me it was so beautiful ? "
" Yes, it's nice, isn't, it ? " returned that lady unmoved.
" But look round do you see any ' Apartments ? ' Well, I
declare, that is very extraordinary ! Not a single card alF
along this row ! Come, we'll walk on and see if we can't find
something the further from the town the more fashionable
the situation."
They walked on quickly, for Mrs. Berry could accomplish
nothing without a fuss. Maggie little heeded her companion's
babble ; she was drinking in the beauty around her ; she was
receiving a new revelation of life's possibilities.
" There ! " exclaimed Mrs. Berry, excitedly, " there's a
card : there's another no it's not. Why, the place must be
quite full. I thought it was out of season. But I fancy Dovei
44 THE WOOING O'T.
is always the fashion. I am sure I am very glad I determined
to come down here."
" Now mind, whenever I say, ' What do you think of these
rooms ? ' be sure you say, ' Are they not very dear ? ' or ' A
high figure, or ' They have not so good a look-out as what we
saw lower down,' or something like that, to back me up."
So saying, without giving Maggie time to remonstrate,
Mrs. Berry rang the bell and plunged into the fray. This
was rather a trial for Maggie to sit and listen to Mrs.
Berry and " the woman of the house " squabbling over each
detail ; first the exorbitant amount of the rent, then the enor-
mous charge for kitchen fire, the high price of coals per scut-
tle, the unconscionable demand for boot-cleaning, etc., etc.,
while her whole soul was out of doors, longing to feast unin-
terruptedly upon the sights and sounds so new to her. Three
or four times was this process gone through, as the widow's
keen sight discovered various additional cards ; at last, con-
siderably wearied, in spite of her energy, Mrs. Berry threw
herself on one of the seats on the Esplanade. " Isn't it tire-
some ? " she cried. " I declare I don't know what to do. Three
pound ten is a lot of money, and those rooms at the Terrace
are quite as good for a pound less."
" But then it is round the corner, and has only a peep of
the sea," cried Maggie.
" That is quite true, said the widow, with an air of the
gravest consideration ; " it might seem mean to be in a corner,
and lower us completely. We'll go back to that woman on
the Marine Parade, and I'll make her an offer. I must say,
Maggie, that you're no great help in making a bargain ; but
you'll improve. I'll just offer Mrs. Cheetham three pound a
week, everything included, and give her a week's rent in ad-
vance, if she likes."
A prolonged chaffer ensued, and the bargain was once
more nearly off for Mrs. Cheetham stuck gallantly to her
extras when a lucky random hit on her part finished the affair.
" No, mum, I knows the real vally of my rooms, and I will not
under-let them and so I says this very morning to a lady as
was wild to get them, only they were above her mark and
she a lady of title. Oh, dear, dear, whatever was her name ?
Lady Lady Salter that's it."
" Oh, indeed ! " cried Mrs. Berry, her eyes sparkling.
" Come, Mrs. Cheetham, let us meet each other say three
pound fifteen, all extras included. I'll take the rooms certain
for a month, and here is a week's rent down."
THE WOOING O'T. 45
" I couldn't think of such a thing, mum, from a lady of your
.appearance. But of course- you'll pay for your own coals and
-washing table linen when you has company ? "
" Very well then," said Mrs. Berry, gayly, " it's settled then,
and I'll send for my boxes. We will have tea as soon as I
get them."
" Would not the young lady like to see her room ? It is
just over yours, see only small," said the landlady very po-
litely to Maggie.
"I wish you could give her one on the same floor as
mine."
" Well, mum, you see, if I break the suite, I must charge
according and the little room above is very pretty."
Maggie returned after a very rapid inspection, perfectly
satisfied, for her little chamber looked upon the sea.
" Now, as I am fairly dead beat," said Mrs. Berry, " let me
see, Margaret, if you are woman of business enough to go
and get our luggage."
CHAPTER V.
THE week which ensued was cold and wet, and proved not
a little disenchanting to Maggie. The sea, it was true, was
always interesting, though sometimes awesome and stern of
aspect ; but then to be shut up with Mrs. Berry in the same
house was not a little trying arranging her clothes, and mak-
ing Maggie contrive some alterations thereon, and having her
hair dressed in various styles, helped her through a couple of
days ; but then she became a severe infliction. Uneducated,
imitecl in capability, with enough imagination of a physical
description to crave constantly after excitement, and without
an object in life save self, Mrs. Berry's mental calibre offered
few resources, and the " whole duty " of Maggie, in her pa-
troness' opinion, was to be admiring and amusing. The first
part she fulfilled fairly, for she was so honestly grateful to
her protectress that she seemed handsome and clever and a
grand lady in her eyes.
It was rather a relief to Maggie to be sent out in wind and
rain, on sundry errands to market and to shop : and toward
the end of the week a grand diversion was caused by. a visit
from Lady and Miss Salter.
The former, a huge womnn -"ho waddled when she walked,
46 THE WOOING &T.
and generally wore a velvet or silk cloak, which flew out w
ample folds from the shoulders; she also wore a large doub;-*.
eye-glass with gold rims, attached to a gold chain so massive
that it suggested touching reminiscences of the deceased Sir
Benjamin Salter, late alderman of "famous London Town.' 5
Miss Salter was as thin as her mother was stout, and waj
severely genteel. To be refined, correct, aristocratic in
manner and bearing, was the aim of her existence, and as
well-sustained effort usually brings success, she produced a
very tolerable imitation of the style she admired. Both ladies
were well and carefully dressed, and brought a strong odor of
musk with them into the room.
Maggie, who had been altering what Mrs. Berry termed " a
thirty-shilling bonnet," that does not look " one quarter as
well as that little one you made out of my old things," was
hustled away, lace, flowers, ribbons, etc., gathered up in her
apron, with an injunction to make herself nice, and be back
in five minutes.
She was formally introduced as " My young friend, Miss
Grey," and quietly sat down to her crotchet work ; but she
was soon roused by a series of cleverly put leading questions.
How did she like Dover ? Was she fond of sea ! Did it agree
Avith her? Maggie smilingly replied that all places agreed
with her ; but that she was delighted with the sea ; her own
home having been quite inland, she had never seen it before,
" Indeed ! " said Lady Salter. " And where might that be ?"
" At Altringham," replied Maggie, to Mrs. Berry's infinite
delight, r^ it was a safe, remote place.
" Oh, indeed ! " said Miss Salter, languishingly. " And do
you know the dean ? He is a very charming person."
" I knew the late dean. Ah ! what a good man he was ! **
Miss Salter was silenced, for the present dean, a Low Church-
man, of very obscure origin, was but newly appointed by
Whig, not to say Radical, interest, whereas the late dean was
a highly connected, moderately High Churchman. Maggie
spoke out of the fullness of her heart, remembering that
dignitary's kindness to her mother, little dreaming the effect
her words produced. Her cross-examination proceeded no
further ; the Salters, mother and daughter, decided that the
widow Berry had picked up some offshoot of decayed gentility,
and felt annoyed accordingly; for they had looked upon the
widow as their special property, though they had found her
not so malleable in matters which involved expense, even
WOOTKG (TT. ft
during her .stay at Boulogne, where she was quite in their
hands.
" I am surprised, Mrs. Berry, that you can be without a
piano, you were coming on so nicely with your singing," said
Miss Saltcr.
" Oh ! I intend to have one, but the weather has been so
bad there was no getting out. How did you know I was
here ? "
" We saw your name among the arrivals," said Lady Salter.
" Indeed," cried Mrs. Berry (her eyes sparkling). " I won*
der hew they found me out."
" Your landlady of course put it in ; they always do it, as
an advertisement for these people. Dover is rather dull just
now," continued her ladyship, " but we know a very few nice
people Mrs. Colonel Waddilove and the Cruickshanks. Mr.
C. is a man of very good family, and holds a high appoint-
ment, quite confidential with the government " (he was a
Queen's messenger), " and they know Major Tupper, and
several of the military stationed here so that we make up a
nice little rubber of an evening. Now this is a charming room
for a little card and musical party."
" Ah ! I dare say ; but where are the people to come from ? "
returned Mrs. Berry, a little discontentedly.
"Oh! they will come," said Lady Salter, encouragingly.
" My friend Mrs. Colonel Waddilove has a little reception
next week, and if you would like to come I should be very
happy to take you."
" I am sure you are very good ; you never forget me," cried
the widow, gratefully. " I shall be very pleased indeed.
What shall I wear?"'
" Full dress and jewels," returned Lady Salter, pompously.
*' And what sort of party is it ? what are we to do ? "
persisted Mrs. Berry anxiously, quite in a flutter of excitement.
" Is it dancing or what ? "
" Dancing ! Oh dear no ! " said Miss Salter. " Music, cards,
and conversation."
" Very nice, I am sure, but I do like dancing," said the
.vidow with a sigh.
" I regret that I do not feel at liberty to take more than
one friend, Miss Grey," observed Lady Salter stiffly, " or 1
should be very happy to introduce you."
" Oh ! never mind," cried Mrs. Berry ; " young girls like
her only care for dancing."
Maggie smiled, *"* f said nothing. "Music, cards, and
48 THE WOO f X'G VT.
conversation," did not appear very attractive under r!w
protecting influence of Lady and Miss Salter. They sst a
considerable length of time, but as the conversation turned
on people and events at Boulogne, or, as all three pronounced
it, " Bullone," Maggie was little interested. She listened
dreamily as one character after another was torn to pieces,
and thought in her own mind how really vulgar Mrs. Berry's
fine friends were. Maggie was a foolish young thing, with
high-flown notions, partly innate, partly drawn from hei
favorite authors Bulwer and Scott and Miss Edgeworth,
whose works were among poor Uncle Grey's few private
treasures. Fine company for a young creature not worth
twopence ! Oh, glorious Communism of literature ! that
permits a poor little friendless girl in a London back parlor
to cull the choicest fruits of minds so rich, observation so
keen ! to thrive upon such rare food ! So Maggie sat, and
listened, and thought. At last the visitors took leave, and
then Mrs. Berry broke forth :
" Miss Salter is very elegant, is not she ? and so is hei
mother but they are just selfish and knowing ! Oh, I shan't
forget how Miss S. left me in the lurch, after me taking places
at the play ! Still it is very kind of them to take me to this
party. But I declare, you are a little brick, Maggie ! You
did answer her ladyship well. Who was that great man you
were talking about dean, or deacon, or something ? You are.
a brick ! "
" Oh, the Dean of Altringham Dean Joscelyn ! He was
a very kind friend to my poor dear mother. I believe he
knew my grandfather; and I know when my mother was ill
he used to send her fruit from the deaneiy gardens, and wine,
but it was all no use," concluded Maggie dejectedly.
" No, of course not," replied Mrs. Berry, unheeding. "
tell you what, Maggie, I must get a piano, and practice my
singing. I may be asked to sing on Wednesday. Can you
play ? "
"I know the notes scarce anything more. I used to
learn when I was at school, but since I went to my uncle's I
have forgotten all I ever knew."
" Now that is a pity. I thought you might be able to play
my accompaniments. I can sing, fast enough, but the play-
ing is a bother; and yet I practiced enough all last year at
Boulogne, and I had such a nice master ! I suppose there is
a music master to be had here { "
^Of course," said Maggie.
THE WOOING O'T. 49
" Well, let us put on our bonnets and go and see about the
piano and master at once. You might pick it up again, just
sitting in the room listening, for it would not be cornet for
me to take my lessons alone, you know."
" Would it not ? " said Maggie wondering.
" Come along, Maggie;" cried Mrs. Berry, " it is not rain-
ing now, and I can look in at Lavington's and see if they
have any nice new head-dresses at the same time."
"Oh, dear Mrs. Berry! you have such heaps of pretty
things for your head, and then all your hair."
" I declare you are a prudent little thing, and will save my
money for me," said Mrs. Berry in high good-humor.
This movement was a source of great pleasure to Maggie,
for, hoping to be saved trouble, the widow permitted her
various stray half-hours to practice, and she soon felt her own
knowledge of music returning, though her fingers were for a
long time stiff and unmanageable.
The days which intervened between Lady Salter's visit and
Mrs. Colonel Waddilove's reception passed quickly, for they
were fully employed.
Various alterations had to be made in the decorations of
the two evening costumes between which Mrs. Berry's choice
vibrated. Then an equal variety of head-dresses were tried
on, and that too at the most unexpected and unsuitable hours
of the day. Then there were practisings, at which Maggie
was always expected to assist, and during which, in her hon-
est regard and gratitude, she would frequently exclaim, "
do not think that sounds right, Mrs. Berry," as the widow
uttered some discordant shriek ; for, though gifted with
a very fair quality of voice, she was wofully deficient in ear.
As the momentous hour approached, Mrs. Berry grew more
anxious about her dress and appearance.
" Don't I look horrid thin and pale ? shall I put on just
the least bit in the world ? " making a motion as though to
touch her cheeks.
" Oh, no, no ! pray do not. There is nothing like a natur-
al complexion ; yours suits your eyes and hair. ^ when you
get into a warm room your color will come," cried Maggie.
" Well, perhaps so, but I am afraid my hair looks too plain
only just the ivy leaves and a rose."
" I think it looks so nice ! pray do not alter it ! " implored
Maggie, who had an artistic taste for dress.
" Well, I had better be off," said Mrs. Berry, " for I am to
take her ladyship and Miss Salter. I don't know how it is,
4
50 THE WOOING O'T.
but I generally do take them up whenever we go out together.
Good-bye I dare say I shall not be late."
For the first time for years Maggie had some hours abso-
lutely and indisputably to herself, and proceeded to dispose
of them according to a little plan she had made. First she
set forth pen, ink, and thin paper, and began to indite an
epistle to Cousin John good, kind Cousin John. A very
pretty, pleasant letter it was : for, as she wrote, old memories
thronged upon her, and she saw the large-limbed, loutish boy
once more, who had been her staunch friend she remem-
bered how she had clung to him then the agony of parting
and many a time she paused in 1 er composition to think
over her past trials, and wipe away the tear that would rise
as she recalled them. And now, how fortunate she ought to
consider herself ! And no doubt she did : but nevertheless
she could not resist a strange, uneasy feeling, that, good
and kind as she was, Mrs. Berry did not. suffice to fill her
heart.
" Ah ! if my own dear mother had been spared, I should
have wanted nothing more ! But now, I wonder wLl any one
ever love me, as Devereux loved Isola ! I am afraid not. I
am no beauty," and she sighed to herself, and wished Cousin
John was handsome and at all convertablc; to heroic purposes.
But no ! even her lively imagination could not transform the
rugged, awkward boy, with his ragged-looking red hair, and
not over-clean hands, into a hero, to be worshipped with a
life's devotion. So she resumed her pen and finished her
letter. Then she luxuriated at the piano, picking out the
chords that harmonized with the sweet old hymns and bal-
lads, still clearly remembered, with which her mother used to
sooth her childhood and charm her older years.
Mrs. Berry returned about one o'clock, tired and not over
pleased. " I declare," she exclaimed, " you look as fresh
and bright as if you had the best of company, and I am quite
fagged I wish you would get me a bit of ham and a little
hot brandy and water. I am quite cold and hungry." Mag-
gie ministered to her friend's wants, and judiciously ab-
staining from unnecessary questioning, left her to reveal her
wrongs. It was not till breakfast time the next morning that
she spoke. " I am sure it was well worth dressing to go and
meet about twenty old fogies, not one under sixty, I'm cer
tain, except a Major Compton, a nice man enough, and Selina
Sailer would not give any one a chance to speak to him ; but
old Mr*. Waddilove did introduce him at last and it's my
THE WOOING OT. 51
belief he asked her. We did nothing for hours and hours but
look at one another, and then a lady sang a song a queer,
doleful thing ; then Miss Salter squalled out something ; then
we sat down to cards, and they gave me a horrid old creature
with red eyes and a wig for a partner. He was awful cross,
and played so bad himself that I lost fifteen shillings. What
do you think of that ? I could have cried to think of all that
stupid, stuck-up party cost me. There was my bouquet, that
was five shillings, and the fly will be eight, and whist fifteen
that's twenty-eight and a pair of gloves, two and nine.' 1
" But they will clean," suggested Maggie, consolingly.
"Well, I do not know about that," returned the v.idow;
"all I can tell you is, that if I can get no more pleasure or
profit out of Dover than Mrs. Wacldilove's receptions, I will
just go straight away to Germany, France, or somewheres."
" It is certainly provoking," said Maggie, with sympathy,
yet finding something irresistibly comic in the widow's woes,
and highly delighted at the idea of going to the Continent,
" It would be charming to go abroad."
" Yes, it's twice as pleasant ; but I must rub up my French
a little you can't think how fast I picked it up ! You see it
is awkward not to be able to read it. You can't do much in
French ? "
" Not much, I am sorry to say ; a little more than in
music."
" Well, we will go and look out for a master. I'll engage
I'll get lessons in for you for the same money ; and then we'll
go abroad, when you can speak a little. But we'll keep the
lessons quite quiet, and not let those ill-natured Salters know
a word about it."
" Oh, Mrs. Berry ! how good you are to me ! How much
I owe you ! to learn French and music it is beyond all I
had ever hoped for ! " cried Maggie, coloring with pleasure,
while her eyes sparkled.
" I declare, Maggie, you are a funny girl. Sometimes you
look quite plain, and then, when you color up, you look
downright pretty. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if you picked
up a husband one of these days ! "
" Not at all likely, said Maggie, laughing, " for I do not
intend to be easily pleased,"
" Set you up," said Mrs. Berry, laughing good-humoredly ;
" you little know what a rarity a husband is, for a girl who
has no money."
The idea of a French master was acted en by Mrs. Berr/
$2 THE WOOING O'T.
with her usual promptitude, and a little dried-up specimen of
the Gallic race was soon discovered, who visited the widow
and her young protegee two evenings in the week, to impart
his language.
This period of her life with Mrs. Berry was often remem-
bered with a pleasant sense of repose and satisfaction by our
young heroine, who enjoyed the study and full occupation.
Certes, she had no lack of the latter, for, besides her own
share of work, she had to get Mrs. Berry's lessons into her
head somehow beside doing an infinite number of what the
widow termed " odd jobs " in the way of milliner)' and nee-
dlework. Then Mrs. Berry, having procured admission to the
library by a subscription, left the choice of books entirely
to Maggie ; and to crown all, the only presentable man
whom she had met at Mrs. Colonel Waddilove's re-
ception, Major Compton, reappeared and frequently walked
with Mrs. Berry and Miss Salter ; while Mrs. Waddilove's
receptions became less dull and more desirable ; so that Maggie
had considerably more time to herself and dearly she valued
it.
Nearly two months had thus flown a\vay pleasantly and
profitably to Mrs. Berry's young friend, who felt as if they
had been together for years, and that the purgatorial period
of Beverly Street had been shunted away, miles back, upon
life's line. April was closing with a bright sun and a treach-
erous east wind, and Mrs. Berry, in common with her fash-
ionable "-iends, was absorbed in the anticipation of a grand
military ball to be given by the gallant Blankshire militia ; for
It was the time of the Crimean war, when few regular troops
were to be found in our " tight little island."
The widow's demand on Maggie's sympathy, taste, inven-
tion, endurance, were enormous. Nevertheless she was equal
to the occasion, and gallantly put aside the secret longing of
her heart to go there herself, and dance to the inspiriting
music of the band which occasionally delighted the ears of
the good citizens of Dover.
However, fate ordained a different ending to Mrs. Berry's
preparations. Four days before the ball she was prostrated
by a severe attack of fever and malignant sore throat, the
result of a cold caught when walking on the pier in a charm-
ingly airy costume. When the hour came at which she ought
to have been dressing, two doctors, looking terribly grave,
stood by the widow's bedside, and poor Maggie hung upou
their accents with heartfelt grief and anxiety.
THE WOOING O'T. 53
But Mrs. Berry recovered ; slowly and intermittently her
strength returned, and when she was herself again the Salters
had disappeared, Mrs. Colonel Waddilove had vanished, and
Major Compton, with the gallant Blankshires, had departed
to distant quarters.
" There is no use staying on here," said Mrs. Berry, " every
one is gone, I'll tell you what, Maggie, we'll go away to
some of these German baths they will set me up, and the
doctors say I ought to winter in Italy. Now, my dear, I
shan't forget in a hurry the good care you have taken of me.
See if I don't do you a good turn yet. You stick by me,
Maggie, and you'll not repent it."
So the widow and her prottgie considerably more drawn to-
gether than before, set forth upon their continental pilgrimage,
and for a long time Maggie was lost to her Beverly Street
kindred.
CHAPTER VI.
A BMGHT, though far from warm sun, was lending its beau-
tifying lustre to the gay streets and gardens of sparkling Paris
(and that city is scarcely Paris without sunshine), one evening,
as t\ie days first began to lengthen, about a year and a half
arter the close of the last chapter. But few glances of light
were left in the gloomy depth of the court-yard on which the
bed-chamber and smaller sitting-room windows of the Pension
Favert opened. In front, the Pension Favert was one of the
ornaments of the Rue Raymond a short, wide, noisy street
in the neighborhood of the Madeleine. Here congregated
widow's with limited means, genteel aspirations, and marriage-
able daughters ; enterprising spinsters ; and the halt, the
maimed, and the blind of the stronger sex.
It was, of course, cheifly frequented by English, whose ec-
centricities were an endless source of wonder to the hostess,
albeit long inured to insular singularities, which she the more
contemned as the inmates of the pension by no means upheld
the magnificent side of John Bull's character.
In one of the best and largest of the gloomy bedrooms of
the Pension Favert, this early spring evening, Maggie Grey
sat beside a table on which lay numerous pieces of green silk
and white lace, paper patterns, pins, cottons, and all the ac-
cessories which indicate the process of making something
54 THE WOOING OT.
new out of something old. She looked a little pale and
weary, as though she longed for a breath of fresh air. Yet
she worked on steadily, piecing morsels neatly together, and
evolving something like shape and order out of the chaos
before her. Presently she began to regulate and put away
the fragments, and having cleared the table, walked to the
window, and stood for a long time gazing down into the mel-
ancholy well-like court-yard, as though her thoughts were far
away.
The eighteen months' wanderings which succeeded Mrs.
Berry's illness at Dover had developed almost another crea-
ture out of the dulled and sad dependent orphan although
to be Mrs. Berry's companion was no brilliant lot. But a
bright imagination, and innate good taste, and a strong sub-
stratum of sound common-sense could not fail to reap a large
amount of education from summers in Germany, an autumn
in Florence, a winter at Nice, for the restoration of Mrs.
Berry's health.
Nor was this period without a large share of pleasure,
although Maggie was generally left out of all parties, expedi-
tions, and amusements which her presence would entail the
smallest additional cost. But galleries and churches and
beautiful rambles cost nothing : and many chance acquaint-
ances, of divers nationalities, at tables d* hote, made them-
selves agreeable to the fair, quiet English girl. Then she
often had respites from needle work, when she contrived to
do a great deal of miscellaneous reading ; and at Nice, when,
in the previous spring, Mrs. Berry made a hurried visit to
Paris to see the Exhibition, because there was a party starting
with an experienced leader, who undertook to carry them all
through it at so much per head. Maggie was thus left deso-
late to wait her employer's return, she was enthusiastically
patronized by an elderly American lady an old maid, and
reported enormously rich who took her out driving, lent and
gave her books, and finally made her a splendid offer to leave
" that horrid British woman" and live with her. But Maggie
was far too faithful to be tempted for a moment, though she
knew very well how uncertain was her hold of Mrs. Berry.
It was clear to her awakened powers of observation that the
main object of the widow's wanderings, and untiring efforts
after what she would have termed " elegant society," was a
desire to buy some pinchbeck coronet with her solid gold.
This inordinate desire for social distinction was dashed with
a confused ideal of a handsome, charming, reformed rake of
THE WOOING O'T. 55
a husband devotedly attached to her if a mind of Mrs.
Berry's calibre could form an idea. And hitherto all her
efforts had been unavailing. Nevertheless, though Maggie
well knew she would be cut adrift remorselessly for the first
decently glittering French count or German baron who thought
it prudent to recruit his shattered fortunes from the widow's
coffers she steadily resisted the temptation of her American
acquaintance, who ended her fruitless negotiations by quar-
relling fiercely with their object, and cutting Mrs. Berry dead
when she returned from Paris, much to that lady's dismay as
she had a sincere adoration of wealth, almost touching in its
undisguised simplicity.
" I'm sure you've been and done something awkward or
stupid to put her out, Maggie. I'll tell you what, we'll go
back to Baden and Homburg, and try Florence again for the
autumn. If I feel the cold much we'll finish the winter here,
and then I'll try a regular season in Paris. I met some very
nice Scotch people, who told me Paris is the right place for
me. There's a mixture of French and English society, very
pleasant and distinguished, to be had easy enough, if you make
a good appearance."
So Maggie was swept away in her protectress' service, and
did her best to avail herself of what opportunities of self-
improvement offered. Rich with youth, hope, feeling, affection,
she felt how grand a thing life is under difficulties and in
spite of great natural patience and modesty, she often ardently
longed to have her full share of the bright things about her,
which, almost within her grasp, were yet out of reach.
Maggie bad thought long, vaguely, and not very cheerfully,
when the door was dashed open, and Mrs. Berry came in,
,vith flushed cheeks and eager look.
" Well, my dear, you must help me dress at once, for I am
invited to an elegant dinner at Vefour's, and we are going to
the ' Opera Comique' after. I have had such a busy morning !
I am tired. Just look in the armoire, like a good girl, and see
if there is any of that Frontignac left, and a biscuit. I am
nearly famished." *
" And who are you to dine with ? " asked Maggie, as she set
forth the desired refreshment with kindly alacrity.
" Oh ! Mr. and Mrs. Maclaggan the Maclaggan," said Mrs.
Berry, correcting herself with a strong emphasis on the article.
" You know he is chief of something or other, and has great
estates, or had for they have been taken from him by some
horrible rogue of a lawyer," she continued : for save where
56 THE WOOING OT.
self and pelf was concerned, Mrs. Berry was soft and credu
ious to an extraordinary degree, always ready to believe any
penny periodical tale wherein love, murder, wrong, and rob-
bery abounded. " Mrs. Maclaggan was telling me all about
it she is an elegant woman, and he is quite the gentleman."
" He has such a dreadfully red face." objected Maggie.
" Oh! that is exposure to weather he was such a sportsman
Mrs. Maclaggan says he was always chasing deer and things
when they were at home in Glen Glen oh, bother the name
Never mind. Get me my black moire with the yellow trim-
ming, and my black lace bonnet with gold convolvuluses. I
think they become me better than anything else I have and
I do want to look well. It is to be such a gay dinner ! "
cried the widow, hastily divesting herself of her morning
dress.
" Who gives it ? " asked Maggie, as she assisted her friend
and patroness.
" Oh, two gentlemen : a Mr. De Courcy Jones, and the
Comte De Bragance you remember him surely, at Baden ? "
cried Mrs. Berry, excitedly.
" No, I do not think I do. We saw so many counts and
marquises."
" But you could not mistake him. He is not very tall, but
he has such splendid eyes, and such a figure, and such style !
He was leaving just as we arrived ; he was at the Maclaggan's
the first time we took tea with them."
" I think I do remember him. He played some game at
cards with a Russian gentleman ? "
" Yes, that's him. Well, he came in to call while I was at
Mrs. Maclaggan's, and do you know he remembered me quite
well and said such flattering things ! Nonsense, of course ;
though he looked as if he meant them. And then he said he
and his friend, a young Englishman of fashion, wanted to give
Mrs. and Miss Maclaggan a little dinner, and begged me to
join them. And then we agreed to go and hear Rose CheVi
in the 'Domino Noir' after. Isn't it nice ?"
I am so glad I came to Paris ! "
" Rose CheVi in the 'Domino Noir !' " sighed poor Maggie.
" Yes, that will be delightful."
" Never mind. I'll take you some night , we'll go incog, to
a cheap part of the house," cried Mrs. Berry, excited into an
unwonted condition of generosity. " Give me my blue enamel
and diamond locket and ear-rings and I shall put on just the
least touch to my cheeks ? "
THE WOOING O"T. 5)
" No, no ! dear Mrs. Berry, it is horrible ; and you have
quite a nice color as it is."
"Well, never mind then. But 1 forgot to tell you I have
gone and engaged apartments an awful rent, my dear; seven
hundred francs a month. But they are uncommon nice, and
I felt quite ashamed the Count and Miss Maclaggan laughed
so at my living in a pension a place only fit for dowagers
and old maids, they said ; not fit for any one with the least
pretensions to fashion."
" They ought to be very nice rooms indeed for such a rent,"
said Maggie, a little startled at this sudden outbreak of ex-
travagance on the part of her friend.
" So they are No. 2, Rue M , just at the corner of the
Champs Elysees, au second, but quite first-rate. And I tell you
what, Maggie, while I am out to-night, I wish you would just
get madame's account. I will have to pay up to the end of
next week. Never mind. Get everything made out. I'll
settle up to-morrow, and we'll ,be off."
" What ! move into your new apartments to-morrow ! "
cried Maggie, half frightened.
" Why not ? I am sure I am quite ashamed to give my ad-
dress here. So we'll have plenty to do to-morrow to find a
femme de menage and all sorts of things, for I think we shall
be able to do without a regular servant, eh, Maggie ? We
must try, with such an awful rent. Now, I think I'll do. You
wouldn't advise the least touch just a soupcon ? No, I dare
say you're right. Good-bye, child. You might amuse your-
self looking over the book while I am out, and let me know
in the morning exactly how much I have spent, traveling and
all, in the last fortnight."
So Mrs. Berry went away exulting. Maggie stood awhile
in deep thought : and then, with a look of some perplexity,
set to work to put the confusion of finery Mrs. Berry gener-
ally left behind her in order ; this accomplished, there was
just time enough to arrange her own very simple toilet before
the dinner-bell rang.
It was rather desolate going down stairs alone, and taking
her place among twenty strangers : but it would have been
still more tremendous to send word she would not dine down
stairs ; so Maggie went and met with some kindly notice
from a musically inclined and slightly rheumatic bachelor
one of the pillows of the pension.
A couple of days saw the widow and her protegtc almost
settled in their new and very desirable lodgings. It was a
58 THE WOOING O'T.
modern house, fresh with paint and gilding, gay with bright
chintz hangings, and mirrors, and clocks, and vases, luxuri-
ous with deep lounging chairs, sofas, and ottomans ; a saloon
all rose-color and gold ; a salle a manger with oak furniture
and bronzes. The house (a corner one) afforded a triangular
closet, communicating with the saloon on one side, and a
queer little kitchen on the other, into which Maggie and her
belongings were thrust. Then there was a vestibule, one
side of which was accommodated with a huge cupboard pro-
nounced by Mrs. Berry to be " a perfect treasure."
" One need not mind who calls here," said Mrs. Berry ex-
ulting " so different from that shabby old pension. And
didn't Madame Favert know how to charge ! I don't think
I'll spend a penny more here, in spite of the awful rent. But
we will want a lot of dress ; still, I am sure there are places
where bonnets and things may be got cheaper than in the
ruinous Rue St. Honore or Vivienne. We'll go and see about
them after lunch. And Maggie, I shall give you a new dress
and bonnet, for you must be with me constant. I never know
the moment the count may drop in. 1 met him yesterday in
the Bois, and he says he is going to bring his sister to call on
me ; and then, Mrs. Maclaggan says I ought to have an
evening."
" What for ? " asked Maggie.
" Oh ! to receive my friends. And we must have a piano.
Now, there is a little cold pate in the cupboard, and some
cheese, so we'll just make out." In truth the meals at No. 2
Rue M , were generally " made out " in the same way, the
shortcoming of which usually fell to Maggie's share.
Nevertheless she was delighted with Paris. The gay and
fe'te-like appearance of all things is so congenial to the buoy-
ancy of youth, that she could not help expecting that some-
thing personally-delightful must happen in that intoxicating
capital.
Then Mrs. Berry had become much more generous in the
article of dress, and Maggie was no philosopher, to be un-
moved by the charms of a fresh becoming bonnet or a well-
ritting robe.
So the widow and her fair companion set out in excellent
spirits ; and not far from their own door encountered a slight,
dark-eyed, distingue looking man, dressed in most fashionable
attire, but well dressed for a Frenchman, more in the London
than in the Paris style. Mrs. Berry pressed Maggie's arm.
" Here's the count, I declare ! " she whispered.
THE WOOING O"T. 59
" Madame Berrie," said the gentleman, raising his hat with
a graceful sweep high over his head. " I was about to be
present myself in your saloon, hoping it was not too early to
have the honor of being received."
" Oh no ! count, not at all come in now," said Mrs. Berry,
very graciously, " ve were only going to do a little shop-
ping."
" And I could not think of interfering with your plans,
Madame," cried the count. " May I not be permitted to ac-
company you ? nay, might I not be of some service to the
fair stranger in selecting the best magasins ? "
After a little fencing and coquetting on Mrs. Berry's part
for, though well pleased to have the count's escort and agree-
able flatteries, she feared it would be incompatible with her
character as a woman of fortune and fashion to drive hard
bargains in his presence she accepted his offer ; and after a
slight introduction of Maggie as " My young friend, Miss
Grey," the trio proceeded very amicably to the Rue St.
Honore*.
Monsieur De Bragrance spoke English very fairly, though
with a strong foreign accent ; but when he expressed him-
self in French, Maggie was struck with the clearness and
purity of his accent, and a certain commanding ring in his
tones which conveyed an idea of rank and importance. She
also observed with some amusement that he entered into the
question of hiring a piano with much interest and gravity
recommending a certain depot where good instruments might
he found on moderate terms, and ultimately guiding his com-
panions to a dingy little room in a shabby little street leading
from the main artery of St. Honore', where pianos of all kinds
were crammed with wonderful ingenuity as regards storage.
And Maggie's sense of amusement was further gratified by the
keenness with which the count proceeded to bargain and stip-
ulate in his high-bred tones of a snuffy old man in a dusky
blouse and a stubby chin, about a charge per month, the car-
riage to and fro Mrs. Berry's apartment, the tuning, etc., with
a keenness and vigor as though the greatest interest was in-
volved in the compact.
Then Mrs. Berry declared her only other pressing necessity
was a supply of flowers. The all-accomplished count con-
ducted them to the right place, and bargained earnestly for a
regular supply.
Mrs. Berry whispered, " It won't do to go hunting for
cheap bonnets now," in Maggie's ear, and then graciously
60 THE WOOING O'T.
acceded to the count's suggestion that they should stroll up
the Champs Elysdes, and if not too chill, sit for awhile and
see the great world going for its drive in the Bois de Bou-
logne. And here too his knowledge seemed illimitable. He
knew something of everyone, and not a few occupants, male
and female, of the gayest equipages bowed to him with more
or less familiarity. His remarks were shrewd and caustic ;
and although Maggie felt her vague dislike to him moment-
arily increase, she also felt that he was a man of education
and no mean ability. Mrs. Berry was in a condition of pride
and exultation not easy to describe. Here she was, well-
dressed, attended by a man, too, of such undoubted distinc-
tion, absolutely on the point of floating into the highest
society a coronet, as it were, within her grasp ! No wonder
that the ambitious relict of Samuel Berry, first traveler and com-
mission agent, swelled with gratified vanity, and under such
animating influences looked almost handsome.
" How goes it, De Bragance ? " said an unmistakably
English voice, not full or musical, yet not vulgar. " I missed
you last night at the baron's, but I suppose you will be with
Jones' this evening? "
" All right, rnon cher" returned the count, smiling pleas-
antly ; and Maggie, looking up, remarked the first speaker, a
tall, stout, broad-shouldered young man, with light reddish
hair, a full, heavy face, and the suspicion of a yellow mus-
tache.
As she looked up she met his eyes. They were light blue,
with a grave wondering expression, but honest eyes, and
eagerly fixed upon herself. Catching her glance, he blushed
vehemently and looked away. It was strange ; though well-
dressed, and not without a certain air of importance, he
reminded her of her kindly, loutish Cousin John. These
observations, however, had scarce time to flash across her
physical and mental vision v.-hen the object of them nodded
to the count, and saying " This evening, then," walked
quickly away. Mrs. Berry was too much engrossed with the
fine ladies and equipages before her, to notice the count's
acquaintance ; and Maggie would not, even had she cared to
know, make any inquiries on the subject.
At length M. De Bragance suggested that it was cold that
Madame might possibly suffer and in short politely told hei
to go home. True, he escorted her there, but being especially
engaged, could not indulge himself by accepting her invitation
THE WOOING OT. 6l
to enter ; and so, with a bow of extreme elegance, he took
himself away.
Great was Mrs. Berry's sense of enjoyment in so marked a
success. " I declare," she said, throwing herself into an easy
chair, " I am both tired and hungry. Maggie, don't you
think we might get a petit plat from that restaurant round the
corner ? Run down like a good girl and speak to the cor*
cierge he is always civil to you get him to send his little
boy. Stay ; there is a five-franc piece ; bid him be sure and
bring the change, and I'll give him two sous for himself."
The evening that ensued, and many others, were heavy for
poor Maggie. For the widow, halting between two opinions,
bestowed much of her uncertainty on her companion.
Imprimis : Wasn't the count charming ? quite a man of fash-
ion, and devoted to her (Mrs. B.). But secondly : Was he
rich, as well as elegant and loving ? To which Maggie would
reply that she granted the elegance, but doubted both the
love and money. Then the widow would say, " Law, my
dear ! you doubt every one's affection because you have no
one to make love to yourself. But I am afraid of the money.
Still, one can't find everything ; and I'm sure my money would
go a long way in France."
However, though poor and insignificant, Maggie had a
good deal of influence on her rich friend. Her clear com-
mon-sense, her honest regard for Mrs. Berry's interest, and
above all, her tender nursing when the widow had been so ill,
all attached Mrs. Berry strongly to her, through the most
accessible avenue to the human heart, selfishness. Moreover,
a certain quiet force of character told upon the slighter nature
in contact with her.
The count's attentions continued steady, though not assid-
uous ; and February had melted away into March without
much change in the position of affairs. Maggie's uneasiness
on Mrs. Berry's account was considerably lulled. She
thought M. De. Bragance did not intend to propose for, and
she could not reason herself out of the dread and antagonism
he had inspired. However, she had watched and* assisted
her friend through many " engouements" and trusted that, as
in other cases, the widow's instinctive love of gold would
shield her from the miseries of an imprudent marriage. It
was wearisome work to a girl like Maggie who viewed love
as one of the holiest and most sacred of life's mysteries in
short, in the true unpractical light in which youth ought to
riew it to listen hour after hour to Mrs. Berry's vulgarismf
62 THE WOOING O'T.
on such a subject, and argue with her round the perpetual
circle, whether the count loved her, or if his rank and stand*
ing would suffice with her money, or if it were better to wait*
for an Englishman of equal distinction. So, as the days
increased in length and warmth, and the crowd in the Bois
assumed gayer tints and larger proportions, Maggie rejoiced
that her friend went out more and more with the Maclaggans,
the count's sister, Baroness Von Garn, and sundry other
acquaintances, chiefly British of the easiest manners and most
restless habits. So that she was left in peace to her books
and work and piano ; for with the prospect of Mrs. Berry's
possible marriage always in the future, Maggie was most
ager to fit herself to be a teacher anything by which she
might escape the horror of returning to the dominion of her
aunt. Thus peacefully employed, she overlooked the chance
of other influences gathering round the widow, in spite of her
continued confidence in her protegee.
When the piano for which the count had bargained in so
masterly a manner was brought to Mrs. Berry's apartment,
the concierge, a rugged Communistic little man who in pri-
vate practised the sartorial art, but was always civil to Mag-
gie, informed her that a musician of unrivalled ability lodged
au cinquieme " un homme tres comme il faut, et d'un talent
remarqitable" but not successful , not known as he ought to
be ; why monsieur le concierge could not tell whereat he
shrugged his shoulders. Now, if madame or mademoiselle
wanted instruction, here was an opportunity supreme genius,
vast experience, for a mere bagatelle. Hold ! here was one
of the worthy gentleman's cards."
To Maggie's report of this communication did Mrs. Berry
seriously incline. Monsieur Du Val was sent for ; his terms
were moderate, he was very accommodating as to hours, and
an agreement was entered into upon the spot. He proved
not unworthy the eulogiums of his patron the concierge, though
rather too exacting and conscientious a master to suit Mrs.
Berry. But Maggie soon formed a friendship for this very
simple and, as she found, desolate artist. He was a tall,
.gaunt, gray man of sixty or more, with sunken jaws, and a
thin, scattered, grizzled beard, great, dark, eager eyes, which
yet could sometimes look mournfully wistful, like those of a
stray, weary, helpless child. He was an enthusiast and a
dreamer, and yet could sometimes utter marvels of worldly
wisdom in the most epigrammatic French. An eager politi-
tician, he had, he hinted, suffered for his faith ; and Maggie
THE WOOING O'T. 63
was never tired of listening to his expositions on this subject..
But poor M. Du Val was far from being always amiable. He
suffered much from rheumatism, and occasionally appeared
with a large green shade, for he was subject to inflamed
eyes, under which condition a music lesson was no trifling
matter.
Nevertheless, Maggie's heart warmed to him she was ever
ready to do him any little sendee, and the poor musician in
return lavished all his care and skill upon her, and for her
sake on that " drble defemme" whose relationship to Maggie
he never could quite understand. So earnest were his in-
structions that Mrs. Berry managed to sing a duet with her
" young friend " without excruciating all ears, and Maggie
made tolerable progress in playing.
The widow's Wednesday evening receptions were, she con-
sidered, a great success. Thither came the chief of the Mac-
laggans, with his wife and daughter ; thither also came the
count and sundry of his friends English, French and Polish,
slangy or silent, debonair, and musically replete with chansons
and romans, according to their nationality, the latter playing
frantic mazourkas, and all playing cards. The German
baroness also came, and sometimes brought other baronesses
and Mr. De Courcy Jones, reputed a millionaire, and in-
sanely conceited. Maggie disliked the count more and more r
but his friends were amusing. All were civilly undemon-
strative toward herself except the jolly red-faced Highlander,
who was kindly and jovial, and bestowed a little extra atten-
tion upon her, and one of the count's friends, a Monsieur
Grenier, an artist, a feuilletoniste, a general genius, with a
haggard face, wild hair, and audacious eyes, who tried
to show her more than a little attention, to her great disgust.
Time slipped rapidly and not unpleasantly away, when
one evening Mrs. Berry returned from a drive in the Bois de
Boulogne with Mrs. Maclaggan, in a considerable state of ex-
citement.
" Who do you think the count is going to bring here to-
night, Maggie? "
" I am sure I can't think."
" Lord Torchester ! What do you think of that ? An Eng-
lish nobleman of large fortune and high rank, who has
asked for an introduction here. Now, there is no knowing
but he may take a fancy to me, and though I am sure the
count is just the nicest creature, it would be grand to be an
English countess or viscountess. I don't know which,"
THE WOOIiVG VT.
" It depends a good deal on what this lord is or has," said
Maggie, laughing ; " but we shall see."
CHAPTER VII.
MRS. BERRY took no small pains to set forth her petit
apartment, though the time was short. Maggie and the ser-
vant whom the widow had added to her establishment, were
despatched with carte blanche to the nearest florist's, and came
back laden with a fragrant burden, which afforded Maggie
genuine pleasure to arrange. Then Mrs. Berry inquired es-
pecially what Maggie intended to wear, and went deeply into
the question of her own toilet. Maggie, whose notions of a
nobleman were very undefined, laughed heartily at Jie idea
of all this preparation for a stranger they probably would
never see again.
" Lord Torchester ought to be highly flattered," she said ;
" but I assure you I am very reluctant to bring out my new
white muslin and blue ribbons for so small an occasion. Its
first freshness will be gone, and for what ? "
" You're a silly, my dear," retorted the widow. " I con-
sider this an occasion when we all must put our best foot
foremost."
The Maclaggans and the baroness had already arrived and
partaken of tea, which Mrs. Berry insisted on having served
English fashion in her salle a manger, with Maggie to preside,
and Rosalie the bonne to hand round a variety of cakes. Mrs.
Berry had begun to look anxiously at the door, fearing lest
any dirge mischance should deprive her of her expected
guest, when Rosalie threw it open, and M. De Bragance en-
cered, closely followed by a tall, high-shouldered, heavy-look-
ing yowng man, with light hair and eyes and a reddish face.
Maggie thought his looks familiar to her, and then remem-
bered that he had spoken to the count, on the memorable
occasion of their having sat together looking at " the world "
in the Champs Elyse'es.
He was well dressed, and wore blue enamel and diamond
shirt' studs and waistcoat buttons, and a large signet ring, and
was altogether got up in a strain of the highest fashion.
Nevertheless, an indescribable air of bulky awkwardness
seemed to oppress him. and reminded Maggie irresistibly, of
kindly, loutish Cousin John, with his patched knees, big
THE WOOING O'T. 65
hands, and jacket sleeves a world too short for his strong
arms.
" Madame," said M. De Bragance in his elegant way,
" let me present my young friend Lord Torchester, who
has been ambitious for some time of an introduction to
you."
" I am sure I am truly glad to see his lordship,'' said Mr*,
Berry, all in a flutter, " and so much obliged to him for conv
ing."
Maggie thought she noticed a bitter contemptuous :mile flK
over the count's face as Mrs. Berry spoke. The yovig peet
bowed, colored, stepped back, and fod on the baroness' foot,
then stared aside with a flushed, almost agonized look, that
moved Maggie both to laughter and pity.
" It is very warm this evening," observed Lord Torchester,
with much originality.
" Yes, it is very warm," replied his fair hostess, as if im-
pressed with the importance of a newly discovered truth.
" Will your lordship take a cup of tea ? "
" Yes, thank you." He would have accepted a " cup of
cold poison," to get away from the baroness, who yet smiled
genially upon him.
" Here, Maggie," cried Mrs. Berry, leading the way to tha
tea-table, give Lord Torchester a cup of tea."
" Sorry to give you the trouble, " said the young man, in 9
hoarse and rather unmanageable voice.
" Take a chair, my lord," said Mrs. Berry, who could not
pronounce the mellifluous monosyllable often enough, and
proceeded to draw one forward a degree of attention
embarrassing to the young peer, who hastened to her assis-
tance so eagerly that he nearly upset the heavy chaise F Louise
Qiiatorze.
" Will madame be so good as to hear a new composition of
our friends Kockanowska ? " said the count, as Lord Torches-
ter succeeded in placing himself at the table near Maggie.
" Oh yes, certainly, but Lord Torchester wants some tea."
" Mademoiselle can adminster that mild refreshment," said
the count, with a nearly suppressed sneer, of which both
Maggie and Lord Torchester were conscious.
" Frenchmen don't care for tea," he said, as an opening
address to the fair tea-maker, as the count led Mrs. Berry to
the salon and left him in peace.
" I don't think they do ; and M. De Bragance does not
think anything worth having that he does not like himself,"
5
66 THE WOOING OT.
returned Maggie, feeling unusully at home with the big boy-
ish-looking young nobleman, who, with his shyness and
awkwardness, his broad plain honest face and large bony
hands, reminded her so much of Cousin John, that she
unconsciously spoke to him with a kindly tone and a pleasant
friendly smile, so sincere in its expression of good-will, and
so free from the smallest tinge of adulation, that it struck
home to the young man's better feelings. He laughed good
humoredly.
"That's just like De Bragance, but," with a sudden
change of tone, " he's an uncommon clever fellow, I can tell
you ; there is nothing he can't do. Ride ! I never thought a
Frenchman could ride like him ! and plays every game that
ever was heard of ! "
" What a wonderful creature ! " said Maggie, with ironical
admiration.
" Oh, you are chaffing," cried Lord Torchester, coloring
but smiling still, so completely had Maggie's manner disarmed
his habitual shy distrust. "But he is a clever, pleasant
fellow only "
" What ? " asked Maggie, as he paused.
" Well, I can't quite make him out : can you ! "
" I do not intend to try, but I think I could."
" Could you ? " said the earl, wondering and slightly
incredulous. Maggie gave him a little confident nod and
smile which, though bright and pretty, seemed in some way
or other to silence Lord Torchester ; for though he looked
intently at her for a moment, he did not speak again till she
asked if he would have any more tea. Somewhat to her
surprise he accepted her offer, and though he looked painfully
hot, proceeded to sip the scalding beverage.
" Do you like riding ? " he asked, abruptly, after a pause.
" I cannot say I have never tried, but I should like to try
very much."
" Never mounted a horse ? " asked the earl, in great sur-
prise. " Oh, it's the best fun possible. I have a couple of
horses here one is quite quiet and steady the very thing
for a lady. I wish you would try him one day in the Bois. I
could teach you. Do try, Miss Miss "
" Grey," supplied Maggie. " I wonder what Mrs. Berry
would say to such a project," she continued, laughing, startled
at the familiarity of the suggestion, yet finding it impossible
to resent the boyish frankness with which it was spoken.
" Oh ! she would let you. But need you mind her? Is she
THE WOOING O'T. 67
your aunt, or " He was speaking quite eagerly when the
Polish count appeared with Miss Maclaggan on his arm.
" I am come to beg a cup of tea, Miss Grey," she said in
her best manner, " if you and Lord Torchester don't want it
all to yourselves."
" Oh, we can spare you a little," returned Maggie, gayley.
" You should have heard M. Kockanowska's ' Last Pensee,'
my lord," continued Miss Maclaggan ; " It was really most
original and full of startling harmonies ; why did you not
come ? "
" I don't care for music, " said Lord Torchester, in a dis-
contented tone. " What's-his-name, Jones, sings some funny
songs ; I like them and Scotch songs, but I don't care for the
piano."
" Mrs. Berry, I think, wants you to play her accom
paniments. Miss Grey," resumed Miss Maclaggan.
" Does she ? Then I must leave you to pour out your own
tea," said Maggie, rising.
The rest of the evening passed much as usual. Lord
Torchester played piquette with the baroness; there was
more music ; Maggie sang with Mrs. Berry, and was a little
annoyed by the perseverance with which Lord Torchester
pressed her to sing alone. Then there was some talk of a
party to see the waters play at Versailles ; but at last all were
gone, Lord Torchester having staid to the very last.
Mrs. Berry, though considerably elated at having a guest
of Lord Torchester's rank, did not appear so satisfied as
Maggie expected. " His lordship is very nice, and all that
but he is quite a boy, not to be compared to the count ; and
do you know I met him yesterday in the Tuileries Gardens,
and he was near passing me. J wonder if he will come next
Wednesday ? '
" I don't imagine he will," said Maggie. " There can be
very little to amuse him here ; he can play cards and gamble
with M. De Bragance better elsewhere ; and I do not think
that he cares for music or conversation. Yet, " I wish he
would come he is so like poor Cousin John.
" Like your cousin, the chemist's son ! " almost screamed
Mrs. Berry. " Well, Maggie ; you are the queerest girl ?
and so ill-natured about the count ! One would think he was
a cheat or some such thing ; and all because he likes me
better than you. Don't be so horrid jealous. You can't ex-
pect to be noticed like me. You haven't my figure, or fortune.
68 THE WOOIAU O J T.
or any thing ! not but that you're a nice genteel-looking gir\
I ; m sure."
" My dear Mrs. Berry," returned Maggie, taking the
widow's hand kindly with a sweet amused smile, " I do not
compare myself with you in any way ; but I am too grateful
not to be anxious for you ; and indeed I do not like the Count
De Bragance ; he may be very well-bred and handsome, and
fond of you at present but if you marry him I am certain he
will spend all your money and make you wretched. Do,
dear Mrs. Berry, promise to have nothing to do with him
till you consult Mr. Dunsford and find out all about him."
Mrs. Berry seemed struck by Maggie's words and earnest
manner. She remained silent for a few moments, and then,
another train of thought sweeping her rather rambling brain
she exclaimed rather coquettishly, " How do you know the
count wants to marry me ? I am not at all sure about it."
" I am though," returned Maggie, shaking her head with a
pretty air of solemnity, " and I am also sure that" he has no
money of his own, and wants yours. "
This was an unfortunate speech, and turned the widow's
amour propre against her young adviser's counsel.
" Upon my word, Miss Margaret, considering that you have
seen nothing nothing except what I have shown you you
are very ready to set up your judgment and give your opinion !
I suppose that I am neither so old nor so ugly but that a man
might care for me, with or without money."
" 1 am sure many might care for you very much," said
Maggie warmly, " but M. de Bragance is not one of them ; he
cares for nothing but himself. Do forgive me if I offend, but
feeling as I do about that man it would be wicked of me not
to speak out."
" He is too nice and pleasant to quarrel with," said Mrs.
Berry, as if to herself.
" You need not quarrel with him, but don't pray don't
marry him ! " returned Maggie, imploringly.
" Oh 1 I don't want to marry any one," cried Mrs. Berry,
pettishly. " And now I'm going to a sale with Madame VOK.
Garn, where I think I shall pick up some lace real point
d'Alencon a bargain. So I shan't be back till dinner time,
and perhaps not then. You needn't wait there's some potage
and cheese, and I know you'll not mind making out. If I
come back I'll bring a p&te or something with me. So good-
bye, Miss Wisdom."
Maggie sat still where the widow left her, thinking more
THE WOOItiG 0-T. 69
deeply of realities than she usually did. For her dislike and
distrust of M. De Bragance she neither could nor attempted
to account, but relied implicitly on the instinct which told he
was bad ; and now, although Mrs. Berry was no longer the
woman of fashion and importance, she once appeared to
Maggie's unsophisticated eyes, she was sincerely grateful to
her. But the widow's faults and follies were now visible
enough to her young protegee, and so Maggie sat and pondered
over all things by the light of what worldly wisdom she had
gathered from the various novels in which she had largely
indulged.
Yes, she fancied she could read it all. Something
indescribable in the style of the card-playing convinced hei
that the accomplised count and his associates were chevaliers
d' Industrie, that the widow would be a victim to one or other
of them ; and then not unnaturally the question arose, What
would become of herself ?
While endeavoring to solve this difficult problem, Rosalie
entered, and said with some surprise, " A letter for
mademoiselle."
A letter was a wonderful event for Maggie, but seeing it
was directed in the uncertain spider} 7 writing of her cousin
Bell, she was not eager to open it. As, however, she found
nothing very attractive in the contemplation of her own pros-
pects, she proceeded to examine its contents.
It contained but a few lines from her cousin, saying that all
was well with them, and enclosing another letter directed to
" Miss M. Grey, care of Mr. John Grey, chemist," etc., in a
hand she did not quite recognize. It was a foreign letter,
directed in a clerkly hand, and after looking at it for a minute
or two as people will do, in the vain hope of divining what
they need only open the letter to ascertain, she glanced at the
signature, and to her great delight read the name of John
Grey.
It was dated nearly four months back, and though brie
considering the distance it had come, gave a tolerably full
account of his adventures. He had been successful in his
search for gold and precious stones with the wild exploring
party he had joined, though the existence of such valuables
in the neighborhood of Cape Colony was not then dreamed
of by the mass. On his return he found himself mastei of
sufficient funds to set up in business on his own account,
taking as a junior partner his original friend, who had helped
him in his start, but whose firm had failed just after John had
y THE WOOING ffT.
left Cape Town. " If, as I hope I shall, I succeed in scrap
ing some tin together," he continned, " I shall want a wife to
help me take care of it, and I might go further and fare worse
than with my sweet little cousin. I suppose you are quite a
woman by this time, but I forget how old you are old enough
to keep your own with the missus, I hope. You always had a
spirit of your own. Anyhow, keep up your heart, stick to
your rights, and do not forget your affectionate cousin, John
Grey."
Maggie smiled as she read, not unpleased, yet slightly dis-
dainful ; for the image of John, whom she dearly loved, was
impressed upon her memory as the very type of awkward
strength, with a wild red head and a squeaky voice. Alas !
in the wide world this was the only creature that seemed to
love her or think about her ; and he was so far away, and
perhaps scarce in earnest in what he wrote. Nevertheless,
this letter seemed a kind guarantee that it was possible she
might draw forth that affection which is the crown of woman's
life. So Maggie fell into a natural day-dream of love and
marriage. She had no ambitions, poor child ; only a little bit
of fastidiousness, born partly of innate refinement, and partly
caught from passing glimpses of pictures galleries and cav-
aliers of gallant bearing at the various German spas through
which she had wandered.
Maggie's ideal, however, was very vague, simple, and girl-
ish ; a hero artist husband, in a black velvet painting coat,
who would adore her, and yet require to be soothed and
borne with in his divine impatience of destiny and the
general degradation of life, while she the prudent home
genius, would perform miracles of management, until some
potentate would recognize the obscure genius, and fame and
fortune come pouring into her lap.
Rousing herself from her reverie with a laugh at her own
folly, Maggie turned again to her letter. It was evident
Cousin John had never received the one she had written to
him from Dover, and now, as she was seldom so free, she
would sit down and answer this at once. Knowing that ink
was unsafe in the sacred saloon, Maggie spread her modest
appliances for writing in the salle d manger, and was scribbling
away with a pen and a full heart, when Rosalie again entered
this time with a card.
"Un Jaime monsieur desire parler avec mademoiselle"
Maggie looked at the card. " The Earl of 'Dorchester 1
How provoking ! I suppose he has some message for Mrs,
THE WOOING ffT. 71
Berry," and without a glance at the mirror, Maggie went
quickly into the saloon, where she found the young mart
standing very uncomfortably in the middle of the room.
" Mrs. Berry is out," said Maggie, after the first salutations,
" and will not return till late."
" I do not want Mrs. Berry," said the earl, abruptly, and
looking with shy pleasure at Maggie, who, though in the
simplest of blue muslin morning dresses, showing her white
neck and arms through its clear folds, was a very pleasant
object her soft brown hair, a little roughened by resting her
head on her hand during her frequent lapses into dreamland
while she wrote, and the look of happiness called up by her
cousin's letter still lighting her eyes and dimpling round her
lips.
" I don't want her," repeated the earl.
" Then what do you want ? " said Maggie, smiling, too
content to be ceremonious.
" Oh, nothing, only, when will you come and ride as we
were arranging ? "
" As we were arranging," repeated Maggie, laughing out-
right. " I do not think we arranged anything, and I do not
think anything of the kind can be arranged."
" Why not ? " asked Lord Torchester, placing himself near
her. " There is no reason why you should not ride with me.
Why should Mrs. What-do-you-call-her refuse or object ? "
" Perhaps she would not. Still, you know, I could not I
don't know how to ride/'
" I could teach you ; and it would be such fun."
" But I have no habit, or hat, or whip."
" You could get them easily in a day. My tailor makes
habits."
"And then, are we to ride all alone together? That would'
not be comme il Jaut, my lord."
" I know that ; but De Bragance, or Jones, or Miss Mac :
something would come," insisted the earl, eagerly; "or your
aunt herself she's quite young enough and light enough ta
ride."
" Well, you may ask her ; but I imagine it won't do. And
she is not my aunt."
: Well, what relation is she ? Why are you with her ?.'
You are not a bit like her."
" I live with her as her companion, and keep her accounts,
and help her in any way I can ; but we are no relations. I
do not think she considers me grand enough for a relation,"
72 THE WOOING O'T.
" Doesn't she ? " cried the earl, with unfeigned astonish-
ment. " Why ? But," interrupting himself as if suddenly
perceiving that his curiosity was indiscreet, " would you not
like to ride with me yourself ? "
" Yes, indeed I should ; but not here away in the country
away from all these people."
" Ah ! yes ! I wish we were away from them all," said
Lord Torchester earnestly, with a sigh and a quick but
tender glance ; and then he stopped abruptly, and colored to
the roots of his hair.
" Perhaps you might find a desolate island somewhere to
}et, if you inquired," replied Maggie, with a sweet, frank
laugh that quite neutralized any sting of sarcasm there might
have lurked in her speech.
" I say, don't you chaff a fellow so awfully," said the earl,
good-humoredly. " Why, you are as bad to chaff a fellow as
my cousin Margaret."
" Have you a cousin Margaret ? That is my name."
Is it ? Ah ! I like Margaret."
*' Which ? " asked Maggie, fearlessly looking on the earl as
a mere boy, immeasurably her junior (though despite his
immature appearance he was really a year older), and amused
by his ill-concealed admiration while she fretted notwith-
standing at the interruption to her delightful occupation of
writing to Cousin John. So, while Lord Torchester struggled
to find some suitable and express phrase in which to reply,
Maggie continued : " I am sure you will excuse me if I tell
you that I want very much to finish a letter to a very dear
friend, now that Mrs. Berry is out ; and I so seldom have
any time to myself. Pray don't think me rude or unkind."
" No, no. But, Miss Grey, can't I stay till you've finished ?
I'll not disturb you," said Lord Torchester, imploringly; for
teing in truth a very spoilt child of fortune, he had no idea
of giving up a pleasure to suit another's convenience ; and
Maggie's simple girlish manner put him delightfully at his
ease.
" Oh, yes, if you care to stay ; but it will be so stupid to
you. There is no paper. Can you read French ? "
" Pretty well."
"There are plenty of books, then," said Maggie, pointing
to the table, " but I shall be some time."
" I don't mind. Look here, Miss Grey are you writing in
the other room ? Can't I take my book there ? "
THE WOOING OT. 73
" It is pleasanter here," said Maggie, beginning to feel a
little worried by his presence.
" No, it isn't do let me come ? "
" I am not sure it is quite right ; but come." So saying
she led the way to the salle a manger. The earl, snatching
up a yellow volume at random from the table, followed close
on her heels, and when she sat down to her letter placed
himself exactly opposite.
But the pleasure of the occupation was over. Fancy and
thought would not flow while Maggie felt the young man's
eyes were fixed upon her. So after scribbling on for a short
time she found herself writing so incoherently that she put
down her pen as if she had finished, and looked up, slightly
flushed with the consciousness of having been watched.
' By Jove ! " how fast you write ! " exclaimed Lord Tor-
chester, who had greatly enjoyed lounging at his ease with
the unrestricted privilege of staring to his heart's content.
" Now, there is nothing I hate like writing. I am an hour
over two or three lines."
" Are you ? " said Maggie, with a sunny, honest smile at
this confession. " You had better employ me for a secretary.
Mrs. Berry will give me an excellent character."
" I wish you were my secretary ! " exclaimed Lord Tor-
chester eagerly, and then colored crimson.
" Remember, I expect enormous pay," continued Maggie,
as she put away her writing things ; " half a guinea an hour,
at least."
" How you chaff ! " said the young peer admiringly.
" How shall I get rid of him ? " thought Maggie.
" Suppose you write a letter for me now," said Lord Tor-
chester, as if he had divined her thought and was determined
to defeat it. " I ought to write to my mother ; and somehow
or other I find it so hard to manage."
"What!" cried Maggie, in undisguised astonishment,
" hard to write to your own mother ? Is she not kind and
fond of you ? "
" Yes ; I suppose no one in the world cares so much for
me ; but somehow or other I never know what to say to her,
she is so good."
" Can you not describe your friends ? M. De Bragance,
for instance," returned Maggie, with a playful malice then
changing her tone and train of thought " If I had a mother s
how delighted I should be to write to her everything, any
thing J "
74 THE WOOING ffT.
" But you haven't, I suppose ? " said Lord Porchester, not
unsympathetically.
" No," said Maggie, her kindly honest eyes filling with un-
shed tears ; " I have lost my beautiful darling mother, and
no one else will ever love me like her."
" I don't know. A husband might," suggested the earl.
4 Possibly, but by no means probable," cried Maggie.
*' And now suppose I were to say I really must leave you ?
Would you think me very rude and be vexed ? "
" Of course I shan't ; but why must you go ? It is so quiet
and pleasant here. Must you go ? "
" Yes ; I have something to do for Mrs. Berry."
" Can't I go with you ? " persisted the young man, thinking
the something was some out-door errand.
" Hardly," said Maggie laughing ; " the important business
which calls me away is to put some white lace on a black vel-
vet bodice for Mrs. Berry before six o'clock."
** No ! have you though ? " cried the earl, opening his eyes
still wider : " I thought women in shops did all that sort of
thing."
" And a good many women out of them, too," said Maggie,
feeling very anxious to get rid of him " so I must bid you
good-bye, you see. Have you no message for Mrs. Berry ? "
she added with instinctive precaution.
" No yes, tell her I want you both to ride with me, and
not to forget the Versailles party."
"Very well," returned Maggie.
Lord Torchester shook hands with her loosely, and de-
parted.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE day of the Versailles fete was splendidly fine, and
Mrs. Berry in radiant spirits.
She had been to a soirte the evening before with Mrs.
Maclaggan, where she had been much flattered by the atten-
tions of M. De Bragance, displayed too before her former
friends and rivals Lady and Miss Salter, who had unexpect
sdly re-appeared. They usually made periodical visits to
Paris, and finding Mrs. Berry accepted in what they consid-
ered brilliant society, they were quite empressi in their ex-
pressions of pleasure at the meeting, and made themselves so
THE WOOING O'T. 7$
agreeable, that Mrs. Berry patronizingly asked Miss Salter to
accompany her on the following day to the fete, particularly
as the Earl of Torchester, " such a nice young fellow," as
Mrs. Berry observed with a thrilling assumption of familiarity,
was to be of the party. The invitation was eagerly accepted,
and occasioned Mrs. Berry to announce a change in her in-
tentions, and the motives thereof, with her usual candor, to
Maggie.
" Now what do you think of that ? " she concluded, after a
vivid description of what " she said," and " he said," and how
Miss Salter looked, and how devoted the count was.
"I suppose you were very much amused," replied Maggie.
" Lord Torchester was not there."
" No ! he doesn't care for society ; you know, between our-
selves, he isn't to be compared to the count ; he is not half
so like a real nobleman."
"He is quite different, at all events ; but he was here this
evtning and left this bouquet," presenting a splendid one.
" What, for me ? gracious goodness ! " cried the widow.
" Well, 1 suppose so ; but really, he was so contused and
stupid about it I hardly know."
" At any rate it was not for you, and it must be for me,"
exclaimed Mrs. Berry, never for a moment counting Maggie
in the category of girls who could have bouquets presented to
them.
" Very likely, said Maggie, smiling. " I'll ask him to-mor-
row."
" I declare to goodness, Maggie," cried Mrs. Berry, reprov-
ingly, " you no more mind what you say to his lordship than
if he was quite a common person."
"Well, and so he is, very common," returned Maggie, on
purpose to horrify her patroness.
" If ever a girl was spoilt you are, Maggie, and you haven't
a grain of sense in some ways. However, that's neither here
nor there. About to-morrow the Salters were so civil and
all that, I thought I ought to ask Selina to come wkh me to-
morrow, but of course I can't pay for two besides myself, so
you'll not mind staying at home, Maggie. You see, Selina is
Lady Salter's daughter, and very fashionable-looking, and all
that (you can't think how well-dressed she was to-night) : and
it will perhaps be better she should come with me."
" No doubt," exclaimed Maggie, without a shade of bitter-
ness ; "but I am so sorry to miss seeing the grand flte," and
tears of disappointment rose to her eyes.
7 6 THE WOOING O'T.
" Well, I am sorry too, but it can't be helped, I'll take
you somewhere else instead see if I don't. And now we
must go to bed."
To bed accordingly they retired, and though it may detract
somewhat from Maggie's heroine-like dignity, it must be ad-
mitted that she cried a little before dropping to sleep, both at
the disappoi. inent and the sense of her own insignificance.
But ^then she now knew and estimated Mrs. Berry so thor-
oughly that the mortification was but slight. " She likes me
twice as v.'ell as Miss Salter," she reflected ; " she likes me as
well as she can like any one, and by-ancl-by, if I deserve it, I
shall find some one to love me as well as I could love, and
that v/ill be a great deal."
The morning was blight and fresh, and Mrs. Berry, clad in
mauve cllk and \vhite lace, with malachite ornaments picked
up, let UL; Y/hioperc in the Palaise Royale, and " dirt cheap "
iool::d (rhe fior.ght) nearly as bright, with the help of a
Maggie saw 7 icr start with some regret, for which the widow
little cared, r.s she drove off to the rendevous, which was the
railway terminus in the Rue St. Lazare, calling en route for
the elegant Selina.
Mr., Mrs., and Miss Maclaggan were there before her, and
also M. De Courcey Jones ; and the necessary introductions
had scarcely been made when Madame Von Garn and Mon-
sieur Grenior, her attendant in ordinary, diove up en fiacre, as
Mrs. Berry exultingly observed, while she had arrived en remise.
The station was crowded to excess, all the world being en
route for the fete, and sufficient delay ensued before M. De
Bragance and Lord Torchester made their appearance to
make the widow's heart beat a little, lest the bright particular
stars of the party should be lost in the crowd.
" What has become of the count and Lord Torchester ? "
asked " The Maclaggan,'' who was got up in a wonderfully
fresh and sporting style, and, but for his red nose, would have
been a handsome man quite debonnair, in a green cutaway
coat, drab trousers, a white waistcoat, and a rose in his but-
ton-hole.
" Can't think," replied De Courcy Jones. " I hope Tor-
Chester will turn up, for he was to give us a grand spread,
and though I believe- it is all ordered, we could hardly walk
in and devour it without the nost."
" My brother will not fail us, at all events," said the bar
.oness, emphatically. " The attraction for him is too strong.
THE WOOING O'T. 77
Mrs. Berry looked conscious and simpered. Glancing
round the party her heart swelled with pride and pleasure to
observe, first, its distinguished and fete-like aspect, the gay
costumes of lace and muslins, and bright silks, gorgeous par-
asols, and delicate, pale gloves ; secondly, that her own toilet
was quite unapproached. Still, there were a few agonizing
moments, and then the tall figure of Lord Torchester was
seen slowly forcing his way through the crowd, followed by
De Bragance and the musical Pole.
" Mille pardons" whispered De Bragance ; " it was all the
fault of that lazy milord. He was one hour and a quarter
over his toilet."
Mrs. Berry smiled most graciously. " I am sure I no not
know whatever we should have done without you."
" Now, then,' cried Mr. Maclaggan ; " there is no time to
lose we have missed one train already. Who'll take the
tickets ? "
"Oh, I have brought my fellow, Antoine," said Lord Tor-
chester, in his slow tones ; " he'll do all that, and save a mon-
strous lot of trouble. How do ye do, Miss Maclaggan ?
How do ye do, Mrs. Berry ? Eh ? where is Miss Grey ?
what's become of Miss Grey ? "
" Oh, she has a slight cold, and stayed at home. My young
friend, Miss Salter, here," with a wave of her hand, " was
kind enough to come in her place."
The young earl was too much stupefied by this sudden dis-
appointment even to raise his hat. He stood a moment with
a fixed stare and drooping face, while Mrs. Berry went on, " I
am sure, my lord, I don't know how to thank you for these
beautiful flowers."
" Oh ! ah ! the flowers," said Lord Torchester, glancing
at them ; and then, lighting up with a look of sudden indig-
nation, turning to his valet, a supple, keen-looking Italian, a
I rofessed traveling servant, he drew him aside, and gave him
a few energetic directions. " De Bragance," he called, aloud,
as the man left him, here ! Sorry I can't go down with you
I I must write some letters ; but I will probably join you
later. You must take all these people to dine at the Hotel du
Reservoir. Antoine has orders about everything, and you
must act for me."
" Parbleu \ " cried the count, who by no means admired this
originality on the part of the young man he wished to keep in
leading-strings. " This will hardly do. What is your mo-
tive ? Where "
78 THE WOOING O'T.
u What's that to you, mon cher ? " interrupted Lord Tor-
tester, sulkily, and in a tone that showed that he would not
bear interference.
" I say, Mrs. Berry, madame, Mrs. Maclaggan. I'm very
sorry that I'm obliged to go back. Business of importance
can't be helped hope to meet you at dinner ; " and not
waiting for a reply, he walked quickly away.
" Gracious goodness ! " cried Mrs. Berry, " what has hap-
pened, count ? I have not offended his lordship, have I ?
Won't he come ? "
" Madame, I cannot account for the bizarreries of your
compatriot. Let me hope that Lord Torchester's absence
will not destroy your enjoyment."
"Law, count ! I am afraid you are horridly jealous ! I'm
sure I don't mind ; only it's a disappointment to the other
ladies." This was proudly disclaimed, though probably
true.
" Here is Antoine with the tickets," said M. De Bragance
impatiently, " and we must hope to see our illustrious friend
at dinner. AKons, mes amis, allons ! "
When Mrs. Berry drove away, Maggie felt not a little deso-
late. She sat down to the piano, and played dreamily waltzes
and airs which she knew by ear, thinking all the while, in an
indefinite manner, what should she do all the long day that
was before her, and what should she do also all the long life
that was before her ? Mrs. Berry would certainly marry some
one, if not the count, and then her present occupation would
be over. However, she now knew a great deal of French
and German, and a little of music ; so she might offer herself
as a governess. It would be much better to have a definite
position, however humble but she did not know enough, not
half enough. She would go that moment and write a French
exercise, and try to do the same every day. She rose quickly
full of the idea, and, turning, almost knocked against Lord
Torchester.
" Why ! what is the matter ? anything wrong ? " she ex
claimed, her first idea being that some terrible accident had
taken place, and Mrs. Berry had sent for her.
" No, nothing all's right," said Lord Torchester. "But
how's your cold ? and why did you give away my flowers ?
Are you really too unwell to go to the fete ? "
" I never was better," cried Maggie.
" I thought so ? " said the earl. " I have come back for
you. I have a carriage at the door. We'll catch the ten
THE WOOING O'T. 79
o'clock train and be in time for everything. So make haste,
put on your bonnet and things."
" And you have come back for me ? " said Maggie, coloring
with pleasure. " How kind of you ! I will get ready as quick
as I can ; but I must change my dress, so you will not mind
waiting ten minutes."
" I'll wait as long as ever you like," cried Lord Torchester,
overjoyed at her ready assent, as he had anticipated some dif-
ficulties on the score of propriety. But no such objections
entered Maggie's head, the earl's simple statement that he
had " come back for her," conveying to her mind the impres-
sion that (probably owing to some good-natured suggestion
of his own) Mrs. Berry had sent him for her Maggie's gen-
eral ideas of abstract propriety being very indefinite.
" Thank you ; you are really very good ; " and she flew out
of the room. Hastily gathering her things together she abso-
lutely carried them into the sacred apartment of Mrs. Berry,
where there was more room and a larger glass, securing en
passant the good offices of Rosalie, with whom she was a
prime favorite.
" Man dieu, mademoiselle ! how content I am that you go
to the fete. But take care you go alone with this young
gentleman ? "
" Only to join Mrs. Berry," cried Maggie in all sincerity ;
" and as to the young gentleman, he is a mere boy."
" Ces garfons-ld sont bien dangereux" replied Rosalie, with
a solemn shake of the head.
" Soyez tranquil" said Maggie, with a gay sweet laugh.
" Point de danger, ma bonne amie."
" There now ! Lord Torchester I have not been long ? "
" Long ? no ! by Jove ! Why, you are quicker than my
mother, and I thought no woman dressed as quick as she
does. How nice you look ! " with hearty admiration.
" Do I ? I am very glad ; you will not be ashamed of me
one moment and I shall be quite ready ; " so saying, Mag-
gie quickly locked one or two drawers and placed the keys in
a cabinet, and hung the key of that by a ribbon round her
neck.
" Come along then," said the earl, leading the way down.
" I am afraid I must ask you to stop at a glove shop ; I
cannot do without a new pair."
" By all means. Stop at Rue de la Paix."
" Oh, that is a ruination shop. Shall we pass near some of
the passages ? "
80 THE WOOING O'T.
" Those passage places are mere rubbish. No, no ; come
to my man. I'll choose them," cried the young peer, excited
into unusual animation by the extraordinary success of his
own unwonted decision and originality, the pleasure he had
evidently given, and the brightness of his companion. For
his lordship was quite right ; Maggie did look very nice. She
had put on the famous and carefully preserved white muslin
with the blue ribbons, and a fascinating little white lace bon-
net of her own contrivance, with bouquets of forget-me-nots,
resting on her soft brown hair ; the light of sudden unlooked-
for joy flushing her smooth young cheek and deepening the
color of her frank, gray eyes.
There was not a happier pair in Paris at that moment, for
their happiness was so child-like in its innocent freedom from
all deeper thought or passion.
" Here's the place," cried Lord Torchester, opening the
xloor. " What's your number ? "
" Six and a half."
" All right," and he dashed into the shop.
" I trust and hope he will not bring me a pink pair,"
thought Maggie. " And what an awful price he will pay ! "
" Now then," said he, returning after a few minutes' ab-
sence, " I wasn't sure about the color, so you can choose
from these " opening a packet of a dozen pairs, and placing
them on her lap. To the coachman : " To the embarcadcre,
quick."
" Oh ! Lord Torchester, but the gloves ! Here is a
beautiful straw-colored pair, won't you return the others ? "
" No, of course not they are all your size."
" But indeed, indeed, I would rather not," urged poor
Maggie.
" Nonsense ; they are not worth talking about. I'll put
them in my pocket for you till we come back."
Every step of the delightful route was full of enchantment
to the young earl now tasting, for the first time in a life
which had hitherto been strangely denuded ol excitement,
the divine intoxication of Love. To give his arm to Maggie
and lead her to the waiting room gave him so grand a sense
of manliness and responsibility. Then he went alone to take
their tickets, and enjoyed that too. For though painfully shy
in society, he was physically brave enough ; and the habit of
command which a youth and boyhood observance from his
inferiors had induced, made htm fancy he had but to speak
to insure obedience. So he got the tickets and counted the
THE WOOING OT. Si
change carefully ; for wealthy and high-born though he was,
the young man had instinctive sense of the value of money,
which was one of his many contradictory characters.
But neither his money nor his lordly tone could procure
him a special carriage ; so he was obliged, with his fair com-
panion to make two of a party of six.
One of these, a small, fair man evidently an Englishman
of condition after looking steadily at Lord Torchester and
Maggie with a half amused smile, leant forward and said in
a soft, drawing tone, " How do, Torchester ? "
" Oh ? " returned w the earl, " I did not expect to see you
here thought you were in Norway." They shook hands.
" I came back about a week ago with Geoff Trafford, and
left him in London. Going to the fete like myself, all alone,
I suppose ? " he added with a sly glance at Maggie.
" No," replied Lord Torchester stoutly. We are to join
our party at Versailles and dine at the Hotel du Reservoir
about six. If you are not engaged you had better join us.
My friends will be very happy to see you eh, Miss Grey ? "
(to Maggie).
Maggie smiled and bowed ; and the two gentlemen contin-
ued at intervals to talk of people and things and horses
all far away beyond Maggie's ken till the journey was over.
Arrived at Versailles, they found the faithful Antoine in
waiting with a smart open carriage.
As they were about to enter it, the earl suddenly said : " I
ought to have introduced you. Lord Alfred St. Lawrence
Miss Grey. Shall we take you up to the palace ? "
" No, thank you," replied Lord Alfred, with a profound
bow to Maggie and a whispered "fas sibtte," to his friend.
" At six, then, remember," said the earl.
Lord Alfred raised his hat, and watched them out of
sight.
The sudden defection of Lord Torchester threw a decided
damp over Mrs. Berry's party, in spite of the strong effort
made by the ladies to disguise the effect. Miss Salter felt
that she had been cheated and imposed upon ; Miss Maclag-
gan, that a chance, however faint, had been lost; and
Madame Von Garn, that a legitimate prey had escaped. Per-
haps Mrs. Berry was the least affected. But a visible and re-
sentful cloud hung on the count's brow.
Nevertheless, the bright day, the gay concourse ; the beau-
tiful, stately gardens, produced their effects ; and by the time
the party had placed themselves to view the playing of the
6
82 THE WOOING ffT.
waters, a happier frame of mind had been restored. Mrs.
Berry, with that eagerness to see all she could for her money,
which distinguished her, had mounted on a chair, and stead-
ied herself by laying her hand on the count's shoulder. She
thus enjoyed a commanding view around, and had not stood
there long when she attracted universal attention by a loud
exclamation, almost a scream of astonishment : " Why, my
goodness, count! if there ain't his lordship and Maggie, I
declare ! " Whereupon all eyes were turned upon them.
" However did you come ? " cried Mrs. Berry, with some
indignation.
" I found Miss Grey was all right," put in Lord Torchester
with surprising readiness, " so I persuaded her to come."
" Did you not send for me ? " said Maggie, infinately
distressed. " I quite understood that you did ; though,"
pausing for a moment, " I cannot say that Lord Torchester
said so ; but I quite believed you did."
" That which we wish it is easy to believe," said the count,
sneeringly on which the ladies also smiled superior.
" Exactly so," cried Maggie, nettled into a candor which
was her best defense. " I wished very much to come : and
Lord Torchester unintentionally, no doubt gave me the
impression that Mrs. Berry had sent him for me. However,"
she continued, addressing her patroness, her eyes filling with
tears of mortification and wounded feeling, " I can very
easily return ; there is no crowd going up, and I can go back
alone." She half turned away : but Mrs. Berry, whose amout
propre was quite satisfied by the count's attentions, caught a
sudden mental glimpse of the true state of affairs, which
struck her as likely to tend to her own glorification ; so she
beamed her kindliest smile upon Maggie, and exclaimed,
" My dear child, don't be a silly ! You know I am truely
pleased to see you only you must take care of your chest.
Have you brought nothing warm to tie round your throat ? I
-*m sure I am quite obliged to you, my lord for the day has
turned out so fine there can be no risk."
Maggie turned her head to hide the look of contempt
which she could not keep from her mouth and eyes, and as
she turned, met those of Lord Torchester fixed upon her,
; ' If you wish to go back, I'll take you," said he, confidentially
but audibly. Whereat looks of intelligence passed from one
to the other of the observers, and Maggie immediately rose
immeasurably in importance, but lost the small degree of
popularity she had possessed.
THE WOOING OT. 83
She was miserably uncomfortable for a short tune ; but
then the earl was so kind, Mrs. Berry so cordial, Madame
Von Garn so friendly and polite, that by the time the waters
began to play, the happy joyousness with which she had set
out was restored ; and her gayety, her quick perception of
what was droll or beautiful, gave Lord Torchester's slower
nature a taste of such keen enjoyment as he had rarely
experienced.
Then when the display was over, they all separated, to
meet at the hotel for dinner. The earl's pleasure was a little
damped by Maggie's good-natured attention to Miss Salter,
from whom Mrs. Berry soon disengaged herself, and who was a
stranger to all the rest. Maggie felt she could not desert her,
so the refined Selina had the infinite gratification of the earl's
attendance. Certainly Maggie gave them a good deal of
exercise. She was eager to see every specially historical
locality, and quite overwhelmed Lord Torchester with her
knowledge of the place.
" How can you think of it all ? " he exclaimed. " I can't
remember half these things."
" I always liked history ; and then you know, I thought I
was to come here to-day, so I got a book about it and read
up."
" What a goose she is ! " thought Miss Salter.
'* I am afraid I am tiring you," said Maggie to her com-
panions, " but I shall never have such a chance again, so I
want to see all I can."
" Well, I have seen it before," said Miss Salter, " I will
just sit down by this window while you go through the
galleries, if you will come back for me."
"All right," said the earl. "Come Miss Grey, if the
pictures don't tire you I shall say you have enormous powers
of endurance. I say," as they got from Miss Salter, " can't
you sit down and rest ? Here is a nice quiet place on the
terrace now we have got rid of that awful old woman."
" But then I shall not see half what is to be .seen," said
Maggie, rather ungraciously.
" Never mind, you can come again when there is not such
a crowd. I'll come with you whenever you like."
"My dear Lord Torchester," a little impatiently, "you
know that is quite impossible. You see how every one
looked when we joined Mrs. Berry to-day. I was so annoyed,
for there can be no real harm in my going anywhere with
you."
84 THE WOOING O'T.
" Not a bit, by Jove ! " cried the young peer with muc~
energy ; " so it's no matter."
" Yes, to me it is a great matter ; but we need not talk
about it. I have to thank you for the pleasantest day I ever
had."
" Is it though ? " said Lord Torchester, coloring. " I am
sure it is the pleasantest day I ever spent. Do stay here,"
entreatingly, as she made a movement to rise. " I hate
standing about staring at these miles of pictures."
" Oh ! you are so like my Cousin John," cried Maggie,
laughing. " He was a great tall creature, and so lazy
sometimes."
" Who the deuce is he ? I never heard of him before."
" He is my uncle's eldest son, and he was always very good
to me better than any one else."
" Hum ! " returned Lord Torchester rather suddenly ;
" and I suppose you were very fond of him ? "
" I am very fond of him," said Maggie, emphatically with
some dim sense of mischief.
" Where is he in London ? "
" No, he has been with an exploring party in South Africa."
" Awful set of scamps these traveling exploring fellows,"
said the earl, with a considerable sense of relief. " You
should hear my Cousin Geoff Trafford's stories of them. I
say," looking at his watch, " it is six o'clock we must go
find that friend of yours Miss Pickle, or what do you call
her ? But I promise you, you shall see all the pictures and
everything another day."
Lord Torchester's little dinner was most successful. Lord
Alfred St. Lawrence was a welcome addition to the party.
He was a swell of a good type, and very ready to make him-
self agreeable in his own slow, sleepy way. Somehow or
other he produced even a greater effect than the earl, with
his higher rank and reputation of wealth. He told lots of
news, paid a subdued sort of homage to the baroness, and
broke a lance or two in repartee with the count.
Maggie did not care much for the dinner ; she was very tired,
and a little worried by the attentions of Lord Torchester,
which were more calculated to gratify himself than their ob-
ject.
At last it was all over, and the party returned to Paris, sep-
arating at the railway station, except the count and earl, who
escorted Mrs. Berry and her young friend to their abode.
THE WOOING OT. 85
" It is too late to ask you in," said Mrs. Berry, feeling uncer-
tain as to the condition of her larder. " I am sure we have
had a delightful day."
" We could not think of intruding on you," replied Mon-
sieur De Bragance ; and milord has promised to take coffee
ind a pipe at my apartment ; but allow me " He drew Mrs.
Berry apart, and spoke to her for a few moments.
" Listen to me, Lord Torchester," whispered Maggie in her
hirn ; " don't go with M. De Bragance to-night don't prom-
ise me ! I'll tell you why another time do mind what /say."
" Well, I'll try to get off ; but what can you fear ? "
" I consider you have promised," said Maggie, holding out
her hand. " Good-night."
" Good-night, Miss Grey stay, here are your gloves."
And the earl did get off the petit parti carrk which the
count proposed ; and instead of going to bed unlocked his
writing-case, and with much labor, and the destruction of di-
vers sheets of " extra thick cream-laid coroneted note," indi-
ted a voluminous epistle, which toward midnight he folded,
sealed, and directed, with a sigh of relief, to
"THE COUNTESS OF TORCHESTER'
.t.j "The Beeches,
" Richmond."
In another apartment of the Hotel Meurice, Lord Alfred
St. Lawrence smoked a choice cheroot, and scribbled a couple
of pleasant gossipping letters to his kinsfolk and acquaint-
ance. Toward the end of the second he wrote : " I have
just returned from Versailles, where we had a grand display
of water-works and an awful crowd. However, I must ad-
mit that French cockneys are less objectionable and unsightly
than English ones. By the way, I dined there with Torches-
ter, and am much edified by the results of the countess'
specially careful training. What would Exeter Hall have
said to find him escorting a verry pretty piquante nameless
girl to the fete, all alone by themselves, and afterwards en-
tertaining a very cloudy society at a capital dinner at the
Hotel du Reservoir ? The women were ' very awful,' with
the exception of the above-mentioned young lady ; and the
men ' legs,' I can't help fancying. I have heard or known
something of one of them, who, by the way, seemed a gentle-
man. You have been longer on the town than myself, have you
86 THE WOOING O'T.
ever heard the name of ' De Bragance ' ? I think some one
ought to look after Torchester. I imagine he is in a bad set"
This was directed to
" GEOFFREY TRAFFORD, Esq.,
" Travellers' Club, London."
CHAPTER IX.
JOHN GEORGE BOSCAWEN TRAFFORD, Earl of Torchester,
" was the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." In
these words may be traced the source of an education some-
what exceptional.
Lady Torchester belonged to the latter times of the Evan-
gelical movement, and was deeply imbued with the spirit of
her party. In her mind was mingled that extraordinary " con-
glomerate " of maxims and opinions which was not uncommon
in the generation now passing away, wherein the personal
humility which would accept rebuke from any Chadband
whose zeal disposed him to bestow it, was chequered by the
pride of caste, which blended harmoniously with the exclu-
sive doctrine of election.
The late earl an honest-hearted gentleman, with the ap-
pearance of a farmer and the tastes and habits of a sports-
man cared for none of these things. Religion, alms-giving,"
Dorcas-clubs, and worsted-work, were, he thought, the legiti-
mate occupations and amusements of women, as sport and
farming of men. He was a kind and considerate husband,
?.nd, had such a thing been feasible, would willingly have had
a preserve of parsons for his wife's gratification, that she
might enjoy a greater variety of sport ; or not to speak pro-
fanely a diversity of expoundings, exhortations, and extem-
porary prayer. However, it was well understood that his
own ways were by no means to be interfered with. Any num-
ber of privileged ministers might offer up any amount of
prayers for his spiritual welfare, but this was their limit.
Having an unbounded respect for his wife's character
and justly, for the countess was emphatically a good woman
he left her sole guardian to their only child a big, bony
boy of six recommending her, however, to take counsel in
all matters of difficulty with his dear and valued brother^
Geoffrey Trafford.
THE WOOING OT. 87
The Honorable Geoffrey different in all respects, save
honesty, from the deceased earl did his best to keep the fa-
natical element from mingling too largely in the young
peer's education, and many were the ungodly amusements
which he owed to his uncle's intervention ; but unfortunately
the Honorable Geoffrey died before the earl had attained his
twelfth year, leaving a son about twenty-four, the only survi-
vor of several children. Thus the noble widow was left
helpless in the hands of the strictest Pharisees which the
Evangelical school of that day could bring forth.
Lord Torchester's boyhood was consequently at once gloomy
and indulged, Lady Torchester always endeavoring to atone
by concessions in what was not forbidden for restrictions as
to unholy indulgences. The contamination of school was, of
course, to be avoided, and a resident tutor of Low Church
doctrine and aristocratic principles was installed as supreme
director of the young man and his mother. Indeed the coun-
tess hesitated long about college, dreading the evil tendencies
of Oxford, just then showing the cloven foot of Tractarian-
ism ; and nothing but the energetic remonstrances of young
Geoffrey Trafford, who had gradually succeeded to his father's
post of prime counsellor to the mother, and prime favorite
with the son, saved the earl from a completely home educa-
tion. Cambridge was selected for him as the least dangerous
of the two universities, but even here he was watched and
guarded to an incredible extent.
That the young man was not driven into the wildest exces-
ses by such a system was owing probably more to a certain
heaviness of nature and proud shyness, than to any inherent
nobility or acquired principle. There was little real harm in
the lad. He was selfish, both from nature and training, just
rather than generous, and inclined to seek relief from his
own dullness in some strong excitement, which, coupled with
a lurking strain of avarice, disposed him to gambling ; but he
was affectionate, truthful, though hitherto oppressed with a si-
lent, sullen resentment against his mother (whom yet he loved)
and the " forty-parson power " brought to bear against his
natural longing for godless sports, companions, and freedom ;
so he characteristically held his tongue and bided his time
till his twenty-first birthday should bring him emancipation.
The day but one following the Versailles fete was some-
what cold and showery in London and vicinity. The count-
ess of Torchester had a wood fire burning in the luxurious
boudoir of her dower house, " The Beeches," a charming
88 THE WOOING O'T.
villa, the grounds of which joined Richmond Park, so that
from the windows of the principal sitting-rooms a wide
domain appeared to spread around. The countess sat in an
easy chair near one of the windows. She was a tall, large,
fair woman, handsomer in middle age than in youth, and
aristocratic in style, without special refinement of face or
figure. Her costume of rich black silk, her cap of point lace,
her surroundings of deep-toned buhl and inlaid ebony cabinets
and rare china, the hangings of delicate chintz and lace, all
bore the stamp of solid and mellow taste harmonizing well
with her age and character.
A book of sombre aspect, entitled " Saved so as by Fire,"
lay open on her lap, her large white-jeweled hands rest-
ing crossed upon it as she leaned back in her chair, with
something of weariness and despondency in her attitude and
expression ; for Henrietta, Countess of Torchester, was de-
pressed by an attack of severe cold. She was dissatisfied as
to her son's occupations and associates, and her study of
" Saved so as by Fire " was to say the least of it, not enliven-
ing.
Her solitude was broken by the entrance of a grave, almost
lady-like, woman, a few years younger than herself, with a
cap on her head and a small tray, bearing a broth-basin, in
her hand.
" Some beef-tea, my lady ; you have scarce tasted anything
to-day."
" Thank you, Gifford," said Lady Torchester, politely ;
" I must try and eat it. I think if Hammond would bring
me a glass of burgundy I should like it."
" Certainly, my lady," said Gilford, drawing a small table
near, and placing the tray and basin upon it.
She left the room, but soon returned, followed by a stately
and reverend-looking butler, bearing the desired beverage.
" What did Mr. Trafford say when he called yesterday ? ""
asked Lady Torchester, slowly sipping the rare burgundy.
" Mr. Trafford made many inquiries about your ladyship,
and then asked to see Mrs. Gifford."
" Oh ! it was you he saw, then ? " said the countess. Did
he say how long he would be in town ? "
" No, my lady ; Mr. Tafford was extremely sorry to find
you had been unwell, and hoped you would let him know
when you could receive him, as he would not leave town
without seeing you. He also asked for my lord's address."
THE WOO TNG O'T. gg
" And you told him Meurice's, Paris ? " asked the countess,
languidly.
" Yes, my lady."
" Well, leave me, Gifford ; I shall try and sleep. When I
awake bring me the small writing-table. Put on some more
wood ; I am cold."
Gifford made up the fire softly, drew down the blinds,
placed a footstool under his lady's feet and departed.
Silence reigned over the mansion, for the countess had no
guest rather an unusual case as she generally had some evan-
gelically inclined young lady in training, and a colonial bishop
or two, or a batch of missionaries ; besides, she was very hospi-
table to her own and the late earl's numerous relations albe-
it, in general an unsympathic and ungodly set so Hammond's
vocation was suspended for the time, there being no late dinner.
He was therefore at liberty to read the paper to the dignified
cook and housekeeper, while William, the footman, stole
away to the stable and discussed the odds on the coming
Dorcaster with the coachman. The only interruption was
the arrival of the afternoon post, and that disturbed Mr.
Hammond but momentarily, to give the countess' letters to
Mrs. Gifford, who promised to deliver them to her ladyship as
soon as she should wake.
About six o'clock the drowsy quiet of the establishment
was suddenly and violently broken. Mrs. Gifford had taken
up her ladyship's tea, and with it her letters, and had scarce
been fifteen minutes absent, when she rushed back to the
housekeeper's room, exclaiming, " Oh, Mr. Hammond., some-
thing dreadful has happened ! Run to the stables ! My lady
says one of the grooms must ride off to London this moment
for Mr. Trafford, and follow him, wherever he is, to bring
him down she is writing him a note stay," as the startled
butler was leaving the room, " Giles or Thomas is to take my
lord's chestnut with the white foot."
" What, Miss Kitty ! " cried Hammond. " Her ladyship
must be in a fix. I'll send Giles, he knows town bestj de
you go up for the note."
Gifford found her lady hastily folding and sealing the brief
billet an open letter of several sheets, written in a scrawling
hand, lay on the table beside her Lady Torchester looked
pale and agitated, tears stood in her eyes, and her hand trem-
bled as she gave the note to her maid.
" There," she said, in a voice so changed that Gifford start-
90 THE WOOING O'T.
ed, " tell the man he must not give it to any one out Mr. Traf-
ford himself : he must find out where he is and follow him."
About an hour after the countess had dispatched her note,
two gentlemen sat down to an admirable little dinner in the
well-appointed dining-room of a very comfortable suite of
apartments in the Albany.
One, a stout, gray, elderly man, with a high white cravat
and some assumption of old-fashioned style in bis attire,
enough to be eminently respectable without eccentricity.
His bushy grey eyebrows overhung quick resentful, bright
eyes, the keen and somewhat belligerent expression of which
was considerably counteracted by a genial mculh and a full
under lip. His companion and host was a man about thirty,
or perhaps more, tall and slender, slender to leanness, but
redeemed by a certain width of shoulder and stately settling
of the head from the sort of insignificance that appertains to
leanness. He was dark as a gipsy, with coal-black hair, wav-
ing naturally, but thin upon the temples, which had a craggy
look ; his eyes, though large, were too deep set, and he cer-
tainly could not be termed handsome : but a look of extreme
intelligence, and a smile at times singularly, almost caressingly,
sweet, saved him from ugliness. He was clean shaved, ex-
cept for a fringe of long, silky, black whisker far back upon
the cheek ; but both mustache and beard were clearly marked
by the blue-black shade on his lip and jaw. He was well dress-
ed in accurate evening costume, and while we are describing
him, was engaged in cutting a longitudinal slice from a loin of
mutton served saddle fashion a rich, brown, juicy slice, with
a border of creamy fa^.
" I am aware that lamb is the correct thing just now, my
dear Bolton," he said, in a pleasant, cheery voice, and refined
accent, " but I am sure you have too much good taste not to
prefer, as I do, the mature to the immature."
" Quite right," replied Bolton, with an approving chuckle,
" lamb, and milk, and water, and all the rest of it, may suit
school-boys and school-girls, but give me the full flavor of
ripeness thank you, thank you, I cai come back again.
When I was staying at the Knight of Derby's last autumn
(our great Irish client, you know) they had very first-rate mut-
ton, very exceptional mutton," with a grave shake of the
head "and they used to serve it with woodcock gravy.
That is, a woodcock slightly gone, roasted, the flesh picked
off the bones, and rubbed down to thicken the gravy ; I never
tasted anything finer," emphatically.
THE WOOING OT. 91
" A good idea ; and now, Bolton, what is your dinnef
wine ? "
" Claret, if you have claret ; but what with the peculiar
vintages and the vin ordinaire with which you are flooded
now, I scarcely hope to taste claret anywhere save in my
own house."
" I hope you will find mine drinkable."
" Ah ! you decant it ; that is a good sign," as the only ser-
vant who waited, a foreign-looking man, with heavy mustaches
and pierced ears, placed the claret beside him. The banquet
proceeded quietly, diversified by occasional remarks on food
and its preparation from the elder gentleman, who evidently
considered eating a serious occupation. At last he sent
away, and suggested cheese, without the intervention of
sweets, "for," he added, " having known you from your youth
up I take liberties, you see."
" I should think you fairly entitled to so much with me ;
but cheese will come naturally, for I did not see the necessity
of encumbering ourselves with what is termed a ' second
course.' "
" Bah ! " rejoined the guest, " sweets are an abomination,
only to be provided for women and idiots."
" Of course you take port after your cheese ! It is so long
since we dined together, you see I am not quite sure of your
tastes."
" Port ; yes, certainly ; and if it is only as good as your
claret, I shall have dined well."
" You may leave us, Lemoine," to the servant, as he placed
the wine on the table. " I can ring when I want you."
" Where did you get that outlandish fellow ? " asked Mr.
Bolton, as he leaned back in his chair and sipped his port
with an air of grave enjoyment.
" Oh, in Canada he is a French Canadian ; but you
must have seen him before ; I have had him six or seven
years."
" And pray, how many months of those six or seven years
have you spent in this great center of civilization ? Ah ! my
dear Mr. Trafford, it makes me what shall I say ? almost
dyspeptic to think of the way in which you are wasting your
life and throwing away your chances."
" I am infinitely obliged for the interest you take in me,"
returned Geoffrey Trafford, with just a tinge of sarcasm in
his pleasant voice and smile ; " but do you know it seems to
me that you have wasted your life more than I have ? "
92 THE WOOING CT,
" Oh, I know your line of argument, but I don't admit youi
conclusions. Remember where I started, and where you did.
Now I have got up almost as high as I wish, and you excuse
me are really nowhere."
" But I am thirty-two, and you excuse me are well, let
us say fifty-two."
" And a fraction," said the elderly gentleman, with a fat
laugh. " I grant you have some time before you, but none to
spare, my young friend, none to spare. Besides, though 1
cannot accuse you of wasting your substance in riotous living
(at least the riot never reached my ears) you have managed to
get through a large, a very large amount of money. Now
or never you must think, not of retrenchment, but of re-
trieving your fortunes."
" Yes," said Trafford, thoughtfully, as he slowly pulled and
stroked one of his black whiskers with the long fine fingers of
a slight, well-formed but sun-burnt hand, slight enough almost
for a woman, but looking as though they had been used to
work of some kind. " Yes, you startled me yesterday when
you showed me the exact state of my affairs. I can't quite
remember what I have done with it all, for I protest that I
have led a highly virtuous life compared with many nay
most of my friends. However, I have, on the whole,
enjoyed myself considerably."
" But, my dear boy, you haven't above half your capital
left, and that will scarce produce you nine hundred a year."
" Still a fellow can eat, and drink, and dress, and travel on
that, I suppose ? "
" Well, he need not starve absolutely ; but he is only a
poor devil in London ! All ! if you had stuck to your pro-
fession you would have been well on to the woolsack by this
time with the Torchester interest to push you in Parliament
and your own ability for you would have been a first-rate
pleader. But it's not too late yet. OM Franklin is well
inclined to retire, and a Trafford would be sure to carry
Muddleborough against any one."
" My dear Bolton, Trafford or no Trafford, I could not go
in on the Tory interest."
" Well, if you choose the Liberal side you have a wider
field, and there are lots of heiresses among the Rads. What
you want is a rich wife and a seat in the House."
" I abhor Radicals ; ay, and heiresses, too. There is an
innate vulgarity about an heiress."
" Bah ! What are you ? I do not say you must believe so
THE WOOnvc CfT. 93
and-so, but you must adopt a party ; and as to heiresses, you
cannot remember your own mother, or you would not have
condemned them wholesale."
" I do remember her," said Traftord, in a low voice.
" Ah ! she was a woman such as I never saw before," con-
tinued the other, " or since. All the rest I ever met were
puppets, more or less silly ; good to pass away a leisure hour
or two, or to help a man's fortunes if they had money, but
otherwise nothing nothing at all."
"You horrible old heretic ! / do not think so. If I did I
would certainly forswear matrimony ; but I am anxious to
hear what the scheme is at which you hinted, which is to be
safe and lucrative."
" Here it is," said Mr. Bolton, drawing his chair in closer,
" and remember this a strictly confidential communication.
We have of late years acquired many clients among the
greater people of the City ; and, as a solicitor is almost nee
essarily in his client's secrets, I am aware that a new
association is about to be formed to carry on one of the oldest
and best-established banking businesses in the city. Even to
one so ignorant of such matters as you are, the name must be
familiar" Oldham & Garret."
" Yes, but why the deuce do they take a lot of people into
the concern if it pays the original men so well ? Of course
the name is perfectly familiar to me."
" O ! the reasons are all clear and right enough, and once
the thing is declared there will be a regular scramble for
shares ; but I think I have interest enough to secure you sut
ficient to increase your income very considerably. As to my-
self, I intend to put every spare pound I can muster in it.
" I am quite willing to leave it to you, my dear Bolton,
You will do infinitely better for me than I can do for myself."
" I wish I could persuade you to take to your profession
in earnest. With your connections, the law offers a splendid
prospect, and "
His further persuasions were interrupted by the entrance
of Trafford's servant with a note.
" From Lady Torchester, sir, and her servant is waiting an
answer."
" I'll ring," said Geoffrey Trafford. " You must excuse,
me. Ten to one Torchester is in a scrape."
The letter was very short, and the next moment Trafford
exclaimed, *' A mystery ! What do you make of this, Bolton ? "
94 THE WOOING ffT.
" DEAR GEOFFREY,
" For God's sake, come to me at once, and let us strive
together to save my son.
"Yours in the deepest distress,
"H. TORCHESTER."
" There's something radically wrong here," said the man
of business, screwing up his mouth. " Lay any money it's a
low marriage. Just the sort of misfortune to befall so
virtuously brought-up a youth. Awkward thing, virtue, some-
times ! But if he has passed the rubicon there is no help.
Oh, those wretched maw-worm rascals, that got the control of
the poor countess ! I wish I had the rewarding of them."
" Well, I must go to the unhappy mother," said Trafford,
smiling, as he rung the bell. " Take another glass of port ;
and let us hope it is nothing worse than some error of
doctrine ; though I fear that in that case / should not have
been summoned. Who brought this ? " he asked, when the
servant had re-entered.
" Giles, sir, my lord's groom."
" Send him up." After a few questions touching the time
taken to ride up from Richmond, Tafford despatched the
man to put up his horse, and told Lemoine to call a cab.
" There is a train about eight-thirty or quarter to nine ; I
shall catch it." he said to his mentor, who continued to sip
his port and pick out a fat olive occasionally from the dish.
" Very sorry to have our pleasant tete a tete suddenly broken
up," he continued, as he drew on a light overcoat to hide [his
evening dress. " But I fear something serious is gone
wrong. I feel uneasy on Lady Torchester's account, she is
wrapt up in that boy. He is rather a cub, but he has not
fair play."
" Fair play ! No. He has been sedulously prepared to
become a dupe, a victim, or a rout:, or all. However, my
clear Mr. Trafford, do not forget our own afiairs in your
kinsmanly sympathies. Do not let the next six months pass
without deciding on a career, and then throw yourself into it
heart and soul. Meantime turn over what I have suggested,
and let me know your decision to-morrow ; there is no time to
be lost."
" I shall be with you at twelve, and probably consult you
about my poor aunt's troubles."
" Oh ! this affair will be in my hands, no doubt, soon the
family solicitor is in the family secrets."
THE WOOING OT. 95
" Cab at the door, sir," said Lemoine, and shaking Bolton's
hand warmly, Geoffrey Trafford ran down stairs.
The Countess of Torchester was pacing to and fro in her
luxurious sitting-room, with pale cheeks, clasped hands, and
tearful eyes, when " Mr. Trafford" was announced.
The poor lady had known no rest since she had dismissed
her messenger more than two hours and a half before, and
a deep gloom hung over the household, who from her silence
augured some frightful event.
" My dear Geoffrey, you are very good ; even my agonized
impatience hardly expected you so soon."
" I certainly lost no time. So sorry to find you in such
distress. What's the matter ? "
" Read that," said Lady Torchester, handing him the
letter which had caused her so much grief.
" Read it aloud," she added, sinking into an easy chair ; " I
want to understand it quite."
So Trafford, with sundry stoppages to decipher the young
earl's hieroglyphics, read as follows :
"Mv DEAR MOTHER:
" I have not written for some time ; in fact, I had nothing
particular to say. I have been to a good many musical parties
among the English people here. I like music better than I used.
I have also some French acquaintances very good fellows
and I can manage to speak French with them a little.
" Now, my dear mother, I must tell you that I have met a
young lady the most charming creature I ever saw ! It
isn't that she is so handsome, but she is so pleasant and
natural ; and she has such a stunning figure "
" A what ? " asked the countess, with a suppressed sob.
" He means a very fine or graceful figure," explained
Trafford, and proceeded :
" I am miserable if she is out of my sight ; and she is so
good-tempered and jolly, that I am sure I shall never find any
one else to make me so happy. I think she likes me very
much. So I have quite made up my mind to marry her as
soon as it can be managed.
" Now, I hope, my dear mother, you will not make any
objections, as it would distress me very much to marry with
out your consent, for I am sure no man ever had a bettei
mother than you have been, and you will always find me
grateful ; but I must marry Maggie (her name is Margaret
96 THE WOO INC, &T.
Grey, and I know you will like her very much. I ought to
mention, however, that she is an orphan, and has no fortune,
but of course that is no consequence ; she is living here with
a widow, an Englishwoman, who seems to have adopted her,
and gives very nice parties musical parties. I believe her
father was a very distinguished artist (I mean Miss Grey's),
but she never bores you about her family, which is so sensi-
ble. I daresay worldly, cold-hearted fellows like Geoff
Trafford and old Bolton will say I am making a foel of
myself, but I don't care ; and I have heard you too often
talk of the hollowness of the world to suppose you will care
for rank or riches.
" Miss Grey is very religious, goes to church regularly,
and all that sort of thing.
" So write to me, dearest mother, and send me a nice mes-
sage for Maggie. Do not delay, for I should not like to
settle everything until I hear from you.
" Your ever affectionate son,
" TORCHESTER."
Trafford ceased, and looked up at the countess with an
amused smile which he could not repress. But she had
covered her face with her handkerchief, and moaned audibly.
" A bad business, my dear aunt, I confess ; but we must not
give it up without a struggle."
" Oh, Geoffrey ! What an awful blow ! Who can she be ?
Grey ? Is there any distinguished artist of that name ? No ?
I thought not ! " as Trafford shook his head. " An adven-
turess, who knows a dependant on this dreadful woman who
gives these horrid parties. Surely the Lord has seen fit to
try me sorely ! From the hour that he came of age Torchester
has thrown off my influence. Even at the festivities on his
coming of age he would bestow more attention than I wished
on those Miss de Braceys, who are so worldly and so bold.
And then, Geoffrey, he went off (before he had even examined
his minority accounts) with Colonel Molyneux and his sister
Lady Gertrude Capel, to some seaside hovel in Wales, where
she had collected a party of the most eccentric people in
London (to say the least), and lived out of doors, fishing and
boating, and dining in the open air, while I had invited my
poor cousin Laura Wallscourt's daughter, a charming girl,
handsome, well-bred, immensely clever, to stay with me just
to let Torchester see that she was specially fitted to be his
wife ' and he never returned till near Christmas 1 I must sajf
THE WOOING VT. 97
he showed me much affection when I was leaving Mount
Trafford dear Mount Trafford ! " and the countess again
pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. " And he wished me
to remain there, but I was too anxious to see him well
married not to leave the family nest vacant," said her lady-
ship, with a sad smile ; " and now," she added, "see what a
termination to all my care and all my hopes."
" My dear countess, it is not terminated yet," said Trafford,
in a kindly tone ; slightly raising himself in his easy chair,
and, clasping his hands, he rested them on its left arm : the
repose of his attitude unbroken by the smallest movement
none of the slight twitches or fidgets from which so few
are free, but absolutely still.
" Ah ! the good God has sent you to me, Geoffrey," said
Lady Torchester, greatfully. " But how can I hope ? See
how resolutely he speaks here," striking the letter with her
finger. " This unknown girl will reign in my place, and drag
my son down with her ! "
"If we can but gain time," exclaimed Trafford, starting up
with sudden animation, and pacing the room. "You must
write to him at once."
" I will, I will," cried the poor lady. " I will tell him that
he must expect neither his heavenly Father's blessing nor
that of his earthly parent on so unhallowed a union ! "
" You must do nothing of the kind," said Geoffrey, quietly,
pausing opposite the countess, " if you do not wish him to
marry this girl within twelve hours of the receipt of your
letter. No, no, you must write a tolerably strong exposition
of your affection for him, and readiness to agree to whatever
will be for his happiness, but decline on the score of illness
entering more into the subject at present request him to
write more fully, as you are deeply interested in his plans
but commit yourself to nothing. He will then think himself
on the high road to secure your consent, and will wait accord-
ingly."
" But is not this tampering with the truth ? " .asked the
poor mother.
" Nonsense, my dear aunt ; you must by some means save
the boy there is nothing in the whole catalogue of social ills
comparable to a marriage such as this. And you see poor
Torchester has by his training learned to look on women as
something rather awful, and certainly, sacred ; so there will
be much difficulty in dealing with the matter. The all-im-
portant point at present is not to scare the game. I had a
7
98 THE WOOING O'T.
line from St. Lawrence this morning, which inclines me to go
to Paris myself, and see what is to be done."
" Do, dear Geoffrey ! Kindest friend ! You are my only
hope."
" Then, remember, I must have carte blanche, if necessary,
to buy off the girl ; for I expect to do more with her than
with him, and if she is what we imagine, it will not be easy
to make her loose her hold of an earl who is his own master
and of age."
" Do anything, anything ! " cried the countess.
" I wonder how old she is ? " said Trafford, half to himself ;
" age would make a vast difference in such a game. I might
make love to her myself," he added, laughing, " and sow the
seeds of jealousy."
" You must not be treacherous, Geoffery ! Anything but
that. I suppose it would be best to try her with money. I
would give her a thousand pounds."
" That would be a poor exchange for a coronet and fifty
thousand a year ! But we must do our best. I fear I cannot
start till to-morrow night ; I have an appointment of import-
ance in the morning, but I will do my utmost for my cousin
even more for your son," he added with his kindest smile.
CHAPTER X.
THE day which succeeded the fete was one of considerable
business with Mrs. Berry, and no slight bewilderment to
Maggie.
Though fatigued with so much unusual pleasure and
excitement, she brought Mrs* Berry her accustomed cup of
tea, at the usual hour, and to her surprise was met by exclam-
ations expressive of gratitude and admiration. " My tea
already ! I declare to goodness, Margaret, I never saw the
like of you for kindness and thoughtfulness ! To be up and
ready, just as if we hadn't been so awfully tired. I declare
every bone in my body is aching as if I had been beaten with
sticks ! Sit down, child ; take some tea yourself, and let us
talk over everything."
" Thank you ; I don't want any tea, but I am quite ready
to talk."
" Come now, Maggie ! tell me everything, from the very
beginning, how Lord Torchester came here, and what he
THE WOOING O'T. 99
said, and how you got to Versailles : don't leave out any-
thing."
" Very well," replied Maggie, smiling, " I will begin at the
beginning." And she very faithfully, though concisely,
detailed the occurence, ending with, "There is the whole
story, Mrs. Berry, and I assure you I should never have gone
with Lord Torchester, had I not been impressed with the idea
that you had sent him for me."
" Sent his lordship ! not I, indeed ! I never thought of
such a thing ! It never struck me that he was after you. In
short," added the widow, with a sigh, " I have been thinking
of some one else very different : but now, just answer me
straightforward has he proposed for you ? "
" Proposed for me ? " cried Maggie, opening her eyes wide
with astonishment, and breaking into a merry laugh. What
could put such an idea into your head. No, of course he has
not ! "
" But of course he will" returned Mrs. Berry oracularly ;
" and, Maggie, when you are being presented, with a coronet
on your brow, and your train trailing yards behind you, you
must not forget that you owe it all to me, though, indeed, for
that matter, I may be a countess by that time, myself."
" How can you fancy such nonsense ?" cried Maggie, accus-
tomed to her friends romancing on topics of love and marriage,
though infinitely surprised to find a place assigned herself in
such brilliant dreams. " Can you not see that Lord Torches-
ter likes me because he is at ease with me because I treat
him as if he were an English gentlemen, not a demigod ? He
may even be a little Ipris, but to think of marrying me ! Why
it is too ridiculous ! "
" I cannot make you out, Maggie, whether you are telling me
truth or not ; but we'll see. Mark my words, that young man
is wild about you and, my goodness ! what a beautiful lot
of gloves ! What a pity you have such a bit of a hand not
one of them will fit me ! Now I have fifty things to do to-day.
I want to go and see where is it ? give me my purse off the
the table, Maggie. Yes," opening it, and extracting a piece
of paper, " Koster and Rico, 49 Place de , that's it !
These are a Belgium firm, and have a lot of railway shares
they can sell very cheap, Madam Von Garn was telling me.
I must see them to-day ; and there is also a sale some-
where near the Port St. Martin, lace, and silks, and velvets,
will go dirt cheap. Now you would be of great use to me,
loo THE WOOING OT.
Maggie, but if you think the earl is likely to call to-day, and
make you an offer, I shall leave you at home."
"He will do nothing of the kind. I shall go with you"
cried Maggie, decidedly.
" Do as you like ; perhaps, if he finds you do not stay at
home, he will be more eager about you to-morrow."
" Mrs. Berry, you are quite mistaken ! "
" Maggie, you are a goose. There, get me some hot
water that is, tell Rosalie to bring me some."
Overpowered by Mrs. Berry's mingled entreaties and in-
junctions, Maggie allowed her to go forth alone on her expe-
dition, but instead of fulfiling her patroness' expectations by
putting on her prettiest dress, and setting herself in an elabo-
rate position of non-expectancy, she quietly but quickly set
to work to arrange the litter of finery, and having entered all
the items supplied her by Mrs. Berry, stole away up stairs to
her old friend the music-master's rooms, where she found that
worthy imprisoned by a bad cold, so expended her liberty in
reading the journal aloud, and listening to the poor gentle-
man's complaints.
Lord Torchester sat at breakfast a few mornings after the
Versailles expedition in a very bad humor.
Despite the most persevering efforts, he had never once
succeeded in seeing Maggie alone since that day of triumph.
Even he felt that such failures could not be the result of acci-
dent. Yet why should she avoid him ? She could have no
objection to him, for though too well accustomed to rank and
wealth to give much thought to either, he was quite aware that
the Earl of Torchester would be acceptable to most young
ladies. Then Miss Grey must see how tremendously fond he
was of her.
Here his meditations were most unexpectedly and unpleas-
antly broken in upon by the entrance of his valet, who an-
nounced " Mr. Trafford, my lord." Whereupon entered the
family mentor, with an easy, pleasant smile, looking as fresh
as if he had not been traveling all night.
" Well, Torchester, how goes it ? Did not expect to see
me, eh ? "
" No, indeed ! " returned the earl, in anything but a cordial
tone. " When did you arrive ? What has brought you
here ? "
" Oh ! I arrived this morning, and I came because I have
not seen Paris for more than three years. But if I bore you,
THE WOOING O'T. 101
or am in your way, why, Meurice's is big enough for both of
us."
And with another kindly, half-amused smile, Geoffrey Tr af-
ford drew a chair, and sat down opposite his kinsman, who,
accustomed from boyhood to associate " Cousin Geoff " with
pleasure and indulgence, felt his first instinctive impulse that
he would prove an " obstacle " melt away, and replied, in his
accustomed manner, " Why, of course I am glad to see you,
and certainly we need not interfere with each other ! Have
some breakfast ? "
" My young lord feels he has his head," thought Trafford.
" Thank you. I have breakfasted," he said.
" Did you see my mother ? " asked Lord Torchester, a little
suspiciously ; adding, " And how is she ? "
" I had a long talk with her shortly before I left," wisely
omitting the exact date of the interview," and she seemed
very unwell, but considered herself convalescent. She was
alone just then. However, Miss Brandon and that Tooting
saint, the man who preaches on some common, were expect-
ed."
" Then she will be quite amused," said Lord Torchester,
feeling more at ease, for he began to hope his mother had not
mentioned his matrimonial intentions to the keen man of the
world, whose opinion was of no small value in his eyes. " I
hate those Dissenting fellows, and cannot think how my
mother can bear them. She must clear the ' Beeches ' of
such rubbish before I go and see her."
" I suppose your mother may choose her own friends j
though I confess they are not lively companions. And now,
Tor, how do you like liberty, and Paris ? I suppose you are
in a world of gayety and excitement ? Which do you affect
French or English society ? but I fancy the former is not in
your way."
" I know a little of both Frenchmen and Englishmen.
You used to be a great deal here, Geoff."
" Yes, I once knew Paris well ; and if you would care for
an introduction to some of the ' Faubourg ' families, J could
manage it for you ; but I do not think you would care for
them. What are you going to do to-night ? I see Rose
Cheri sings at the ' Comique.' Shall we dine at the Troti
Frkres and hear her after ? "
"Why, what's to-day Wednesday? Sorry I can't. Mrs%
Berry receives to-night, and I generally go there."
102 THE WOOING O'T.
" Then if you generally go you can afford to miss the recer
tion occasionally."
"No, I would rather not. It amuses me more than the
Opera, where I don't understand a word they say. Besides"
Lord Torchester paused, struggling with unusually rapid
flow of ideas. His mother had evidently not said a word
about his letter to Geoff. What if he could get Geoff on his
side by introducing him to the irresistible Maggie : and there
could be no danger of rivalry, for Geoff began to be quite
an old fellow almost wrinkled, thought the earl, looking down
on his cousin's thirty-two years from an arrogant elevation of
youth, as he gazed at that gentleman's dark, quiet face.
" Besides what ? " asked Trafford, after giving him ample
time to finish his sentence. " Who is Mrs. Berry, and how do
you amuse yourself at her receptions ? "
" Mrs. Berry is a widow a woman of fortune, and has
very pleasant people at her house. They have music and
cards, and lots of talk and tea and and lots of things,"
returned Lord Torchester, running aground in his descrip-
tion.
" Well, I shall consider you very churlish, after refusing to
dine with me, you do not take me with you to this elysium of
yours."
" I don't know," said the young man, hesitating between a
strong desire to introduce his kinsman and a latent, uncon-
scious caution. " I am not so intimate with Mrs. Berry "
" As to introduce a country cousin," said Trafford, with a
smile, filling up the pause. " Really, Tor, I am afraid you are
ashamed of me. I have been so thoroughly rusticated that I
suspect I am not presentable. However, a reproduction of
' Valentine and Orson' might be very effective."
" Don't chaff, old fellow ! I'll take you if you like, and we
can dine together all the same."
" Thanks, my lord," said Trafford, good-humoredly ; " and
now, how long do you intend to bestow yourself on this sweet,
sinful capital ? Bolton, who confided many griefs to me in a
late interview, is most indignant that you have not taken your
seat as an hereditary legislator ; and gone in for the presiden-
cy of the ' Muddleborough Agricultural Society.' "
" He is an awful bore, that Bolton, and such a hard, selfish,
worldly old buffer ; but he cannot dictate to me now ; so he
may give it up."
" He is a shrewd, honorable fellow, who amuses himself by
an elaborate display of the worst side of his character ; at
THE WOOING O'r. 103
any rate, he possessed and deserved yourfather's fullest confi-
dence."
" Oh, yes ! of course ; let him stick to his parchment,
though, and leave my concerns alone."
" My dear boy, I did not intend to rouse your wrath against
Bolton. I assure you his indignation with you is nothing to
the vials he poured upon me : but we were always churns^, and
perhaps he has some right to find fault with me."
" Why, I have heard that you would be well on to the wool-
sack by this time, Geoff, if you hadn't been such an idler."
" No opprobrious epithets, if you please. I have tne utmost
contempt for an idler, and mine at least has been strenuous
idleness. But I shall go to work in earnest one day," added
Trafford a little thoughtfully, and as if to himself. " How-
ever, I suppose you have breakfasted, and I want to call at
the embassy before post time ; so I'll leave you. The Trois
Freres at six, then : and after, you'll have the daring courage
to present your country cousin to the charming widow that's
the programme ? "
" Oh ! Mrs. Berry ain't charming ; but her house is agreea-
ble and you'll see."
Trafford lit a cigar, and saying " Au revoir" then left the
room.
Lord Torchester looked after his cousin, a proud sense of
superiority swelling within him. Geoff little knew that he
was on the eve of making so charming a creature his own.
Geoff, poor old fellow ! had left all the glorious excitement
and intoxicating delight of such feelings far behind as he
advanced into that arid period called middle age : but
he, John George, Earl of Torchester, young and unexperienced,
and crushed by Evangelical tyranny, as he had been, possessed
it all ; he had made his way into the land of delight alone,
independently. Yes, this achievement was all his own, and
all the Bolton's and worldlings, and mothers, and Tooting
saints in the universe should not hold him back for enjoying
it.
Meantime Trafford good-naturedly penned a hasty note to
catch the midday-post and carry some shadow of comfort to
the mother's aching heart. " Things are not at their worst,"
he wrote. " Torchester hesitates to tell me of his entangle-
ment, and I have left him ignorant of my information. He
may next voluntarily confide in me, which will be an inch
gained We must remember he is his own master ; w can-
not coerce him. However, I am to be presented to-night, and
104 THE WOOING O'T.
shall be able to give you a fuller report to-morrow." This
done, he sallied forth to see what changes three years had
wrought in Imperialized Paris, and how far the brilliant socie-
ty to which he once had the entree was metamorphosed.
It was the first of Mrs. Berry's receptions since the Ver-
sailles fete, and the intermediate days had been unusually
uncomfortable to Maggie Grey. First, Mrs. Berry was very
unmanageable under the combined excitement of Lord Tor-
chester's presumed matrimonial intentions toward her prote-
gee and her own increasing admiration nay, adoration for
the accomplished count : though, had it not been for the
bewilderment of this last folly, Maggie would have found it
much more difficult to elude the young earl's pertinacious
efforts to procure an interview. Then Monsieur Grenier, the
dishevelled genius, had been troublesome and forward, and
sent her some impasssioned verses unsigned, it is true ; never*
theless, unmistakably his and she felt an unspeakable dis-
like nay, loathing of him, of which she was half ashamed.
Finally she had caught a severe cold, and though glad of the
excuse it afforded for keeping out of every one's way, it weak-
ened and depressed her.
However, on this eventful Wednesday evening things looked
a little brighter ; she was better. Mrs. Berry, absorbed in
her own affairs, had not mentioned Lord Torchester for almost
twenty-four hours, night included : and that young nobleman
having been kept at bay for four whole days, Maggie thought it
more than probable that his fancy for herself must have part-
ly evaporated, for it was impossible he could be so much in
earnest as Mrs. Berry represented : and then it would be so
pleasant not to have any painful, awkward explanation, but
just keep him on as a kindly, friendly acquaintance. So Mag-
gie cheered herself up as she dressed for the evening with
almost homely simplicity, the resources of her wadrobe being
limited. She had no exquisitely-becoming soi-disant invalid's
toilet ; so as she still felt the chilling influence of her cold,
she stoically buttoned a plain black silk dress from waist to
throat, with nothing but a white lace cravatte to relieve it ;
while her head-dress was only " a bunch of blue ribbons, to
tie up her bonnie brown hair ; " the result of which was an
expression of strong disapprobation from Mrs. Berry ;
" Goodness, gracious ! what a dowdy ? I declare, Maggie,
you're the most contradictory, provoking why, I'd have lent
THE WOOING 0"T. 105
you my white muslin peignoir with the Malines lace if but
here's the count and it can't be helped."
So Maggie was spared the effort of re-dressing, and placed
herself contentedly at her tea-table.
Mrs. Berry's visitors were more numerous than usual. The
baroness came early, and was quickly followed by Grenier
and one of her Polish friends. Then Mrs. and Miss Maclag~
gan, and Lady and Miss Salter, and Mr. De Courcy Jones
arrived in quick succession, and a little later on, some recent
acquaintances Englishwomen married to Frenchmen, two or
three British " half-pays," habituh of Paris, passably well-
dressed and well-bred, and ready to enter themselves for the
"Berry Stakes," had the ghost of a chance offered itself came
in. From all these elements of the fair widow's society Mag-
gie felt a curious shrinking a certainty, which she could
neither define nor explain, that they were not commeil faut.
It was the instinct of a nature utterly true and simply noble
against what was false and mean. Nevertheless, quite un-
conscious of herself and her instinct, Maggie poured out tea r
and smiled pleasantly, and exchanged civil nothings with
those who came for that beverage ; indeed, she felt ashamed
of her unamiable feelings toward Mrs. Salter when that ex-
perienced young lady, mindful of the devotion she had wit-
nessed from a real life earl, placed herself persistently at her
side, was deeply interested in her cold, and full of regret that
she (Maggie) had not sent for her to come and see her or
read to her, etc., etc. " What a horrible nuisance that would
have been," thought Maggie, ungratefully, as she made
proper and polite replies.
" Do you expect Lord Torchester this evening ? " said Miss
Salter, in conclusion.
" I am sure I don't know," replied Maggie, in all sincerity ;
and as she spoke his lordship appeared through the curtains
which draped the doorway, between the salle d manger and the
salon.
Maggie was infinitely disgusted to feel herself' blushing
vividly ; and yet she was pleased to see " the boy," as she
called him, in her own mind. There was something honest
and manly about him that comforted her ; and the young
earl, as he marked the heightened color and look of unmis-
takable welcome in her soft gray eyes felt his heart swell with
pride and joy what mere words could tell ; nevertheless he
could only say no more than " How's your cold, Miss Grey ? "
and then the discreet Selina moved away. " Were you really
106 THE WOOING O'T.
so ill that you couldn't see me ? " continued Lord Torchester,
gathering courage as Miss Salter vanished.
"Well, I could have managed to have come down and
spoken to you if there was any great necessity ; but really I
have been very unwell, and do not feel worth much now."
" Worth ! " repeated the earl, with expressive emphasis ;
but while he spoke Mrs. Berry came in with a gentleman a
tall, slight gentleman, dark as a gypsy, and dressed with the
ineffable perfection that only a first-class London tailor can
produce.
As he spoke to the captivating widow, he smiled a smile so
sweet and frank, showing such an even row of white teeth,
that it would be hard to say which he was, plain or hand-
some.
"Well," said Mrs. Berry, as if in continuance of a sentence
or reply, " since you are such an Englishman, Miss Grey will
give a cup of tea, and Lord Torchester will introduce you."
So saying, she returned to the salon and the count.
" This is my cousin, Mr. Trafford, Geoff Trafford," said the
Earl, presenting him to poor Maggie, who felt suddenly and
strangely afraid of the dark, deep-set eyes turned so enquir-
ingly upon her. She, however, retained sufficient self-pos-
session to smile, bow, and offer the never-failing cup of tea.
" Geoff's a great friend of mine a capital fellow," continued
Lord Torchester, inspired by a sense of his own importance,
suggested by Maggie's blush and unconscious look of wel-
come. " He took me by surprise this morning at breakfast,
when I thought he was in Nova Zembla or Norway, or the
Lord knows where. He is always wandering about, Miss
Grey."
" Indeed ? " said Maggie, looking up with a smile, and a
bright blush, as she met the same inquiring but not unkindly
expression in the deep eyes that dwelt upon her so steadily.
" You must know," the earl went on, " that Geoffrey Traf.
ford is a mighty hunter an angler, and a great shot."
Maggie in heart did not wonder that such an eye should
insure a successful aim, but she limited her spoken remarks
to an inquiry as to the amount of sugar he required, and if he
liked cream ? Yes, Mr. Trafford liked cream and sugar, and
everything soft and sweet. He drew a chair beside the gen-
tle tea maker to his cousin's no small disgust for the earl
sc.m*bow expected every one to make way for him, though he
would have been greatly surprised had any one drawn his
attention to this phase of his character.
THE WOOING O'T. 107
Nevertheless Geoff Trafford sat on sipping his tea, talking
easily and pleasantly, making Lord Torchester talk also, and
better than usual ; he bestowed some pains, too, to draw out
Maggie, but with no great success, for she felt dull and sad.
This apparition of Lord Torchester's high-bred cousin with
his tranquil air of unapproachable superiority seemed to raise
a sudden barrier between her and her youthful admirer, whose
honest kindness had become a sort of stay to her, which made
him very welcome as a friend, however unacceptable as a
lover, and in neither character did she quite like to have him
taken from her, so she listened to Trafford's agreeably turned
phrases and well-put questions with a little undercurrent of
dislike. " He is cold and cynical, and dispises us heartily,
under all his good breeding," she thought. "And what busi-
ness has he to do so ? he is no better himself, I dare say ; "
and still she felt that he was leagues removed from the Gre-
niers and De Bragances of Mrs. Berry's society.
" Isn't it a shame, Geoff," said Lord Torchester apropos of
some remarks respecting the coming races in the Bois de
Boulogne, " Miss Grey will not ride, though I have offered
her Sultan whenever she likes ; he is a perfect lady's horse."
" How can you resist, Miss Grey ? " asked Trafford, " you
are not afraid ? You do not look like a coward."
" I hardly know if I am or not," said Maggie, " but as to
riding, it is simply out of the question. I dare say it is
very pleasant, but one of the pleasures that do not exist for
me."
" You are not sure of that," said Lord Torchester, so sig-
nificantly that Maggie colored deeply, with a look of much
annoyance, as she fancied she could observe Mr. Trafford
watching his young kinsman with a slightly amused air.
" If you will not take any more tea," she said, rising, " I
shall go into the next room. It is very warm here." She
led the way to the salon, where a couple of card tables
boasted the usual devotees, whose wrapt attention was all
unruffled by the loud buzz of talk and laughter .which filled
the room.
" Margaret," exclaimed Mrs. Berry. " I just wanted you to
accompany me in ' Ma Normandie.' Monsieur Kockanowska
has been teasing me this half hour to sing it, and there's the
count nailed to the whist table by that tiresome old Mac and
Mr. De Courcy Jones. Oh ! dear, Mr. Trafford, are you
devoted to cards like the rest of the gentlemen ? The only
io8 THE WOOING
one who has any sense on the subject is my lord here ; but
he is young enough to like the ladies best. Eh, my lord ? "
" Torchester always had excellent taste," replied Trafford
gravely. " Yet I fancy he is not quite averse to try his skill
and luck against other men, in which I rather think lies the
charm of gambling."
Lord Torchester looked uneasy. " Gambling is one thing,
and playing cards is another," said he.
" Next door neighbors, my dear fellow," returned Trafford
carelessly.
" Would you like to cut in yourself, Mr. Trafford ? " asked
Mrs. Berry. " They have nearly finished the rub at the
baroness' table, and I dare say the count has had enough."
" After you have sung," said Trafford, with a bow. " It is
some time since I played. I have been away in North Amer-
ica and Norway, and generally out of the pale of civilization,
so you must excuse my many deficiencies." As he spoke, he
stooped to raise some music Maggie had let fall, and placed
it before her ; while he did so, De Bragance called out in his
clear metallic tones, " Come, milord, have you no worship to
spare from Cupid to Fortune ? Have you quite deserted your
old habits and pastimes ? "
" Not quite," returned the earl, moving toward him. And
Maggie looking up at the moment, met Trafford's eyes, and
shook her head with such a meaning glance, that Geoffrey
suddenly took an interest in the whist-table, and was soon
deep in council with the baroness, and backing her with
small bets against Mr. De Courcy Jones, who, to Mrs. Berry's
disappointment, was the one who cut out at the end of the
rubber.
To Maggie the evening was wearisome and sad. The new-
comer, the earl's kinsman, seemed to bode her no good, and
she felt a presentiment that a change was coming to her for-
tunes, and that a painful one.
CHAPTER XI.
WHEN Trafford inquired for Lord Torchester the next
morning he found that his lordship had already breakfasted
and gone out to ride, so the prime counsellor sat down to dis-
cuss his coffee and omelet alone. While he ate he reflected
on the task he had undertaken, and the new lights breaking
THE WOOING OT. 109
in upon it. It was more difficult than he anticipated, but
from unlooked-for causes. While the earl kept his own coun-
sel, what possible right had he, Geoffrey, to interfere or to
offer advice? Then, if there was any objectionable point
about the lady to lay hold of, he might introduce the thin end
of the wedge ; but there was none ; a sweeter, honester face
he had seldom looked at; altogether, a modest, well-bred
young gentlewoman, he thought, smiling at the old-fashioned
words which suggested themselves to his imagination, as he
conjured up Maggie's figure and countenance with wonder-
ful clearness. " The young cub's taste is not so bad," he
mused, " and circumstances apart, I dare say she is a great
deal too good for him. However, the chance of her innate
superiority saving the house of Trafford from a mesalliance is
not to be trusted, and I see no way of interfering legitimately
but to make love to her myself, and it is so long since I
played any game of that kind that I fear my hand is out.
Nevertheless, I'll try ; " and Trafford musingly pulled his long
whiskers, and thought how he should manage to cut out the
earl, yet not to make too deep an impression on his inamorata.
The whole set surrounding his cousin were highly objection-
able. " Sharpers every one of them, except that tall over-
dressed widow and her quiet protegee. I fancy these women
have been the salvation of poor Tor's pocket at all events,
and kept him out of worse mischief so his future depends
on this pale, simple girl ; for if he contrives to propose, and
she accepts, why kinsman, counsellors, mother, and all, may
throw their caps at it ; there will be no holding him back."
Meantime the unconscious object of these meditations was
undergoing a severe morning's exercise with her mistress over
the month's accounts. "Why, Maggie, I had no idea that
these little receptions cost so much. I declare the last month
is near double what the one before cost."
" Well, Mrs. Berry, you would have claret and Frontignac
latterly, and then so many more people come."
" Ay, that's true," returned the widow complacently. " I
don't think there are receptions better attended, or by more
elegant people, than mine. I don't care who the other is,"
concluded Mrs. Berry, defiantly.
" They are very nice indeed," said Maggie, " though they
are rather costly. Shall you go on having these receptions ? "
" Yes, of course ! Why, I might as well quit Paris as give
them up ! I'd be just nowhere ! and now, Maggie, do tell
the truth has the earl proposed to you ? "
i io THE WOOING OT.
" No, Mrs. Berry certainly not and I am sure he never
will. Why, can't you see how improbable it is that he would
offend his mother and every one for the sake of a girl he
knows so little a girl in such a different position ? It is
quite ridiculous to think of it."
" Then, in my opinion, he is acting in a very dishonorable
manner," returned Mrs. Berry, in a severely virtuous tone,
" Why does he keep coming here, and winning your young
affections, if he doesn't mean it ? it isn't right."
" My young affections are a long way out of his reach,"
said Maggie, with a pretty, saucy pout. " What woman
could fall in love with an unfledged boy like Lord Torches-
ter ? That's all nonsense."
" Well, Margaret Grey ! I declare, a more unsatisfactory,
disappointing, and I must say ungrateful girl, never existed.
There never was such another chance offered to a poor thing
that was, in a manner of speaking, just a drudge with that
horrid old skinflint, your aunt. Haven't you a bit of pride
even ? to think of the triumph it would be to drive past
your uncle's old shop in your corroneted carriage, with your
powdered foot-men behind you."
" No, I have not," replied Maggie, stoutly. " I would
much rather marry some nice kind man no grander than my-
self, who would let me have my dear good uncle to dinner or
tea whenever I liked slippers and all."
" W 7 hy, Maggie, what a goose you are ! Don't you know
that, lords or commons, all men are pretty much the same foi
hating their wives' relations, and you'd have as little chance
of that sort of thing with a pedlar as a peer ? Come now,
don't be a fool ! Give that nice sweet young man his way.
Don't cry out till you are hurt, nor refuse till you're asked
and sure as you give Lord Torchester the cold shoulder he'll
be off to some of the grand young ladies as will jump at him,
and then no one will believe but that he was just tired, and
left you of his own accord," concluded Mrs. Berry, crowding
her negatives with restless energy. " So do now, for my sake,
Maggie, let things go on as they are ! You'll like him better
the more you see of him and and it would be such a pity
to let him go away just as my parties are getting all the
fashion ! So you won't snub him, will you, Maggie ? "
" No ! I like him too well ; but I don't think he will trouble
me with any proposals, and I cannot help fancying this Mr.
Trafford will do his best to set his cousin against me, and
you, and every one."
THE WOOING &T. in
* Do you know ? really ! that's very funny ! I am sure I
never saw a more elegant man Englishman I should say
so polite, and pleasant, and good looking Yes ! No ! Well,
not handsome, exactly."
" No, 1 should think not ! " cried Maggie, decidedly.
" Why, when he is not smiling he is quite plain ; even his
smile seems as much at as with you."
" Well, I'm sure," cried Mrs. Berry, her drowning hopes
catching at any straw, " I wouldn't let a man like that come
between me and such an elegant charming young nobleman
as Lord Torchester. Eh, Maggie ? "
" Oh ! Mrs. Berry, never mind do let us talk of something
else," cried Maggie, wearied out of patience.
" Very well," returned the widow, anxious to win her
important protegee to acquiescence in her ambitious views ;
" and I have a nice surprise for you. You know the grand
ball that is to be given at the Hotel de Ville on the 2oth
and everybody is just dying for tickets ! Well, the baroness
has undertaken to get me two ; I'll have to pay for them, but that
is neither here nor there ; and I'm going to take you, and
give you a new dress."
Mrs. Berry stopped abruptly, to allow for a proper out-
break of Maggie's feelings, and that inconsiderate but very
natural young person did start up from her seat with height-
ened color and dancing eyes, and clasped Mrs. Berry's
hand.
" Surprise ! Yes, it is indeed ! How good how very good
of you to give me such a treat ! and a new dress ! Why,
Mrs. Berry, I feel as if I could do anything for you even
marry Lord Torchester to-morrow. No ! really you are
wonderfully good to me ! but are you sure of the tickets ? "
" Yes, quite sure. Now, Maggie, I do hope you'll not keep
contradicting and aggravating me any more, for no one ever
could have your interest more at heart than I have. Now,
come, it's early yet ; let us go round to Madame Benoi's. and
see what we can get the dress for ; there's my white silk slip,
not my second best one, the one before that, it is scarce
soiled, and that will be a great help go, get on your bonnet,
and we will see what we can do before people begin to get
about."
This delightful surprise sufficed to banish Maggie's cares
and troubles very successfully. It is not in the nature of
nineteen t think of doubts and difficulties with a new dress
and a brilliant ball in immediate expectancy, and so she
112 THE WOOING O'T.
entered heart and soul into the discussion with the shrewd
modiste, who took a true French artistic pleasure in devising
something fresh and suitable for such a sweet, simple-looking
subject ; at last a white cloudy gauze, all flecked over with
silver sparks, which somehow or other had lain a long time
, on hand from some change of fashion, was fixed on, the price
fiercely battled over, and finally arranged, and then madame
produced some exquisite boquets of violets and moss with
trailing leaves of water-plants, so cunningly devised that
Maggie could not refrain from a little cry of admiration.
" Law, madame, they'll cost a fortune," said Mrs. Berry.
" Tenez," replied the professor, holding them against
Maggie's soft brown hair and fresh young cheek. " Casera
une coiffure defee. Mademoiselle, your sister will be charming
thus, with a freshness and simplicity altogether delicious.
Nothing can surpass it."
" What, then, will the whole come to ? " asked the widow,
hesitating, while Maggie listened breathlessly for her decision
and, presto ! the battle raged again. Kfranc advanced on
one side, a cinquante on the other. A final sigh of decision,
" It will be a lot of money, but I suppose I must have them."
" Without doubt ; these boquets were made for the dress,
and the whole for mademoiselle," etc., etc.
" There, now, Maggie," said Mrs. Berry, as they walked
back, choosing the shady side of the streets. " I have laid
out a small fortune for you this morning ; mind you don't
forget all you owe to me when you are rolling in splendor."
" My dear Mrs. Berry, you shall always have my hearty grati-
tude, "cried Maggie ; " and I fear that will be your only reward :
but," she continued, coloring with eagerness, " I do hope you
will keep my next quarter's allowance, all except a few
shillings I cannot quite do without, to help you to pay for the
beautiful dress. I should be so pleased. You will, will you
not?"
" Well, we'll see about it," returned Mrs. Berry, not reluc-
tant to have this subsidy to fall back upon, in case the object
of her unwonted outlay was defeated. " And now I must see
about my own dress I have chosen such a lovely rose brocade
at Delvigne's, and those point d' Alencon flounces I picked up
at such a bargain will look quite splendid. I must say I do
want to look well. Now, I'll go in and have a morsel of
lunch, and then I must go to Delvigne's and have my dress
tried on."
THE WOOING OT. 113
On arriving at home Rosalie informed them that " eejcune
milord" was reading in the salon.
" Indeed ! " cried the widow ; " how kind and friendly of
him ! " And she bustled in without allowing time for poor
Maggie to put in a word. She felt compelled to follow,
though feeling sorely embarrassed.
" How d'ye do, Lord Torchester ? I'm sure I am very glad
you came in and waited for us ; for what with drives and
shopping, and those tiresome galleries, one scarce has time to
speak to their friends. Now, do sit down, and what will you
take ? "
" Oh, nothing, thank you, Mrs. Berry. I haven't long done
breakfast. How do you do, Miss Grey ? How early you
are? I thought I would find you at breakfast."
" We were trying to get through a little shopping in good
time, and indeed I have not half done yet ; so I'm sure your
lordship will excuse me, as I must go out again ; but you may
as well stay and have a chat with Maggie, in the cool here
these rooms are nice and cool, ain't they ? "
"Deliciously cool," said his lordship, a little flurried with
the widow's delightful suggestion ; " the nicest rooms I know."
Maggie started, blushed, looked imploringly at Mrs. Berry,
but made no resistance ; how could she, in the face of her
protectress' munificent conduct of scarce half an hour ago ? "
" I suppose you are not going far ? " she said, timidly.
" No," replied Mrs. Berry, " only to Delvigne's to have my
dress tried on ; " and with a pleasant smile and encouraging
nod, the widow went her way, calling for " Rosalie " as she
went, but no Rosalie was forthcoming, and Mrs. Berry let
herself out.
A somewhat embarrassing silence followed Mrs. Berry's
departure from the salon which Maggie at last broke. " It
is getting quite like summer," she said, removing her bonnet,
and smoothing back her hair, " I wonder you do not hurry
away to your country home in England, or some such, shady,
leafy place ? "
" I have no such idea. It would take a great deal to draw
me away from Paris now" significantly. " You are not tired
of it, are you ? "
" Oh, no ! and there would be no use if I were ; but isn't
Mrs. Berry good ? " (the great news could no longer be kept
to herself) she is going to take me to the ball at the Hotel
de Ville ; won't that be delightful ? "
H4 THE WOOING O'T.
" Well, I suppose she would hardly think of going without
you ? "
" Oh yes, of course, she often goes to all sorts of places
without me : but this is so delightful, and I never was at a
ball in my life I suppose you have often ? "
" Not so often. I was at two or three last winter in the
country : but I did not care much for them you see I can't
dance."
" Oh ! " said Maggie. " Why don't you try ? I am sure
you could : I cannot believe you could not. It seems as nat-
ural to dance as to breathe to me."
" I dare say it does," replied her companion, admiringly ;
" but then you and I are very different. I say, how jolly it is
to be here quietly with you. I began to think I should never
see you again by yourself, I mean," and Lord Torchester
colored rather violently at his own audacity.
" Yes, it is always nice to be quiet," said Maggie vaguely,
and, opening her work-basket in the exigency of the moment,
drew out an elaborate piece of lace-work suited for a drawing-
room occupation. Prolonged pause, even more embarrassing
than the first. Lord Torchester revolves many modes of ad-
dressing his beloved, even thinks of going down on his knees
right off, but on reflection rejects all.
" I suppose you are going to this ball ? " asked Maggie, trem-
ulously with anxiety to lead the conversation her own way,
"Yes that is, I think the Embassy people said they had
an invitation for me."
" I hope you will go," said Maggie, imprudently.
" Do you do you, indeed ? " cried Lord Torchester, bright-
ening up and suddenly making an alarming approach to a
chair beside her. " I say, Maggie Miss Grey do you really
care whether I go or not, although I don't dance or or any-
thing, eh ? "
"Yes, Lord Torchester, of course I do" rather nervously.
" I seem to know you better than any of the others, and you
have always been very good to me."
"I good to you ?" said the young man, in honest surprise,
which spoke well for his innate chivalry. " I wish you would
be good to me*"
" That is quite different," returned Maggie, gravely, col-
lecting her senses, and resolved, if possible, to bring the earl
to his. " It is out of all rule that you and I should ever have
met : and when a man of your rank gives himself some trouble
to add to the amusement or enjoyment of a girl so far from
THE WOOING O'T. 115
him in social position, he deserves a kindly and grateful re*
collection when they naturally drift apart again."
" Why, Maggie (do let me call you Maggie), you talk like
a book a novel, by Jove but as to drifting apart, I've no
notion of anything of the sort unless you insist upon it, and I
don't see why you should. Look here now," and he caught
her hand with a sudden audacity, astonishing to himself.
" Look here, I am my own master, and "
" Monsieur Trafford ! " screamed Rosalie at the top of her
voice, and enter Trafford, cool, well-dressed, keen-eyed, with
the suspicion of an amused smile in the corners of his mouth.
The disappointed earl consigned his intrusive kinsman to
the regions down below, as he felt the decisive moment slip
from his grasp.
" Just in time, and no more," thought Geoff Trafford, as he
noticed the earl's frantic effort to push back his chair from
its tell-tale proximity, which prudent move was frustrated by
a little island of carpet, against which the leg struck with
maddening obstinacy. " Good-morning, Miss Grey. How
do you do, Torchester. Lucky to find you. How cool and
comfortably you look here ! "
Lord Torchester was crimson with embarrassment and
anger.
" Mrs. Berry is out," said Maggie. " Just gone out."
"Well, I was informed that she was at home, returned
Trafford, " or I should not have intruded."
" I am very happy to see you," said Maggie, and her voice
sounded sincere, for Trafford's entrance had been a great de^
liverance to her.
" And what did you want with me," asked Lord Torchester,
sulkily.
" To ask you to keep this evening free, if you have not
already disposed of it. For I have promised to present you
to Madame De Beaumanoir, and I think you would not be
sorry to have the entree of her house; besides Madame la
Marquise herself is very charming." ,
" I don't want to know her, and I don't care a straw about
her house. How did you pick her up? You have been
scarcely forty-eight hours in Paris," returned Lord Torchester,
sulkily.
" She is an old friend of mine, and yesterday I improved
the shining hour by calling on her, and this morning received
permission to present you. You must come, it will be an
education for you, Torchester."
n6 THE WOOING &T.
" Education ! Come, Geoff, I think that's a little too
strong. You must remember I am no raw schoolboy to be
snubbed now"
" I am well aware you have aspirations far beyond that
unfledged condition, said Trafford, quite unmoved by his
cousin's wrath, and with a dreadfully meaning smile. " How-
ever, if La belle Marquise had not heard of you as a very
different animal from a raw schoolboy, she would not have
cared much to make your acquaintance."
" And pray what could she hear of me ? " (still sulkily, but
with a deep undercurrent of selfish conceit just stirred.)
" Oh, that you are a desperate gambler and a wonderfully
unprincipled flirt, your age and opportunities considered."
The earl opened his round eyes to their widest extent, and
flushed even more crimson than before. " Who who has
dared to say such things of me ? It's that fellow Grenier.
I'll break every bone in his skin."
"Grenier? Is that the literary gentleman who was here
last night, who has evidently a sworn enmity to barbers."
" Yes," put in Maggie, half-interested, half-amused.
" My dear fellow," pursued Trafford, "do you really think
such men as Grenier, De Bragance, or that Pole, could
possibly have access to Madame De Beaumanoir ? No, no.
Seriously, you should not put yourself out about such trifles.
Come and see la Marquise ; you'll make it all right with her
in a few minutes. Besides, what are you going to do to-
night ? "
" And I am sure," said Maggie, looking up from her work
with a sort of sisterly familiarity of which she was uncon-
scious, though it was almost startling to Trafford, " I am
sure it is much better for you to spend an evening with such
a charming person as this lady must be, than in playing cards
with that horrid M. De Bragance."
If Maggie had searched her brains for a week, she could
not have hit on a speech more aggravating to her adorer."
" There ! " said Trafford, with mock triumph ; " you see
Miss Grey, with all her experience, is of my opinion."
The earl, to hurt and angry to speak, rose up, walked to
the window, and looked upon the gay street beneath without
seeing it. What an infernal nuisance Geoff was making of
himself ! What business had he to interfere ? Yet how the
deuce was his interference to be resented or avoided ? And
then he felt maddened to hear Maggie speaking pleasantly
and composedly of the weather or some such thing. He
THE WOOING OT. 117
would go away and not see her for a week, and that would
bring her to her senses, for it was impossible she could be
quite indifferent.
" Come," said he, stiffly to his cousin, " I am going ;
I think we have intruded long enough on Miss Grey."
" Sorry I cannot go with you, but I particularly want to
see Mrs. Berry," replied Trafford. " Shall we meet at
dinner ? "
" No." said Lord Torchester, almost rudely ; " I dine with
St. Lawrence."
** Then we shall meet," rejoined his provoking cousin,
" for I have just promised little Alf to join him at Ve'fours."
" Humph ! Good-morning, Miss Grey," said the earl
gruffly, and without noticing the hand she held out, he left
the room.
As the door closed on the retreating peer, Maggie's eyes
met those of Trafford, to which an expression of amused
mischief lent a sudden youth, and an irresistible smile broke
over her face ; not only did the soft red lips curve and part,
but eyes and brow and cheek every line of the speaking
countenance smiled with thorough appreciation of Trafford's
game, who, struck by the piquancy of this recognition, leant
forward towards her, resting his elbows on the table at which
he sat.
" I am afraid, Miss Grey, you have far too much diablerie
for so young a lady," he said, with the soft, sweet smile
which changed his face so wonderfully.
"No, I have not," returned Maggie, dropping her work
and her hands into her lap, and laughing outright ; "but who
could help laughing ? Indeed, I think it is you who have the
diablerie. How could you tease him so ? I am afraid you are
very ill-natured."
Now, it was a strong indication that Trafford could not
quite make up his mind to think this insignificant little girl a
mere adventuress when, instead of saying, " I wanted to get
rid of him, that I might have you all to myself," he simply
replied :
" He is such a spoilt child, I think it my duty to bully him
occasionally."
" Yes, he is rather spoilt," said Maggie, thoughtfully, and
resuming her work ; " but he is very good, and he will be
better by-and-by."
" Like sound wine, he will mellow with time ? "
Ii8 THE WOOING O'T.
" Exactly. I suppose it is only unsound things that time
injures ? "
" I'm afraid, then, that unsound things form a large cate-
gory," rejoined Trafford. " So that lucky young cousin of
mine has found favor in your eyes ? "
" He has," said Maggie, with quiet mischief, laying her
lace pattern on the table and studying its effect.
" Has the little witch made up her mind to be a
countess ? " thought Trafford ; " or is she presuming to chaff
mel"
"It is generally the happy lot of unencumbered young
noblemen to find favor in the eyes of discriminating young
ladies," he said, in a pleasant voice, that somewhat nullified
the impertinence of his speech.
" It is not because he is an unencumbered young nobleman
/like him," replied Maggie, without the slightest heat, "but
because he is so like my Cousin John."
" Indeed ! Nevertheless, Torchester is lucky in being the
locum tenens of this favorite relative."
" Is he ? " said Maggie, quietly, and resumed her lace
work with every appearance of profound interest.
"Still," continued Trafford, after a short pause, "I don't
think that sort of thing would satisfy me. I should not like
any temporary position ; I crave a place of my own, were it
ever so au troisieme. And may I ask in what the likeness
between your cousin and mine consists ? "
" Oh, in a great many ways ! John is as tall, but plainer
and more awkward than Lord Torchester. Then he has the
same colored hair and he is very shy ; but he is honest and in
earnest, though he cannot talk well. Then both he and Lord
Torchester have been very, very kind to me ; so, as I have
never had many friends. I somehow put them together in my
heart I mean my mind," (blushing at her mistake), " though
perhaps no one else could see the likeness."
" What a dangerous little devil ! " thought Trafford, as he
noticed her quick blush and the sweet tinge of pathos in her
tone. " if she shows that young cub any of this feeling it's
all up with the poor mother." However, he only said : " So
Torchester shines with a borrowed light ! "
" Not altogether," said Maggie, slowly, as she laid her
" lacet " round a bend of her pattern. " I like Lord Tor-
ester for his own sake now."
" Candid," thought Geoffrey.
" But," pursued Maggie, " I am afraid Mrs. Berry will be a
THE WOOING OT. 119
long time away : she has gone to the Rue Richelieu to have a
dress tried on. I do not know when she may be back."
" I accept the hint, Miss Grey, and will disappear accord-
ingly."
" Indeed, I did not mean to give you any hint," cried
Maggie blushing brightly, and feeling by no means anxious to
get rid of her companion, whose easy, kindly badinage and
pleasant voice were certainly preferable to solitude.
" It sounded very like a hint," said Trafford, an amused
smile glittering in his eyes, but making no attempt to quit his
comfortable seat. " However, if you wish me to remain, I
will."
" And if you wish to remain, you may," returned Maggie,
gayley, feeling wonderfully at ease with Lord Torchester's
cousin, supported, no doubt by the delightful consciousness
that, come what might whether she pleased the fancy or
offended the taste of all the fine gentlemen in Paris //feball
was still before her.
" I decidedly wish to remain," said Trafford almost sur-
prised at the sincerity of the wish and the very deep sense of
satisfaction he experienced lounging in the cool, shady room,
redolent of violets and verbena, contemplating the simple
grace of Maggie's round, plaint figure, listening to her fresh
young voice, and lazily watching her little white hands
whiter than ordinary with the warmth of advancing spring
as they plied the needle. Gradually he lost sight of one part
of his self-imposed mission : he ceased to watch for in-
dications of Miss Grey's feelings and intentions toward the
captive earl ; but I am not sure that he relinquished his
intention to cut out that young gentleman. Still, a bench of
of bishops nay, a bench of chaperones might have
heard the conversation without a frown. Maggie asked
questions about Trafford's wanderings amusingly even
picturesquely and Maggie caught herself more than once
dropping her work in her lap and gazing with interest into
his dark face.
" At last the pendule on the mantelpiece chimed half-past
three, whereupon Miss Grey deliberately folded up her work,
and said :
" I shall give you no hint, Mr. Trafford, but just say at
once that I must leave you, though I would rather stay and
listen to your delightful stories,"
" Then why do you impose on yourself the penance of
120 THE WOOING O'T.
relinquishing my delightful society ? " he asked, with good-
humored raillery.
" Because I go to read the journal to poor old Monsieur
Du Val every afternoon when I can, and I should not like to
disappoint him.
" Who is Monsieur Du Val, and what has he done to be so
petted ? "
" He is Mrs. Berry's music-master, and lives au cinquicmc.
He has had a bad cold and inflamed eyes, and as he can
scarcely live without the newspaper, I go and read to him
whenever Mrs.Berry doesn't want me. He is such a repub-
lican, it would frighten you to hear him talk of the emperor.
" Well, I foresee that Torchester and I will have to rescue
you from the police when these ' red ' friends of youis mature
their plots ! I see an awful vista before you."
Maggie laughed merrily. " Be that as it may, I will not
disappoint poor Monsieur Du Val. He has been very kind
to me ; and even without that I like to be of use to him ;
think what it must be, to be old and ill, and poor and lonely.
It is not as if he were a selfish old bachelor. He had a wife
and a daughter, but both were carried off by cholera ; so you
can understand his being unhappy and cross ; " as she uttered
these sentences with loving pity in her tones, she placed her
work in its basket and stood up.
" Missaest" said Trafford, submissively, "and I will retire.
Really, Miss Grey, you are very puzzling. I began my visit
by thinking you had too much diablerie. Now I find myself
looking for the embryo wings which shall by and by waft you
far above such sublunary beings as Torchester and myself.
" Oh, Mr. Trafford ! you laugh at everything, yet I do not
think you are ill-natured M fond\ and I am sure Lord Tor-
chester is not."
" Lucky boy to have such a sponser." said Trafford, laugh-
ing ; and, with a courtly bow, he said, "Good-morning," and
departed.
" What a pleasant, well-bred person," thought Maggie, as
she went slowly toward the kitchen to inform Rosalie of her
whereabouts ; " but very clever rather too clever to believe
in anything still it is very pleasant to hear him talk."
And the " clever, well-bred person " strolled slowly up the
Champs Elyse'es till he reached a well-shaded seat whereupon
he placed himself, and drawing his hat over his eyes, fell into
a fit of musing.
THE WOOING OT. in
CHAPTER XII.
LORD TORCHESTER was so far true to his resolution, that he
did not repeat his visit for four whole days, and in the in-
terim only saw the adored one once in the Tuileries Gardens
and that by accident. The earl was accompanied by his
kinsman, and although he had apparently fallen into the trap
which that astute person had baited with the Marquise de
Beaumanoir, the sight of Maggie at once restored her influ-
ence.
Mrs. Berry, was therefore, beatified by the attendance of
the earl and his distinguished-looking cousin, to say nothing
of the smiles and greetings of aristocratic individuals, male
and female, bestowed on these gentlemen, the largest share of
this notice falling to Mr. Trafford's lot.
But in spite of these interruptions, he remained steadily in
their train ; and although he did not torment his cousin as
on a former occasion, he was equally amusing and agreeable.
Still Maggie felt through it all, he was watching Lord Tor-
chester, and that with a view to frustrate the excellent young
nobleman's hopes or intentions. Need we add that under
such a stimulus Maggie would have been more or less than
woman had she not smiled with uncommon sweetness upon
her admirer, and generally conducted herself so as to con-
vince him that she had noticed and deplored his absence ?
Altogether it was a pleasant afternoon. The gardens were
still fresh, the band inspiring, the company delightful and
no place had charmed Maggie like Paris.
However, all things were merged in the anticipation of, and
anxious preparation for, the great ball.
And the thrilling moment came at last.
" Upon my word, Maggie, you do look well ! " .cried Mrs.
Berry, when, having partly assisted to attire her patroness,
Maggie, after a short retirement, reappeared, radiant with an
innocent visible delight. Her cloudy dress, fresh, cool-looking
bouquets of moss and violets, and the long leaves, sparkling
as if with dew, intertwined with her soft brown hair, and
drooping on her shoulder, gave her a wood-nymph air, very
charming, and perfectly suitable to her style.
" And I must say," continued the approving widow, " that
122 THE WOOING 0"T.
I don't consider my money thrown away. I'm sure you
might be an earl's daughter to look at you. Dear, dear ! to
think of the poor little creature you were when / took you
up, without a stich in the world but a brown stuff frock.
And now going to marry an earl and all through me ! 1
suppose you hardly know which you are, on your head or your
heels. What beautiful flowers they are ! my lord's I
suppose ? "
" Yes, I suppose so," returned Maggie, now quite accus-
tomed to this allotment. " There was such a quantity, you
see I have divided them. Madam Bdnoi cut my dress so
dreadfully low I was glad to fill it up with some."
" At any rate, she has turned you out first-rate. If my
lord doesn't make you an offer to-night he never will."
Maggie laughed. " Do not count on it," she said.
" Now, then," cried Mrs. Berry, " what do you think of
me?"
" Your dress is splendid," replied Maggie ; adding, in all
sincerity. " I never saw you look so well."
".That's right," returned the widow, with intense satisfaction.
" I do want to look well. To tell you the truth, Maggie for
I keep nothing from you I can't understand the count. He
has been keeping away the last week, and has been quite
queer. Now I am sure he'll be at the Hotel de Ville to-night,
and I want to show him that I am not to be sneezed at, in
short."
Maggie shook her head, and was about to be guilty of
some words of wisdom, when the carriage was announced.
Then came an interlude of darkness and driving before the
long rank was reached, and that strange, and to novices
thrilling, mode of progress enforced a few steps forward, a
halt, a vibration of the springs, and so on da capo.
At last they alighted. Maggie, dazzled, and more than
half-frightened by the noise, the crowd, the brilliancy, the
military aspect which all French fetes present, clung to Mrs.
Berry's arm while they waited in an appointed corner the
arrival of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Maclaggan, who, with Lady
and Miss Salter, were to form their party.
" Surely, thought the debutante, " no one can possibly be
found in such a crowd," and her anticipations of delight and
dancing suddenly collapsed. Nevertheless, the expected
quintette made their appearance. The Maclaggan, magnifi-
cent in highland costume, point ruffles, and eagle's feather,
and all the barbarous finery of that rather savage splendo",
THE WOOING O'T. 123
their number further strengthened by one of the presentable
half-pays. A procession was immediately formed, Maggie
bringing up the rear on Mrs. Maclaggan's arm, bewildered by
the beauty and magnificence of the scene. The superb hall
glittering with lights and uniforms scarcely second in their
gorgeous solidity to the brilliant costumes of the women ; and
then the fairy-like staircase, with its crimson carpet ascending
between two marvelously natural cascades flowing and mur-
muring down a gentle incline, wet stones, moss, ferns all
that could convey delicious coolness on this warm April
evening : the subtle, pervading perfume of hothouse flowers,
the distant strains of music the whole was full of an over-
powering magic to Maggie ; and the poor child, so inexperi-
enced in grandeur, save such still magnificence as is to be
found in picture and sculpture galleries, felt quite lifted out
of herself, far above the little natural vanity with which,
scarce an hour before, she had looked at the reflection of her
pretty dress. Here in this enchanted palace all she wanted
was sight, fully to take in the loveliness about her, and a
grasping memory to retain it.
She was somewhat restored to herself by seeing Lord
Torchester at the entrance of the grand vestibule. He was
in deep conversation with a pale, lordly-looking old man, on
whose breast flashed a diamond star.
" Our ambassador, my dear ! " whispered Mrs. Berry, in
almost av,-ed .accents. And even Maggie, in whose nature
flunkeyism had as small a part as could well be, felt suddenly
the immense distance between herself and the shy young
man who appeared to talk with far more ease and self-poses-
sion to that grand historical personage than to her simple
self. Yet this sight awoke no ambitions in her unworldy or
shall we say, wise, little heart ? She smiled to herself at the
idea of having gone forth from Uncle Grey's dingy back
parlor to encounter, ay ! flirt with, that very inaccessible high
mightiness, an English earl, and reflected with unmoved
serenity on the great gulf fixed between them, and the
absurdity of supposing it could ever be spanned. Meantime
her party stood grouped together a little within the door,
waiting chacuns pour son chacun.
Mrs. Berry glanced about her with unrestrained eagerness
for her count, or at least his sister, or somebody connected
with that facinating individual, but none appeared, neither did
any claimant for the hands of the ladies seem forthcoming,
So for some little time they were obliged to content thenv
124 THE WOOING OT.
selves by pointing out to each other the various notorieties
whom they recognized.
" Look, Mrs. Berry ! We must move back a little. Here is
the Dowager Queen of Spain."
" Is it, really ? Well, she is no great things to look at.
But there ! there's the Dutchess of St. . Oh ! what a
necklace ! and look at her earrings ! "
"That lady in blue she is talking to is the Princess
Mathilde. Well, she's no beauty."
" Handsome is that handsome does," growled the Maclag-
gan.
" How do, Mrs. Berry how do, Miss Grey ! " said the
welcome voice of Lord Torchester.
" Oh ! my lord, what an awful crowd ! It is quite pleasant
to see a face one knows," cried Mrs. Berry, with effusion ;
and none of our set seem to have come yet. Is Mr. Trafford
here ? "
" I am sure I don't know. I haven't seen him all day, I
don't think he'll come," said Lord Torchester, his brows
dropping wrathfully at the mention of his cousin's name.
" Dear, dear ! I wonder he would like to miss such a sight
as this."
" Oh ! he has seen so much he dosen't care for anything.
Come, Miss Grey, have you been in the ball-room yet ?
There's a quadrille next," looking at his card. " Will you
do me the honor ? "
" Yes, with pleasure," said Maggie, dying to rove about
with some one who would go where she liked. The earl,
brightening at her delightful readiness, presented his arm.
" Oh ! stay, Lord Torchester ? Mrs. Berry, where shall I
find you ? For if we don't settle some rendezvous we shall
never meet again in this crowd."
" Well, I suppose if we don't, Lord Torchester won't eat
you, or let you lose yourself," returned Mrs. Berry, with a
dreadfully significant giggle. " However, let us fix the
entrance here, just at the top of the grand stair-case, and
then we can all be free."
" All right," said the earl, and he walked away in triumph
with his prize.
" I suppose, Mrs. Berry, that is quite a settled thing," said
Miss Salter, nodding in the direction of the pair as they dis-
appeared through the doorway.
" Indeed, my dear, I don't pretend to know. I can only
say that it's my young friend's own fault if she isn't a count-
THE WOOING O'T. 125
ess before two months are over. There is no mistaking hi*
intentions."
" Oh ! you can never tell what these young fellows are
after," observed the kilted Maclaggan. " Jones and the
count do say he has got shaky about the affair himself, and
sent for that high mightiness of a cousin of his to extricate
him."
" How can they tell such horrible stories ? " cried Mrs.
Berry, with heightened color. " I'll speak to the count about
it myself. Why, any one can see with half an eye that my
lord hates his cousin like poison, and wishes him at Jericho ;
though, to my mind, he is a nice, easy, pleasant, gentleman-
like fellow. It's my belief that the earl's mad jealous of
him."
" Perhaps so perhaps," returned the Maclaggan, with
provoking scepticism.
" No doubt the countess had very different views for her
son," said Lady Salter, naturally sympathizing with rank ;
" and it would be a sad blow to her if he was to marry your
charming young friend."
" Oh ! I don't care for blows," said Mrs. Berry, impatient-
ly, looking anxiously around. " Let them settle their own
affairs and fight their own battles come, let us move on, or
we'll never see no one," continued the widow, crowding her
negatives, as was her custom when excited or agitated.
At this juncture, however, De Courcy Jones and a very
much bewhiskered gentleman, buttoned up with surprising
tightness in a very short-skirted Polish lancer costume, pre-
sented themselves, and carried off the willing widow and the
fair-haired Jessie Maclaggan to the ball-room.
Meantime Maggie and her earl, like two happy children
escaping the schoolmaster's eye, found that the next dance
was a waltz, the difficulties of which were quite beyond Lord
Torchester's powers.
" So sorry, Miss Grey thought it would be a quadrille.
I never could waltz ; and here is such a mob, I'd be sure to
come to grief."
" Oh ! never mind ; it is quite a treat to look on. What a
lovely room ! How the chandeliers glitter ! as if they were
hung with diamonds. And the roof & look at the roof,
Lord Torchester ! "
" Very fine. I never saw anything better done than this.
We could do nothing in London like it." And then the two
126 THE WOOING O'T.
children looked on amused for awhile in silence ; Maggie
tapped her little foot in time to the music.
" I am so sorry I can't waltz," said the earl, noticing this.
" Never mind, I don't care a bit. I am sure I scarcely
thought I had a chance of dancing when I came in."
" Why, surely you knew / was to be here."
" Yes ; but then you must know a great many people
your own sort of people, I mean and I couldn't reckon on
you, you know," said Maggie, with malice prepense.
" Why Maggie I mean Miss Grey I would rather dance
with you than with any one in fact, it's a bore to dance with
any one else."
" Oh ! Lord Torchester, don't talk like that ; it's silly.
Look ! there's Mrs. Berry ; and what a short coat the gentle-
man she is dancing with has on ! "
" Why, it's ' Cocky,' " said Lord Torchester, after looking
a moment earnestly at the pair " ' Cocky' in uniform ! "
" Who is he ? " said Maggie, laughing.
" You know him that Polish fellow who plays the piano.
What's his name ? Jones and the others call him ' Cocky.'
He always howls about his country when he is half screw-
ed."
" Oh ! M. Kockanowska. I should never have know him.
How well hewalses ! "
" Why, Miss Grey, you wouldn't dance with that beggar ? "
said the earl, jealously.
' Why not ? He must be a capital partner."
" Well, I wish you'd promise me you will not. I couldn't
bear to see you dancing with the fellow."
" Oh ! you need not distress yourself ; he will not ask
me."
" But if he does ? "
" I'll say ' Yes,' " replied Maggie, mischievously. " But
come away into that beautiful room ; we can just see through
the door opposite ; I want to look at it, and we can hear
when the music plays for the quadrille there."
" You are very provoking, Miss Grey, and I am not going
to stand it any longer," said the young peer, half lovingly,
half angrily. " You can just do what you like with Mrs.
Berry, so do get her out of the way to-morrow, and see me
quite by myself for half an hour."
" Indeed, indeed, I can not do what I like with Mrs.
Berry," cried Maggie, eagerly. " I wish I could for her
own sake," she added, seeing her companion's broad counte-
THE WOOING O'T. 127
nance brighten all over, and thinking of the objectionable
count.
" Well, then, I'll ask her myself," said the earl stoutly,
and turning very red. " I am not going to stand it any
longer."
As his lordship particularized no special grievance Maggie
was prudently silent, and they made their way into the saloon
which she desired to inspect.
It was not quite so crowded as the others, and seated on a
low fauteuil was a lady a dark-haired lady with piercing
black eyes, and a curved haughty mouth dressed to perfec-
tion, absolutely dressed into beauty, and glittering with jew-
els. A little court of gentlemen were around her, whose
homage she received with that gracious but " silly" tranquil
grace so distinctive of a high-bred Frenchwoman, and, re-
ceiving rather more than his share of quiet notice. Mr. Traf-
ford stood among the group he indeed had the honor of
fanning her " Sereneness " with her superb fan. He seemed
too absorbed in his occupation to notice the entrance of Mag
gie and his cousin.
" There isn't much to see here, but there's a nice cool cor-
ridor at the end, and we can get round that way into the ball-
room again."
" Very well." Maggie didn't want to stay there.
" Was that lady the Marquise De Beaumanoir ? " . i
" What lady ? "
" The lady Mr. Trafford was talking to."
" Geoff ? was he there ? I didn't see him I fancied he
would not come. No! I don't suppose the Madame de Beau-
manoir would condescend to come to such a gathering of
Bonapartist canaille as she would consider this but I didn't
notica her. By the way, how do you like Geoff Trafford ? "
" Very much very much indeed. He is so amusing."
" Yes ! he can be pleasant enough, but I have found him
a horrid nuisance here. He is a very worldly fellow, and
now that he has sown his wild oats (and I suppose he has
been awfully fast) he can make no allowance for other peo-
ple."
" I suppose he thinks they can't be sown quick enough,
and I'm sure he's right wild oats seem very foolish things."
" There, Miss Grey that's our quadrille."
Lord Torchester was rather silent and absorbed after this.
He was, in short, revolving in his own mind how best to
carry out the resolution to which he had come, that to-mor-
128 THE WOOING O'T.
row should end his discomfort and uncertainties, and give
him some definite rights over Maggie. For, inexperienced in
women and their ways, he concluded that her happy ease of
manner and readiness to be with him were proofs of decided
preference, and that his only difficulty would be to surmount
a certain pride on her part which might induce her to refuse
one so much above her in social rank. This, he did not
doubt, he should get over, as he felt that, once the ice was
broken, he had quite a torrent of eloquence in reserve where-
with to talk down all scruples. But the present effect of
these reflections was to impart a stubborn uneasy expression
to his countenance, and to induce speculations in Maggie's
mind as to what could make Lord Torchester look so
cross.
" I had better go to Mrs. Berry now," she said as the quad-
rille ended ; " I have been a long time away."
" She doesn't want you a bit, and you know that. She is
prancing about somewhere with ' Cocky.' "
" No matter : she may want me, and I ought to go and look
for her."
"Well, come along, then. I think you are very ill-na-
tured."
They had scarcely reached the door of the ball-room when
Trafford joined them. Forgive me, Miss Grey. Pardon
Torchester, if I am obliged to part you for a few minutes.
The duchess has been inquiring about you, and I promised to
send you to her ; she is at the other end of the room with
only three daughters."
" Well, I can't go. I have to take Miss Grey back to Mrs.
Berry."
" But, my dear boy, she was dining with your mother the
day before yesterday, and promised to see you, and write
about you, and deliver all sorts of messages. St. Lawrence
is with her now, and I think you had better go and do the
civil. Miss Grey need not be irreparably lost, and if she
will allow me to escort her to her chaperon, the exigencies of
the case can be met."
" What brings that old harridan to Paris ? " growled Tor-
chester, not liking to leave St. Lawrence the unchecked
power of misrepresenting his proceedings to one of the great-
est gossips in London.
" That I cannot tell but here she is."
" Well, where shall I find you ? " to Maggie.
THE WOOING ar. 129
" At the general rendezvous the top of the grand stair-
case."
The earl, with a sigh, muttered something that was not a
blessing, relinquished Miss Grey's hand, which was imme-
diately transferred to Trafford's arm.
" Come, Miss Grey are we really to look for Mrs.
Berry ? " said Trafford, looking down at his companion, and
deliberately taking in every detail of dress, and hair, face and
figure.
" Yes," said 'Maggie, smiling and coloring a little under
this examination.
" So be it. This is a wonderful bit of ' Arabian Nights '
magnificence, is it not ? such marvelous taste ! "
" Oh ! I never could have imagined anything so lovely. I
have felt quite bewildered with the splendor and the crowd
it is something to remember all one's life. I am glad you
are delighted too ; Lord Torchester said you would not care
for it that you had exhausted everything, and had no admi-
ration left."
" Yes I have ! " returned Trafford very shortly. u So
that young scamp has been representing me as a blas'e old
fellow ! I think shooting too good for him, don't you, Miss
Grey ? "
" Indeed I do not ! You forget I like him very much ; but
why is he so cross with you ? "
" Oh ! ne fancies I interfere with him, and object to the
card : playing set he has fallen in with. By the way, I was
much obliged to you for the hint you gave me the first even-
ing we met it opened my eyes a little sooner than they
would otherwise have been to De Bragance and the rest."
" I don't think I said much, or anything," said Maggie,
trying back her memory for what had passed.
" I suppose you are aware eyes speak sometimes ? " look-
ing down into hers with, perhaps, more in his own that he
was aware of.
" No doubt a way these fine gentlemen give themselves,"
thought Maggie, as she naturally turned her own way in
search of the frolicsome widow.
" Well, I can find no trace of Mrs. Berry," said Trafford,
looking round, " and it is folly to stay here waiting. Have
you seen all the wonders of the scene, Miss Grey ? "
" I am not sure ; I have seen quantities of rooms, and "
" Ah ! you have not seen the Court Louis Quatorze ?
That's the g~m of the whole place. Come, I must have the
9
130 THE WOOING O'T.
pleasure of skewing it to you ; " and Maggie found herself
carried off after a fashion she would never have permitted to
Lord Torchester, but which with his worldly cousin she did
not dream of resisting.
Turning from the brilliant vestibule, Trafford led the way
to a dimly lighted corridor, which gave something the impres-
sion of a cloister from its sudden quiet^ and arched roof ;
from this they turned into one loftier and wider, but still dim,
cool, and quiet, though pervaded by the hum of the multitude.
Along one side ran a range of lofty sashless windows, each
furnished with a crimson-cushioned seat. " Now look through
here, Miss Grey there is a fairy scene for you ! "
" Oh ! " said Maggie, clasping her hands and gazing as di-
rected a long-drawn " Oh ! " of fullest delight. And the
sight that met her eyes justified it. A large square court, en-
closed by the richly decorated pure white facades of the hotel ;
the tessalated pavement crossed by crimson pathways of
carpet, the centre filled with a circular mound of rarest, richest
flowers of every scent and every hue, and, surmounting all, a
fountain flung its feathery jets and musical murmur over leaf
and blossoms, drawing out the depths and perfumes and fresh-
ening every tint. At each side were miniature lakes, border-
ed by rocks, shells, and creeping plants, behind which huge
mirrors doubled their size. Through an archway opposite
could be seen, in the full light beyond, a picturesque group of
cuirassiers de la garde, and gorgeous parties of ladies and
their cavaliers passed to and fro, or stood to watch the foun-
tains or the flowers.
" It is altogether ' the triumph of decorative art,' as * our
own correspondent ' would call it," said Trafford, after he had
allowed Maggie uninterrupted enjoyment for a few minutes.
" Let us sit down here, it is so deliciously cool and comfort-
able," he continued, " and then, when the first lot of people
go in to sup or refresh, and the room is less crowded, you will
give me a waltz, will you not, Miss Grey f You waltz, of
course ? "
" Yes, I shall be very happy, and if the room is not quite
so crowded, it will be delightful ; for see, with all my care I
have had my poor dress torn ;" and she held up the drapery
with a long rent in it, which left a perilous loop to catch the
unwary and finish the destruction of the garment. " I suppose
needles and thread are not to be had, and I dare not venture
into the ball-room with it stay, this will do," and she drew
THE WOOING O'T. Ijl
the torn edge threw her waistband, the cloudy gauze forming
a pretty festoon.
" What a misfortune ! " said Trafford, looking attentively
at her costume ; " for really you are mise d ravir, as our hosts
would say. I can fancy you singing ' Through the wood !
through the wood ! follow and find me.' There is something
positively Arcadian and nymph-like about you."
** Yes, isn't it pretty ? " returned Maggie, laughing and
blushing just a very little under his steady gaze. " Mrs.
Berry was very kind to give it to me, and it is so much grander
than anything I ever had before, I could not help thinking as
I dressed that I must feel much as Cinderella would have felt
when her fair}' godmother sent her to the ball."
" I wish I didn't feel quite so much like the prince in the
same story," thought Trafford, with a smile at his own folly.
' What a sweet Cinderella it is ! That young cub has good
taste ! He must be choked off though, at any cost. Yet, if
she cares for him it will go hard with me to vex her ! "
He kept his thoughts to himself, however, and only said,
" Was the feeling agreeeable ? "
" Yes ! No ! You see I knew I had to come back to the
cinders of my daily life, and that without a fairy godmother."
" How do you know the prince may not come for you too,
and carry you off to his father's palace in a chariot drawn by
peacocks ? " Maggie laughed merrily, although she fancied
she noticed a little significance in the tone of this speech, and
replied, " No ! no ! there is no prince for me ! I fancy the
cinders will be my portion always ; but they are not very
dreadful if they are never worse than at present."
And then Maggie turned, leant her arm on the window-sill
and her cheek upon her hand, looking into the beautiful court
below while Trafford meditated on the advisability of seizing
the present opportunity of ascertaining the young lady's views
respecting his cousin, and striking some decisive blows.
" For," thought the worldly sceptic, " though she looks so ' be-
witchingly simple,' who can tell what schemes of mischief
may lurk under that pretty exterior ? I musn't be idiot
enough at this time of day to believe all's gold that glitters,
though there's a very genuine glitter about this metal."
" I suppose poor Torchester is now giving good words with
his lips but cursing me in his heart, as he feels the fangs of
the duche*s closing on him. I fancy he is lost to us for the
evening ""
132 THE WOOING O'T.
" Why did you send him away and make him uncomforta
ble ? " asked Maggie, still looking down into the court.
" For his own good ; to say nothing of the duchess being a
sworn ally of his mother's, attending the same church, etc.,
though the fact of her grace having daughters has modified
her religious views respecting balls ; you must know Lady
Torchester is very religious ; in fact, dfoote. Nevertheless, I
do not think a voice from heaven would induce her to give up
her son, her only son ! She is so wrapt in him." He paused,
but Maggie kept silence, for her heart beat a little chokingly.
She quite understood the lesson Mr. Trafford was trying to
read her, and though perfectly conscious of the great social
gulf fixed between such aristocrats as the Traffords and her-
self, and not in the least wishing to span it over, she never-
theless, in her woman's heart, felt hurt that a man a pleas-
ant, sympathetic, chivalrous-looking man, like Geoff Trafford,
should think it necessary to warn her off, and she told herself,
with sudden and unusual pride, that she was worth being
loved, be she ever so poor and insignificant, while the wealth
of affection and truth she had to bestow lay all fresh and un-
expended. Having waited a moment for a reply, Trafford
resumed, " I had a letter from Lady Torchester this morning,
and she is very anxious ta hear about her boy from this great
friend, who, by the way, is aunt to the young lady she intends
Tor to many."
" Indeed ! " said Maggie, and relapsed into silence.
" I suppose," continued the operator, " it is not very pleas-
ant to be married to order ; but I hope Torchester will not
disappoint his mother, she has so set her heart on this match,
and it is really very suitable, and all that sort of thing."
" I hope not," said Maggie gravely : then, raising her head,
she turned to Trafford with a smile stealing round her mouth,
though the eyes looked demure, added," and in the meantime
you are dreadfully afraid he will marry me ; are you not, Mr.
Trafford ? "
At this daring and sudden carrying of the war into the ene-
my's quarters, Trafford was silent for an instant, aye, and puz-
zled too; then, recovering himself, "a perfect natural wish
on his part," he said with polite gravity : " The question is,
how such a marriage would affect your happiness ? "
"Listen to me," returned Maggie Grey, coloring vividly
and looking fearlessly straight into Trafford's eyes : set your
mind at rest ; I do not want to marry your cousin. I suppose
it is stupid to talk of such things, but I would rather be among
THE WOOING O"T. 133
the cinders of life all my days than lose the chance of love,
real love I mean. And you don't suppose a woman could
love that shy, awkward, kindly, self-willed boy ? Why, a hus-
band ought to be something stronger and better than one's
self, something you could be just a little bit afraid of some-
times."
" Then I am afraid, Miss Grey, you have a small chance of
finding the desired article," said Trafford, trying to reassume
his former tone ot ^asy pleasantry, while he half closed his
eyes to conceal the )ook of admiration he knew he could not
keep out of them at this sudden fire in his companion.
" For there is an amount of daring in you quite beyond most
men, which, no doubt, accounts for your friendship with that
red republican pet you keep up au anquieme"
" You may laugh, Mr. Trafford, but I am serious. I do not
want to marry Lord Torchester."
" Perhaps," said Trafford, in a more natural tone. " Bui
you know he wants to marry you ? "
" No 1 I do not. He likes me very much, and that is quite
natural," continued Maggie, apologetically ; " for we are both
young, and enjoy the same things, and I never made the fuss
about him the rest did, so he felt at home with me, and "
" Loved you ! Perfectly natural indeed," interrupted Traf-
ford, now quite in earnest, and deeply interested.
" Well, that is saying too much. He will very soon forget
all about me, and if he does think of marrying me," contin-
ued Maggie, smiling and blushing, as she played somewhat ner-
vously with her flowers, " he will be very pleased by-and-by,
when he is older, and understands things better, to think he
did not," and she looked up to Trafford for acquiescence.
But he took in her glance without speaking, so she went on.
" You may make your mind quite easy. I don't want to
marry Lord Torchester; though," lighting up again at the
idea of being thought unfit for anyone, " if I really cared for
him, I would not give him up for you or any one,, except his
mother ; it is an awful thing to vex a good kind mother."
" You are an extraordinary girl," said Trafford, half to
himself. " How wonderfully wise common-sense sounds when
you have not heard any for some time. Nevertheless, Miss
Grey," he continued, with a contradictoriness it would have
puzzled him to account for, " you ought to consider that
Torchester would be thought a great catch by some most
young ladies. He is not a bad fellow, and has a goodly un-
encumbered rent-roll. Mount Trafford is a charming country
WOOING OT.
; the family mansion in St James' Square only requires a
little paint to be a most desirable town residence : the family
diamonds would look almost as well as the violets and dewy
leaves," with a caressing smile, " and a countess with common-
sense and uncommon nature might possibly take the London
world by storm, and make herself a great power there."
" You are very puzzling, and I am afraid sarcastic."
*' No 1'upon my soul ! You ought to think of what you are
rejecting, Miss Grey. It is what is generally considered (and
justly) a first-rate chance."
"Mr. Trafford," said Maggie, opening her eyes," do you
want me to marry your cousin ? "
" Most certainly not," he replied, with an uncompromising
sincerity that, in spite of her reason and common-sense,
wounded his companion. She colored deeply, and felt the
provoking tell-tale tears spring to her eyes ; but she held them
back resolutely, and looked steadily at her bouquet. Trafford,
however, read the transparent countenance as he would a page
of clearest type, and felt furious with himself for his un-
guarded speech, all the sources of which he must not explain.
" What an idiot ! " he thought ; " how shall I do awav with
the impression I have made ! " " Certainly not," he contin-
ued, gently, " for though it is only fair to set forth the worldly
advantages of such a marriage, I am sure they would never
satisfy you, unless" here he hesitated and lost the thread of
his measured discourse, looking at the downcast face before
him, and seeing the quick rise and fall of the fluttered bosom
then after a moment's abrupt pause, he exclaimed naturally,
4 And by Jove, the cub is not worthy of you 1 "
** At all events," said Maggie, still looking down ; " it is a
polite way of putting it ; but do not abuse Lord Torchester
too much, or I shall grow suddenly fond of him, and then "
she paused in her turn, and looked up with a spice of shy co-
quetry extremely piquante.
" Ah ! Miss Grey, in spite of your tall talking, I see you
have a weakness for raw boys. That stony heart of yours
has nevertheless soft corners for Torchester and the cousin
Jhe resembles."
" Yes, it has," said Maggie, laughing and recovering herself ;
'*' only my cousin John is five or six years older than I am,
and has been fighting his own way in the world longer than
that ; so he will be no raw boy when I see him again."
He is a lucky fellow to have such a champion ready to wet
THE WOOING O'T. 135
come him back," returned Trafford, gravely. " When do you
expect him ? "
" Oh ! I don't know. I don't expect him at all ; but come,
we must look again for Mrs. Berry ; and once more, Mr.
Trafford, set your mind at rest. 1 may marry my own cousin
who is in my own rank of life, but I will not marry yours. I
am quite as disinclined for an unequal match as the countess
of Torchester or yourself."
And with a flash of defiance in her gray eyes Maggie rose
up.
" Look for Mrs. Berry," repeated Trafford, offering his arm,
and wisely letting the last part of his speech pass unnoticed ;
" by no means. Where is that waltz you promised me ? Be
generous, and show your forgiveness of my stupidity and
blunders by keeping your promise."
Trafford looked earnestly into her eyes, and spoke in such
an eager, real tone, that Maggie was surprised and flattered,
and said, rather shakily, " I have nothing to forgive, and I '
like waltzing/'
So they waltzed and a very delightful waltz it was. The
floor was so even and the music delicious ; and as Trafford's
experience had foreseen, so many had gone to refresh, that
the crowd was considerably diminished, and their style suited
each other and well, there was something very delightful
about that waltz so much so, that when the music ceased
Trafford mentally consignd the musicians to a warmer place
than the ball room ; but he only said : " Those fellows have
cut it short ! " and Maggie said : " I think they have." Then
Trafford suggested an ice, and when they went to look for
one they fell in with Lord Torchester, looking awfully black,
and in the elutches of a large distinguished-looking girl with
red hair and freckles, and a certain disdainful good-humor in
her broad face, who stared hard at Maggie, but gave Trafford
a smile and nod.
" Mrs. Berry is waiting for you," said Lord Torchester, as.
he passed. " I think she wants to leave ; " and he went on..
" Oh ! Mr. Trafford, never mind about ice or anything ; do ,
take me to Mrs. Berry," said Maggie, anxiously ; she felt
curiously nervous and shaken, and not equal to bear a.
scolding.
Trafford looked at her. " You are not afraid of this
woman ? " he asked.
" Oh, no, no ! she is very good to me ; still I do not want
to put her out."
136 THE WOOING VT.
"Come then," said Trafford, good-humoredly. "We will
soon find her." And they did in anything but a happy mood,
with no one in attendance but " the Maclaggan," kilts and all,
looking rather blear}- about the eyes.
" Well, I'm sure, Maggie ! I thought I was never to see
you again ! What in the world "
" I have to apologize, Mrs. Berry," put in Trafford, blandly,
" You see long rustications has extinguished the old habit of
slipping through a crowd which I used to possess like other
habitubs of dazzling scenes ; so we have been impounded in
the refreshment room, and have only just escaped."
" And gracious goodness, Maggie ! how you have torn your
dress ! "
" Will you do me the honor of dancing this quadrille ? "
asked Trafford of the widow, with his best bow and smile.
"The duchess wants particularly to speak to you," said
Lord Torchester, coming up at that moment, and grinning a
malicious grin.
" I await your decision," said Trafford to Mrs. Berry, not
noticing his kinsman.
" I am sure I am very happy," replied Mrs. Berry, bright-
ening a little.
" Then tell the duchess she must have patience, my dear
fellow," said Trafford, offering his arm to the flattered widow,
who, regardless of her duties as chaperone, went off triumphant ;
so Maggie managed to get her ice at last, and ate it very
contentedly in Lord Torchester's company ; she even found a
waltz with De Courcy Jones not disagreeable, though by no
means equal to Mr. Trafford as a partner, she enjoyed quite
a near view of both Emperor and Empress : but Geoffrey
Trafford she saw no more that evening. At last Mrs. Berry
[insisted on going away there was a long waiting for the
r carriage ; but the united efforts of Lord Torchester, Kocka-
rnowska, and " the Maclaggan," were finally successful, and at
.last they were at home.
" Well, it was a grand affair, but scarcely worth all the
money and trouble it cost me. Undo this lace, Maggie, will
you ? I am dead tired 1 "
" Oh. Mrs. Berry ! I am sorry you did not enjoy it. 1
never saw anything so splendid and beautiful."
THE WOOING O'T
CHAPTER XIII .
TRAFFORD was rather late at breakfast the morning after
the ball. He was partaking of that meal slowly and reflec-
tively, when to him entered Lord Torchester airily dressed
in a light gray summer suit, a blue tie, and a rose in his
button-hole.
" What ! only at breakfast ? Why, it is twelve o'clock ! "
" One is not compelled to feed the moment one is up."
" By which you mean me to believe that you were up with
the lark, though you are only refreshing now ? "
" Exactly ! Of which you can believe as much as you
like."
" Well, I have been about for a considerable time, and
I could eat something more now. That p&te de Strasbourg
looks well." So Lord Torchester sat down. He seemed in
extraordinary good spirits^ yet restless, even nervous, withal.
" I say, Geoff ! It's awfull^hot, and that ball last night, with
the crowd, and the standing about, was enough to knock any
fellow up, except a bag of bones and muscle like you. I must
have a glass of brandy and soda to set me right."
" Bless the boy ! " said Trafford, ringing. " What would
Exeter Hall say to such refreshment instead of prayers and
expounding ? I always thought brandy and soda necessary
after a supper rather than a ball, though at your age, proba-
bly, the most dangerous intoxication is to be found at the
latter."
" Brandy-and-soda-water," said Lord Torchester to the
waiter, " and put a lump of ice in it. I don't know about
danger," he continued, " if pleasant things don't hurt where's
the danger ? "
"If! The pith of the matter lies in that 'if,''" returned
the mentor.
" I do not know what you are driving at, Geoff," said Lord
Torchester, taking the goblet of cooling beverage and enjoy-
ing a deep draught. "At least, I have a sort of idea/'
nodding to the waiter to go. " But," in a resolute, almost
bullying voice, " you just need not trouble yourself about the-
matter. I have made up my mind."
THE WOOING O'T.
To\what ? ' " asked Trafford, quietly " Try a little more
" No, thanks. Look here, I am determined to tell you all
about it for you have always been a good fellow till now,
and I must say I've been awfully disgusted with you since you
came here. You have interfered, and been such a nuisance."
" Thank you. Well, make a clean breast of it, if you are
so inclined, and I'll try to get back into my good-fellow
condition."
w Do ; for I feel as if I must speak to some one, or I'll
burst," said the earl, throwing open his coat.
" Make haste and speak then, for God's sake ! "
" Geoff, I'm going to propose to her to-day," and the
speaker blushed to the roots of his hair.
" I thought so' her ' meaning Mrs. Berry's pretty young
friend ? "
*' Yes, of course ! Didn't she look awfully pretty last
Vtght ? "
" She did. I do not object to your tastes, but "
" There is no use in ' buts.' As Mrs. Berry said, ' What's
the use of being noble and wealthy, young, and my own mas-
ter, if I can't marry whom I like ? ' '
Mrs. Berry said so, did she ? I suppose she never heard
lhat noblesse oblige ? "
" It shall not oblige me," said the earl, stoutly.
" And you are quite sure of being accepted, I presume ? "
'" Well, I don't mind telling you that I rather think I am.
I fancy from some remarks of however that don't matter ;
but she is always better pleased to be with me than any one
else evidently better pleased ; and I have no doubt, Master
Geoff, though you thought yourself very clever last night get-
ting rid of me as you did that Maggie was wishing you in
Jericho all the time."
M Oh, you think so ? "
*' I am sure of it. And I must say I don't think it was at all
.fair the way you tried to come in between us : for though you
are getting rather an old fellow, still I don't consider you
-quite a safe man."
" You are complimentary ! Now, Torchester, I don't want
lo be more of a nuisance than I can help. As you say, you
are your own master : and after all my talk you can do as
yon like. But don't you think you are throwing away liberty
very soon ? Don't you think it will be a little unpleasant to
begin life in London with the character of a dupe ? Hear
THE WOOING O'T. 139
me," said Trafford, as Lord Torchester sprang up indig-
nantly : " I do not say you are a dupe, but the world will.
Don't you think it will be rather trying to receive Mrs. Berry
as your wife's bosom friend, and to hear her reminiscences
of ' the time when the dear countess was my companion ? "
" She's a fearful female, certainly," said the earl ;
but "
" Another word, and I am done. Don't you think it wilj
be a little trying to hear the future Viscount Trafford, and the
Ladies Margaret and Adeline and Augusta, etc., calling the
excellent chemist in Beverly street ' uncle ? ' And finally,
Torchester, do you think it quite worth while to break your-
mother's heart, such a mother as yours, for the sake of a girl
nice and good as she may be whom you have scarcely
known four months ? "
" But it won't break her heart. Why should it ? " said the
young earl, uneasily. I am sure Miss Grey would make her
a kinder, better daughter than Lady Mary Wandesford, or
Miss Beauchamp or Margaret Wallscourt. Why, my mother
would dote on her, once we were safely married and the thing
could not be undone. And as to the old uncle I think it
very snobbtsh of you, Geoff, first to find out all about her
people, ana then talk of them in this way. I but Jove ! it
only wants twenty minutes to one ! Here, garfon ! garfon }
a fiacre, quick ! I said I'd be there at one : so good-bye, old
fellow I'll tell you the news to-night," and burning all over
with anticipations, slightly dashed with nervousness, Lord
Torchester hurried away to meet his fate.
Geoffrey Trafford leaned back in his chair and thought,,
while his Galignani hung neglected from his hand.
After all, there was some truth in what Torchester had
said : once the marriage was an accomplished fact, the
countess would probably reconcile herself to it ; and as to
himself, he wished to heavens he had not taken that unneces-
sary quixotic journey to Paris. What good had it done ? If
this headstrong cub was saved it would be through the un-
worldliness of his inamorata, not through his (Geoffrey's) ex-
ertions or influence ; he might as well have talked to a stone ;
unless, indeed, his conversations with Miss Grey strength-
ened her resolution to reject her lordly lover. But, query,
after all, would she refuse him ? Girls were easily influenced
by the people with whom they lived, and of course Mrs. Berry
was eager for the marriage. Then what a future it opened
up to the homeless little waif ! Yes, it would be strange af-
140 THE WOOING OT.
ter all if she did refuse. Perhaps she was even now giving
a. blushing consent which would, of course, be sealed by a
kiss, and an uncommonly sweet kiss those lips of hers would
give ! Young, shy muff though he was, Torchester would
never, surely, be satisfied with less than a dozen !
And altogether, the ideas suggested by Trafford's reverie
were so humiliating and unpleasant that he rang sharply, and
in his turn ordered " Claret and soda-water iced, remem-
ber ! " in a sterner voice than the waiter had heard from him
since he was in the house. Then, after some further moody
reverie, Trafford sallied forth.
It was a bright glorious day. The Tuileries Gardens were
crowded with fantastically dressed children and their bonnes,
and thickly studdied with artistically dressed and posed ladies
seated on their chases a deax sous, their feet on another
journal, novel, or crochet, in hand ; some of them pictur-
esquely accompanied by a petit amour or two ; mother, chil-
dren and nurse, all dressed to perfection for their separate
rbles. I suppose there are shabby people to be found in the
Tuileries Gardens, but I have never seen them, and am in-
clined to think that when they do go there, that intense sense
of the fitness of things which characterizes the Parisian, in-
duces them to slink up the out of sight paths.
Trafford strolled slowly along, intending to hunt up an old
Oook-shop in the Quartier Latin, where he hoped to find a
copy of a certain rare " History of the Dues de Burgoyne ; "
for mixed with his love for sport and pleasure was a strong
under-current of intellectual taste, which, as the first fire and
animalism of youth burnt out, flowed with a fuller tide and
more urgent need of supply. How is it that the animalism
of youth is free from the repulsiveness which clings to the
materialism of middle age ? I suppose we accept the first as
the necessary initiative stage which will lead to higher and
purer things, or there is a naturalness about it that carries
its own justification ; but the lower tone which, after knowing
better things, is deliberately adopted by the experienced man
of the world, this it is that defiles the soul.
Geoffrey Trafford strolled along, brightened by the in-
fluence of the light and color round him, and thought how
unmistakable were the characteristics of race from the chil-
dren's games to the soldiers' uniforms, from the set of tb"i
men's hats to the shape of the women's hands, from the mode
of cooking to the mode of thinking which underlies all.
How radically un-Teutonic was all about him ! Yes, Paris
THE WOOING OT. 141
was a very delightful place for a fortnight or a month at most,
but after that, there was nothing to keep a man there if he
had outlived the days when a love affair was a matter of im-
portance (' And that," thought Trafford, " is a movable
date "), unless, indeed, there was a revolution he would
grant that would be exciting ; but having been in the gay city
in December, '51, he had had enough of that sort of excite-
ment. Now he would leave ; his visit had been altogether a
fiasco. Bolton was right ; it was time he began to make a
place for himself. Though no partisan in politics, he had
some convictions ; and at any rate his long-neglected profes-
sion offered him occupation, interest, perhaps fortune ; and
perhaps mingling in the busy actual life of London would
bring convictions and earnestness and the salt of energy to
brace him. Yes, he would go to-morrow no, to-morrow
would be Wednesday, and it would only be polite to look in
at Mrs. Berry's reception, and bid adieu to the fair widow
and her " rabble rout." " Besides, I should like to see how
the little countess-elect bears herself." At this point of his
meditations, Trafford stopped under the shade of a great
chestnut tree, and Maggie's earnest, innocent eyes seemed
again to look into his as they did the night before, when she
said : " I may marry my own cousin, Mr. Trafford, but I
will never marry yours." " They are not fine eyes, but sweet.
By Jove ! this woman has fine eyes ! " as a tall lady in black
silk and a cloud of black Brussells lace, with one damask
rose in her black lace bonnet, came up to him. She held a
small gold-edged book in one hand ; the other rested on the
arm of a substantial, dignified-looking dame de eampagnie ;
and she walked with queenly, haughty grace. As she ap-
proached, a smile of recognition curved her thin, firm lip,
and Trafford, bowing as though to an empress, raised his
hat.
" My good genius has guided me here this morning. To
what fortunate accident do I owe the pleasure of seeing
Madame la Marquise ? "
" I am en penitence, monsieur, and go to the chapelle exia-
toire ; it is my day to offer a taper and a wreath on the altar
of the poor prince."
" I presume it is not permitted for a heretic and a son of
perfidious Albion to accompany you ? "
" I fear not ; you might be a disturbing element. But dine
with us at six (M. De Beaumanoir will be charmed to see
142 THE WOOING O'T.
you), and after come with me to hear Cruvelli in ' Robert !
Diable.' "
" Madame, I gratefully accept."
Madame De Beaumanoir gave him a flashing look out of
her great black eyes, and passed on.
Trafford, too, roused from his dreaminess, walked briskly
away, and soon found himself in the region of the old book-
stalls, where he succeeded in discovering one of his former
allies, an old snuffy, mummified bookworm, with whom he
enjoyed a long and interesting conversation.
On inquiring for Lord Torchester while dressing to dine
with Madame De Beaumanoir, Trafford found he had not re-
turned since morning, from which his mentor argued that,
having been probably accepted, he had stayed to dine en
familk with Mrs. Berry and the fair fiancle. " Any way, the
matter is out of my hands, so I may put it out of my head
and amuse myself a little ; for altogether Torchester has been
a stumbling-block to me." But somehow the matter would
not go out of his head, and he felt positively relieved to find
himself at the Hotel de Pontigny and obliged to turn his
thoughts to totally different subjects.
Madame De Beaumanoir entertained Trafford, an elderly
vicomte with a red ribbon, and M. le mart, in salk a manger
which formed one of her own suite of apartments ; and a most
dainty apartment it was : the walls a pale gray, richly but
lightly decorated in the Pompeian style ; the hangings of soft
amber, fringed and relieved with borders of red-brown velvet.
The dinner was perfection. The poetically arranged des-
sert, with its delicate service of engraved glass and silver, the
profusion of flowers, the noiseless attendance which seemed
to anticipate every want, the easy elegance, the quiet sim-
plicity, made one forget, by the absence of effort, the immense
cost at which this completeness was attained.
Then the demi-toilette of madam rich, dull, thick silk, of
the most delicate spring-like green, with quantities of price-
less white lace, and emeralds sparkling at ears and throat a
sort of half-subdued sparkle in her great eyes, and a rich
color in her clear brunette cheek.
" Can the force of civilization further go t " thought Traf-
ford, as he unfolded his napkin and prepared to enjoy his
potage d la printanier, " Would Bolton enjoy this ? No ; it
is too poetical for him."
M. le mart was a quiet old gentleman admirably suited to
THE WOOING O'T. 143
be the husband of madame. His tastes led him to harmless
and inexpensive pursuits, with which his wife never interfered
nay, so far furthered, that on his fete day she always pre-
sented him with the newest invention of microscopes, or cases,
or specimens, or whatever else might gratify the tastes of a
naturalist ; and let him wander about as much as he liked
with a bag-net at the end of a stick, catching butterflies and
spiders to his heart's content.
M. le Vicomte was an especial friend of the marquis an ad-
vanced student of nature, the mention of whose name would send
a thrill through every museum in Europe, and make the Brit-
ish megatherum rattle its bones in approbation ; and Trafford
could not help admiring the quiet tact with which the suave
hostess suggested topics that might please and occupy these
gentlemen, while an occasional glance at Trafford, after a
fashion he well remembered, revealed the supreme contempt
with which she regarded them.
"And who will escort me to the opera?" asked Madame
De Beaumanoir as the servants withdrew after placing coffee
and the chasse on the table. " M. le Vicomte, M. Trafford,
and you, chere amie I can give all places in my loge. I have
long intended to hear Cruvelli in ' Robert,' and this is her
second appearance."
" Madame will excuse me," said the vicomte ; " I have
promised to meet the curator of the Berlin Museum."
"And I," interrupted the marquis eagerly, "accompany
monsieur ; we have so arranged it. Nevertheless, Monsieur
Trafford will no doubt, give thee his arm, chere atnie, and so
thou shalt not be alone."
" I am quite at madame's orders," said Trafford.
"Then let us go," replied madame, glancing at tTnependuk,
" and enjoy it en cannoisseurs from beginning to end."
So the marchioness rose, rang for her maid, and went in
search of her cachemire.
" What a life ! " said Madame De Beaumanoir as they rolled
toward the Italiens in her exquisitely appointed brougham.
" Imagine a grasshopper or a beetle for the aim of one's ex-
istence the discovery of a new variety of moth or lizard with
additional legs being the fullness of one's ambition ? What
sympathy could a woman lik myself extract from creatures
such as these ? "
"The moths, or M.lemari?" asked Trafford, with mis-
chief. Madame de Beaumanoir looked at him reproachfully,
and kept silent. "Forgive me, madame," he resume^
144 TffE WOOING O'T.
smiling ; " but when I see the glorious light of your eyes all
undimmed, the soft tint of cheek and lip as fresh as ever, I
cannot believe that the want of that sympathy which monsieur
bestows on the spiders and the flies can be so essential to
your happiness and well-being."
11 Fi done / " returned the marquise ; " you little dream the
emptiness of my life."
Trafford answered by a tender, inquiring glance, while he
thought to himself, " She is just the same as ever, wonderfully
little changed."
The overture was over when they reached the theatre.
Madame De Beaumanoir, whose box was next the stage,
seated herself en evidence, facing the house, and swept it with
her glass, naming, as she did so, most of the celebrities she
recognized, ticking them off, as it were, with little epigram-
matic sentences far from flattering to their subjects ; then she
listened to a few bars of the music she had been so anxious
to hear.
" Where Is that cousin whose salvation you so impressively
confided to me a week ten days ago ? " she asked, suddenly.
" Man dieu ! what a boy he is ! the most English Englishman
I ever met. What will he be? But why has he nevei
returned ? He paid me one visit, and it appeared such an
agony to make his entrance that apparently he had no courage
to retire himself, so he staid an eternity. I suppose his
sufferings were so great, that he could never encounter them
again."
" Ah 1 madame ! " replied Trafford, laughing, " I blush to
have so troubled you, but I was in extremity ; and now all is
over, I fear."
" What ! is the young gentleman lost ? Has he absolutely
married the blonde mees whom his mother feared so much ? "
" No. I don t think he can quite have managed that, but
I fancy he is as totally lost."
"Bon dieu /" cried the marquise, with a flash in her
black eyes, " if a son of mine did so "
"I should not like to be the belle fille" said Trafford,
bowing.
" Truly, there should be lettres de cachet even now for such
imbeciles. And think how grateful a young man would be on
coming forth after six months incarceration, safe, sound, free,
and in his right mind."
** With the world before him where to choose those frag-
THE WOOING O'T. 145
merits of love and sympathy which concealment and Illegality
render so piquant. Is it not so, dear lady ? "
"Trafford," murmured Madame De Beaumanoir with a
long, upward look at her companion, as he stood opposite
her, leaning against the side of the box, " how changed you
are ! How hard and cold ! "
" Au contraire" returned Trafford, laughing, "it is you,
madame, who have assumed the hard-hearted riJle, and would
separate true lovers. I also would separate them, but deplore
the grief I cause."
" Your system is so different," said Madame De Beauma-
noir, thoughtfully ; " you try to reconcile such impossible
things."
" How so ? " asked Trafford.
" You will have freedom of choice, disinterested affection,
prudence, regard for station, regard for social considerations ;
and when in the face of these imcompatibilities a marriage is
concluded, the unhappy pair are to exist solely for each
other, and, the poor wife especially, to have no divertissement
whatever. Ah, monsieur ! I have been a good deal in your
country and know your life, and though an English lover "
here madame smiled, looked down, and then flashed up in a
bewitching sort of way " an English lover may be very
amiable, very nice as for an English husband Dieu irfcn
garde!"
" Well, but many of our wives manage to emancipate them-
selves," replied Trafford, after a pause and look properly
suggestive of admiration.
" Ah ! " cried la marquise, drawing herself up with an air
of proud disdain, " but at what a cost of self-respect I Noth-
ing can atone for losing the distinguished esteem of the social
circle amid which one lives ; but it is here exactly that the
great selfishness of English nature makes so much misery and
confusion."
" Pray continue ; I am all attention."
" Marriage is a most excellent institution indispensable,
in short ; but as you contrive it in England it is the suffering
of individuals that secures the well-being of the mass. ' The
family ' is essential in our present stage of civilization and an
Englishman, not satisfied with securing this, demands the
life-long thraldom of the female head, and is generally exact-
ing and disagreeable, ia proportion as he honestly submits
himself to the bondage he inflicts. As to us, who can say
that the family tie is not profoundly felt and acknowledged
10
146 ' THE WOOING &T.
in France ? And where can truer wives be found ? Yes,
monsieur, in face of your insular prejudices, I repeat it.
Where can wives be found, with deeper, truer regard for the
interests of their husbands and families more ready to
sacrifice themselves on the shrine of duty ? But the common-
sense of our nation tells us that marriage and maternity are
grave things, entailing so many degrading minutiae and
sombre occupations that the higher life requires some extra
ailment, some more ornamental affection, the blossoms, as it
were, on the rugged boughs of existence, which can hardly
flourish in the almost unavoidably vulgar intimacy of married
life ; and thus we allow to both husband and wife the solace
of exterior friendship an ideal affection to enliven the dull
routine of everyday life generally most innocent anH
unexacting in character and but I pause ; it is a subject on
which I have thought much, while to you it may be simply
uninteresting."
" It is charming to hear your exposition of anything, ma-
dame, and to me your views are striking and original ; never-
theless, being English, though not so insular as many, I should
like my wife, if I ever possess such a treasure, to bestow both
har real and her ideal affectiom upon me ; and, though at
the risk of your thinking me a brute, I must confess that if
I were constantly receiving confidences from and supplying
sympathy to a beautiful woman, or even a pretty one, I fear a
time would come when I should consider Platonic affection
very meagre diet indeed."
There was small disapprobation in the melting glance
which Trafford encountered ; and he himself was surprised
to feel how little it stirred him, for he was half unconscious of
the talisman his memory held, in the vision impressed on it by
a pair of soft gray eyes, so true, so earnest, that it seemed as
though falsehood and sophistry must strip themselves, and
. stand confessed in their light.
" And I did not think you so English, man ami" said
Madame De Beaumanoir, looking down on the splendid fan
with which she was playing ; " but you must admit the
injustice of English husbands ; they will not give their wives
straw to make brick, neither will they let them seek it amid
the stubble of their neighbors' field."
Trafford's reply was prevented by the entrance of an
attache of the Russian Embassy, a beautiful young barbarian,
with an elaborately civilized exterior, who seemed not too
THE WOOING &T. 147
well pleased to find a distinguished looking Englishman
installed in the place of honor and confidence.
Madame De Beaumanoir was exquisitely courteous and
complaisant. Nevertheless " Monsieur le Prince " did not
stay long, and went forth from the presence of la marquise,
gnawing his under lip with a venomous look in his light green
eyes.
" I am glad you gave that young fellow his cnoge" said
Trafford, with a mischievous smile ; " there are some things
which remain in the memory; and I connot forget how,
nearly six years ago, I was sent adrift for (if I remember
right) a compatriot of this gentleman, and how bloodthirsty I
felt, almost, toward your fair self."
" Ah ! fi done, Trafford," said Madame De Beaumanoir,
with a smile and a sigh, "you were so impulsive in those
days. You went away without giving me an opportunity of
explanation : and I never saw you again till you startled me
by your sudden reappearance the other day. Ah ! you have
given me but little idea what your life has been through this
long absence."
" Dare I hope it would interest you ? "
" Come and try. I can stop you when I am weary."
Other privileged visitors interrupted the conversation, so
Trafford accompanied Madame De Beaumanoir back to sup
in her boudoir, and detail his adventures. It was late before
he reached his hoteL
He threw his gloves and handkerchief on the table, and
with them a withered rose a large creamy yellow rose, with
velvety petals, and dark green polished leaves which had
lain (the crowning elegance of her toilet) where the lace of
Madame De Beaumanoir's corsage crossed low on her bosom.
" Lord Torchester has asked for you several times, sir."
said Trafford's valet, " and begged to be told whenever you
came in."
" Well, it's late now," said Geoffrey, looking at his watch.
" Two o'clock, by Jove ! and I am tired and sleepy "
" Here is my lord."
" Send away your fellow," said the earl, coming up to his
cousin. The young man looked pale ; his hair was disordered ;
he still wore the light gray suit in which he started so fresh
and hopeful in the morning ; but, without being able to define
in what it consisted, Trafford felt there was a great change in
the earl.
MS THE WOOING O'T.
" Sit do\vn, Tor," said Geoffrey, kindly, seeing the lad
hesitated. " You wanted to speak to me ? "
" \ny commands for England ? " he returned, trying
^ard to put a good face on it. " I start in the morning."
" Oh, indeed ? " judiciously avoiding any questions or
expressions of surprise. "Well, I dare say, you've had
enough of it and so have I. If I hadn't promised Madame
De Beaumanoir to go to a soiree at some historical person-
age's hotel to-morrow, I think I would go with you."
" I wish you would. Oh, Geoff ! " after a short pause, and
breaking down. " It's all over she won't have me ! " And
by Jove ! didn't she talk and advise me ! I felt ready to cut
my throat, Geoff. I am certain that brute of a cousin of
hers is at the bottom of it. I wish to heaven he'd break his
neck ! There isn't another girl like her in the world. It's too
bad, isn't it ? And yet she seemed so sorry for me. Well, I
came away half mad, and went I scarcely know where, when
I stumbled on that fellow De Bragance. He asked me to
dine with him, and was monstrous civil. I was glad to go
anywhere with any one. The champagne was very cool and
refreshing I think I drank a good deal of it. Then we had
cards, and I had a regular run of luck at first ; but after by
Jove, I did loose ! Never lost so heavily at a sitting before."
" How much ?" asked Trafford with great interest.
" Two thousand. So I got up and left them, feeling giddy
and queer. But as I walked here I cleared and seemed to
grow cool as if I had been plunged in cold water, and after
being stunned a bit felt braced up again. I fear I have been
rather making a fool of myself, so I'll get away to England
see the mother run down to Mount Trafford Will you join
me there, old fellow ? We might go on to Scotland or some-
where. After all, Geoff, you are right. Noblesse oblige"
" Well, you have had a squeeze : but you'll be none the
Averse of it. Two thousand is a serious pull ; but if it cures
you of gaming, the money is not ill-spent. My aunt will be
overjoyed to see you ! "
" Yes ! but the worst of it is she'll think me such a block-
head. You know I wrote her an idiotic letter, asking her
consent making quite sure of Maggie Miss Grey."
" Oh, your mother will never mention the subject , she will
understand it is all up by your returning."
" I say, Geoff, would you mind writing her a line, just to
say it is all over ? You needn't go into too many particulars.
It will prevent questions and bother."
THE WOOJNG O'T. 149
" I will if you wish ; but you must leave the modus operand^
to me."
" Oh, certainly ; and now I'll be off to bed, for I am dead
beat."
" The wound is but skin deep after all," thought Trafford,
looking after him as he left the room. " Denial and loss of
money appear to have wrought a miraculous cure. Now had
mademoiselle said ' Yes,' I dare say Tor would have been
true as steel, and quite content with his lot nor would it
have been a bad one. By Heaven ! life is an awful puzzle
and a muddle to boot. I am highly pleased this young
feliow's affair has ended as it has ; but I wonder how the
real balance stands. In spite of Madame la Marquise and
her logic, I fancy there's pure metal enough in that brown-
haired little witch to stand the common uses of life and the
disenchanting minutiae of matrimony without requiring ideal
affection or exterior sympathy. Poor young thing ! perhaps
she has made an ideal of this cousin of hers, and may have
bitter disappointment yet. High or low that pretty gentle
Maggie ought to marry a gentleman."
Having arrived at this profound conclusion Trafford went
to bed.
The day but one after these occurences Lady Torchester
received the following letter :
" MY DEAR AUNT,
"Before this reaches you, you will have embraced your
prodigal, and [ have to congratulate yon on the happy termi-
nation of your fears and anxieties. Torchester returns to you
free and sane, none the worse for this little episode, which,
on the whole, has not been to his discredit.
" His chief error has been unworldliness and a boyish dis
regard of that station in life to which it has pleased God to
call him : but he has done nothing unworthy of a gentleman.
" Now you must not suppose that I have been the smallest
use in the matter. Neither you nor I nor any one else could
have prevented Torchester laying himself and his .belongings
at the feet of his divinity, and it is solely to the honest pride
and womanly instinct of Miss Grey that we owe his deliver-
ance. This girl is no adventuress, my dear aunt, but a sound-
hearted little Briton, quite willing to keep to her own class
and work her own way, Still I think a hint I dropped re*
specting the close tie existing between yourself and your son,
and the wishes you entertained as to his future, may hava
iyo THE WOOING O'T.
helped (if anything was required) to confirm her in her re
jection of a splendid offer, for she seems to have a peculiar
regard for a mother's right to love and obedience. In short,
I should like to interest you in Miss Grey, for I imagine she
is rather friendless, and is certainly at present with a very
objectionable party the widow described by Torchesler ; who,
though herself merely vulgar and foolish, will inevitably
become the prey of a card-sharping French count ; and what
Tor's ' divinity ' will do then, I have no notion. However,
for us ' all's well that ends well,' and I earnestly hope your
future may be untroubled with fears for your son's well-being.
" I dare say I shall see you next week, for though there is
much to amuse, I find Paris less fascinating the older I grow.
" Can I do anything for you here ? I have really quite a
pretty taste for lace and rococo objects of all kinds, and the
temptations of this pleasant city are more in number than
the hairs of one's head.
" Always, dear Lady Torchester,
" Your devoted nephew,
"GEOFFREY TRAFFORD."
To this, in due course, Trafford received a rapturous reply.
The beloved boy had returned, and was all a mother's
heart could wish. The unpleasant topic was never named
between them. Geoff himself was the best and most judicious
of kinsman ; and as to Miss Grey that sweet girl had a
friend for life in Lady Torchester, who would send for her at
once, only that for obvious reasons this would be imprudent.
But if Geoff would see her, and with his usual tact explain
that she" might command Lady Torchester, he would largely
add to the obligations under which he had laid his affection-
ate aunt.
" Hum ! " said Trafford to himself, as he lighted a cheroot,
" this is a devilish difficult, delicate task her ladyship has al-
lotted me. I wish she would write herself. Yet I'd like Miss
Grey to know she has a substantial friend in case of emer-
gencies ; but how the saucy monkey will take it is another
matter." So he sat and smoked and meditated for the space
of half an hour.
TOE WOOING O'T. )jt
CHAPTER XIV.
As THI appalling facts gradually dawned on Mrs. Berry,
first that Maggie had absolutely refused the earl, and second-
ly that he had left Paris, her grief and anger were deep and
loud. Yet not to that unendurable extent which they might
otherwise have attained had her own affairs not pre-occupied
her considerably.
"Well," she exclaimed, on the evening of the fatal day y
" I must say there never was any one worse treated than that
poor young gentleman nobleman, I mean. After all the en-
couragement you gave him ! wearing his gloves and taking
his bouquets, and letting him hand you the kettle, to say
nothing of your losing yourself for two good hours with him
at that tiresome ball. Eh ? what do you say ? It was with
Mr. Trafford ? Well, more the shame for you to be such a
fool ! Couldn't you see with half an eye that all he wanted
was to keep Lord Torchester away from you ? You don't
think he'd have taken that trouble ? Much you know about
it ! contradicting a person of my experience, to say nothing
of your ingratitude to me ! after all you have cost me !
swindling me out of that beautiful dress for it was
nothing but swindling ! Do you think I'd have bought
it for you if I did not think you were to be Countess
of Torchester ? Oh ! it's all very well to cry. Much
good that will do ! Yes ! you have made me a nice return.
And there's Lady Salter and Selina, and Miss Maclaggan
won't they be asking questions, and so surprised that
Lord Torchester is gone ! ' And what's happened to take
him off ? Was he obliged to take his seat and the oaths ? '
I'm sure it's enough to make any one swear. ' When will he
come back ? ' and all that ! Oh, / know them ! Do you
think they'd believe me if I said you'd refused him ? No !
not if I went on my bended knees. Oh ! you are a bad,
cruel girl, Maggie."
" And you are too bad ! " cried Maggie, wearied out with
fatigue and excitement, but badgered into a little spirit again.
" You know I never thought Lord Torchester would absolute-
ly propose for me ; and I always told you to put such things
out of your head. And now you are vexed because I wouldn't
152 THE WOOING OT.
make myself miserable, and let that good, true-hearted young
man make a fool of himself. As to my dress that shall cost
you nothing : I have two pounds in my money box. I'll give
you the rest next month, and as you are so disgusted with me
I can go away and not trouble you any more though I shall
never forget all your kindness but I don't want to be a
burden." And poor Maggie, fairly broken down, burst into
a hearty good cry.
" Don't be such a ridiculous goose, Maggie," returned the
widow, not unmoved. You needn't leave me if you don't
like to ; at any rate not till I'm married ; but you are enough
to vex a saint, and I'm annoyed enough besides about other
things. There, dry your eyes and make me a cup of coffee,
for Rosalie is out. And now I shouldn't be a bit surprised
if the earl came back but if you refuse him a second time !
well, ducking in a pond would be too good for you ! "
But Lord Torchester did not come back. Mrs. Berry, after
a few days, seemed to forget him, and indeed Maggie saw so
little of her that there was small opportunity for conversation.
The fair widow seemed altogether absorbed by Madame Von
Garn. They went bargain-hunting in the mornings, drove in
the Bois together in the afternoons Mrs. Bern- providing the
carriages and went to soire'es and theaters, the entree to both
supplied by the baroness ; so Maggie was left in peace. Left
rather too much, she confessed to herself. Though far from
regretting her refusal of Lord Torchester, she was surprised
to find how much she missed him to feel how his notice had
lifted her out of her former insignificance, and how, when the
sunshine of his favor was withdrawn, s"he was quietly but
instantly let down again into an original lowliness. Though
Maggie was woman enough to smile at the cause, she was
sufficiently human to dislike the effect. On the whole, these
were glorious days for Monsieur Du Val. The widow had
given up her music lessons for some time, but the kind little
artist, grateful for Maggie's many good offices, and doubtless
attracted by the tender grace of her pleasant youth, had
begged to continue Mademoiselle's for his own gratification.
80 Maggie enlivened his little den au dnqiiieme three times a
week on her own account, and as often to read on Monsieur's,
What, however, disturbed her most was the total disappear-
ance of Mr. Trafford. " I wonder did Lord Torchester tell
him I said ' No,' " she thought over and over again. " I am
sure he thinks I never could refuse such an offer, and that the
earl, warned by him, retreated of his own accord. I should
THE WOOING O'T. 153
!ike him, to know the truth ; but / could never tell." per-
haps Mr. Trafford had returned to England with his cousin ?
But no : he had called and left a card since that young noble-
man's departure. And Maggie was most provokingly out on
that occasion, though of late almost a prisoner for want of
a companion-
Then he did not appear tn either of the two Wednesday
evenings succeeding the ball the ball which seemed to Mag-
gie to have been the culmination of her career ; and these
evenings were unusually flat, as every one tired at the first,
and Monsieur De Bragance was absent from the second
gone, his sister said, to London, on affairs of the most vital
interest vital perhaps to nationalities ; but enough ; it was
not for her to speak.
Ten days had elapsed from the day of the memorable ball,
and Maggie was greatly disgusted with herself she felt so low, so
deserted, so unreasonably desponding ; and with a brave
resolution to shake off the disagreeable incubus, she proposed
to Monsieur Du Val to accompany him part of the way to
Passy, where he went once a week to give lessons in &pcnsion-
bourgeoise. Monsieur gladly consented ; some slight scruples
offered themselves as to mademoiselle returning alone, but
these were quickly dispersed by Maggie's reminder, " There
is so much permitted to English girls." So they started very
happily, and our little heroine rapidly felt the benefit of the
air and sun and movement : the wholesomeness of outdoor
life. She enjoyed the curious mixture of philosophy and sen-
timent, shrewdness and childishness, which characterized her
companion's talk, indeed he had to remind her twice of the
distance she had to return alone, before she would accept his
warning.
Meantime, the days which succeeded Lord Torchester's
departure had in them a new element for Geoffrey Trafford,
which though he felt it keenly, he could neither account for
nor define. He half wished to return to London, but some-
thing held him still in Paris. He professed to be charmed
with Madame De Beaumanoir, who did her very best to turn his
head, and who was handsome, spirituellc, and young enough to
fascinate any man, nevertheless she could work no spell on him,
of which she was quite aware. Consequently " ce cher Traf-
ford " assumed enormous proportions in her estimation, and
she brought heaps of invitations and engagements to the capti-
vating Englishman, who, half bored, half amused, accepted
154 THE WOOING O'T.
them he scarce knew why. Perhaps they helped to cover his
reluctance to leave Paris from himself.
One bright morning he strolled away up the Quai d'Orsay,
vaguely dreaming, and trying to rouse himself into activity^
in consequence of a curt but impressive letter from Bolton,
from which Trafford could gather that his incomparable tact
was supposed to have saved the earl, but that the family
solicitor's soul was bowed down with disappointment at his
presistent waste of time.
"However," said Trafford, apologetically to himself, "I
really must deliver Lady Torchester's message to Miss Grey
before I leave, and to do that I must find her alone so here
goes. I did not think I had strolled so far."
He proceeded leisurely across the Pont des Invalides,
smiling scornfully at himself for the mixture of eagerness and
reluctance with which he sought the interview. He would
not acknowledge, even in thought, that there could be a
shadow of danger to him, experienced and worldly wise as he
was, and not over weak toward women, as he rather conceit-
edly told himself; so he indulged unrestrainedly in the
reminiscences of the ball. It would have greatly surprised
any of his good fellow friends, could they have peeped
through the outer husk, as curious naturalists do through
glass hives, and seen the working of his thoughts. The
wonderful fidelity with which the scene at the Hotel de Ville
was recalled, and all the looks and tones and variations of Mrs.
Berry's insignificant little companion (who, after all was merely
" a young person " in the eyes, of such right-minded people as
Lady and Miss Salter), brought back and listened to over
again. It was by no means the first time they had so present-
ed themselves, but they had never been so dominant as in
this quiet early stroll. So deep was he in thought or reverie
that he did not notice a lady and gentleman who coming from
the direction of Passy, met him at the corner of Rue Jean
Goujon the gentleman a haggard, light-eyed man, with long,
wild, brown velvet coat and an indescribable felt hat, such as
none save an artist far gone in Bohemianism could wear
even in Paris, where stranger head-gear can be worn than in
London. He was talking and gesticulating eagerly to his
companion, a slight young lady in a pretty fresh muslin
morning dress, a little straw bonnet with white ribbons and
bluettes, a black lace vail tied loosely over it, and a black-silk
scarf ; she looked uneasily around, as if seeking for escape,
but brightened visibly as fhey came up with the solitary
THE WOOING O'T. 155
Englishman, who as more startled than he would like to own,
to hear his own name pronounced by the very pleasant voice,
the tones of which he was just then recalling.
" Mr. Trafford ! How strange to meet you here ! "
There was unmistakable pleasure in Mr. Trafford's deep
e^es, as he replied quietly and suitably ; but there was also
irrepressible inquiry in the glance he gave her companion.
" And how came she here, so far from Mrs. Berry's then ? "
he asked.
" I escorted my red republican music-master part of the
way to Passy, and returning met Monsieur."
She spoke in French, with a slight wave of the hand toward
her companion, the dreaded Grenier. Both gentlemen raised
their hats, and the Frenchman poured forth a voluble eulo-
gium on the noble and rational English system which gave
young ladies liberty, freedom of choice, etc.
" He doesn't understand a word of English," said Maggie,
confidentially, in a low tone ; and if it would not be very incon-
venient, would you mind walking back with me ? It is very-
stupid, I dare say, but I am so afraid of him."
" Certainly, Miss Gray ; I wanted to see you."
" Wanted to see me ? " in a tone of the greatest surprise.
" Very well."
So the trio proceeded down the AiMe d'Antin ; the artist's
brow becoming more and more overcast. He spoke political-
ly ; of aristocrats contemptuously, of kings murderously, ot
standing armies viciously. Still Trafford was calmly polite,
and almost amused at the increasing fear and uneasiness in
Maggie's face. At last, on reaching the Champs Elyse'es,
where a tolerably strong current of passers-by was setting to-
ward the Barrie're de 1'Etoile, he offered her his arm, which
she immediately and gladly took. This very strong step, as
it would seem to a Frenchman, appeared to silence and anni-
hilate M. Grenier, who suddenly raised his hat and bid them
" Good-day."
" Had I known the effect, I should have offered you my
arm before," said Trafford laughing. " Poor M. Grenier, he
certainly is a very objectionable cavalier. I should avoid
him as much as possible, if I were you."
" Avoid him I Yes, of course," cried Maggie ; " but who
could have dreamed of meeting him away in the Alice Mar-
bceuf ? And it is so many days since I went out that I felt
quite triste and ill, sitting a 1 ' ~ V- 'n the house ; so I begged
156 THE WOOING O'T.
M. Du Val to let me walk part of the way to Passy with
him."
" And how is it that you have been so much alone ? " asked
Trafford, looking down into his companion's eyes, with a kind-
ly elder-brotherly look that passed right into her heart with-
out fluttering or disturbing it in any way.
" I hardly know accident. Mrs. Berry has been much
engaged, and well, I think I am a little out of favor."
" I suspect you have been a naughty, disobedient girl, eh ?
I have always known you are a rebel to the hearts core."
" Only against unreasonable things," said Maggie gayly,
feeling suddenly unaccountably joyous and brave hopeful of
the future, charmed with the present.
" But will you not come in ? ; ' she added, quite naturally,
as they reached the widow's residence.
" If you will permit me," returned Trafford, following her
up stairs to Mrs. Berry's apartments. That lady was out, but
expected to return shortly ; so Trafford subsided comfortably
into an easy chair, in the cool shady salon, fragrant with the
flowers which Maggie's care always supplied. While that
young lady, relieved to escape the heat and glare without,
took off her bonnet and scarf, and took up a large paper fan
which lay on the table. The slight flush which the morning's
warmth had lent her cheek deepening the tint of her eyes,
while a sweet bright expression played around her lips.
Trafford looked at her steadily for a moment, and then,
half maliciously, exclaimed, " Poor Torchester ! "
Whereupon Maggie's cheek and brow, and even the morsel
of snowy throat seen above the collar of her dress, blushed
crimson. " You need not pity him," she replied, gayly : " I
dare say he is coining to his senses by this time, and is much
obliged to me for helping him to recover them ; for all that, I
am very fond of Lord Torchester, so do not let us talk of
him any more."
" But," returned Trafford, shifting his position to another
easy chair within a more confidential distance of his compan-
ion, " I came to talk to you about him, or, at any rate, the
' affaire ' Torchester, as the French would say, and you must
aot smother me at once. I was on my way here when I met
you and your favored adorer just now."
" Don't talk in that tone, Mr. Trafford," entreated Maggie,
with sudden gravity. " You do not know the horror I hav
of that man, the disgust I have even for myself, to thini
THE WOOING OT. 157
that I am obliged to come in contact with him, the difficulty
" She stopped abruptly.
" You are surely not obliged to see much of him ? The
brute is not presumptuous ? " asked Trafford, with a sudden
knitting of the brow and darkening of the eye, very different
from the expression with which he had looked at her a mo-
ment before.
" No, no ! I manage very well ; but you know Mrs. Berry is
no great help ; any one of the count's set is a rara avis in her
eyes. She is quite stupid about it ; but there, I must not bore
you with my small woes and affairs, especially as you can do
me no good.''"
Trafford made no immediate reply ; he was thinking how
he could best execute the countess' delicate mission. At last
he exclaimed, " Can you not quit this Mrs. Berry ? "
" There are several excellent reasons why I should not,"
returned Maggie, smiling. " First of all, I do not see very
clearly where else to go ; and but you are really very good
to trouble about me I suppose I shall drift into some resting-
place some time or other," and Maggie rose and began to re-
arrange some moss roses and heliotrope in a china basket, as
though she wanted to put an end to the topic.
" I had a letter from Torchester's mother a few days ago,"
began Trafford, abruptly floundering into his subject from
sheer inability to lead up to it. " She has made many very
flattering remarks about you and "
" About me ? " cried Maggie, in utter astonishment.
" Yes. You see, I thought it right to let her know the true
version of the affair ; indeed I promised Tor I would that
night when you sent him away in despair. So I wrote her a
despatch descriptive of your refusal of the heir of all the
Traffords, etc., and she is much struck by your disinterested-
ness and high principal, and all the rest of it. Now don't be
angry, Miss Grey ; I feel as if I were ducedly impertinent,
talking in this strain to you, but the upshot is, Lady Torches-
ter would be delighted to be of use to you in any way, and
begs you will command her."
Maggie's color deepened again, and then she laughed.
" What a dreadful ' rock ahead ' I must have been, she
said, " that Lady Torchester's gratitude for her son's escape
should take so distinct a form. She is very good ; but I don't
exactly see how I can go to her ladyship and say, ' Take
care of me, because I have refused your son.' I am afraid,
Mr. Trafford, the caretaking will remain, as it has always
158 THE WOOING OT.
done, on my own shoulders ; and," she added, with a pretty
sauciness, exceedingly piquante, " They are not unequal to
the task."
" Well," returned Trafford, with a caressing smile, " you
have, on the whole, answered with more amiability than might
have been expected from so strong a republican. Neverthe-
less, according to Lady Torchester's notions and my own, I
confess that you have acted with an umvorldliness that is cer-
tainly not usual, and as certainly deserving of well, let us
say respect"
" Pray say no more about it, Mr. Trafford ; it seems to me
the mosc natural thing in the world not to marry the man you
don't love/'
" Do you think love, then, the greatest good in life ? "
" Yes, I believe I do," said Maggie, slowly and thought-
fully ; " at all events, I should be sorry to renounce all
chance of giving and receiving it ; but," changing her tone,
" 1 suppose you think me an utter simpleton ? "
" I cannot make up my mind which you are, wise or
foolish."
" Not at your age ? " cried Maggie, in honest surprise ; by
no means thinking or intending to say that Trafford was old,
only that he had seen and known enough to decide on such
an eminently youthful subject.
" A man cannot decide every question, social and political,
at thirty-three, or fifty-three, or even a hundred and three,"
returned Trafford, laughing, yet just the least bit nettled at
the idea that he might be entitled by age to decide the ques-
tion with the disinterestedness of a looker on.
" I should have thought," Maggie was beginning, when
Mrs. Berry entered, not in her grandest toilet, and very dusty,
after a hard morning's shopping with Mrs. Maclaggan.
She was, on the whole, rather comforted to find Trafford
in quiet conversation with the sinning Maggie ; " for," she
argued hastily, by the light which her special intelligence
shed on things in general, " if there wasn't a chance of the
arl coming back, it's little he'd trouble after Maggie or me.
He's not off guard yet."
"Well, I'm sure, Mr. Trafford," she said aloud, "the sight
of you is good for sore eyes ! Where have you been since the
ball ? Somehow that seemed a regular break up. The
count's gone, and Mr. DeCourcy Jones, and my lord and I
declare I do miss him ; a nicer young gentleman nobleman,
I mean never lived."
THE WOOING O'T. 155
" Torchester is very fortunate in pleasing you, Mrs. Berry.
His mother has been very unwell, and was anxious to se
him ; indeed, he ought to have gone to her before."
" All right," thought Mrs. Berry. He has no idea his cou-
sin was refused ; I hope that little goose won't blab ? "
"I shall not let this fearful female know how much 1
know," thought Trafford, " If she still has hopes of Tor she
may take better care of her protegee :"
" Dear me," said the widow, aloud, " that's a sad trouble.
I hope her ladyship isn't bad, and that we may soon have his
lordship back again."
" I have no doubt he will return to Paris on the very first
opportunity," said Trafford, mendaciously. " The Marquise
De Beaumanoir is meditating a. fete and insists on Torchester
assisting ; in short, there are endless attractions here."
Maggie who was partly behind Mrs. Berry, caught his
glance as he spoke and shook her head reprovingly, even
while an irrepressible smile sparkled over " eye, lip, and
cheek."
" Well, I am sure it's a delightful place," said Mrs. Berry,
cheering up under the influence of her vaguely awakened
hopes ; " but it gets rather warm. I'm going down with the
Baron and Baroness Von Garn, and Lady and Miss Salter,
and a very nice young Englishman, a relation of theirs, Mr.
Spencer Smith quite a fashionable young man (perhaps you
know him, Mr. Trafford ?) " Mr. Trafford did not think he
did. " Well, we are all going down to Fontainebleau for a
week. The baron is going to make an arrangement at a very
first-rate hotel for us all, and I dare say we shall be very
jolly. I am sorry I can't take Maggie ; but you see it's the
baroness' party, and she did not ask her."
" And, indeed, I should much rather stay here," cried
Maggie.
"Well, that's all right," returned Mrs. Berry, a little
annoyed at her tone ; "and," intending to be at once playful
and deep by holding on to the Trafford connection, " I'll
thank you, Mr. Trafford, to look in now and again and see
that she hasn't run away with that old music-master of hers :
for I don't know any one else she likes."
Trafford, perfectly aware that such a charge was a com-
plete outrage of the bienseancee, determined to accept it.
Visits to a girl so utterly unknown as poor Maggie could not
possibly be any detriment to her, while they might be of use
iu her loneliness, should that brute of an artist turn up*
tSo THE WOOING O'T.
Nevertheless, he looked at Maggie to see what she thought,
and fancied he read approbation in her eyes ; so he very
soberly replied that it would give him great pleasure to be of
the slightest use to Mrs. Berry. Did his commission include
written reports to Mrs. Berry ? or simply an abstract of
occurrences on her return ? Was he empowered to arrest Miss
Grey should suspicions arise of any understanding with M.
Du Val, and imprison her in her own apartments ?
Mrs. Berry laughed loudly, and declared Trafford a funny
man ; then growing quite cordial, proposed a little claret and
water or brandy and water. " Now don't say no, if you'll
like some."
But Trafford steadily declined, and soon took his leave.
" Now, mark my words, Maggie," cried Mrs. Berry.
" We'll have Lord Torchester back again ; and I would be
pleased, if it were only to silence that nasty, ill-natured Selina
Salter. I'm sure I don't want to have her of our party to
Fontainebleau, but the baron has taken such a fancy to
young Spencer Smith, who is as rich as a Jew and quite a
man of fashion, and somehow mixed up with the Salters, that
it can't be helped. I don't quite know what to make of that
Trafford, but he is a pleasant fellow. I wonder would he
like to join us at Fontainebleau ? "
"You might ask him," said Maggie, demurely.
" Now, Maggie," continued the widow, not heeding her," I
want you to look over my muslin and barege dresses, my lace
scarfs, and summer things, for I want to be very nice, and we
start on Tuesday next. I rather fancy the count will join us,
if those horrid politics don't interfere. Isn't it odd how men
always take up with something tiresome and dry ? Why, they
even like dry wine ! Come Maggie, we'll go and turn over all
my things, and settle what you will alter while I am away.
Now, wouldn't it be glorious if I found the earl here, and you
engaged to him, when I came back ? If he does ask you
again, and you don't say ' Yes,' why, a lunitac asylum would
be the fittest place for you ! "
Mrs. Berry had been gone two days, and Maggie more than
once caught herself speculating M Mr. Trafford would really
trouble himself to call upon her as he had undertaken. She
told herself over and over again that he had only spoken in jest ,
that it was not to be supposed a clever, traveled, learned, fine
gentleman like him would care to talk to an ignorant, insig-
nificant girl such as she was ; he was quite different from poor
THE WOOING OT.
v -
Lord Torchester. Yet Maggie's true, stout heart suh
abasement from this humility. She was different fron.
destined by nature to a lower social position, and to this
was cheerfully submissive. He need not talk to her or notu.
her at all if he did not like : but if he did, she was not to be
moved or overwhelmed by his superiority, nor would she lose
a hair's breadth of her individuality, lowly though it was. It
would probably have puzzled Maggie to put all this into
words, but such was the real source of her conduct and man-
ner ; perhaps the secret of her great charm, even to a fastidi-
ous man like Trafford. Her unvarying good taste was found-
ed on a total absence of selfishness, and on the clear common-
sense, which but for a dangerous, sensitive warmth of heart,
might have secured her from most of the ills to which human
souls are liable.
Nor were her speculations occupied with Trafford only.
She had been delighted to find Monsieur De Bragance had
left Paris ; it seemed to her like breaking off his liason with
Mrs. Berry ; and in spite of that lady's provoking and annoy-
ing ways, Maggie was fond enough of and grateful enough to
her to wish earnestly for her escape from that fascinating
gentleman. As to her own future, she never felt so indispos-
ed to think about it. Come what might, she was better off
than when Mrs. Berry disentangled her from the Beverly
street chaos, and she should be able to make her own way
now, she hoped ; toward which end she worked diligently at
her music, taking advantage of Mrs. Berry's absence and
Monsieur Da Val's eagerness to instruct her.
She had enjoyed an unusually long lesson one warm after-
noon, and listened to many complaints from her querulous
little master, until he suddenly remembered that he had an
engagement and was almost late for it. Maggie therefore
left him, and descended leisurely to Mrs. Berry's apartments.
"Quelqu 1 un vous attend" said Rosalie, as she opened the
door. Maggie felt who it was ; and, as she expected, found
Geoffrey Trafford in the saloon, comfortably established in
an easy chair, reading an old number of the " Revue des Deux
Mondes," which he had found upon the table.
" Well, Miss Grey," said he, rising courteously. " It is
time I should fulfill my promise to Mrs. Berry, and come to
see what you are about, for I find you under suspicious cir-
cumstances already. However, I exercise a kindly consider-
ation. Madame Rosalie (isn't that her name ?) informed me
you were ' L&-haut, avec ce vieux Dn Valj and instead ol
ii
THE WOOING
allowing her to recall you I have sat here impatiently fot
upward of half an hour."
" You are indeed very good." replied Maggie, laying down
a roll of music. " But you should have let Rosalie come for
me. I have not been playing for some time, only listening to
poor Monsieur Du Val talking, and he his very cross to-day."
"And Mrs. Berry has been away how long?"
" Three days."
" Three whole days ! Have you been alone all this time ?
No visit from your disheveled friend ? "
" Oh no. I do not think he knows Mrs. Berry has gone,
and then Rosalie would not let him in. She says he is a
vaurien.
" She was quite gracipus to me, just now."
" Oh ! you are an English monsieur, ' tres comme ilfauf
Rosalie thinks highly of Lord Torchester and you."
For which opinion Rosalie had solid reason of which Mag-
gie was aware.
" So ou are not very sorry to be left behind ? "
" Not at all. Yet I should like to see Fontainebleau, but
not with the baron and baroness or the Salters."
" And what do you do with yourself all day ? do you
never go out ? "
"No; I am half afraid. And, you see, I have no lady
friends ; for I do not like the people Mrs. Berry does, and I
don't think they like me. However, I must go out to-morrow,
for I have some shopping to do and a message for the Mac-
laggan."
" ' The Maclaggan ! ' Was that the ferociously red-faced
man in ' the garb of old Gaul ' I saw you talking to at the
ball the ball par excellence, for it was very delightful "
" Yes, indeed," cried Maggie, heartily, " I shall never forget
it. I suppose I shall never see the like again," and she half
sighed.
" You don't know what destiny has in store for you, Miss
Grey."
" Nothing very splendid, I imagine."
" Pray who reads this ? " holding up the Revue. " Does
Mrs. Berry ? "
" No ; M. Du Val sometimes lends me an old number.
There are some very learned things which I don't read in it ;
but the articles on Art are charming ; it is like acquiring a
new sense to read them."
And then their pleasant talk flowed on toward Italy and
THE WOOING O'T. 163
the East, and made another topic, to all of which the most
severely proper judge might have listened without a frown.
Yet there was a wonderful charm in it all. To Trafford the
pleasure of a listener so freshly intelligent, so naively sensi-
ble : to Maggie the sense of companionship, so far beyond
her brightest day dreams ; all miserable conventional distinc-
tions forgotten in the delightful tranquil intercourse ; noth-
ing to agitate ; yet a subtle delicious consciousness of being
appreciated and liked, toning mind and heart and expression
to melodious pitch seldom reached and never maintained.
At last Trafford glanced at the clock, and then consulting
his watch, and uttered an exclamation of surprise.
" I have paid you an unconscionable visit, Miss Grey and
must depart. Now what will you do with yourself all
the long evening, ? "
" I shall be neither idle nor wear} 7 ; and if I only couldfeel
sure that Rosalie would not go I should be quite contented ;
but I am silly enough to be just a little frightened at being
left all alone."
" You must not be left alone," said Trafford, taking the
hand she held out, and holding it gently while he spoke. " I
will try my influence with Rosalie. I do not like to think of
your being alone, and conjuring up all sorts of terrors, as I
dare say you would when night closed in ; that old woman
shall not leave you. By the way, I have a quantity of English
magazines and reviews ; I'll send some over to you to-morrow,
if you would care to see them."
" I should indeed. I am sure you are very good, and I
shall be quite grateful if you would speak to Rosalie. She is
kind enough, but so fond of going out."
" Soyez tranquil, she shall not to-night. Will that content
you?" continued Trafford, feeling desperately inclined to
resume his seat and mount guard till Rosalie's peregrinations
were over ; but it would not do, so, with a bow and an " Au
revoir, then, Miss Grey," he left the room.
Maggie did not know what magic he had exercised over
Rosalie, but that excellent female entered, a fevr minutes
after his departure, in a very genial mood. " Tiens done ma
petite demoiselle, you have eaten a mere nothing to-day. Let
me bring you a cup of cafe au lait and an oeuf a la coque. You
may rest tranquil ; as you are good enough to value the pro-
tection of your old Rosalie! she will not quit you. It is a
beau garcon of an Englishman, a good heart; none of your
brigands of artists, with evil tongues and empty pockets."
164 THE WOOING O'T.
And Maggie did rest very tranquilly, and worked till late
to make up for the delightful hour or two she had stolen from
her duties to Mrs. Berry.
I don't think Trafford felt quite so quiet and comfortable.
At all events he had more exciting occupation, for, after
dressing and snatching a hasty meal at Meurice's, he looked
in at the Opera, and from thence escorted Madame De
Beaumanoir to a soiree at the hotel of a Legitimist countess,
and finally accompanied the marquise to her own abode. There
they had a very perfect little tete-a-tete supper, whereat
Trafford was at once distrait, audacious, and altogether
charming ; at least Madame De Beaumanoir had seldom felt
any influence so strongly before. But the long exciting day
was over at last ; and when Trafford's fiacre deposited him at
the gate of his hotel he felt too feverish to sleep, and lighting
a cigar, he strolled along the Champs Elyse'es, paused for
some time at the corner of a street half way down, then,
with a muttered exclamation about " idiotic folly," threw
away the end of his cigar, and walked briskly back.
The next morning brought Maggie a goodly package of
books: the "Westminister Review," " Fraser," "Black-
wood," and several monthly numbers of Household Words,"
not as yet merged in " All the Year Round," quite a
treasure trove ; and with them a little note, for an answer to
which " le valet de ce brave Monsieur Trafford was waiting."
It was very short, and merely said :
" I hope you will find some help to shorten the hours of
your imprisonment in what I send. Pray, let me know if
Rosalie deserted her post or not, last night. Yours very
truly, G. TRAFFORD."
Maggie felt quite excited at the receipt of such a wealth of
literature, and a little flutter at having to reply to so very
accomplished a personage ; this feeling, however, she shook
off, and hastily wrote :
" Your delightful books, will turn my imprisonment into
recreation. Rosalie kept her post so faithfully and pleasantly
that I begin to think you a beneficent fairy godfather.
With many thanks,
" Yours truly,
" MAGGIE GREY."
THE WOOING O'T. 165
And then she sat speedily about her shopping, the message
to the Maclaggan, and her needlework, to earn a long free
evening for reading ; the usual demand for a note on her
own account suggested a letter to her uncle's wife, from whom
she had not heard for a long time. It was not long or full of
details, yet it took some time to indite ; she wished not to
send a cold barren letter, yet she must avoid anything like
boasting. Moreover, a strong feeling of uncertainty induced
her to suggest that although Mrs. Berry was very kind it was
not improbable she might marry, in which case Maggie would
certainly be sent adrift. " However," she concluded, " I think
I should be quite able to earn my own bread now, for I have
learned much since I saw you." And so, having sat up much
later than the drowsy Rosalie, Maggie went to bed, unusually
and unreasonably happy.
" It would be hard indeed if we did not sometimes feel
unreasonably happy as well as unreasonably miserable. Why
is the one condition generally considered a delusion, and the
other a presentiment ? Is it that pleasure is so rich a boon
that we grudge each other even a momentary possession of
it ? or that miserly memory holds only the fulfillment of the
presentiment, and lets the realization of the illusion slip ?
However, no such questions disturbed Maggie, who slept
soundly, and woke from a dream of the ball to a glorious
sunshiny morning and an unspoken conviction that Trafford
would pay her a visit in the course of the day.
And so he did and three or four more, in the course of
the next ten days.
Probably, Maggie ought to have known instinctively that it
was a breach of the proprieties to receive a man young,
agreeable, and of higher rank than herself in tete-a-tete
visit. But, in truth, les conveniences were little studied in Mag-
gie's world ; every one there thought only of what was pleasant or
profitable ; from a real impropriety no one would have shrunk
more quickly than our young heroine, but of lady-like pru-
deries she knew nothing. As to Trafford, his eyes were
tolerably wide open to most of the aspects of thihgs ; never-
theless, as he told himself, Maggie's extreme obscurity was
her shield, and having promised Mrs. Berry to look after her
pretty protegee, who ought never to have been left alone with
that old French-woman, he could not neglect the self-imposed
duty. And well Trafford knew he was throwing dust into
his mind's eye that while he was persuading himself that he
only waited Mrs. Berry's return to bid adieu to Paris, he
166 THE WOOING OT.
dared not avow, even in thought, how ardently he wished
that return might be delayed. And so, priding himself on
keeping his visits to an average of one every second day, he
floated on in a sort of temporary elysium, so tranquil, so
innocent in its enjoyment, that it was impossible to think that
pain or grief could arise from its indulgence.
In these long discursive conversations Trafford learned
much, all, of Maggie's simple life. Her happy childhood
with her fondly-loved mother the sweet, early youth, so soon
clouded over the dark days of her removal to Beverly
Street, the kindness and simplicity of Uncle Grey the
hated tyranny of her aunt, the short interval of dear Cousin
John's championship all were placed vividly before the
polished favorite of London society, who listened absorbed.
For all was told so naturally, so truthfully, with such an utter
unconsciousness of effect, that a photograph of another life,
another world, seemed unrolled before him. Maggie, when
speaking of her mother, and describing the wonderful sense
of safety and repose when returned to her after the day's
study, was quite regardless of the large tears that slowly
gathered in her eyes, welled over, hung on a moment to her
long lashes, ajid then splashed suddenly on her work, causing
her to look up with sudden surprise and apology to her
auditor, whose great tact and strong self-control enabled him
so to listen, to question, and to reply as never once to startle
the " tassel gentle " that discoursed such excellent music to
his ears.
" She is safe enough ; she is so calm, so unembarrassed,
and these hours are worth the risk of a few future heartaches,"
thought Trafford, as each visit grew longer than the last, and
Maggie's constant occupation in needlework of some kind,
gave him frequent opportunities of learning her face, with its
ever}' change of expression, every turn and attitude of the
lithe, softly rounded figure, off by heart, unnoticed by her.
And Maggie, little thinking of the influence working a
mighty though unrecognized change within her, began to be
anxious for Mrs. Berry's return. The widow had never once
written since she left, and she was so heedless of everything
save her own pleasure, that it was quite possible she might
go on to Germany, or Switzerland, with small consideration
for Maggie's position. Moreover, the amount of money
originally left was very homeopathic, and Maggie feared be-
ing reduced to a still lower ebb. Under these circumstances,
it was rather a relief to receive an invitation to spend the next
THE WOOING OT. 167
evening with Mrs. Maclaggan she might know something of
Mrs. Berry. It was one of Trafford's non-visiting days, and
Maggie felt so sure of his coining the next, that she felt almost
inclined to write him and put him off, and Mrs. Maclaggan
named the early hour of seven for tea, and Trafford seldom
took his leave till after that hour, when he generally went to
dine with some acquaintances, if not with Madame De Beau-
manoir, whose good graces he continued sedulously to culti-
vate. But on reflection, Maggie shrank from treating his
visits as an established fact, and left the morrow to chance.
It had been a warm, almost a sultry day ; but toward sun-
down the clouds broke in a sudden, heavy shower, and a soft
breeze sprang up, inexpressibly refreshing. Maggie prepared
for her walk to Mrs. Maclaggan's not a little disappointed
at the non-appearance of Trafford, who for the first time had
dropped out of his routine.
" Well, Rosalie, you have been very good, staying in so
much for me. You might go out this evening, as I shall be
away ; but, dear, good Rosalie, pray do not stay beyond ten.
I shall be miserable if I find you still away when I return."
"Ah, mademoiselle, I will take the key with me; then I'll
be sure to come back, for I know you cannot get in without
me."
" Do, Rosalie, if it insures your return."
On reaching the Rue de la Madeleine, great was Maggie's
dismay to find a note with the conceirge, informing her that
Mrs. Maclaggan was very sorry, but they had been presented
with a box at the Franchise for that evening. Such an unu-
sual piece of luck they really could not forego, and must beg
Miss Grey to excuse them, and give them the pleasure of her
company to-morrow night, instead."
Poor Maggie hastened back as quickly as she could, hop-
ing to arrive before Rosalie's departure. As she approached
the corner of the Rue M , she perceived Trafford com-
ing toward her.
" Miss Grey I am quite relieved to meet you ;, for I have
just heard with dismay that Mademoiselle and Rosalie ' sont
toutes sortie; 1 I really began to think that you had escaped
my espoinage after all."
" Then Rosalie is gone ? How annoying ! " And in a few
minutes Maggie told her difficulties. " You see she has the
key, and I really do not know what to do."
Trafford hesitated for an instant, and then a light as of
great anticipated delighted cam into his eyes.
s6S THE WOOING CPT.
" It is really a predicament," he said, laughing. " 2 wai
prevented from calling by the unexpected appearance of some
Indian friends en route from Marseilles to London. Sup-
pose, as it is a charming evening, we drive out to the Bois,
take a stroll under the trees, and return when you think
Rosalie and the key is available ? You will trust yourself
with me, will you not, as you were good enough to say you
considered me a sort of godfather."
" I am not quite sure about it," said Maggie, hesitating
reluctantly ; " but it would be delightful ! And I really do
not know where to go."
" It is our only course," said Trafford with the most tren-
chant decision ; and beckoning to a fiacre he had already
hailed, Maggie found herself en route before she had quite
made up her mind to "yes" or "no."
The drive to the Bois was very refreshing ; but Maggie felt
half-frightened at the arrangement. There was something
alarming in her complete freedom in the extraordinary com-
panionship that had sprung up between Trafford and herself ;
and though this sudden and surprising, not to say delightful,
proposition of his, did not seem absolutely wrong, it neverthe-
less roused her to some consciousness of the wonderful pre-
ference which he showed for her society ; as to hesitating to
" trust herself with him," a shadow of doubt never crossed
her mind, and the result of her hasty, tangled reflection was
some conclusion as this : " Well, right or wrong, I shall never
have a chance of anything so pleasant again, so I shall enjoy
myself as much as I can ; " and Trafford, who much more
rapidly and strongly came to the same conclusion, looked
into her eyes with a pleasant smile, and seeing that her slight
embarrassment was clearing away, said gayly :
" I believe Rosalie is a very judicious person ; but for her
rapid action, I fear I should have been so stupid as not to
think of a little expedition which you really must require after
your imprisonment. When does Mrs. Berry return ? "
" I have not an idea she has never once written since she
left. I only hope she has not gone on to Switzerland or any-
where without letting me know."
" By Jove ! that would be a predicament ! You don't think
she will ? "
" Well, no. I don't think she has clothes enough."
" Suppose she did, what would you do ? " asked Trafford,
more alive to the uncertainties of Maggie's position than she
was herself.
THE WOOING ffT. 163
" I hardly know. I should manage to get back to Uncle
Grey somehow."
Nothing but the strongest conviction that he must not drift
into any entanglement, either for his own or his companion's
sake, kept Trafford silent ; but an idea suggested by words
so descriptive of her forlornness presented itself of taking
charge of her utterly away from all conventionality and
interference of long summer evenings of tranquil, tender
companionship of seeing those sweet, truthful eyes filled
with the restfulness of sympathy, security, and affection. A
lightning glimpse of such a possible heaven shivered through
him with so wild an intensity that he was startled and warned
by this revelation of his own feelings, and resolved to hold
the reins of his self-control with a firm hand ; so he only said :
" Back to that amiable aunt of yours, of whom you gave me
such a graphic description ? Well, I must say it would have
been better to have accepted poor Torchester."
" No ! no ! " replied Maggie, laughing and shaking her
head. " I can escape from my aunt, but not from a hus-
band.'-'
" Do you know I had a letter from Tor to-day, and after a
lot about Mount Trafford and Scotland, and wanting me to
join him there, he inquires in a postscript if you are still in
Paris and if I ever see you ; a very significant fact, when a
man reserves the magic name for a postscript."
" Is it ? " said Maggie. " I wish I might send my kind
regards to him, for I do like him ; but I suppose it would not
do."
"Certainly not, unless you wish him back within twenty
four hours after receiving your message."
" Indeed I do not ! ungrateful though it is to say so, for I
owe all my pleasant days in Paris to him and to you," with
a shy glance at her companion. " The last time indeed the
only time I went out to drive was with Lord Torchester."
" Then I hope you don't find this a disagreeable way of
waiting for Rosalie and the key ? "
" Disagreeable ! It is delightful ! "
" Even although minus Torchester ? "
" Perhaps you would like him to be here ? " said Maggie,
with some dexterity, but only thinking of Trafford's earnest
desire to frustrate his cousin's marriage with herself."
" God forbid ! " returned Trafford, piously ; and Maggie
laughed so gayly and frankly that Trafford felt for the
moment as if the sweet healthy breath of her laughter dis-
170 THE WOOING O'T.
persed the sultry passion cloud lowering over his senses.
" Come, Miss Grey," said he, " you have been disappointed
of your tea or coffee, and must want some. There is a capi-
tal cafe or restaurant somewhere about here, I know ; let us
go and have some tea, or ice, or something."
" Oh, no ! not for me," cried Maggie, a little appalled at
such a project. " I don't want anything."
" Well, I am mundane enough to want some dinner, and,"
looking at his watch, " it is now a quarter to eight. When
can you venture back ? "
" Not before ten I am afraid/' replied Maggie apologeti-
cally.
Trafford smiled. " Considering her erratic habits we must
give Rosalie half an hour's law. I wish to Heaven you had
said eleven," and without further hesitation, Trafford leant
over the front of the carriage and gave some directions to the
driver who had brought them to the Bois by a quiet side-road
instead of the principal approach. " We have quite time
enough to refresh, and take a stroll under the trees to the
lake," said Trafford, resuming his seat, " before ten and
then half an hour more will see us at the Rue M ."
Maggie, feeling that the guidance of the next two hours
had quite passed out of her hands, smiled assent, and they
speedily alighted at the Cafe de Madrid. It was a pleasant
repast. For Trafford, anxious to keep his fair guest as tran-
quil as possible, exerted himself to the utmost to amuse her,
and nothing could be more perfect and less disturbing than
his gay kindly gallantry.
The idea of ice and wafers, or cafe and petit pain at that
hour was absurd. No, Miss Grey must share his cold fowl
and mayonnaise of lobster, and the Johannisberg, which he
declared to be his favorite wine. And Maggie thoroughly
enjoyed it all. The room they occupied was sweet and pretty
with flowers, and the windows opened on a balcony overhang-
ing the fresh green foliage of the Bois. It was quiet, too,
after the din of Paris, and altogether the hour they spent there
was very happy. The unspoken consciousness both felt that
there was small chance of enjoying a repetition of it lent a
peculiar charm to every circumstance. Never in the most
brilliant society did Trafford feel the same magic which now
seemed to inspire him. Could he have talked half so well at
Madame de Beaumanoir's where, in truth, he was at that
moment due his reputation as a conversationalist would
have been made.
THE WOOING O"T, 171
" Well, Miss Grey, as you positively decline another bottle
of Johannisberg, let us start on our stroll to the lake," and so
they sallied forth under the trees, beginning to be dim and
dewy with the closing night.
Leisurely, and often silently, they walked along, Trafford
at times rousing himself to speak of distant scenes, that he
might, in some measure, break the spell of the present. At
length they reached the lake, where the last of the sunset
glow was reflected. It was very sweet and still, and Maggie
involuntarily stretched out her arms toward it, and exclaimed
in a low tone, " How delicious ! What a sense of rest there
is here ! "
" Yes ! delicious," murmured Trafford half to himself, and
standing a little behind her as she advanced to the water's
edge. He was quite silent for some time while his compan-
ion wandered a little further from him, intent on examining;
the place so far as the fading light would permit.
" Ought we not to go back now ? " asked Maggie, when he
joined her.
" Yes, I suppose so, if you insist on returning by half-past
ten."
"Of course I must. But stay; let me look round once
more. It is curious, I feel as if I should never see this place
again as if some change was coming some grief or pain."
" Do you ? " said Trafford, looking into her eyes with a
strange expression in his own which she could not make out.
" You are tired and nervous : let me give you my arm, for it
grows dark." And without waiting a reply, he drew her arm
through his, and they regained the cafe rather silently.
Their drive back was less exhilarating than their going;
forth ; nevertheless Trafford exerted himself to talk in a most
praiseworthy manner, considering the tumult of his thoughts.
As they approached the Rue M he stopped the carriage
and dismissed it. " I shall not go with you to the door," he
said, " for it is not at all necessary to inform the excellent
Rosalie of all your proceedings, but I shall , stay in the
Champs Elysees till I see a light in the salon, for I shall then
know you are safe."
" Good-night, then, and thank you very much for all your
kindness," said Maggie, greatly moved by his consideration
for her, and also by the sudden enlightenment which his
delicate warning respecting Rosalie conveyed as to the serious
sort of escapade she had just committed.
" Good-night ! good-night ! " repeated Trafford, looking
THE WOOING O'T.
intently into her eyes and holding her hand, forgetful that he
did so, till the sudden glow of color in her cheek recalled
him, and he released her.
CHAPTER XV.
THE succeeding day was the strangest Maggie Grey had
ever passed. Do what she would occupy herself how she
might, and she strove dilligently by every species of employ-
ment to divert her thoughts she could not forget Trafford^'s
haunting gaze; it came between her books, her music,
even in her attempt to assist Rosalie in some necessary
cleaning and dusting, which that valuable personage per-
formed in a very sketchy style. It was always there. She
was greatly and painfully disturbed. What could it all mean ?
It was impossible that a man like Trafford could have fallen
In love with her. Yet how else could she interpret the
language of his eyes ? Incredible as it may seem, a suspicion
of such a state of things never crossed her mind before. He
was so evidently and candidly anxious to wean his cousin
from her, so perfectly conscious of the great distance between
them, that she never dreamed of such a possibility. And
now that pleasant easy entercourse which she had so much
enjoyed was at an end ; right or wrong in her conjectures, she
felt she could never be at home with him again. And how
much she lost ! For she never for a second deluded herself
into supposing there could be any gain to her in such a
condition of things. Yet she did hope Mr. Trafford would
not go quite away without saying good-by to her ; for that he
would trifle with her, or with his own feelings, or do any one
thing unworthy a true-hearted English gentleman, never
entered into her calculation of possibilities. Yet she almost
wished she had not accompanied him on that delightful
excursion. Almost : but not altogether ; it was too much
philosophy to deny the non-existence of so delicious a
reminiscence. Yet she hated the shadow of a concealment,
and the slight warning bestowed by Trafford was magnified
by her sensitive nature into an importance far beyond its
real value. How earnestly she hoped he would not call ; she
felt it would be impossible to meet him alone. The charm,
the frank, unembarrassed companionship of their intercourse
was gone, and instead, Confusion, pain, and certain separation.
THE WOOING O'T. 173
In the midst of these distressing thoughts came some
English newspapers, and a note from their object :
" Just send me a line to say if Rosalie is at her post, and
if all's well. I am writing to Torchester, but shall not send
him your message. Any news of Mrs. Berry ? "
This was a relief. He was not coming ; nor yet was she
neglected ; besides, there was a return to the original tone
of their intercourse in these few lines. It was no small
effort to reply ; but she managed after some false starts to
write, " Many thanks all is well Rosalie at her post and
no news of Mrs. Berry."
As evening closed in, and there was really nothing to do
but to sit down and read, Rosalie suggested some refresh-
ment.
" Mademoiselle has really had un jour matgre, and for
what ? It could do her no good could not be reckoned in
any way and she had been busy bon Dieu ! busier than
mademoiselle had ever been before."
So Maggie thought a cup of tea would be refreshing, and
proceeded to make it herself. She was half-through the
second, and trying hard to read and understand a leading
article in the Times, when a loud ring was heard. On the
door being opened, a general confusion of voices became
audible Mrs. Berry's sounding over all, something of a
journey, and to-morrow, an invitation to come in, and refusal
in the count's voice. And then, with a rustling of silks, and
a running commentary to Rosalie, Mrs. Berry entered, in
brilliant spirits and high good-humor.
Maggie was truly and unaffectedly glad to see her, and
Mrs. Berry felt the sincerity of her welcome.
" Well, child, I believe you do like me, after all ; but what
a ghost you look ! I never saw you look so bad. And so
Lord Torchester has not come back, after all ? Never mind !
What have you got there tea ? Do get me a cup ; and
Rosalie, run to the restaurant and fetch me a little plat or
some galantine. I am as hungry as a hawk ! Well, Maggie,
we have had a good time, I can tell you ; I never had such
a delightful outing in all my life. The count he joined us
after a few days quite a new creature to what he was before
we left so gay, and lively, and elegant and the fuss he
made about me ! I'm sure it nearly drove Selina Salterwild !
Now, to-morrow will be Wednesday, and every one is coming,
so you must get flowers and things, and look your best, for
the count is going to bring a friend of his, a Russian prince.
174 THE WOOING ffT.
my dear ! And Spencer Smith is coming for the first time,
and I shouldn't wonder if he fell in love with you for of a!!
the soft young fellows I ever met, he is the softest, and s
conceited " etc., etc. And Mrs. Berry continued to pour
forth her plans, projects, and adventures, till she declared ii
was time to retire, " for I am just dead beat, my dear."
While Mrs. Berry was preparing for repose, Geoffrey
Trafford slowly and rather reluctantly prepared for a visit to
Madame De Beaumanoir.
He had a billet from her in the morning demanding the
reason of his non-appearance the night before, and informing
him that she was suffering from mal de tete and exhaustion of
spirits ; that her doors were closed to every one, nevertheless
that she would give him an opportunity of explaining himself
at nine o'clock that evening.
La marquise received him in her boudoir, which opened on
a garden, and was as luxurious and recherche as the most
fantastic imagination and the most unlimited self-indulgence
could desire. Madame herself, in a robe de chambre of softest
white muslin and Malines lace, with cerise ribbons and sash,
and a fillet of the same holding back the studiously disordered
masses of her black hair, was lying on a sofa in an attitude of
languor and depression. She half rose to receive him, and
then leaning back again, allowed a delicate morsel of an
embroidered cerise slipper to appear beneath her robe.
Trafford kissed the fair and jeweled hand extended to him,
with deep respect. " And what evil genius has dared to
attack a spirit so bright and so strong as yours, belle amie ? "
Madame De Beaumanoir smiled, a somewhat peculiar smile,
but did not reply for a moment. " Ring, dear friend," she said.
On the immediate appearance of a valet, she ordered Iights 5
whereupon the man lit up all the bougies in the apartment.
and they were legion. Bougies in the hands of gold cupicls
and Dresden shepherdesses, bronze negroes, and Ninevite
dancing-girls, in glass girandoles, and oxidized silver sconces,
till the chamber was filled with a mild radiance neither oil
nor gas could produce. " It is more cheerful," said the
marquise, re-settling herself on the sofa as the servant left
the room. " And now, Trafford, why did you desert us yes-
terday ? "
Trafford was prepared for this question.,
" You are very good to notice my absence ; but I was a
victim to family claims. A friend of mine arriving on his
THE WOOING VT. 175
way from India to London, found me out, and I could not
get rid of him till too late for your dinner-hour; and as I
knew that your invitation was general, and also that there
was small chance of seeing you alone, I was not so careful to
present myself as I should otherwise have been."
" No, I suppose not," said Madame De Beaumanoir, list-
lessly. " However, we were later than usual, for / too was
out and detained ; but it is passed. Now, monsieur, I hear
you are about to leave Paris is this true ? "
" I have been about to leave Paris for nearly three weeks,
and am still here, and still about to leave."
" It is difficult then this departure ? "
" Desperately difficult," he replied, with unmistakable sin-
cerity.
Madame De Beaumanoir rose from her seat, swept slowly
across the room to an open window, and leant against the
side of it, looking forth into tlie fragrant gardens beneath for
a few moments, and then returning, paused opposite her guest
where he sat in the full light of the wax tapers.
" TrafTord," she said, her dark, lustrous eyes looking full
into his, " I have found k mot de Tenigme the secret of your
coldness, your pre-occupation, the spell which holds you back
from reciprocating the tender friendship my soul offers to
yours. You love, Trafford ! and though the object of your
love is beneath you in rank and station, you are, perhaps,
experiencing the awful absorption of a great passion. Is it
not so, mon ami i "
Trafford was utterly astonished by Madame De Beau-
manoir's unexpected attack, but not the less firmly resolved
that she should extract nothing from him to confirm her sus-
picions.
" Pray complete my surprise, very dear lady, by naming
this object of my great passion," and he laughed pleasantly.
" No, I cannot tell you her name, but I will describe her,
She is an English-looking child, with the colorless gray eye
of your nation, and brown hair; with dewy, rosy lips,
parted slightly by the happy smile of youth, and rounded
cheek, fresh with the peachy softness of youth's unapproach-
able tint."
" Whom can you mean ? " said Trafford, gazing at her as-
tonished, yet gathering himself up to be ready for the next
coup.
" I mean the girl who was sitting by you as you drove
through the Barriere de PEtoile last evening, traitrel" cried
176 THE WOOING O'T.
the marquise, hurling the term " ertiart " at him with dra
matic force.
" I am no traitor, madame," said Trafford, carelessly.
" You have indeed quite solved the enigma," he continued,
smiling.
" The English child you mention is a young pensionaire,
whose people made me promise I would visit and show some
kindness to her ; so being disengaged last night I thought
it a good opportunity to take her to the Bois de Bou-
logne."
His easy, unembarrassed manner somewhat disarmed Ma-
dame De Beaumanoir. " Who is she then ? "
" Dear lady, whether she be Brown, Jones or Robinson, to
you she would be equally unknown."
" Bon Dieux ? " cried the marquise. " What a people I
To trust a young girl thus in the hands of men such as
you."
" Why not ? " asked Trafford. " We are rational, civilized
men not wild beasts."
" There is a basis of the bete in most of you, nevertheless ;
and, Trafford, is there no liason between this fair child and
yourself ? "
" Not a shadow of such a thing, madame," he replied,
looking straight into her eyes.
" I cannot doubt you : and if so, may I not be of use to
your young friend ? " she said insinuatingly. " I shall be
happy to take her out on her free days."
" What a deep, handsome devil of a woman," thought
Trafford. " Ah ! madame," he said aloud, " your impulses
are all generosity and goodness ; but my little friend is on the
point of returning to England, therefore "
" Ah ! " said the marquise a long-drawn " Ah ! " " And
monsieur is about to leave Paris ? "
" There is no connection between our movements," re-
turned Trafford, laughing merrily. " I may see her once
more before leaving, but after, I suppose, nothing is so im-
probable as that our roads should cross."
" There is truth in your voice, Trafford," said Madame De
Beaumanoir, and she nearly meant it. " Pardon, if the sin-
cerity of my friendship seems intrusive, but I know so well
the enormous importance a man's liasons possess. Strive,
dear friend," she continued in a highly moral tone, " to select
for confidants and sympathizers women whose social rank
and high character place their disinterestedness beyond ques-
THE WOOING O'T. 177
tion ; and, notwithstanding the moral confusion existing in
your national habits, avoid the impropriety of being seen (in
broad daylight) with obscure unmarried females." Here she
paused abruptly, and pressing her handkerchief to her eyes
fray back on her sofa and abandoned one hand to Trafford,
murmuring broken sentences touching her " desolated heart,"
" the tender sympathies of a high-souled friendship," and
" the exhaustion which follows painful excitement."
Trafford, as in duty bound, pressed the fair hand in both
of his and even kissed it, while he uttered correct phrases
expressive of gratitude and devotion, inwardly speculating,
" why the deuce she did not insist on hearing the name of his
companion of the evening before." And Madame la Mar-
quise, as she softly returned the pressure of his hand, re-
flected, " He does not volunteer the name, and there would
be no use in asking it. There's mischief somewhere ; and
I'll find it out, though a man so glacial is scarce worth this
trouble." At this critical point of the interview, a low and
submissive tap at the door made itself heard. Trafford re-
leased madame's hand, and madame sat straight up in a mo-
ment.
" Entrez" she cried, whereupon entered M. le mart, who
stood looking very properly ashamed of his own temerity as
he perceived Trafford.
" A thousands pardons, chere ami. I understood you were
suffering, and positively not visible to any one. I therefore
came to make ray inquiries in person."
" You are very good chere ami, " returned madame la mar-
quise, sweetly smiling. " I was pas visible, but on receiving
monsieur's name, knowing what is due to a distinguished
stranger not quite familiar with our customs, I admitted him.
Nay, sit down, chere ami, and take a cup of coffee with us.
You can better entertain monsieur than I can."
The conversation soon turned toward caterpillars and cen-
tipedes, and on the first available break Trafford took his
leave.
Instead of presenting himself at any of the various salons
of which he possessed the entree Trafford strolled moodily
back to his hotel in deep and unpleasant thought.
" By what devil's cunning did that keen eyed sentimentaliz-
ing Frenchwoman divine his state of mind ? Who would have
dreamed of her having been afloat at that time and coming
across us ? If I have been the means of drawing the malic-
ious eyes of that woman on Maggie sweetest, simplest
is
178 THE WOOING O'T.
Maggie ! I shall never forgive myself ; but I think I have
disarmed her. Now ttye best thing for Maggie and myself is
to run off to England f r anywhere as fast as I can. Madame
la Marquise is not far wrong. I cou-ld not have imagined I
should have been such an idiot. I think, however, I have
sense enough left not to let this pleasant folly deepen into a
grande passion ; it's nothing like that; nevertheless what a
wrench it will be to go ! " and Trafford crushed his cigar
between his teeth as he thought. One thing he was firmly
resolved upon, not to quit Paris without one private interview
with Miss Grey, to entreat her to leave Mrs. Berry, to accept
Lady Torchester's offer of friendship and assistance ; though
how this was to be brought about he did not very well see.
But to depart without testifying some interest in her, without
knowing something of her plans, would be impossible. His
advice too might be of use. Yes, he would see her just once
more alone, and then stamp the whole thing out of his mind.
He had been hit before and had got over it, and so he should
again, only this was somehow not quite like his other exper-
iences ; there was such a wonderful yearning tenderness well-
ing up in his heart for that lonely little girl ; who yet had so
much of strength in the honest womanly pride underlying
her character. " Lemoine, " said Trafford to his servant,
throwing himself into an easy chair, " get my things together
to-morrow, pay up all the bills, and be ready for a start at any
moment. I am going to England, but have not decided what
day. Give me writing materials, open the window, and leave
me. Stay," as the man was going, "find out for me to-morrow
morning if Mrs. Berry has returned."
He opened his portfolio, and took out Maggie's little note
of that morning; he laid it before him, and, muttering " Not
a syllable too much not the smallest opening for a reply or
a visit," leant his elbows on the table and his head on his
hands for a minute or two looking intently on the morsel of
writing, then very quietly and deliberately tore it into the
smallest fragments, lit a fresh cigar, and, drawing the ink
toward him, commenced a letter with " My dear Bolton."
He wrote long and closely, sometimes pausing to think
with slightly knit brow. It was the most purposelike and
satisfactory letter the family solicitor had ever received from
his favorite Trafford. It dealt clearly and definitely with the
question of his future plans, with his special views of life and
ambition ; it spoke of a possible future political career, of the
prosecution of his profession, and there was not one syllable
THE WOOING &T. 179
of witty cynicism in it from beginning to end. Dry and com-
monsensical as it read, Bolton would have been a little
startled could he have known throughout it Trafford had
fought hard against an almost overpowering inclination to lie
back in his chair and live over again the delicious moments
of the evening before, to recall the fascination that crept over
him as he watched the dawning look, half wonder, half con-
sciousness, in a pair of soft eyes into which he had no busi-
ness whatever to look ! but he did fight the battle, sternly and
successfully so finished his letter. Then he descended to
the smoking-room, and enjoyed a long rambling discussion
with some American gentlemen on turfy, political, mercantile,
and dramatic subjects, and so kept thought at bay.
Mrs. Berry appeared the next morning like a giant
refreshed, and was unusually cordial to Maggie, who quite
cheered up under this encouragement. It was so natural
so like the old times (a full fornight old) between which and
the present a great gulf had opened to discuss dress, conv
missariat, and contrivances how to save a sou while they
expended a soveriegn, that she began to think she had been
making a great fool of herself in attributing so much mean-
ing to Trafford's looks and tones. " I must have been
growing morbid and ridiculous," she thought, " to dwell
upon what was no doubt kindly politeness, and now all
things will return to their old pleasant footing, and I shall see
him without embarrassment in the presence of others." So
the day passed cheerfully except that Maggie was a little
startled on entering the salon in the afternoon to find M. De
Bragance seated there as if quite at home. Mrs. Berry was
in her room, but did not seem the least surprised at Maggie's
announcement, but dispatched her with Rosalie to a florist's
at some distance to procure plants and boquets, and Maggie
did not feel quite so comfortable again.
Mrs. Berry's reception was well attended that evening, all
the usual set were present, and in addition Mr. Spencer
Smith, a small, pale, " yellow-haired laddie," with" a faint dust-
colored mustache, imperceptible but for his constant
strokings.
He had, of course, a proper amount of rings and studs and
an eye-glass, and seemed inclined to be au petits soins with
Miss Maclaggan. The promised Russian Prince was duly pro-
duced ; he proved to be a small and extremely well-preserved
specimen of the race somewhat dried up in the process, and
with a complexion suggestive of orange peel, rep pepper, and
i8o THE WOOING OT.
caviare. However, he wore several orders, took snuff with
a courtly air, and told Mrs. Berry that she reminded him
strongly of the Princess Zavadoskoi a charming creature,
now expiating political and other sins in Siberia."
" Gracious ! you don't say so ? " was Mrs. Berry's commen-
tary. " I hope no one will transport me there."
" 'Tis for madame to transport, not to be transported,"
replied Mons. le Prince, with a smile, a shrug, and an artisti-
cally administered pinch of snuff.
Maggie made tea and looked on amused. She, from some
undefined reason, had done her best to look well. She had
ironed out her best white muslin, and remade the blue bows.
She had tied a blue ribbon through her hair, and piled the
soft, nut-brown tresses over it very becomingly, and, as she
sat behind her tea-pot, more than once wondered to herself if
Mr. Trafford would come, or if he would know that Mrs.
Berry had a reception ; but how could he know ? Even, while
she mooted the question, she saw him through the curtained
doorway, in the sa/on, bending to speak to Miss Salter. He
conversed with her some little time, and then talked with the
prince, whom he seemed to have known previously, and so
worked his way to the tea-table, which was nearly deserted.
Maggie was now quite prepared to meet him, and showed no
sign beyond the faintest increase of color. She fancied he
looked 'a little haggard, and his eyes more deeply set than
ever; but how different was his look and bearing from the
others ! Could it be possible that only the clay before yester-
day she was away driving and dining with him alone ! What
ages ago that seemed ?
Trafford, however, greeted her in the most charmingly easy,
friendly tone possible, congratulated her on the return of
Mrs. Berry, inquired for Rosalie, remarked upon the Prince,
whom he had met at Teheran, and asked what she thought of
certain articles in the " Westminister." Their expedition to
the Bois de Boulogne seemed to have passed utterly out of
his memory. How delighted and grateful Maggie felt how
bright and animated she grew, with the feeling of complete
relief ! Yes, she had quite mistaken him, and he should never
know what a conceited little goose she had been.
But Trafford did not stay long beside her ; he went and
came, and made himself generally agreeable, nevertheless
conveying to Maggie a quiet happy sense of sympathy. Once
he disturbed her a little by asking, " Anything settled between
THE WOOING O'T. 181
your friend and De Bragance ? It strikes me they understand
each other."
" I hope not I earnestly hope not," said Maggie.
" What will be will be," said Trafford, oracularly, and again
he sat down by her for a few minutes.
" I have had another letter from Torchester ; he is most
pressing about my joining him in London."
" And shall you go ? "
" Yes, I think I had better ; but I shall see you again, Miss
Grey. My movements are rather uncertain. I have been
leaving Paris for the last three weeks, but I must go some
time." Soon after he said " Good-night " and disappeared.
Mrs. Berry from this time was a constant puzzle to Maggie.
She was not unkind, but she \\as preoccupied and strangely
reticent. She constantly sent Maggie out on distant errands,
or set her long tasks of millinery and needlework, which
could not be performed in the salon. The sprightly widow
seemed more thoughtful, more indisposed to outlay and dis-
sipation, than before her visit to Fontainebleau, and Maggie's
perceptions, quickened by Trafford's remark, inclined her to
think that her protectress must be in some way entangled
with the Count De Bragance. A week after Mrs. Berry's
last reception had nearly elapsed, and all things continued in
the same unsettled, unexplained state. Trafford had called
twice when they were out, and was once received by Mrs.
Berry, while Maggie, chained, not to the oar, but to the
scissors, dared not leave her work and was not sent for.
This was a trial harder to bear than she liked to confess to
herself.
At Fast Maggie determined to break through the uncom-
fortable silence and estrangement which had grown up so
unaccountably between her protectress and herself. The
explanation came about easily enough one morning after a
long and difficult discussion as to the most judicious style of
trimming a cleaned white alpaca.
" Well, after all, Maggie, I believe you are right ; cerise
ribbon and black lace will make it like new. And, Maggie,
there's that violet and black silk of mine the body doesn't
fit well ; but I have worn it very little indeed it's as good as
new. However, Maggie, you are welcome to it ; you have
always been a good girl to me. What a sin and a shame it
was you didn't marry the earl ! "
" We should both have repented it, I am sure. And, dear
Mrs. Berry, you are so kind that I feel I must say how anxious
l8z THE WOOING O'T.
and uneasy I am about you and everything. I know there's
some change taking place. Don't think me inquisitive, but
are you are you engaged to M. De Bragance ? "
" Why, Maggie, it's really no affair of yours," began Mrs.
Berry, with some attempt at dignity ; but, then, suddenly
changing her tone, she exclaimed, " Well, then, I am ; and
there's an end of it ! "
" Oh, how sorry I am to hear you say so ! " cried Maggie,
with unmistakable sincerity.
" Why, my dear, I dare say it will be a great break up to
you. But lor', Maggie, if you go back to the old shop and
advertise, you'll pick up something quite as good, though I
don't think you'll find another like me in a hurry. Anyhow,
you needn't grudge me a husband. But I'll be bound you're
sorry enough you didn't take Lord Torchester now."
" Ah, Mrs. Berry how little you know me and what I mean !
I am sorry because I cannot like the count because I am
sure he will not make you happy because because for
ever}' reason. Have you written to Mr. Dunsford about it ?
Pray, pray, do not do anything rash without consulting him.''
" I declare, Maggie, one would think I was going to risk
my life, or something dreadful of that sort."
" And so you are, dear Mrs. Berry ; I am sure marriage is
risking your life. Now, have you written to Mr. Dunsford
about money and character and all that ? "
" My goodness, what a mercenary little creature you are !
No, I have not written to Mr. Dunsford, but I am going to.
You see, the count is engaged in a little political matter just
now. It will soon be settled ; but until it is he doesn't like
(more for the sake of others than himself) to draw the atten-
tion of a stiff English lawyer like Dunsford on him. But as
soon as he gives me leave I'll write and tell Dunsford ; for
the count is anxious to do everything handsome about settle-
ments and all that."
" Oh, Mrs. Berry how I wish we were safe in London ! "
sighed Maggie, overwhelmed by this glimpse of the count's
surroundings. " I cannot help feeling very miserable about
you. Do, do promise me that you will never marry him with-
out Mr. Dunsford's knowledge his full knowledge of every-
thing."
" Lor*, child ! I'm not such a fool. But indeed the count
is horrid jealous, and so foolish about me (though he tries to
conceal it before faces) that he is quite miserable till this po-
THE WOOING OPT. 183
litical business is at an end and everything can be settled and
declared."
" Well, Mrs. Berry, do pray tell Mr. Dunsford at once.
Why should M. De Bragance's politics keep you from consult-
ing so sensible a friend if they were not dangerous and wrong ? "
" Oh, that's all you know about it. I can tell you there is
a very brilliant career before me. People little know the
changes that's going to be*"
" All I hope and pray is that you may be happy," cried
poor Maggie, tears in her eyes and despair in her voice, utter,
ly aghast at this revelation of the widow's folly and credulity,
on which De Bragance was evidently playing for some reason.
All she could now do for her friend was to keep her up to
her resolution not to marry without consulting Mr. Dunsford ;
for to fight against the count's influence was impossible.
" Lor', Maggie, don't be making yourself unhappy for noth-
ing ; and above all, child, don't let out a word about us being
engaged to no one. The count says it is essential to keep
everything quiet in order to to oh, to frustrate his enemies,
in short. Now, mind you don't say one word to any one."
" I will not as you wish it, Mrs. Berry."
" So now you understand everything, you can keep out of
the way when the count comes, and I'll look out all sorts of
things that may be of use to you. I'd like you to stay with
me till the last till I'm Countess De Bragance ; but then I'm
afraid you must go ; for, to tell you the truth, the count's no
fonder of you than you are of him. However, I'll pay your
fare back and give you a present into the bargain when the
time comes, though you have been considerably over the year
with me, Maggie."
" Oh, you have always been most kind and generous to me,"
cried Maggie, with hearty gratitude, though quite bewildered
by the complete change coming on so fast, and scarcely heed-
ing the confidence which, the barrier once broken, Mrs. Berry
proceeded to pour into her unsympathizing bosom touching
the doubts and fears which had kept the count- silent, his
sufferings lest his love should not be reciprocated, his dis-
tinguished position, his political importance, etc., etc., etc.,
-until she was interrupted by the announcement, that the sub-
ject of her commentaries awaited her in the salon.
" Well, Maggie, you might go out and get the cerise ribbon ;
it will divert your mind rouse you out of the blues,"
But this desirable end was not so easy of accomplishment;
Maggie was thoroughly depressed. Mrs. Berry s destiny
iSx. THE WOOING O'T.
seemed so dreadful, and she herself utterly powerless to pre-
vent it. There was nothing to be done but to resign herself
to the eddies and currents of life's stream, and let them carry
whither they would.
It was altogether a dull day, for Mrs. Berry went out in the
evening, and Maggie, in spite of her better judgment, longed
very intensely that Trafford might call ; for though she must
not tell him of the widow's engagement, they could speak of
it as a thing that might be, and his opinion or advice or any-
thing he might say about it would be sure to be wise and
worthy of note. At any rate he surely would not leave without
saying good-bye. And then all his books and papers how
was she to return them to him unless he sent for them ? So
Maggie stitched away at the cerise garniture, conjuring up
Trafford's dark face and deep-set and sweet lingering smile
so vividly that at last she started quite ashamed of herself,
and turned her thoughts away to the old tender home and the
mother love, still her dearest, holiest memory, till the tears of
which she was unconscious dropped on some of the sacred
cerise ribbon and made her feel a guilty wretch indeed.
" I wonder what will become of me ultimately," she thought,
as "she smoothed her work and folded it right," like Lord
Houghton's charming " fair little girl." " I suppose I shall
have to go to Beverly Street, for a while at all events. Heigh-
ho ! I wish I did not hate my aunt so much, or that I could
have poor uncle Grey all to myself to make him happy, for I
do not think any of them care for him."
And so she rose up and sought for a book wherewith to em-
ploy her rebel thoughts, as she must not dream of seeking
her pillow till Mrs. Berry returned.
" I say, Maggie," cried Mrs. Berry the next morning when
her breakfast was brought, " I am not going to receive to-
night. All our set have agreed to go to Mabille, just to see
the fun, and Spencer Smith gives us a supper after. I would
take you, only there is not a gentleman to take care of you,
and you can't go to Mabille without."
" Oh, do not mind abouv me," said Maggie, contentedly,
quite glad to be released from the reception. " I can stay at
home very well, and read or work."
The rendezvous for the party to Mabille was at the baro-
ness' apartments, so Maggie was left alone somewhat early,
but found it not so easy to carry out her intention of enjoy-
ing a long and uninterrupted treat of reading in peace. Un-
easy thoughts would obtrude themselves a great and unutter
THE WOOING OT. 185
able horror of returning to her aunt of losing sight of such
glimpses of a more polished and higher-toned world as her
life with Mrs. Berry afforded her ; and then she wondered
greatly that neither Bell nor Jemima had answered either ot
her last letters so long a lapse in even their intermittent cor-
respondence was strange ; but, they were always negligent.
And so she passed further out of the realms of distinct thought
into dreamland, and sat long, her elbow on the table ; one
hand supporting her head, the other turning slowly the pages
she did not see.
At last Rosalie startled her by entering noiselessly with
the lamp, which she placed on the table, exclaiming, " Viola
monsieur, qui vous cherche" and was immediately followed by
Trafford.
" Now as Mademoiselle will not be alone," continued Ro-
salie, " I shall go and make a visit to my poor brother, who is
very suffering quite near this, and return in a little quarter of
an hour." So, without waitng a reply, Rosalie took herself
off.
" No reception to-night, Miss Grey ? Is the fair widow 'wooed
and married and all that such a bonleversewent of the estab-
lished order of things has occurred ? " asked Trafford, seat-
ing himself at the table, while Maggie, a little only a little
surprised, closed her book.
" No, no, she said, smiling, the quick, bright blush which
had risen to her cheek at his first address dying away. " But
it seems the people who usually come here have agreed to go
to Mabille instead. So I have had a quiet evening all to my-
self, which I was very glad of."
" I can imagine that," said Trafford, shading his eyes with
his hand, as if from the lamp, that he might unnoticed take a
long and, as he intended, last look at the fair, fresh face,
the pensive, mobile mouth, and clear, frank eyes opposite to
him. Neither did he mention that he happened to have seen
the party aforesaid go into the famous gardens, as he strolled
to and fro, uncertain whether he would put himself to the pain
of seeing Maggie surrounded by Mrs. Berry 's set. " And."
he continued, " you have been consoling yourself with a
novel ? "
" An unusual treat to me," returned Maggie, and proceeded
to speak of some of the characters from a sort of dread of
silence. Trafford was unusually silent though brimming over
with words he must not speak.
At length, struck bv his remarkable stillness, Maggie stop-
186 THE WOOING VT.
ped short, and with a quick glance at his face, which looked
haggard and thinner than ever, said, softly and timidly, " Are
you quite well, Mr. Trafford ? You look ill."
" 111 enough," he returned, without thinking, and then
hastily added : " There is nothing the matter with me but
but I am glad to have an opportunity of seeing you quietly.
Miss Grey, I leave Paris to-morrow."
This was the upshot of the many studies he had made of
tours de phrazes in which he should best break the trying in-
telligence ; for, without coxcombry, he feared, honestly feared,
that he might cause pain to that untried, simple heart. Now
he had blurted out the whole truth, and noted, with a most
illogical mingling of pain and pleasure, how Maggie's little
hands involuntarily clasped themselves together and her lip
quivered for a moment, even while she exclaimed, with a frank-
ness that belied these symptoms :
" Leave Paris to-morrow ? I am so sorry."
" Yet I can be but a small loss to you." said Trafford,
with reviving animation, irresistibly impelled to play with fire,
to his own cost and detriment. " I have never been able to
be of use to you as I should like, or " he paused abruptly
and lost the thread of his discourse in a great longing to take
both her hands in his and tell her what an awful wrench
this parting was.
" Is he really pained to part with me, and too proud to own
it ? " thought Maggie. " He is not like himself."
" You have always been very good to me," she said, aloud,
determined not to show any weakness herself, though how
her heart beat Trafford little imagined ; " you have shown me
great consideration, and understood me, and I never met any
one to take that trouble before ; but I suppose it was no
trouble to you."
Maggie meant a high tribute to his knowledge of character,
and when Trafford answered absently, " Not much," con-
sidered he had formed no very high estimate of her.
" But I have a quantity of books and papers of yours,"
was her next remark, after a short, awkwark silence. " How
am I to return them, and Rosalie is gone out ? "
" They are not of the slightest consequence ; do not trouble
about them. And now listen to me," moving to a low ottoman
beside her ; " let us talk in the plainest, most common-sense
style. Promise not to quarrel with what I say."
" Indeed I will not," retumed Maggie, taking up her work.
There was such a sweet fulness of anticipative pardon in he*
THE WOOING OT. 187
voiee and smile, that Trafford rose and paced once or twice
to and fro before he could quite command the commonplace
tone he proposed to use.
" This widow of yours is going to make a fool of herself
very soon, that is tolerably evident, and you cannot live on
with Madame la Comtesse De Bragance ? "
" Of course not. I shall not be asked."
" Well, then, do put down your work and look at me while
I speak." This was said imploringly, and Maggie obeyed,
looking straight at him for a second, and then gradually
dropping her eyelids.
" Well, then you'll have to return to your aunt, and what
will become of you there, Maggie ? " Her name came out
so naturally that neither of them noticed it.
" Oh, I shall not be long there, I hope," she said, rather
dejectedly.
" It is awfully uncertain. Now I shall see Lady Torches-
ter the clay after to-morrow, and she will certainly ask about
you. May I not tell her that you will soon be disengaged,
and glad to find a quiet, comfortable home somewhere ? I
can add my own opinion of you, you know, as a very
obstinate, high-spirited young lady, who will not yield an inch
to any one ; but on the whole, not a disagreeable companion.
You cannot possibly object to this : and if Lady Torchester
writes to you, you will reply ? "
" Yes, to be sure I shall," cried Maggie. " Do you think
me so unreasonable or so ill-bred as to leave a kindness
unacknowledged, or reject any chance of independence ?
Though I would much rather not have it through Lady Tor-
chester, for I don't want ever to meet Lord;Torchester, or in
short, I want to forget all about it," and she recommenced
her work with an air of resolution.
" What ? " exclaimed Trafford, for he could not keep back
the words, " do you wish to forget all and every one connected
with Tor's disappointment ? Will you wipe me out with the
rest ? "
" No," replied Maggie, half surprised at the coolness lent
her by pride, which would not let her for a moment seem to
accept the implied tenderness for an open avowal of which
she was too lowly. " No, I never wish to forget the real
kindness you have shown me, and," she continued, with a
beating heart, and voice she could scarce keep steady, yet
determined to show she wanted nothing from him, " it is so
odd that we should ^ such *nenHs it is even strange w
1 88 THE WOOING O'T.
should ever have met, our places are so widely apart. I
suppose after this we shall never meet again ; but I shall ever
remember that all through your anxiety to save your cousin
from an unequal match, you did me justice and never wounded
me. I hope you will remember (f you remember anything
about it) that I heartily acknowledge this, and am obliged to
you." She stopped abruptly, feeling as if she had said too
much."
" Remember ? " muttered Trafford, half to himself.
" I shall remember longer and more than you think," and
than a long silence ensued. Trafford was at once relieved
yet a little mortified at Maggie's tone. It was impossible so
young and candid a creature could so completely disguise
her sentiments if she cared for him, and it was better so
much better ; particularly as there could be no harm in his
staying a little longer. So he roused himself, and talked of
Lord Torchester and the likeness Maggie had perceived in
him to her cousin, John Grey ; but the conversation languished.
If Maggie was composed, she was also spiritless, and Trafford
gathered himself up for the effort of saying good-by.
" Do not let me commit the stupidity of forgetting to take
your address, should Lady Torchester want to write you."
" I hardly know where. I am sure we shall soon leave
Paris. I had better give you my uncle's No. 9 Beverly
Street."
" Pray write it." So Maggie hastily wrote down. " M.
Grey, care of Mr. John Grey, chemist, 9 Beverly Street."
" That will always find me," she said, giving it to him ;
" though I feel as if I were adrift. I think I should like to
be on the Continent again. Life is easier and pleasanter
than in England."
" Life is a tremendous puzzle."
" And rather a sad one, I think," said poor Maggie.
" Well, I must go," replied Trafford, slowly folding up the
morsel of paper on which Maggie had written her address,
and placing it in his pocket-book, feeling that he must cut the
interview short if he was to retreat with any credit. " Good-
bye, then," he said, rising and taking her hand. " I am glad
you do not quite reject my offer of Lady Torchester's assist-
ance."
" Good-bye," said Maggie, simply, and Trafford turned
away, bt as he reached the door he felt he could not leave
her thus, and coming quickly back took her cold hands in
both of his.
THE WOOING O'T. 189
" Maggie," said he, looking intently down into her eyes,
and speaking hurriedly, " should you be in any real difficulty,
should your aunt or any one else be intolerable, promise to
write to me write to Lady Torchester's care, if you will.
'The Beeches, Richmond,' or 'St. James' Square,' will
always find her; and my club is 'The Travelers.' Don't
fancy yourself without friends ; life is hard enough, and wants
no sensation of loneliness to darken it more. Promise me
this, dear Maggie."
" Yes, I will, if I need it," murmured Maggie, almost
stunned by this exhibition of feeling and interest.
" It is a promise, mind, and I expect you to keep it," re-
turned Trafford ; then pressing her hand almost painfully, he
repeated, "Good-bye, then, Maggie, good-bye," and went
away so quickly, that she heard the outer door shut before
she quite understood that he was gone.
And then what an awful desolation fell upon her ! even a
darkness that might be felt. Had she indeed seen the last
of him ? Was her life henceforth to be all gloom ? Was it
possible that with her knowledge of the barrier between them
a barrier, the width of which, with all his chivalrous cour-
tesy and playful tenderness, he had never for a moment sought
to lessen or disguise she had let this man twine himself
around her heart, till she felt as if she could sacrifice pride
and reserve, past and future, just to hear his voice once more,
in those accents which said more than words to feel the
clasp of his hand upon her own. " What shall I do ? How
can I bear it ? " she exclaimed aloud, secure in her loneliness,
and frightened at the intensity of her own feelings, the depths
of which had never before been stirred. Yet, the first mo-
ments of agitation over, she struggled gallantly against the
tide of her grief.
Maggie was no logician, in her coolest moments, and now
especially was incapable of reason ; but the fixed, underlying
feminine instinct, which has probably kept more women
straight, than religion, morality, and calculation put together,
the true instinct that woman " should not unsought be won,"
which she possessed very strongly, came to her aid, and she
cried shame upon herself for thus casting her full heart before
a man who didn't want it.
Of course it was plain enough that he felt keenly parting
with her, that he liked her at any rate beyond the average of
an everyday acquaintance. She was not utterly "unsought;"
but if he had given her a tithe of the affection she lavished on
190 THE WOOING OT.
him, would he submit to this separation ? He was no great
lord like his cousin, with a noble mother whose proud heart
might break under the load of a mesalliance; he had no clearly
defined " caste " duties to restrain the impulses of his heart.
" No," thought Maggie, " I must exaggerate looks and tones
and chance words ; he could only have felt kindly friendship
for a girl, whom, though she amused him, he certainly re-
spected, and that is a comfort ; " then with the genuine hu-
mility which, in characters like Maggie's exists quite apart
from the smallest tinge of self-abasement, she thought over
the small inducements she possessed to draw a man like
Trafford out of his own sphere to take a lowly and ungifted
girl like herself to wife : " Of course it is too absurd to think
of, and I must try and put him quite out of my head. It
seems as if I never could cease to see him now, but if I try
hard I may grow quiet and hopeful again. I wish he had
gone away with Lord Torchester. I did not care for him so
much then but I did care though, too much, even then.
What a fool I am ! "
And so she sat there dreaming and fighting against her
dreams, and, although perhaps high and philosophic minds
might disdain the curious jumble which Maggie would have
termed thinking, she fought a good fight in that lonely hour
a fight which, if some delicate decorations and delusions
were tarnished and destroyed, left an increase of strength be-
hind it.
When Rosalie returned, she was surprised and rather
offended to find that monsieur had gone gone a long time.
" Mais mon Dieu ! laisser une charmante demoiselle comme
vous toute seule ! Ah ! il est Anglais, bien entendu ! "
"Rosalie," said Maggie, deeply grateful that the "little
quarter of an hour " had stretched into a half a dozen, and
left her the inestimable advantage of utter solitude in which
to do battle ; " Rosalie I have worked and written till my
eyes and head ache. I must go to bed. If you cannot man-
age to undress Mrs. Berry when she comes in, call me, and I
will get up ; I fancy she will be late."
" Allez au lit, mon ange," returned Rosalie, genially ; * je
ferai 1'impossible pour vous donner de repos." And as Mag-
gie retreated she muttered, " Je crains que tout ne va pas
bien la bas. Quant a cette poupe'e de femme, elle est trop
bien servie ma foi ! "
Mrs. Berry was far too much occupied in her own concerns
THE WOOING OT. 191
to notice whether any change had come o'er the spirit of Mag-
gie's life during the week which followed Trafford's depart-
ure ; and indeed it would have puzzled so superficial an ob-
server to distinguish the subtle difference that was to be felt
rather than seen in her young protegee. For Maggie fought
bravely against sentiment and depression, and had the great
assistance of feeling that none save herself knew her weak
ness. Moreover, although her religious knowledge and aspi-
rations had, since her mother's death, had little to extend
or foster them, and she was strangely ignorant of the merits
of High or Low Church, she was yet happy in thoroughly be-
lieving in a Providence that shapes our ends an Almighty
Father who would deign to accept the service of an honest
life and hear the prayer of an earnest heart. Had she been
asked what was her religious creed, she would no doubt have
rehearsed correctly " The Articles of the Christian Faith ;"
but how much of these she believed with the understanding
and the heart she never stopped to question. Her faithful
chronicler is quite ready to affirm that the substance of her
religion is contained in the above summary. She was there-
fore, not quite without consolation.
" Maggie," said Mrs. Berry, about a week after this parting
had nearly pressed the life out of her protegee's young heart,
" Maggie, can we pack up everything and pay up everything
to-morrow, so as to be able to start the day after for Eng-
land ? "
" Start for England the day after to-morrow ! " cried Mag-
gie, delighted. " I don't think it is possible, but I will do my
best. I will go and look over the bills at once ; the only
thing really to come in is Madame Delplanque's, and /ou had
better see about that yourself. Still I do not see how we can
get off on Thursday."
" Well, we must ; that is the Iqng and the short of it. The
count says he will meet us at Dover on Thursday, so we must
go-"
" The count ! " repeated Maggie, dismayed. She -had nearly
forgotten him, for he, too, had disappeared suddenly, at
least she had not seen him since the memorable evening of
the party to Mabille. " I suppose then we are bound for
London ? " added Maggie, rather eagerly, anxious to bring
the widow within the common-sense influence of Mr. Duns-
ford.
" Yes, I suppose so," replied Mrs. Berry evasively, " but
i* THE WOOING CTT.
never mind just now. You go and speak to Rosalie. I gup-
pose I must pay her a month for nothing at all."
" Of course," returned Maggie, who at once plunged into
the fatigue and bewilderment of such a sudden move with a
right good will that bore her triumphantly through all difficul-
ties. The constant movement, the more than complete occu-
pation, were a wonderful relief after the weary monotony of
her mental strife ; and when on the destined Thursday she
followed Mrs. Berry into the luggage-laden fiacre that was to
take them to the station, though every limb ached with fatigue,
she felt more freshness of spirit than she had known for
many days.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE London season was at the spring-tide, in the fullest
flood, when Trafford found himself once more in the Albany.
Lord Torchester had never got furthur than the great me-
tropolis, having been swept into the social maelstrom, where
he found an excellent place assigned him and Trafford was
much struck and amused by the increase of self-possession
and worldly tact which the young earl appeared to have acquired,
even in the short space of four or five weeks. He had beg-
ged Trafford to join him, and was very pleased to see him ;
but he evidently had not a disengaged moment, and Trafford,
for whom London had none of the charms it possessed for
his cousin, quickly determined to seek somewhere else for
the change of scene and thought he felt he must have.
A great friend of his, an artist, as yet scarcely known (for
Geoffrey Trafford had many dear friends in Bohemia), was
about to start for Bordeaux, intending to sketch among the
picturesque old towns of Aquitaine, and then to push on to
the Pyrenees. Trafford proposed to accompany him so far.
There was a good deal of the artist in his nature, and he was
an immense favorite among ths pleasant, careless, ready-
witted knights of the brush and pen ; who declared him to
be a good fellow though unavoidably a fine gentleman, and
as ready to rough it in any of their expeditions as the poorest
among them. But firs* he must see Lady Torchester an&
Bolton. His aunt on the occasion of his dining with her the
day after his arrival, had been surrounded by a large party of
THE WOOING OT. 193
her own peculiar people. He had therefore no opportunity
of executing his self-imposed mission.
The stamp of the busy season was nowhere more visible
than in the vicinity of Lincoln's Inn. Hansom cabs writhed
and twisted through the tortuous approaches, coming out into
its comparative quiet from beneath mysterious archways, and
depositing anxious-looking clients, pale lawyers, florid country
gentlemen doomed flies on the edge of that web of courts
which spreads its meshes between the so-called " Fields " and
Chancery Lane. The dusty heated faces that looked out
from under those terrible horsehair wigs, which at once pro-
claim and punish the limbs of the law, were visible in need
of sea baths and fresh air, as the owners thereof whisked
from one court to another, the tails of their gowns fluttering
behind them.
In a large, quiet, cool, back room, on the ground-floor of a
large, dull house on the south side of the above-named fields
a vast house, every room of which was crammed with
clerks and papers, and where the scratching of pens cease^.
not from morn till :ve in the everlasting task of wrapping up
the sense of facts in a mist of words in this cool, big, back
room, enthroned in state, sat Mr. Bolton, head of the great
firm of Bolton and Lee, a prince among solicitors, a deposit-
ary of aristocratic secrets from whose penetrating eye no cli-
ent's little weaknesses were hidden. He was dictating a letter
to a doughy-looking clerk, who took down his utterances in
short-hand. As he spoke, another youth entered with a slip
of paper, at which Mr. Bolton glanced, and saying shortly,
" in five minutes," continued his letter to the end. Where-
upon the doughy-looking clerk vanished, and shortly after Mr.
Geoffrey Trafford was ushered in.
" Very glad to see you," said Bolton, shaking hands with
him corjdially. " When did you return ? I began to be afraid
you would never come back."
" I arrived a few days ago," said Trafford, drawing a chair
in front of Bolton's table.
" Can't say you are looking the better of your stay in Paris,
though you seem to have done the state great service. I
suppose you have seen the countess, and received the ovation
she had prepared for you ? You certainly have been the sal-
vation of her son."
" Nothing of the kind, I assure you," said Trafford, impa-
tiently. " I did nothing, could do nothing. The luck of the
family was in the ?endant, and Torchester is a free man.
194 THE WOOING OT.
Yes, I dined with my aunt on Tuesday, and was glad to see
her so cheerful and content. I am going out of town again
next week, so I thought I would have a talk with you, and
hoar what you have been doing."
" Quite right, Mr. Trafford. By the way, your last from
Paris gave me great pleasure. Though you commit yourself
to nothing, I could see the promise of a political career : I
have my eyes open for the first chance of a seat. I had a
talk with your honest Mudborough representative; but I
am sorely afraid you are too liberal for that constituency."
" I think I am," said Trafford, absently.
" By the way, I have put all your available capital into
Oldham and Garrett you gave me carte blanche."
" I have no doubt you have done well," returned Trafford,
thoughtfully. : I suppose there is nothing left "
" Except the Riverside Farms," interrupted Bolton, " and
though they are underlet, they bring in a trifle over four hun-
dred a year."
" One would not starve on that," said Trafford.
" Starve ! My dear sir, your fortune is before you. Why,
you will be able to reckon on eight per cent, for your capital ;
so there is a very decent income to begin upon. Enough to
start you on some career free from carking cares, and need-
ing only to think of success."
Trafford rose, and walked to the window without speaking,
and then turning with his pleasant smile to Bolton, exclaimed,
" I am really not worth the trouble you take. Yet I feel
rather ashamed at having done nothing but hunt, and shoot,
and fish, for these twenty-five years past. I suppose I have
followed my vocation, and for the life of me I cannot find
another. I have not a mission of any sort, and I have a
strong conviction that England will pull through all her diffi-
culties without my help."
" She would be all the better for the help of an honest, in-
telligent, well-educated, gentleman, to counterbalance the
crowd of officious, self-interested demagogues who force
themselves to the front to pick up what they can."
" Yet if I do join the ' crushing crowd,' Bolton, I fancy I
shall be a bit of a Radical."
" Be something," said the energetic old gentleman, em
phatically. " I was brought up a Tory, and I lean to that
faction, but were I a young man I should be a Liberal.
Whatever one's likings or prejudices, we must go with the
spirit of the times, or be thrown out of the race altogether."
THE WOO TNG OT. 195
" To tell you the truth," rejoined Trafford, " I want to do
something, be interested in something, and get rid of this in-
fernal sense of self and isolation that hangs round me like z.
winding-sheet." He stopped abruptly at the sight of Bolton's
astonished expression of countenance as he listened to such
an unwonted outburst from the usually calm debonair Traf-
ford. " I mean, I am rather sick of myself," he continued,
laughing. " I suppose I have caught the trick of tall talking
from my French acquaintance."
" My dear young friend,, you are not well ; you had better
see Dr. Saville. Now I look at you, you are looking thin
and haggard ; not half the man you were two months ago."
" Pooh ! nonsense ! Seriously, Bolton, I am resolved to
make myself a place, but I am going to run over to St.
Petersburg first. Nothing to be done here during the win-
ter, and St. Petersburg is one of the few places I don't
know."
" Come, Mr. Trafford, no looking back, once you have put
your hand to the plow."
" But I haven't put my hand to it. Then the countess
wants me to take Torchester in hand and convey him away
somewhere north, where his cousin, Miss Wallscourt, is stay-
ing; the heiress that is to be, toward whom the pious
countess' feelings are somewhat tinged with the old leaven.
But if she thinks that because I was ready to mar one mar-
riage I am willing to make another, she is much mistaken.
From henceforth my revered cousin must manage his love af-
fairs himself. He will be all right now."
" I suppose so. But, my dear Mr. Trafford, I always thought
the young lady in question would exactly suit you. Lady
Torchester ought to remember that the earl has come into a
highly improved and improvable estate ; while you well you
would undoubtedly be the better of an heiress-wife. You
know Miss Wallscourt ? "
" Yes that is, I knew her as a child and a very young
girl, a pretty and uncommonly self-willed little thing. She
must be one or two-and-twenty now. No, Bolton, my fancies
do not lead that way ; I don't care for matrimony. I'll tell
you what I'll do. I will amuse myself and make up my po-
litical mind till Christmas, and then I'll come into residence
in this huge market and do something. I will ! not to please
you only ; to please myself."
" If you begin in that spirit, you will succeed. But an
heiress is not to be despised ; such an heiress, well-bred^
196 THE WOOING O'T.
well-born, a family connection, no objectionable blood ties,
sufficient good looks, et cetera, to do away with a mercenary
air eh ? "
Trafford took up his hat and rose lazily. Leaning his arm
on the chimney-piece, he remarked :
" I begin seriously to doubt whether education and civili-
zation, and all the other botherations, do any good ; I mean
in the sense of enjoyment. A well-to-do savage in a country-
full of game has a far jollier life of it than I have, for in-
stance. He can indulge his natural tastes, and not be crib-
bed, cabined, and confined, with here a barrier of rank and
there a rampart of duty, debts to one's self, to one's tailor,
to society, and the Lord knows what besides. I think I
would go back to North America, were it not for having
tasted that fatal tree of knowledge, which somehow spoils the
flavor of other fruit."
" Pooh ! nonsense ! my young friend, you have always per-
mitted me to assume the character of your mentor, so I must
tell you, your nonsense is not even original. There is no
occupation more exhilarating than the struggle to get the bet-
ter of one's fellow-creatures. Throw yourself into the battle
and we shall hear no more of such thin philosophy. I cannot
help thinking, Mr. Trafford," looking keenly at him, " that
you are not well, or or something."
Trafford laughed good-humoredly. " I am well enough,
old friend," he said. " I only want work, I suppose, and as
you have plenty, I will take myself away."
" Where are you going ? "
" To dine with Lady Torchester. She wants a tete-cL-tett
dinner, as I start tomorrow. When we met on Tuesday,
'twas in a crowd. Good-bye, Bolton, and many thanks for
your fatherly care and belongings."
" Keep me informed of your movements," said Mr. Bol-
ton, rising and shaking his young friend's hand, " and don't
throw away the ' goods the gods provide.' "
" Au revoir, returned Trafford, and closed the door on his
mentor.
At the early hour of seven that evening, Geoffrey Trafford
sat at dinner with his aunt in the handsome but sombre din-
ing-room of The Beeches.
" I am afraid my hours are uncomfortably early for you,
Geoffrey," said the countess. " Had I thought, I should
have said dinner at eight."
THE WOOING O'T. 197
" My dear aunt, I have dined well at all hours, from eleven
till nine : seven is, I think, sensible. I should be shocked
if you had changed your hour for me."
" When do you start to-morrow ? Barnes, Mr. Trafford
will take a little more fish."
" Thanks. We talk of catching the steamer at Gravesend
about two to-morrow."
" By steamer ? By what route do you travel, then ! "
" By steamer to Bordeaux."
*' Rather an uncomfortable mode of progress."
" Not to an old salt like myself. No, thanks " (fowl off-
ered) : "lamb."
" Was Paris very full of English ? "
" They were as thick as leaves that fall in Vallambrosa."
A pause, during which Lady Torchester longed for the
dessert and uninterrupted confidence.
" Will not you take champagne, Geoffrey ? "
" Dear Lady Torchester, no. It would be sacrilege to mix
any other vintage with your incomparable Burgundy. I saw
Bolton to-day. He was inquiring particularly for your lady-
ship. What a capital fellow he is ! "
" Yes," returned the countess slowly, doubtfully. " Poor
dear Lord Torchester had the highest possible opinion of
him. But is it not sad to see a man of his age so absorbed
in the things of this life ? It is curious that neither Mr.
Badger nor Mr. White, both very enlightened men Torches-
ter's tutors you remember Mr. Badger I am sure ? neither
of them liked Mr. Bolton. They thought I do not know
exactly what they thought, but they did not like him."
" No, I fancy not," said Geoffrey, accepting a segment of
iced pudding.
" He is certainly a hopeless heathen in some ways, but you
could not have a sounder adviser. I am sure I owe him an
unlimited amount of gratitude for all sorts of good services."
At last dessert was put on and they were left alone.
" Now, my dear Geoffrey, I quite long to hear all details.
1 had such a hurried talk with you when you were with all
rhose people. When you went over first how did Torchester
receive you ? "
" Not very cordially. He evidently thought my visit boded
interruption to his plans," replied Geoffrey, his heart beating
a little faster than he expected at this much-wished for open-
ing, which he meant to use in Maggie's service, while he
remembered that it was just a week that very evening since,
J9 S THE WOOING O'T.
by such a tremendous effort at self-control, he had bid hef
good-bye with but indifferent composure. " I soon saw I
could do but very little with him, and I much fear that my
efforts, though guarded, earned me his hearty disgust," added
Trafford, laughing as he remembered the tete-a-tete he had so
ruthlessly interrupted.
" I am sure, Geoffry, Torchester is warmly attached to you,
and he ought to be. I will always believe that you did some-
how save him. I am sure, but for you, this Miss Grey would
now be my daughter-in-law."
As the countess spoke an idea flashed across Trafford's
mind. " Could it be that a half unconscious preference for
me decided her against so tempting an offer ? " but he put
away the thought.
" Miss Grey certainly would have been your daughter-in-
law by this time but for herself," he replied gravely, " and
I do not know another woman who would have acted as she
did. Think of the temptation, to even a girl of good posi-
tion ! Torchester was of age perfectly his own master a
few words, a moment's time, would have changed her from a
penniless dependent waif to a peeress of England to a social
position which the commonest good sense and good conduct
would have made all her own. Even you would not have
turned your back on your son's wife, and every one must feel
that Torchester is just the sort of fellow to stand by the
woman who bears his name."
"You are quite right," cried the countess eagerly. "Then
why did the young lady let him escape ? Perhaps she had
not understanding education enough to see all these
advantages ? "
Trafford shook his head and helped himself to some more
strawberries. " She has quite brains enough to comprehend
it all. Torchester owes his failure, I mean his escape, to
three reasons : first she was not a tinge in love with him ''
" Yet," interrupted the mother, " my boy is certainly
attractive."
" No doubt. But though younger a little in years, Miss
Grey has been matured in the school of adversity, and looks
on your boy as a boy. Then she had a strong idea it would
make you miserable this I encouraged ; and thirdly, I could
see she very wisely thought that when Torchester cooled down
enough to count the cost of his whim, he might think it rathei
expensive. But my first reason includes all the rest."
THE WOOING OT. 199
" She must be an uncommonly high-minded woman," said
Lady Torchester, with measured approbation.
" I suppose she is," returned Trafford musingly, " But my
dear aunt, don't you think it argues a low standpoint of mor-
ality when we are roused to admiration by a girl following
her own natural healthy instinct for happiness in her own
class, instead of standing on tip-toes to snatch that which is
far above, out of her reach ? Miss Grey has shown sound
ness of heart and mind."
"Which is sufficiently rare to be extremely valuable. Is
she pretty, Geoffrey ? Of course poor Torchester thought so,
but it does not therefore follow."
" She is scarcely pretty ; yet your son showed very good
taste," said Trafford smiling, and answering the real question.
" She is very fair and gentle ; you might easily pass her in a
crowd ; but if you looked at her once you would be sure to
look at her again. There is a quiet harmonious grace about
her I cannot quite describe. I fancy it is the result of never
seeming; her great charm is her wonderful naturalness and
earnestness she "
" My dear Geoffrey," interrupted the countess, with the
faintest tinge of suspicion, " you appear to take a very deep
interest in this young person."
" I do, indeed, said Trafford, with disarming frankness and
self-possession, looking straight into his aunt's eyes. " And
more, I want you to take an interest in her. She is rather
unfortunately placed ; an orphan, a true-hearted, right-minded
girl, utterly dependent on an uncle and aunt sufficiently bur-
dened already, and living with a terrific female this Mrs.
Berry low, ignorant, idiotic, on the point of marriage with
a French blackleg."
" I am sure I should be very happy to be of any use to
her," said Lady Torchester, kindly, " if you would point out.
the way. And how did you manage to find out all this,.,
Geoffrey ? You must surely have become very intimate with
my son's inamorata ? "
" You see," replied Trafford, with excessive candor, " when
I found the sort of girl she was I ventured to speak of you,,
and then she frankly told me that my cousin was safe, as far
as she was concerned ; so we became great friends, and I
gathered what I have told you partly from conversation,
partly from observation. I am sure, my dear aunt, you are
too true a woman not to believe that there are men to b
200 THE WOOING OT.
found who would gladly help a girl they like and respect
without a shade of personal feeling in the matter."
" They are to be found," said Lady Torchester, " but they
are not numerous ; if, however, they exist anywhere, it wil}
be among the Traffords, for, though not brilliant personages,
they have ever been true and loyal gentlemen. Now, what
can I do for this young lady ? "
Trafford paused, considerably troubled, and smiling to him-
self at the countess' bit of simple family pride. " It is easier
to say, ' Do something ' than to define what the ' something '
is to be," he said, at length. " I suppose Miss Grey wants
to do something, or be something, that will enable her to
earn her bread she has nothing, you know."
" And what can she do ? "
" Oh ! I can hardly tell. She speaks French very \vell, and
I think she plays, and I fancy she would read aloud pleas-
antly. She would be the very thing for some crotchety
dowager who had married off her daughters and wanted a
nice, kindly companion " and as he said this, Trafford
groaned in spirit at the idea of consigning dear, bright
Maggie to such a fate ; but it was the best he could do for
her.
" I suppose she might suit a crochety dowager like myself,
eh, Geoff ? " said the countess, good-humoredly.
"The cap doesn't fit you in the least, rejoined Trafford."
" Well, I really do not want a companion yet ; and besides,
think of the danger ot her coming in contact with Torchester !
It is not to be entertained for a moment ! However, I will
see what I can do ; and " a pause as though for an effort
" suppose I were to write to her ? "
" It would be by far the best plan, and exceedingly kind,
cried Trafford.
" But how could I write to her ? It would be a difficult
letter," urged Lady Torchester.
" Not at all, my dear aunt, if you just think. Say oh !
say that you have heard so much of her from your son and
nephew, and understanding that she is not quite settled with
Mrs. Berry, you would be happy to be of use if she would
inform you how you could serve her something just to open
communications."
" That would be very vague, and rather in the character
of a carte blanche. Nevertheless " noticing the earnestness
of her favorite nephew's countenance " I will write, and try
to do something for your protegee. Surely, she must have
THE WOOING O'T. 201
some wonderful charm, to interest Torchester as a lover and
you as a friend ! " and Lady Torchester rose as she spoke.
" Once you take the affair into your hands neither of us
need trouble ourselves further. May I not waive ceremony,
and be permitted to accompany you to the drawing-room at
once ? "
" Certainly, if you care to do so," returned the countess,
flattered by the wish ; and the cosey tete-a-tete was prolonged
by an open window, which permitted the odors of the garden
to penetrate the room.
Trafford had said his say and gained his point, and now
became a most sympathetic listener to Lady Torchester's
plans and projects respecting her son, who was the ocean to
the river of her thoughts. Tea proved a pleasant interrup-
tion ; and after the servants left, the countess sipped hers in
thoughtful silence.
Suddenly, as though speaking to herself, she remarked. " I
fancy she would make Mr. Blackmore an excellent wife. He
would be quite perfect if he had a wife. Her father was an
artist, you say ? "
" Whose ? " asked Trafford, considerably bewildered,
" Maggie's ? "
The familiar name dropped with fatal readiness from his
lips he would have given the world to recall it ; but Lady
Torchester was too engrossed by her own thoughts to heed
him, so he escaped.
" Do you mean Miss Grey's father ? " repeated Trafford.
" Yes, I believe he was. And who may Mr. Blackmore
be?"
" Oh ! he is the curate at Mount Trafford. Such a pious,
earnest, admirable man ; but he ought to marry. If you and
Torchester are out of the way I shall certainly ask Miss
Grey to stay with me ; and if I think her worthy of him, I
shall invite Mr. Blackmore to meet her."
"Worthy of him! "Oh! Eros, hear her !" But Trafford's
spoken reply was a calm assurance that Miss Grey was, he
felt sure, admirably suited to be a clergyman's wife ; and
then he wrote her address in Paris for his aunt.
" How long do you think of staying among the Pyrenees,
Geoffrey ? "
" Six weeks, perhaps ; certainly not more than two months,
I shall want to see Bolton again early in August."
" Then I hope you are going to Craigmurchau Castle 1 "
202 THE WOOING 0"T.
" Lady Macullum asked me in a general way yesterday,
but I am not sure. Why ? Do you wish me to go ? "
" Because, if you go, Torchester will ; and though it is not
consistent with my views to plan worldly projects, still I
think it is desirable that Margaret Wallscourt and my son
should have an opportunity of meeting. She is not in town
this season, on account of the deaths in her family ; but I
imagine she will be at the Macullums."
" Well, I have promised Tor to join him at the shootings
he has taken, or is going to take, which are within a drive of
Craigmurchau. But remember, my dear aunt, that in your
or Torchester's matrimonial designs I shall meddle no more.
Take my advice ; put your trust in Providence, and leave
your son alone."
" Such advice from you, Geoffrey, is indeed a rebuke," said
the countess, with a grave smile.
"An unintentional one."
"But, Geoffrey, do you not think Margaret exactly the
right wife for my son ? "
" I cannot possibly say. I have not seen her since she
was first in long frocks. If I meet her in Scotland, you shall
have my opinion."
After a little more talk, Trafford bid Lady Torchester
good-night.
" The braw moon glistening o'er " roadway and hedgerow,
villa and cottage, as Trafford drove rapidly and mechanically
back to town. Thank God he had interested the countess in
his young friend ; for, of course, from henceforth Maggie was
only to be his protegee ; a good little girl, to be helped, but
nothing to him personally. No, no ; he had had enough of
that folly, and too much for a man of his age and experience.
It was time he should take a more practical view of life ; all
pleasant things, somehow, were wrong and enervating ; so he
would see about politics, and write a pamphlet, by Jove ! On
Tvhat ? Nobksse oblige " The obligations of Rank "
Pshaw ! it had been done a dozen times already. How well
even these roadside boxes look in the moonlight? Not a
fortnight ago that moon looked on me and Maggie in the
JBois de Boulogne. What a delicious evening that was ! I
would give a year or two to have it over again ! How sweet
and young and calm she looked ; but I never could come out
of it so well a second time. I half wish I had had a kiss
|ust one to remember. Bah ! what folly ! What a queer
imbroglio one's brain is at times ! Maggie's kisses, I suppose.
THE WOOING O'T. 2O|
are reserved for some blessed Blackmore ; these rascal curates
get the best of everything ! Hallo ! you fellows, do you want
the whole of the road ? " This was shouted savagely at some
carters, whose wagons, piled perilously high with cabbages,
were drowsily proceeding townward.
And so, battling with himself, Geoff Trafford reached his
chambers. He glanced through his letters a vain, unac-
knowledged hope that perhaps that predicted difficulty which
yas to drive Maggie to him for counsel and help had come !;
But no. Then he hoped Lady Torchester's letter would find
her in Paris, but of course it would. Mrs. Berry could never
get away suddenly ; " otherwise," thought Trafford, " I should
be afraid, for her sake, to acknowledge I possessed a further
clue to her."
So he turned over the invitation cards, which had already
begun to pour in upon him ; but loathing all in his inmost
soul, sought refuge in his club, where he did find relief and
oblivion in congenial sporting talk.
The next day, in a magnificent flood of sunshine, and with
a delicious breeze just dimpling the water, Trafford set out
on his travels.
His artist friend was in the highest, the most contagious
good spirits. He had sold a couple of pictures unusually
well ; he had paid Ids most pressing debts, and for him life
had not a cloud. He had a mind, he told Trafford, to winter
in Spain, and bring back a wealth of sketches.
There were few passengers besides themselves and those
foreigners; the fare was good, the weather fine; and under
these favorable conditions Trafford managed to become more
like himself again. It was quite a relief to get rid of that
haunting picture of Maggie slender, brown-haired, bending
over her work, or turned slightly from his glance at times, or
meeting it fully and frankly when his talk roused her special
interest, with, her clear, soft, honest gray eyes ; or that vary-
ing smile so bright, at times so sad, or a tinge contemptuous.
And then there was a composed, despondent expression he
knew so well, with the head turned away, showing the pretty
white young throat and small ear, It was a positive relief to
keep these visions at bay to feel the power of resistance
increase ; though they would come still. And so the good
ship sped away, and the friends reached their destination.
Then ensued several weeks of pleasant wandering, during
which few letters reached the wanderers. And Trafford
almost hoped his folly and weakness were quite cured.
204 THE WOOING OT.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE same evening that lit up the picturesque streets of the
Black Prince's capital, to the admiration of Trafford and his
friend, was lowering with a heavy oppressive heat over our
heroine's original quarters in Beverly Street. Yet an unwonted
air of cheerfulness and animation pervaded the chemist's
house.
There was no card in the fanlight over the front door, yet
the dingy drawing room was evidently occupied by the
family.
The back parlor was encumbered with corded boxes, an
open portmanteau, a plethoric hamper, while, though late, the
table was loaded with materials for a most substantial tea,
and over all beamed yes, beamed ! Aunt Grey. The cork-
screw curls were a shade less wiry, the tightly closed lips
were a trifle relaxed, as she fussed to and fro.
Jemima was putting on the- last touches to a bonnet of high
pretensions, while the worthy chemist was seated at table,
partaking of the good things over which his eldest daughter
presided.
" I cannot fix this ribbon anyway ! " exclaimed Jemima,
impatiently. " I must say Maggie was a wonderful help
where there was anything to do up ; she would twist this into
shape in no time."
"Don't talk nonsense," said Mrs. Grey, sharply. "You
have no perseverence. Maggie ain't cleverer than her
neighbors."
" When did you hear from Maggie last " asked Mr. Grey,
his mouth full of poached egg and toast.
" I can hardly tell oh, about three weeks ago," said Bell.
" You have written to her, I suppose ? " returned her father.
" No, indeed ; there has been no time," put in Mrs. Grey.
A loud ring and small knock at the front door interrupted
her.
" Whoever is that ? "
" It's only Dick playing tricks," said Jemima
And the next moment the youth she named rushed in,
exclaiming, " Here's Maggie back again, bag and baggage, in
a cab."
THE WOOING 0"T. 205
" Don't tell ridiculous stories," said his mother undisturbed.
" It is true, though ! You come and see."
Jemima dropped her work, and rushed into the hall while
Bell called after her that she was a fool to mind him. But
another sound caught Mrs. Grey's ears ; she stood still for an
instant to listen, and then followed her daughter. A general
hubbub of voices ensued, then all came crowding into the
room together with Maggie the veritable Maggie in their
midst very pale and weary-looking, with a traveling bag in
her hand, and crowned by a wide-brimmed gray straw hat.
" Maggie, my dear," cried Uncle John, kindly, " I am truly
pleased to see you. We were just speaking of you."
" Dear, dear uncle " a hearty hug and kiss " how well
3'ou are looking ! I am so glad to see you my aunt too I
You all look as bright as possible."
" And what on earth has brought you back so sudden ? "
cried Aunt Grey, not unkindly. " Why there's no end to the
changes."
" Oh," said Maggie, " I have a long story to tell. Mrs.
Berry (who has been engaged for sometime to a Frenchman)
started with me from Paris on Thursday last, intending, she
said, to go to London to see her lawyer, and have matters ar-
ranged previous to her marriage. When we landed at Dover
Monsieur De Bragance, her intended, to my surprise, met us
on the pier. Mrs. Berry said she was not well enough to go
on to town, so we went to an hotel. She was out nearly all
day yesterday; went out again early this morning; and when
she returned informed me she was married to Monsieui De
Bragance, and as her dear husband did not like me, that she was
reluctantly obliged to send me way ; that she herself was
about to accompany him back to the Continent, and that I
had better put my things together and take the next train up
to town. Then she cried a good deal, and kissed me ; gava
me five pounds and my traveling expenses, begged me to go
and see Mr. Dunsford, and tell him what a grand marriage
she had made. So I packed her things and my own, took
first train I could get after and here I am."
" Well, I never ! " sighed Mrs. Grey, sitting down suddenly,
as if she was unable to stand up against such tidings.
" What a mad unprincipled idiotic person ! " said Uncle
Grey, energetically, as he stirred his tea with some violence.
" Well, my dear, you are very welcome here, and we must
take better care who we let you go to in the future."
" Oh ? " cried Maggie, her color returning quickly and
206 THE WOOING &T.
idly under the influence of a warm atmosphere and the cor
centrated attention of five pairs of eyes. " I shall not tres-
pass on your kindness and my aunt's long ; for I shall be able
to find something to do much more easily now."
" My dear girl, there's nothing but changes," began Mrs,
Grey, with unusual good-humor, when Dick broke in boister-
ously.
" Now, Maggie, you shall guess who we're expecting into
tea."
Maggie looked around as she untied her hat, and very nat-
urally guessed " Tom ? "
" Tom, indeed 1 " with derision. " Try again ; two more
guesses."
"I cannot possibly guess unless," with a glance at her
aunt's unusually benignant face, " it is Mr. Mr. oh ! the
gentleman who used to come in and talk science with my
uncle."
" No, no," chorussed Dick, Bell, and Jemima, with loud
laughter.
" Don't worrit," cried Mrs. Grey. " Maggie will be glad to
get off her things and have a cup of tea. How could she
ever guess ? John is come back ; came more than a month
ago, and was going off to-morrow to have a look at Paris and
see you. It is lucky, after all, you did come to-day."
" John ! dear Cousin John come back ! " cried Maggie,
breathless with astonishment, and feeling a certain glow of
comfort in her desolation for it had been a day of utter des-
olation.
"That he has," said the proud father. "Come back, to
be the stay and support of his parents and family a prosper-
ous man, I am happy to say, and worthy of it."
" Yes, I must say he has behaved very handsome," put in
Mrs. Grey ; " but there, Jemmy, go up with Maggie to my
room and let her put off her cloak. Here, I'll make fresh
tea."
While Maggie made her simple toilet, Jemima poured forth
a volume of revelations, which may be epitomized. Things-
had been very gloomy with the chemist and his family before
John arrived, but the active colonist had exercised the magic
of energy, common-sense, and a judicious outlay of capital.
He had seen all pa's creditors. He had rowed Tom " awful,"
and got Tom a berth as surgeon of a passenger's ship to Aus-
tralia with a captain he knew, and, he was to sail to-morrow ;
indeed, Jemima opined that Tom was downright afraid of
THE WOOING O'T. 207
John. She believed John was awfully rich, and he was going
to buy a business for pa somewhere down in the country,
where they would be quite among the gentry, but for her part
she did not want to leave London. There was a young fellow,
a chum of Tom's Maggie must remember him Fred Banks
rather wild, but so handsome and dashing, and so desper-
ately fond of her (Jemima) that it was hard lines having to
give him up, and
Here Mrs. Grey's voice was heard calling shrilly and vocif-
erously from the bottom of the stairs : " Come down, can't
you ? Don't stay all night there chattering."
" I can tell you John was uncommon cross when he found
you were away," said Jemima, significantly, as they went down
stairs. " Oh, they have come in ; I see their hats."
Maggie's head ached, and she felt utterly bewildered ; yet
through all she was conscious of an ardent curiosity to see
what John was like. She remembered him with sincere affec-
tion and gratitude, and that queer, half cousinly, half lover-
like letter she had received from him in Paris nearly forgot-
ten as it had been in the joys, the griefs, the excitement of the
intervening time came back to her mind with a sudden vivid
flash, now that she was so completely isolated, and reduced
at one blow to the original elements of her life. Perhaps
John would be a friend she could love, something to help her
to banish the memories she fought so hard against. These
ideas darted, after the will-o-the-wisp fashion of intuitive
thought, through her brain, while Jemima struggled with the
door-handle locks being chronically disordered in houses of
Mr. Grey's pattern and then it opened. The room seemed
crowded ; all the party, save one, were seated round the
table ; Tom, with an air of having been tamed, next his
mother ; while on the hearth-rug, with his back to the fire-
place, stood a tall, large man, with high, broad shoulders, and
a quantity of rough dark-red hair, and a short, thick beard of
the same color a shade or two ligher, and copious mustaches.
This individual's elbows were resting on the mantel-piece,
thus dragging open his waistcoat, displaying a gray flannel
shirt, a light blue tie with long ends, one of which hung loose,
and a white linen collar. His eyes were light and small, but
quick and keen, and, although every one was talking, his ac-
cents rose above all ; he was exclaiming, in an energetic
drawl, if so contradictory a description can be accepted, ** It
is a d d shame."
There was a sudden silence as Jemima and her companion
208 THE WOOING VS.
entered. John Grey's sharp eyes fixed themselves eagerly oa
our heroine, who, in her turn, gazed appalled at this altered
and enlarged edition of " Cousin John. 1 * He was a thousand
times uglier, and, to her eye, more repulsive than her least
favorable recollections depicted him ! The pause, however,
was but momentary, for the next instant, pushing Jemima
roughly aside, and exclaiming, " Is this little Maggie ? "
" Cousin John," without the smallest hesitation, took her in
his arms, nearly lifted her off the ground, and gave her a huge
kiss so redolent of tobacco, and a suspicion of bramdy, that
Maggie's dismay was complete.
" Here's your tea, Maggie, " called Aunt Grey. " Sit
down here."
" May I not sit by my uncle ? It used alw.ays to be my seat,"
asked Maggie, as she shook hands with Tom, and niched her-
self in between her uncle and Jemima. " I was so surprised,
so pleased, John, to hear you had come back," she added,
anxious to atone for her own guilty feelings. " Was it a
sudden thought ? you said nothing of it in the letter you
wrote me last January."
" Well, it was and it wasn't. My partner wanted to estab-
lish an agency over here, so he made me come ; as I was a
London man, he thought I would manage better than him ;
and I never was so taken aback as when I found you were
away, wandering about with this infernal humbug of a widow."
Maggie looked up, startled at his language. Could this be
shy, silent " Cousin John," who hated and feared his step-
mother, and now stood there as though monarch of all he
surveyed ?
" I am sure if I had met you in Paris, Maggie, I should
not have known you. You are quite a tip-topper."
" Nor should I have known you, John, I'm sure. You have
grown so much, and have got quite old-looking. Has he not,
uncle ? "
" Yes, he is a strapping fellow," said the father proudly.
" Take some more beef, my dear ? "
"Here Dick Bell some of you cut Mag some more
beef ; and John seized her plate, without paying any attention
to her decided refusal. " You must be famished, and cut up
into the bargain. Here, Tom, shove yourself up a little
higher ; " and John seated himself opposite his cousin, whom
he regarded critically and with undisguised scrutiny, from the
neat frill of lace which finished her black silk dress at neck
and wrigts, to the little white hands that were crumbling her
THE WOOING O'Tl 209
bread in some confusion. " Why, you look as if you had
come out of a bandbox instead of a train ! You might be an
heiress, from your turn-out ! "
" Oh 1 " cried Tom, " you forget that Maggie's bargain with
the widow included her old clothes ; so you needn't wonder
at her finery," and that amiable youth looked to Jemima for
appreciation.
" Hold your tongue, you blockhead," said his elder brother,
angrily.
" Quite true, Tom," replied Maggie unmoved ; " and a
very good bargain it was for me, Her left-off garments were
very nice."
" Bravo, Mag, you are a trump ! ' cried John enchanted
with her coolness. " But as I was saying when you came in,
it was a d d shame to turn you adrift without due notice
or nothing, and such a shabby tip as five pounds."
" You mustn't expect every one to be as open-handed as
yourself," said Mrs. Grey with transparent flattery.
" Still, I owe Mrs. Berry a great deal," said Maggie, kindly.
" She has given me many advantages, and I am sure I
shall rind some employment as governess or companion very
soon."
" Well, we will see about that," said cousin John signifi-
cantly.
" You must have had lots of fun," cried Bell, " Used you
to go everywhere with Mrs. Berry ? "
" Not everywhere ; but to a great many places, particularly
in Paris. I am very sorry not to be there when you go "
(civilly to John), " for I might have been some use to you.
You are going over to-morrow, are you not ? "
" I am not sure about it."
Bell and her mother exchanged glances.
" You see, " continued John, " I have a good deal to look after.
There is my own business first, before everything ; and then
the governor here has got everything into a precious muddle
I'll be hanged if I ever saw anything like it. The missis "
(a nod to his step-mother) " is out o' sight the best man of
business of the two. He is quite unfit for London ; and I
think I am on the scent of a good concern down the country
proprietor dead and widow wants to part with it. It will
suit the governor to a T, if he will only sharpen up a little
and Dick will soon be a help to him. I expect they will pay
me a good percentage."
" I feel quite bewildered," said Maggie. " You seem to me,
14
tio THE WOOING O'T.
John, like some magician come to lift every one out of the
Slough of Despond, with a sort of ' hey Presto ! ' "
John laughed long and loud, enchanted with this echo of
his own opinion.
" You see," he returned, " I have been accustomed to put
my shoulder to the wheel, and it's a deuced rusty wheel I
couldn't turn ; so I hope I shall make them keep their heads
above water for the rest of their time. I am going to ship
off Tom here to-morrow."
Whereat Mrs. Grey put her handkerchief to her eyes.
" And Maggie," asked Jemima, " did you learn to play and
sing ? "
" To play, yes not to sing."
" Come now, do play us something, like a dear," ciied Bell.
" I would so like to hear, if you really can."
" Indeed, I am so very tired I should like to go to bed,"
urged Maggie, who felt completely worn out, and longing for
solitude and a good cry.
" Oh, you can stay up a little while," said Jemima. " It is
ever so long since we heard a note of music, though I do play
sometimes." So saying, she opened an old-fashioned upright
piano, and began to jingle a noisy galop.
" Oh Jemimy ! " cried Maggie, stopping her ears. " It is
frightfully out of tune. I really couldn't touch it."
" Set you up ! " laughed Bell.
" There there," said Cousin John, impatiently. " Don't
bother any more ; don't you see Maggie is tired out ? she has
turned as pale as a ghost."
" Well, get away with you, and settle Maggie's old room
the best way you can for her. We will make it better to-
morrow ; but I have heaps to do still before I go to bed, and
I cannot spare the ' gurl.' "
Maggie therefore said " Good-night," took a candle and
sallied into the hall. There the sight of her large box struck
her with dismay. Turning to the parlor again she said, " I
must ask some one to help me up with my box."
" Come along, I'm your man," said Cousin John. " Is this
it ? " He seized it, heaved it on his shoulder in the most
porter-like fashion, and went away rapidly aloft, Maggie fol-
lowing. " Your old quarters," he said, pausing at the door of
one of the garrets. " Yes," returned Maggie. He pushed
the door open and set down his burden. " What a shame to
put you in this desolate hole." (He did not offer to give up
his own room to her.) " Do you remember how I found you
THE WOOING 0*7! 211
crying here the day after my father brought you from Altring-
ham?'
" I do I do indeed," sighed Maggie, full of self-reproach ;
" and how good you were to me ! "
" You were always a little trump," returned Cousin John,
shaking her hand and gripping it painfully tight. " Come,
Mag, you must pay the porter," and he stooped to kiss her
again.
" Oh, no, John ! " cried Maggie, for this was more than she
could bear. " I hate kissing any one."
" Don't, if you don't like, then," said John, shortly, and
tramped away down stairs.
Maggie's waking next morning was a shade more cheerful
than her falling to sleep. It is true her eyes felt stiff and
sore from the long fit of weeping which ensued on finding
herself alone and in the dark. But " balmy sleep " had done
its usual beneficent work, and she was physically refreshed.
All was as yet quiet. The light which came through her un-
curtained window was faint, so she lay still and pondered
over the sudden transformation scene which had been enacted
yesterday. The ingredients of the dull aching pain that per-
vaded her whole being, as if a positive poison had been in-
troduced into every nerve of her system, were numerous and
complicated ; but the largest portion, perhaps, was due to the
sense of having fallen back into bondage and dependence
to a position which seemed to cut her off from all that made
life worth having. The place she held with Mrs. Berry was
certainly humble enough ; still she had grown to be of im-
portance to her patroness, and feeling this, she felt at home.
Mrs. Berry was commonplace, ignorant, ill-bred, but she had
been kind to Maggie, and still more, dependent on her ; and
oh ! what glimpses of delight did she not owe to that foolish,
deluded woman ! ' \
In the dim dawn of that foggy morning, through the dusk-
iness of that sordid, miserable garret, the light, and glitter,
and perfume of " the ball," the culminating glory of her life,
came back with all the fair}' loveliness which memory lends
her revivals of joy.
This and the like of it had passed away forever ! Never
again would such a voice as Trafford's hold pleasant converse
with her, or ask lier for a waltz with that vailed earnestness
she understood so well ; and then the waltz itself, and that
startling but delightful dinner, and ramble in the Bois de
ti2 THE WOOING O'T.
Boulogne ! Oh, she must not think of it. She wished she
had not gone. What madness and folly to remember all
this 1 Even alone, in the faint dawn, she blushed for herself.
It was so shameful to be thus fascinated by a man who, be-
yond all doubt, considered her beneath him socially, even if
she were not too ill-educated and insignificant to attract him
personally. And yet, come what might, he did like to be
with her and to talk to her ; he took some special interest in
her, and at any rate spared her all foolish compliments or in-
solent love-making. Yet what could hold Geoffrey Trafford
back from doing as he liked ? He could only have thought
of her as a pleasant, good little girl ; something higher than
a housemaid. " While I allow this man to fill up my heart
no, not my heart, my fancy," she said indignantly to herself.
" What a shame ! I will put him away and trample out such
weakness. I have my own life to live, independent of him.
Why should I let a shadow spoil it ? And I am sure it does
not promise so much brightness that I can afford to be un-
necessarily miserable. Oh, how I wish I could fall in love
with Cousin John ! I would try hard if he were anything
like what I expected that would cure me. But he is so so
very dreadful ! "
At this point of her reflections the voice of Mrs Grey
was heard, as if from her chamber, shouting shrill instruc-
tions to " the gurl ; " and distant slamming of doors echoed
from below.
" I must get up," said Maggie to herself. " I suppose they
will breakfast early because Tom is going away." The inter-
val of dressing was also busily employed, but by more prac-
tical cogitations. First, there was poor Mrs. Berry, now La
Comtesse De Bragance. Maggie could have cried to think
of her alone, and in the power of that sneering French devil.
Yes, she must make her way to see Mr. Dunsford, and ascer-
tain if anything could be done to help her ; for the time would
soon come when she would want help ; and then it would
surely not be selfish in her to mention her own wants, for
Mrs. Berry told her in her hurry yesterday that he would give
her a character, and she must lose no time in endeavoring to
find employment. She was quite sure her aunt did not want
to take her away into the country, and London was the place
for such a quest as hers.
When Maggie came down Mrs. Grey and " the gurl " were
the only members of the family afloat. Her aunt's curls
were not yet released from their nocturnal prison of papers ;
THE WOO INC- O'T. 21 j
a. dingy dressing-gown, a knitted woolen " crossover " tied
behind, a face that had evidently bent over the smoky begin-
nings of the kitchen fire, and was further blurred by occa-
sional tear-drops, removed with the back of the hand or the
ever-ready and grimy duster this sounds like a very unat-
tractive exterior. Yet never had Aunt Grey seemed so lovely
to Maggie before. Her hard features had softened into a
wistful expression, her keen eyes were dimmed with natural
moisture, for her precious boy the one bloom, the one ten-
derness of her nigged character was about to leave her and
plunge into the darkness of an unknown world.
" Maggie, would you mind dusting the parlor and putting
it straight ? You see," (with a pathetic snuffle) " poor Tom
wants his breakfast early to go to the Docks, and John will
expect everything in order, though it was the middle of the
night."
In deep amazement at her aunt's change of tone toward
her step-son, Maggie exclaimed with alacrity, "Yes, to be
sure I will. Give me the duster ; and don't fret about Tom,
aunt. Though of course it is very hard to part with him.
Think what a good opening this situation is for him."
" Opening, indeed ! " returned Mrs. Grey, in a mysterious
tone of dissatisfaction. " He is that clever that he'd soon
have made an opening here if he had had a chance ; but
never mind you go up stairs, my dear."
So Maggie went, and soon imparted a new aspect to the
room, which looked quite revived when " the gurl " came slowly
in with an alarming jingle a heavily laden tray in her out-
stretched hands, and the table cloth in a tight roll under her
arm.
" If you leave those things Twill lay the breakfast table,"
said Maggie briskly she was so thankful to be busy,
" I'm sure, 'm, I am ever so much obliged to you," said
" slavey," and vanished.
The process of " laying the cloth" was not quit* completed
when a heavy shuffling was heard in the passage, and then
John's voice shouted down the kitchen stairs. " I say, why the
deuce haven't you brought my boots up ? I left them in the
hall last night on purpose to remind you ; but you have no
more head than" (unintelligible grumble), and enter John,
without a collar, in a pair of highly objectionable leather
slippers, rubbed a dirty white, through one of which the brown
toe of a woolen sock was distinctly visible.
" Maggie," he c""^. not abashed that did not seem possi-
314 THE WOOING O'T.
ble-- but a little put out. " Why, I thought we should not se
you these hours. You looked so dead-beat last night, I
thought you'd want twenty-four hours' sleep at least. Come,
let's have a look at you. You don't seem as if you had had
rest enough yet."
" Oh, I am all right this morning," she returned, extricating
her hand from his grasp.
" Are you doing that d d stupid girl's work here ? By Jove,
it is to bad ! "
' Why," asked Maggie, still busying herself about the table.
" You know I am no stranger here ; and it would ill become
me to sit idle in Uncle Grey's house."
" You are a regular little brick ; you always were," contin-
ued John, taking up a position on the hearth-rug, whence he
gazed admiringly on his cousin, wondering dimly what it was
that made her such a dainty creature, differing from all other
women that he had ever met.
" And you are glad to see cousin John once more ? "
" Indeed I am," replied Maggie, hastily furbishing up her
gratitude to simulate her cordiality. " I should be very good
for nothing if I were not."
" Did you get the letter I wrote you let me see last Jan-
uary ? "
" Yes, I did," returned Maggie, smiling, as she remembered
that famous epistle, and sighing to think of how and why her
ideas had developed so largely since. " I got it in Paris."
" And why didn't you write ? "
" I did. I did indeed ; but not immediately."
" Hum ! More interesting employment or amusement ? "
" Employment, plenty. Mrs. Berry did not let me eat the
bread of idleness, though she was very good."
" At any rate you've not learned to be a fine lady. It
does one's heart good to see you bustling about.
" Yes," said Maggie, iiresistibly impelled to put him down.
I have so far learned to be fine, that I don't like to see gentle*
men especially young gentlemen in their slippers, and with-
out their collars in the morning."
" Why, that's a downer for me ! Well, Mag, I wish
you would make that lazy, ill-conditioned, stupid girl bring me
my boots."
" Poor thing, why abuse her ? Think of all she has to do.
No, Cousin John, kind old friend as you are, I will not look
alter your boots, though I will gladly lay my uncle's break-
THE WOOING O'T. 215
fast-table. Go, get them yourself, and then dress, like a good
boy"
She spoke with a pleasant smile and pretty little nod. But
John did not like it. His overweening estimate of himself
was " roughed" by her remarks, and he went sulkily out of the
room. At the door he stumbled over the desired boots, and
went moodily away to " dress," as his cousin his intended
protegee little Mag, who was to be lifted out of her Cinderella
condition by the might of his will, had told him.
The family now came dropping in. Tom last or last but
one, if we count the re-appearance of John in*a slightly im-
proved toilet ; and the conversation became general, if the
universal clatter in which no one listened to the other can be
so dignified. Tom, whose spiiits were wild from the sense
of being out of debt and danger, little heeded his mother's
tears. The prospect of new scenes and amusements left
little room for regret. Dick was unfeignedly pleas.ed at the
departure of his brother. Jemima slightly regreted it; it
looked like separation from the fascinating Fred Banks. The
father, wrapped up in his eldest son, was indifferent.
"Well, John," asked the head of the house, "will you go
over to Paris to-night ? "
" I am not quite sure. I will see Tom off, and then make
up my mind."
" I thought you were quite determined," said Mrs. Grey.
" You were wrong, then."
" Is it not unusual for a ship to start on Sunday ? " asked
Maggie.
" Not at all," replied Cousin John. " Sailors like it ; and
Tom, we had better be off soon she'll be out of dock, I'm
thinking, early."
" Dear, dear," said the mother; "don't they wait for pas-
sengers at Gravesend ? Mightn't Tom go down to-morrow ? "
" If you choose to stand his rail fare and mine, there and
back ; for, remember, I'll see him on board, and it will take
the change out ot a couple of sovereigns."
John spoke in what seemed to Maggie, fresh from inter-
course with Trafford and even De Bragance, whose insolence
was always polished a savage tone.
" If his mother wishes to keep him with her another day "
began the kind old chemist.
" D it, governor," interrupted John, roughly. " You
had better recollect whether you have any money to spare, or
any you can call your own."
8l6 THE WOOING O'T.
Maggie instinctively drew nearer to her uncle, as if to pro*
tect him, and looked in his face to see how he bore such inso-
lence. It pained her to see the distressed guilty look that
stole over his gentle, worn, countenance ; and she could not
keep her eyes from flashing a glance of angry remonstrance
straight into her cousin's, as he sat opposite. John sat on for
awhile, unmoved by looks or silence for the sublime disap-
probation of the general benefactor had rather an intimidating
effect on the company. And then with a kindly smile in his.
eyes and Maggie admitted to herself that he had a pleasant,
honest smile exclaimed disrespectfully, but genially :
" Never mind, old boy. You are going to make a lot of tin,
you know, in the new business, and pay me cent per cent."
Mr. Grey smiled a somewhat sickly smile ; and Maggie saw
how hard it is to skin over the wounds which hasty words
inflict.
" Oh I we had better be off," cried Tom. " Where's the
use of waiting ? "
" Better bear the wrench at once, aunt," said Maggie kind-
ly ; " it would be just as bad to-morrow. You see he is quite
happy, naturally, to go away into the world."
And then every one rose and for twenty minutes or so
confusion dire reigned throughout the entire establishment.
Parcels left at the top of the house were remembered spas-
modically. Boxes were fastened, and then re-opened to
receive some article of the last necessity. Dick was eagerly
dispatched for a cab and then frantically recalled and Maggie
thought of similar bouleversement which distinguished her own
and Mrs. Berry's departure more than two years before.
At last the three young men departec 1 . Mrs. Grey retired
down stairs, and quiet once more was restored. It was not
quite so dreadful that Sunday as Maggie anticipated. John
did not return till tea time, and after the early dinner Mrs.
Grey went up to her room. The young ladies, with Dick,
went out to walk, and Maggie had a long, confidential talk
vrith her uncle.
The evening was well disposed of by going to hear a popu
lar preacher, and Maggie, after her long absence from England,
enjoyed the service of a genuine English church.
" I must make my way to the city to-morrow," said Maggie,
after supper, addressing her aunt. " I want to see Mr. Duns-
ford, Mrs. Berry's solicitor, and I do not like to go quite
alone ; will you allow Bell or Jemima to come with me ? "
** /will go with you. I am the proper person to go."
THE WOOING c/7! 2l
-v
Cousin John, resolutely. He had not escorted the young
lad&es to church, preferring avowedly to stay at home and
smoke.
" Thank you," returned Maggie, seeing there was no escape.
4 if you can spare the time ; but you are so busy."
" I shall manage it," said John.
Monday was a dark day with a drizzling rain just enough
to make the street slippery and unpleasant. And Maggie,
with a sinking heart prepared to accompany Cousin John to
Mr. Dunsford's office. She could not help fancying that
highly respectable man of business would somehow hold her
responsible for Mrs. Berry's matrimonial follies ; on two or
three occasions he had written to her on Mrs. Berry's affairs,
and always conveyed the idea that he looked to her as a sort
of brains-carrier. On the whole she was rather glad Cousin
John had offered to go with her, for whatever his faults, he
would let no mortal man brow-beat him, or anything belonging to
him, she felt sure. Her gladness, however, was a little damped
when, after an elaborate toilet, John sallied forth like a bride-
groom out of his chamber, and certainly, on that day, rejoicing
to run his course. His trousers, of a large check pattern in
light and dark shades of brown, conveyed the painful impres-
sion of being conspicuously patched on the knees ; moreover, a
broad, brown stripe down the outsides further distinguished
them. A brown and blue speckly waistcoat, well opened, to
show a reckless display of white shirt-front, a light-blue satin
tie, with long ends drawn through a massive-gold ring, and a
bran-new dark-blue frock-coat, which hung straight down from
his shoulders, innocent of any sartorial art to make it fit the
bend of the back, completed his costume.
He was in the act of removing the silver paper from a
glossy hat when Maggie came in.
"Well," said John, looking at her admiringly; "I hope I
am got up smart enough to please you ? You must not think
I have no clothes to wear."
" Oh, no ! I am sure you are very smart, indeed," cried
Maggie, a little touched by his simple vanity, and despairing
any reformation in his taste.
" That's right," he returned, evidently pleased at her verdict.
" And now come along ; if it was not for your black dress
we might be taken for a bride and bridegroom."
So saying he marched off, leaving her to follow.
The streets being rather slipper}', Cousin John insisted on
218 THE WOOING O'T.
piloting his cousin from the corner where the 'busses passed,
to the step of one of the vehicles, by grasping her upper arm
tightly in his large strong hand, till the tender flesh and veins
felt crushed and sore.
" You hurt me, pray let go my arm, " she urged, and the
next moment found herself nearly lifted into the 'bus. It
was with a sensation almost of thankfulness that she observed
John compelled to sit at the door while she found a place at
the other end.
It was a long journey, however, and before it was more
than half accomplished, the shifting company had changed
frequently, and enabled cousin John to place himself next to
his protegee,
' I say, what a delicate concern you are, Maggie ! You
can't bear to be touched. I hope you haven't turned cantank-
erous you didn't used to be."
" Indeed I am not," smiling pleasantly ; " but you really did
hurt me : you don't know how hard you hold."
" Do I ? " said John, with a complaisant laugh like all men
of his stamp, he was quite proud of his physical strength.
" I must remember you are a tender article, in future."
Maggie shook her head, in token of declining conversation
at the pitch required in an omnibus, and John found a con-
genial spirit in an opposite neighbor, a stout man, regardless
of his H's, with whom he shouted a profound discussion on
the increase of the bank rate and its probable effect upon
railway stock.
On arriving at Mr. Dunsf ord's office they found that gentle-
man had not yet come in, and a weary interval of waiting
ensued.
John fretted at being kept, yet would not hear of leaving
Maggie alone ; he walked about the room and read the pro-
spectuses of insurance and other companies, which hung
framed and glazed upon the wall , he drummed upon the win-
dow and look at his watch.
"What hours for a fellow to keep ! He can be no great man
of business, not to be at his office by eleven. I have fifty places
to go to, and I'll be late for them all."
"Then pray leave me here! do not wait," said Maggie,
who felt painfully nervous at he idea of the coming interview,
and was still more unnerved by John's impatience.
" No I shall not leave you to be humbugged and bullied
by this lawyer fellow. Why, you are as pale as a ghost at the
THE WOOING O'T. 219
idea of it ! What a little coward you are," sitting down beside
her ; " and yet you have a sort of pluck, too."
" A very curious sort, I am afraid. Still I am not quite a,
coward."
"Mr. Dunsford will see you now," said a clerk looking into
the dingy room in which they were incarcerated.
John Grey jumped up and led the way, and Maggie came
trembling after.
Deep and dire was Mr. Dunsford's anger when Maggie,
with no small difficulty, managed to inform him of poor Mrs.
Berry's fatal marriage. Though a cool, self-contained man
of business, he could not refrain from muttering the word
" idiot," under his breath.
" And when did this precious marriage take place ? "
" On Saturday," said Maggie, almost tearful at the magni-
tude of the misfortune ; while Cousin John, who had not
removed his hat, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking
out sharply for an opportunity of interfering, and watching
Maggie's distressed face.
" And pray why didn't you write and let me know what was
going on, Miss Grey ? From all I have known of you your
letters, and the way you kept Mrs. Berry's accounts I really
thought you a very sensible conscientious person. You ought
to have let me know."
" But, Mr. Dunsford, I could not possibly interfere. I
begged and implored Mrs. Berry not to commit herself too
far until she had consulted you, and she promised me faith-
fully she would not. We were coming to London to see you
and have everything properly settled, when we met the count
at Dover, and that morning she went out with him ; I had
not the most remote idea she was gone to be married ; but I
begin to think now they must have settled it all before the
count left Paris."
" Highly probable," said the lawyer, dryly.
" The young lady is a trifle green, sir," put in John.
Mr. Dunsford looked at him over his spectacles, but made
no reply.
" I am surprised Mrs. Berry has not written to you," said
Maggie.
" She waited to let you break the news. Where is she and
her precious count to be found ? "
" I have not an idea. She said she was going back to the
Continent with her husband, and that she would write to me."
"She is sure to write to me," rejoined Mr. Dunsford, "as
EO THE WOOfNG O'T.
all her property is in my hands, and monsieur is sure to want
to finger some of it before long. However, when she givej
me a chance to tell her so, I will wash my hands of her. 1
had a great respect for poor Mr. Berry (who always seemed a
a sensible man till he met her), and I promised him to take
care of her as far as I could ; but now I shall certainly wash
my hands of her."
" Oh, pray do not say that, Mr. Dunsford ! " cried Maggie
imploringly. " She will want your help sorely yet. Mon-
sieur De Bragance will spend her money, and ill-treat her,
and leave her to die or starve if he cannot kill her safely.
You must try to keep back a little of her money for her.
After all, she is only silly not wicked."
" Wickedness is seldom so severely punished as folly," said
the lawyer, cooly ; " and I must say I hoped greatly that you
would have helped to keep her straight."
" I tried all I could," returned Maggie, unconsciously
clasping her hands ; " but, you see, I was too insignificant to
have much influence, though she was venfi, very kind to me."
"And how the deuce," exclaimed John, " could you expect
a widow with well-lined pockets to mind such a chit as
this ? "
" Perhaps not perhaps not," said Mr. Dunsford, looking
kindly at Maggie. " But from all I can gather, I believe you
were a very pleasant and useful companion ; and I hope my
very foolish client did not fail to acknowledge your services
properly."
"Ay ! to the extent of a 'fi-pund note ' and her blessing," put
in John ; " though she was sent adrift in the middle of a
quarter, weren't you, Megf "
" Oh, John ! Mrs. Berry and I were on those terms "
" She had a right to cheat you, I suppose," interrupted
John. " I leave it to you, sir, if this was fair."
" Not handsome treatment, by any means, and I am afraid
I can do you no good."
"Thank you," said Maggie, hesitating; I think perhaps
you could ; for, as I must endeavor to find some other
employment, and I cannot apply to Mrs. Berry until I know
where to find her, perhaps you wouldn't mind that is you
would be so good as to let me refer to you ! You might say
that I lived with Mrs. Berry, and that she was satisfied and
all that.
" 1 have no objection to do so. I shall be very happy also
THE WOOING ffT. i
to mention you to my daughter, who might possibly hear of
something to suit you."
" You are very good,'' replied Maggie, gratefully : adding
in a timid voice, as if half afraid to obtrude her poor little
affairs upon so great a man, " Would you advise me to put an
advertisement in the Times ? "
" This young lady is so desperate independent she can't
bear to stay even for a week or two with her own uncle," said
John, facetiously ; adding, with an air of insufferable patron-
age, " if she would only wait a bit, I think I know a place
that would suit her exactly."
" Every one knows their own wants and wishes best,"
returned Mr. Dunsford, rising. " I dare say an advertise-
ment might bring you some chance, but I would not advise
your putting it in until the end of August, when people are
returning to town. Meantime I will mention you to my
daughter, and a leave me your address."
Maggie had it written on a card, and gave it to him.
" Ah ! Beverly Street," he said ; " the same place where
Mrs. Berry found you very well. I shall not forget good-
morning."
" Now, John, I can release you, and I am sure I am so
much obliged to you," said Maggie, as they found themselves
in the street a narrow, little, dusky street near Doctors-Com-
mons.
" Never mind, you'll want something to eat, so come along ;
we'll look for a cake shop, or a luncheon bar, or something."
" Oh, no ! thank you. I couldn't eat anything ; just show
me where I shall find an omnibus ; that's all I want."
" But I say you must have something ! It will be all hours
when you get back, and I'd like to see the missus order up
anything for you after dinner's gone. No, no, Mag ! you
shan't starve while you are with me ; besides, I want to eat
myself."
He was still kind and considerate for her, while she,
ingrate that she was, could not keep out of her memory and
her heart another voice oh! how different in tone and
accent ! a voice so soft, so varied in modulation, with a ring
of power in it, and which had addressed almost the same
words to her scarce four weeks ago ! But she felt she was in
cousin John's hands she must do what seemed good in his
eyes. So they went into a huge cake shop at the top of Lud-
gate Hill, with a dusky floor strewn with flakes of pastry and
fragments of buns, where at a grimy little marble table, alJ
222 THE WOOING O'T.
stained with rings of porter and drops of sherbet, she strove
diligently to consume a veal and ham pie ; while John, with
much satisfaction, devoured two, and washed them down with
a glass of brandy and water.
" I don't feel at all inclined to let you go," said John, as he
came out of the cake shop triumphant. " What a pity we
didn't tell them not to expect us back, we might have dined
somewhere and gone to the theater."
" I do not think it would quite do, John."
" Why not ? not proper ? Why, you and I are like brother
and sister, ain't we, Mag ? "
" Oh, yes, indeed," cried Maggie, delighted to accept the
relationship. " I am sure no brother could be kinder and
truer than you are, dear John."
" Well, as you must go, here's a 'bus take care of yourself
good-bye," and with a squeeze of the hand that left Mag-
gie's tingling, John turned, and was lost in the crowd.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE weeks which ensued, while Maggie waited for the
season prescribed by Mr. Dunsford as most suited for her
advertisement, were about the most unpleasant, though not
the saddest, of her young and troubled life. Nothing of after
years ever equaled the agony and desolation which fell upon
her when her mother died. Nor did any bitterness enter her
soul so deeply as the insults and tyrannies she sustained from
her aunt ; but this early autumn of her third year's emanci-
pation was tormented by a perpetual struggle in heart and
mind a constant maintaining of the lines within which
reason, sorely beset by the overwhelming forces of imagina-
tion, memory, taste, and tenderness, had entrenched herself
and, indeed, it pleases me to think how gallantly and true
to her higher instincts my modest little heroine carried herself
all through the silent strife, without one word of sympathy or
help. Nothing but the honest woman pride to keep her from
sinking into despondency, sentimentalism, or bad health!
Simply the instinctive consciousness that she must not, in a
matter such as this, give more than she received. And
although it may militate against her character as a heroine,
and prove her too reasonable to be interesting, I must be
veracious, and, moreover, avow my conviction that such a
THE WOOING OT. 223
struggle is certain of success, and brings after it strength
and peace. Maggie began to experience this before many
months were over ; but I must not anticipate, and only set
this down for the encouragement of young ladies whose affec-
tions have wandered to objects who do not want them. The
sweetest, the most modest girl, may find herself on the verge
of, or in, such a predicament ; but to a true womanly woman
such a wound carries its own cure.
One thing comforted Maggie. It was John's assurance,
after they finished those mutton pies, that they were to be
like brother and sister. She smiled at her own conceit as she
remembered the horror and alarm with which she received
his first advances to a renewal of their old and familiar
acquaintance. " I must not be so silly as to imagine every
one who is kind must be in love with me," she said to her-
self. " I am sure I can be very fond of John, if he will be
just like a brother." But even as a brother she could not
feel toward him as she wished to do. He was so rough and
untidy ; he used the authority which success and experience
had given so ruthlessly, albeit for the general good ; he was
so unsparing of his father's weakness, of his sisters' follies,
and far, far too sympathetic with Mrs. Grey, in her business-
like hardness though he frequently administered a moral
squeeze to her also, just to show her she must not presume.
Then the terribly ugly aspect of the house was another
unconfessed worry to Maggie, who loved prettiness and
neatness. With Mrs. Berry, all minor matters were in her
own hands, and their rooms were always gracefully arranged
and scrupulously clean.
However, John's intense energy left no one too much time
to think. He was always at work himself, and making others
work. " Here Mag ! " he cried one morning, a few weeks
after their visit to Dunsford's office ; " I wish you and Bell
all of you would set to work and make an inventory of
every stick in the house. Begin right away at the iop, and
call those rat-holes attics, d'ye mind ? "
" What in the world do you want that for, John ? " asked
Bell, as discontentedly as she dared.
" I want it done, and that ought to be enough for you,"
returned John, helping himself a second time to the bacon
and poached eggs, served especially for him, and which he
failed not to appropriate. " But Mag, you know, if we arrange
about this business for the governor at Ditton Market, we'll
have an auction of everything here, and an inventory all
24 THE WOOING OT.
ready will be a save and a gain both ; so see about it, like a
good girl."
" I will," said Maggie, readily.
" And do you really think you will be able to manage this
matter ? " asked Mr. Grey.
" Yes, I will ; the more I inquire into it, the better it seems.
But mark you, I'll have to borrow some of the money, so you
must make it pay, by jingo ! or I'll be coming back to know
the reason why there, Dick, there's a bit of bacon I can't
manage."
Dick was not proud and accepted it.
" And I say, governer, you and I had better run down to
look at the place ; it will be the right thing, and rouse you up
a bit. I expect the country will freshen you wonderfully."
" Indeed, I was always partial to the country, John, and
your conduct gives me new life and energy."
" I hope so," returned the son ; "I am sure you want
both."
" If you had found them a little sooner," grumbled Mrs.
Grey, " we might have had a nourishing business here, and
there's no place like London, after all."
" Oh, stop that ! " cried John, rising. " Nagging never
raised a man's spirit yet. I wish I could find a straight-
forward, pushing young man with a trifle of ready rhino, for
a partner in the concern. Dick here isn't old enough to be
of much use."
" How do you know ? " said Dick. " I can roll pills like
anything."
" We'll have my father up for manslaughter, if you go
rolling your pills down people's throats," returned the family
benefactor.
" Then you are not going to Paris ? "
" I have other fish to fry other employment for my
capital," said John ,- " besides" as he left the room " it
was Maggie, here, I wanted to see, and she has saved me the
journey. Now, gals, don't you forget the inventory ! "
True to his intention, John carried his father away to the
new Eldorado a few days after.
" Much good 'he will do, there," grumbled Mrs. Grey to her
daughters. Now, if I had gone, there would have been some
sense in it. I could see with half an eye whether the place
would answer or not ; but of course John knows best ! "
The eagle eye of John being removed, the Demoiselles
Grey left the task of the inventor) 7 to Maggie's unassisted
THE WOOING OT. 225
efforts. She accordingly progressed all the better ; while her
cousins divided their time between making up smart autumn
garments, and exhibiting the same in the park and elsewhere.
The captivating Fred Banks, too, appeared, to comfort
Mrs. Grey with sympathy anent the absent Tom and
consoling prophecies respecting the certainty of his coming
out first-rate " a regular topsawyer," or as Dick rudely
paraphrased it, " a top sawbones."
Jemima was consequently in a state of beatitude, and both
young ladies, who had always been tolerant of their cousin,
now regarded her with positive liking, so kindly and useful
did they find her in lending patterns, in cutting out and fitting
in. And then Mrs, Grey had been tempted to have the old
piano tuned, because Maggie promised to help Bell with her
practising. So when Uncle Grey and John returned, which
they did in a state of much contentment, Maggie was able to
relieve the tedium of the evening by singing and playing
simple melodies, which delighted the chemist's soul, and
even had charms to soothe John's savage breast.
Thus Maggie multiplied occupation to herself, and the
weeks flew over ; still Mrs. Berry made no sign.
By her aunt's advice, Maggie went nearly every morning to
a neighboring news-agent, where she read the advertisement
sheet of the Times dilligently, and even answered two or
three, but with no result ; the only answer she received being
from a pious lady, who wished to give a happy home to some
evangelical young person, who would in return undertake the
education of nine young souls, ranging from twelve to three
years of age.
John growled and laughed at this while he rather annoyed
Maggie that same evening by suddenly kissing her when
saying good-night. Even had she time she would hardly
have liked to refuse. Yet it was singularly unpleasant to her ;
so much so that she took herself to task for over-fastidious-
ness, ingratitude, and a dozen other errors of nature, before
she could dismiss it from her mind.
However, there was not now much time for thought, for
having completed all his arrangements with the fast son and
heir of the late chemist at Ditton Market, who longed to
finger the cash for the excellent bargain he was bestowing on
the incoming tenant, John, to use his own expression, turned
all hands to clear the decks. The inventory was found
complete. Mother and girls were sent to pack up their
belongings; and John himself, with Maggie's help, set
220 THE WOOING O'T.
diligently at work to make up the " governor's " books, and
gather together what he could of the small amounts due.
Then the auction was organized confusion and discomfort
had almost reached their culminating point ; poor Maggie
nervous at the idea of leaving London and the chances of
employment behind her, yet shrunk from intruding her affairs
on any one in such a supreme moment, especially as she had
no plan to offer was therefore infinitely relieved when on6
evening, after cogitating in his father's arm-chair for some
time in silence, John suddenly spake.
" I have been thinking it won't do for you all to leave this
on Wednesday. I can see after everything when the auction
is over ; and I'll be deuced uncomfortable in a lodging all by
myself. I tell you what you'll do," to his step-mother ;
" leave Mag and Bell behind ! Mag's a capital clerk first-
rate and no mistake, and Bell well, we'll make some use
of her at any rate, one room will do for the two gals, and it
will be the same cost."
" Oh, John," put in Jemima, " can't you let me stay ? "
"No! I won't, miss," replied her brother; "you are no
use at all ! But that's the plan, ma'am." No question asked
as to the inclination of the individuals destined to carry out
Cousin John's immutable decrees.
" I shall be glad to stay, on account of putting in my
advertisement," said Maggie ; " and I shall also be glad to be
of any use."
" Use ! Why, you are the most useful little brick I ever
met with," said John, enthusiastically. " I say, governor, she
would give her skin for you ; though I don't think she cares
much for any of the rest of us. Now, then, gals, you start
to-morrow morning and find a lodging for us nice tidy
rooms, five and twenty shillings a week, not a rap more. And
if you look sharp and keep me right down comfortable, I'll be
whipped if I don't take you to the theatre now and then
but you must earn it 1 "
" Agreed ! " said Maggie, laughing. " We will be dili-
gent, and you must be reasonable."
" So I am always reasonable, you monkey ! " retorted
John, pinching her ear with a familiarity she could not
resent. And with a huge yawn he marched away to bed.
It was altogether like a hurried dream Uncle and Aunt
Grey being uprooted and transplanted; Maggie could
scarcely imagine London without them. However, the dream
was fulfilled, and one fine morning, about two months after
THE WOOING VT. 227
her parting with Mrs. Berry, she found herself in charge of
Cousin John's luggage, her own, and Bell's, in a tolerably
neat lodging in one of the small streets that lead from the
Edgeware Road. It will, probably, further militate against
our little heroine's character, as a heroine, rf it is stated that
she rather enjoyed being mistress and manager. She was
too thorough a woman not to enjoy household work. To
obtain the nicest and freshest goods at the most moderate
price ^-to bestow a look of comfort and prettiness on the
rooms which her little party occupied, to save some trifle in
essentials to expend on ornament these were her ambitions ;
and although Bell considered her a fidget, and John was only
half alive to the results of her exertions, the success was its
own reward.
" I wish," she thought, " I might be housekeeper to John.
I might civilize him a little, and be tolerably useful ; but, of
course, it would not be proper."
For habit works wonders, and though John was still very
dreadful in many ways, the keenness of her first impression
had worn off ; especially as she felt that, however familiar,
even to disrespect, he might be, her opinions always had a
certain weight with him. What most revolted her was his
irrepressible purse-pride his obtrusive consciousness of
success. Still she was very thankful he had kept her in
London, and as soon as the business connected with the
auction was over, she would write her advertisement and set
to work for herself.
The first day at her disposal, she set forth to ascertain
from Mr. Dunsford if he had heard from Mrs. Berry, as she
had firmly believed that lady would have written to her before
this ; and she feared her poor friend's evil days had begun
even sooner than she had anticipated.
On this occasion, however, Maggie determined to dispense
with Cousin John's escort, and therefore permitted him to
depart without mentioning her intentions. Breakfast had
been to his liking, and he lit the short pipe he persisted in
smoking, in great good humor.
" Now, girls, I must say I think you have done capital, so
far, and not asked for much money either. Have tea half an
hour earlier, and I'll take you to the Princess. We can walk
there and back too ; and I say, Bell, you are in great luck,
for I dare say you've done precious little toward the general
good."
" Yes, indeed she has," cried Maggie, vexed that Joha
228 THE WOOING O'T.
should mortify his sister. " Our work and success is a joint-
stock concern, only, we hope, unlimited."
" You are a brick, Maggie ! I always said so ; and now I
wouldn't mind giving you a kiss in token of my brotherly ap-
probation."
" No, thank you. Not when you are smoking, certainly/'
in a displeased tone.
" Of all the stand-off little devils I ever met, Mag, you are
the stand-offest ! Here, Bell ! brush my hat, will you ? "
As Maggie communed with herself for this can be accom-
plished amid the rattle of an omnibus as well as in the still-
ness of one's own chamber she felt how ardently she longed
to escape from her present surroundings. " If," she thought,
" I could find some nice old lady in delicate health, who
would grow fond of me, and confide her early griefs and
trials to me, how delightful it would be ! Or two or three
sweet little girls, somewhere in the country, with a charming,
sensible mamma ! " so ran her reveries ; for with all her prac-
ticality in action, Maggie was an imaginative, romantic little
goose in many ways ; and the prospect of having some one
to lavish affection upon was too delightful to put out of sight
altogether. " I wonder," began her brain afresh, " If Mr.
Trafford remembered to mention me to Lady Torchester. I
think he would remember a promise ; but I am glad she
never wrote ; I do not want to have anything mofe to do with
great people. Yet, oh ! how glad I should be to see Lord
Torchester? What a nice, honest, kind creature he was.
How could I have ever thought him like Cousin John ? He
was so modest and simple. What would John be were he as
great a person as Lord Torchester ? But then everything
would be different. How rough and presumptuous he is !
Had I been a princess, Mr. Trafford could not have been
more deferential to me ; but he is unlike every one else, and
I must not think of him."
" Lady for St. Paul's Churchyard," said the conductor, and
Maggie got out.
Mr. Dunsford was in, and received her at once this time.
He had heard from Mrs. Berry, or Madame De Bfagance,
and a very unsatisfactory letter she had written. She stiffly
announced her marriage, and directed Mr. Dunsford to sell
out a thousand pounds India Railway Stock, as M. De Bra-
gance had a better investment for it ; and, moreover, ordered
that all stocks standing in her name should be changed into
that of De Bragance. She had written from Florence, and
THE WOOING O'T. 229
on Mr. Dunsford writing to remonstrate with her, she had re-
plied by a sharp and decided dismissal. She further directed
that his account should be sent in, and all her papers, etc.
handed over to another solicitor named in her letter, etc.
Mr. Dunsford was even now engaged in this operation, and
so cross under the infliction, that poor Maggie dared not ful-
fil her intention of asking him if it was now time to adver-
tise ; so she soon retreated, much mortified to find thai
Madame De Bragance had not even mentioned her name.
As she walked along, sad enough, she was startled by a
strong grasp laid upon her shoulder ; turning, she looked into
Cousin John's eyes.
" Why, what the deuce are you scheming after, Madame
Mag ? " cried he, drawing her hand through his arm, and
squeezing it close to his side. " You never told me a word
of your intending to visit the city. Where have you been ? "
" To Mr. Dunsford's," returned Maggie, considerably
annoyed at this encounter. " I did not tell you, because
I knew it would only waste your time to come with me."
" Look here," said John, " I have cleared off my morning's
work, and I'll just go straight back with you. We'll take a
Piccadilly 'bus, get out at Hyde Park corner, and have a
walk in the park. We'll be as jolly as sand-boys ; come
along ; " and John's face, so far as it was visible through the
red hair that encumbered it, shone with glee.
It was a clear bright day, crisp with the first faint frosti-
ness that sometimes tinges the days of September, and yet,
though considerably liable to skyey influences, Maggie could
not raise her spirits. The feeling of her own helplessness
and isolation pressed heavily upon her, and John's jovial
patronage and cousinly familiarity humiliated her unreasona-
bly.
The park was empty, of course ; a rare equestrian or two
dotted the row, and decided John as to the direction they
should take.
" Come along, Mag, we will have a look at the horses. I
used to stick on pretty well myself, at the Cape, and I know
a good horse when I see one, /can tell you. I took to rid-
ing quite natural. Do you think you would have pluck
enough to mount a horse, Maggie ? "
" Yes, of course I should, if it was quiet," said Maggie,
her thoughts flying back to the last proposition respecting
horse exercise that had been made to her.
John talked of his own exploits, and how he had ridden to
230 THE WOOING O'T.
this station and the other Kraal. He laughed at some of the
stout old " buffers " who were pounding along for exercise
conscientiously on powerful cobs, bearing strong resemblance
*o their riders. At last he exclaimed, "There, that fellow
oticks on capital."
The man he remarked had already caught Maggie's atten-
tion. He was mounted on a large handsome chestnut, which
appeared possessed of the bad temper with which chestnuts
are generally credited. But the fiery animal had met his
master. In vain he plunged, and reared, and bolted; his
rider sat unmoved ; and finally horse and horseman disap-
peared on a gallop.
Although the rider's back had been to them, there was
something familiar to Maggie's eye in his figure and carriage,
nay, even in the back of his hat ; for, let sceptics scoff if they
will, there is individuality even in the back of a man's hat.
" I fancy he has learnt to ride in some of the colonies,"
said John.
" I am sure he has not," returned Maggie, somewhat ag-
gressively.
" Why, I would like to know ? "
" Oh, I cannot tell ; only he is so well dressed, and looks
like a gentleman."
" Do you know, Mag, though you keep it to yourself, I be-
gin to think you are a conceited monkey ? Why shouldn't
gentlemen go to the colonies and come out of them too ? "
" Of course they may. I know nothing about it."
" What has vexed you ? I think you are a trifle cantank-
erous."
" I don't intend to be so. Perhaps I am a little put out,
because Mrs. Berry never mentioned me in her letter, not
once ; and it is sad to be forgotten."
" Pooh ! " replied John. " Don't you fret about that old
cat ; there are better people left to care for you. Where is
she ? "
Maggie told him all she had learned from Mr. Dunsford,
as they strolled slowly along ; and John made uncomplimen-
tary comments, and Maggie still felt and seemed dull.
" Come," said John at last, "you are in the dolefuls ; here,
take my arm, and we'll cut away home, for you have made
those lodgings uncommon like home. You take my arm-
you must," and Maggie's reluctant little hand was drawn
through his arm once more. " It's rather cool here ; you
can't think how delightful it is just now at the Cape, mild.
THE WOOING O'T- 231
and bright, and stop ! here is the chestnut again quiet
enough now."
It was the chestnut, pacing soberly along, and followed by
a smart groom on a brown horse, older and graver than tha"
which bore his master. As the chestnut approached, his rider
guided him across to where the cousins stood. Maggie felt
for an instant as if giddy and in the dark, as she recognized
Geoffrey Trafford. He dismounted quickly and threw the
rein to his servant, then, raising his hat, stood before her and
took the hand she hesitatingly held out.
" I had no idea you were in town, Miss Grey," said the
dear, well-known voice, so clear, refined, and yet commanding,
with its indescribable, high-bred ring. " When did you ar-
rive ? "
" Oh, about two months ago," said Maggie, gathering up
her forces, and making a grand successful effort for compo-
sure and self-control. " Mrs. Berry left Paris about ten days
after you did."
" Indeed, and are you still with her ? "
" No," a smile and shake of the head. " She is married."
" To that card-playing fellow, De Bragance ? "
"Yes."
" Ah ! poor woman, what a finale ! And where are you ? "
looking keenly into her soft eyes, his own softening as he
looked.
" I am with my uncle : that is with my cousins."
" Ah ! " a sharp inquisitive glance at her companion.
" This is my Cousin John, of whom you have heard me
speak," said Maggie, observing it, and coloring vividly,
though becomingly.
"Indeed," said Trafford, raising his hat as though pre-
sented to a prince. Cousin John instinctively touched his,
intending to raise it, but stopping short, produced an un-
graceful effect.
" I have then to congratulate you on his return," cohtinued
Trafford, gravely.
" Yes, Mag and I are fast friends," said John, patroniz-
ingly, and with agonizing familiarity, quite elated, or rather
confirmed in his estimate of his own importance by this men
tion of him by Maggie. " Were you ever at the Cape, sir ?
You stuck to that beast of yours as if you had learned to ride
in the colonies."
" I was there for a few months once," replied Trafford cour
teously, " but I always thought England the best school foi
232 THE WOOING OT.
riding," and while he spoke to John, he looked at his com-
panion looked earnestly and interrogatively. She felt utterly
and unspeakably miserable. To see Trafford, tall, slight,
distinguished, in his admirably fitting and perfect morning
dress, worn so easily ; his careless grace of manner, that
bearing as though the cream of life had always been his.
And then to look at John, tall too, but lumbering and heavy,
with the ends of his blue tie flying loose, and the brown
patches of his trousers distractingly visible ; his rough, untu-
tored red hair, and profuse beard, his great red hands, inno-
cent of gloves, his bumptious air, his appalling low-crownea
hat ! The contrast was too dreadful ; and then, when he said;
with an unspeakable air of proprietorship, " Take my arm,
Mag," she felt she must obey, that she would not, could not,
seem to slight him then, though he was deepening " full many
a fathom " the great gulf already fixed between her and such as
Trafford. " Do not let me keep you standing," said that gentle-
man, " I will turn with you, if you will allow me," beckoning to
his groom to follow : and so Maggie walked on as if in a dream,
her hand held tightly against John's ribs, and Trafford at the
other side of her. Do you stay long in town, Miss Grey ? "
" I do not know : I am rather unsettled at present."
" Good God ! " thought Trafford, " going to marry this
ourang-outang. What creatures women are ! " But he only
said, " I fancy London does not suit you so well as Paris ;
you are not looking so bright as I remember you, at the ball,
for instance." This bit of irrepresible malice was intended
for " Cousin John."
Maggie gathered spirit enough to look up at him with
something of her old smile, saying, "Ball dress and looks,
you know, are not to be worn every day. But you look very
much better than when I last saw you."
" I have been away on the moors, which suits me, and have
just come up from Mount Trafford, where I have been staying
with Torchester. By the way, why did you never answer
Lady Torchester's letter ? "
" Lady Torchester's letter ! I never received one, never I"
" That's a nuisance. I know my aunt wrote to you, and I
rather fancied you must have left Paris, as she received no
reply ; but were your letters not forwarded ? "
" My letters no, indeed. I never thought of giving any
directions about them. I never had any except from my
cousins, and I was going to see them."
" I was vexed,' however, that you and Lady Torchester did
THE WOOING O'T. 253.
not become acquainted. Will you write to her now and say
you never had her letter ? "
" Oh, no ! I couldn't," said Maggie, shrinking from such
an undertaking, and mournfully but proudly determined tO'
renounce all intercourse with people so far out of her reach.
" As you like," said Trafford coldly, considering this em-
barrassed refusal another infallible token of her engagement
to the " ourang."
" And who may Lady Torchester be ? " asked John, with
an air of authority. " I never heard of her before."
" She is Mr. Trafford's aunt, and he was good enough to
think she might be of some use to me," said Maggie with
great steadiness, but breaking off suddenly.
"Oh! I see," said John. "Fact is, sir," to Trafford,.
" this is such an independent piece of goods, she can't rest
in her uncle's house, where she is like a daughter. But I
think she'll find the best sort of independence in the colonies,
eh ! " and he winked knowingly at Trafford, the aristocratic,
fastidious Trafford, as if they thoroughly understood each
other. Maggie's misery and confusion were crowned by
perceiving this triumphant indication ; but she was too over-
whelmed to utter a word. It speaks highly for the moral
restraints of civilzied life that Trafford, instead of then and
there pouncing on cousin John, tearing Maggie from him, and
carrying her off bodily on the fiery chestnut, only smiled
rather grimly and said, " At all events, life is freer everywhere
than in England ; " but it was more than he could endure,
Maggie, too, who at first sight he thought looking pale and
sad, had, between annoyance and embarrassment, gained a
brilliant color ; she was evidently quite content, and it was
all infernally disgusting ; so with an imperious gesture he
called up his groom, and bowing somewhat haughily, he said
to Maggie, " I must say good-morning, Miss Grey. Torchester
will be pleased to hear of you. He and I start the day after
to-morrow for St. Petersburg, with very vague ulterior inten-
tions ; I must not, therefore, venture to say au revoir"
" Good-bye, then," said Maggie, simply, not offering her
hand, as he seemed inclined to be satisfied with his own lofty
salutation ; but there was a sadness in her voice that made
him hesitate a moment and long to say good-bye kindly ; it
was scarce a moment, and he mounted his horse, raised his
hat once more, and then rode rapidly away rapidly and more
rapidly still, while his groom wondered where the "dickens "
his master was going. Away up the Edgeware road, threat
234 THE WOOING O'T.
ing in and out through vans and carriages, and obstructive
omnibuses past Kilburn, and away into the open country,
raging against himself for the idiotic weakness which permitted
this brown-haired simple girl to entwine herself with his heart,
or his fancy, or his passions, or whatever was the source of
the maddening irritation he felt, against her and himself, and
that brute, her cousin, and the world in general, with its ab-
surd bondage of social distinction. What an unpardonable
little traitor she was to think of such desecration as to give
her sweet dainty self to this ourang ! What undiscriminating
dolls women are ! Yet what was it all to him ? What right
had he to expect anything from her ? Even if she was Ms,
and all difficulties surmounted by his resolution to gratify an
overwhelming whim, would he not feel that it had cost him to
dear ? This very cousin, how would he like to have him at
dinner ? Trafford was too well and safely placed to care with
whom he was seen in public ; it was from personal intercourse
he shrank ; and the very sincerity and loyalty he loved in
Maggie would make her cling to every one who had ever been
kind to her. But could she, with her innate good taste, her
quick sympathies, her graceful, instinctive appreciation of
everything that was noble and beautiful in art, could she
absolutely take this clown " for better, for worse ? " Oh ! it
was too degrading ! " And," Trafford thought, " I fancied I
had nearly cured myself of this folly. Well, she will finish
the cure now. I can never again think of a girl who would
be content with such a fate. Yet, poor lonely child ! the
world is a hard place for her to battle through ; and after all,
it is not unnatural that she should give herself where she
finds help and shelter something more real than the sympa-
thy and appreciation which, nevertheless, left her to Mrs.
Berry's vagaries and her aunts brutality. That cousin John
does not look like a brute, rugged as he is. There's an
honest and not unkindly expression in the dog's eye : so I
suppose it's all for the best, and there's the end of it. Arriv-
ing at this satisfactory conclusion, he drove the spurs into his
horse's sides, and gave him another breather of a mile or so ;
and then, pulling up, remarked calmly to his groom, " I think
I tamed the chestnut tolerably, Rogers ? "
" Yes, sir, I think you have," returned the man, somewhat
breathless from following after.
" Whereabouts are we ? "
" Somewhere near the Welsh Harp, sir.
Meantime, Cousin John and Maggie had quickened theil
T.HE WOOING O"T.
2 35
pace as Trafford rode away. " Why, that's no end of a swell,
and no mistake ! Where did you meet him, Mag ? " asked
John.
" Oh ! in Paris, with Mrs. Berry," replied Maggie, listening
to her own voice as if sombody else was speaking, and
appalled at the black desolation that seemed to settle down
upon her heart, as Trafford's cold look of disdain remained
fixed upon her vision.
" How did she come across him ? Now, why didn't she set
her cap at him, instead of that beggarly Frenchman ? "
" Because because even she never thought of such a
thing. It was so utterly out of the question."
" Then what was he after ? You ! Ay ! you are a little
trump. So you told him you had a Cousin John, away seeking
his fortune, that you had kept a corner of your heart for !
Quite right, Mag ! nothing like being honest and open."
" I wish you wouldn't talk, John, I have a headache. I
never told Mr. Trafford anything of the kind. I said you
had been very good to me when I was almost a child and
oh ! I don't know what.''
" Well," .there, I'll not bother you. You'll tell me all
about it by-and-by. Come along, we'll have a cup of tea and
be off to the theater. There's the ' Overland Route/ a capi-
tal pky, and that will put you all to rights. " So spake John,
giving himself credit for both prudence and magnanimity
while he reflected : " I'm not so sure I can afford a wife this
year ; but at any rate I see it's all safe here, so I'll not bother
Mag till we can go straight away to church."
Everything was cloudy and unreal to Maggie that wretched
night. She was utterly humiliated in her own eyes, to think
that she could have been so shaken and upset by meeting
that proud, haughty Mr. Trafford. How different from what
he was in Paris ! No, she would not write to Lady Torchester ;
she would have no more to do with the Traffords. And John,
how detestable John had made himself ! How conceited, how
patronizing ! Come what might she would advertise to-morrow,
and take the first thing that offered ; even a happy home with
an evangelical lady, nine small children, and no salary.
The visit to the theater was a great relief; Maggie was
carried away from self by the scenery and the fun. She
laughed and cried, and was altogether so charming in the
sort of recklessness with which she snatched the little bit of
enjoyment that obliterated for a while the sharp pain of mem
$36 THE WOOING OT.
ory. That John found it rather hard to stick to his own
programme.
Supper was finished, and John's feelings did not prevent
him from doing ample justice to it. Maggie and Bell had
said good-night, and begun to ascend the stairs to their loftily
placed dormitory, when John was heard calling authoritatively,
" Mag ! come back I say ! I want you."
" What is it ? " she asked, returning, while Bell continued
to ascend.
"Are you going off without saying good-night, after our
nice long walk to-day ? "
" But I have. I have said good-night this moment."
" I want a better good-night than that ! " and he threw his
arms round her ; but she repulsed him with a vehemence and
passion that astonished him.
" I will not and cannot kiss you," she cried. " If I want to
kiss you I will do it of my own accord ; but if you dare to kiss
me against my will, you shall repent it bitterly," and bursting
into an agony of tears, she ran hastily out of the room.
" Phew ! " whispered John, throwing himself into the only
arm-chair." " Now what was all that for? She can't really
object to kiss me. What humbugs these girls are ! "
CHAPTER XIX.
MAGGIE felt a little uneasy at meeting John after this
ebullition, though she considered it quite justifiable ; but he
entrenched himself in an air of business and preoccupation,
intending, he told himself, to let her come to her senses. So
he departed in peace after breakfast, and it was not until
evening that Maggie found time to plan out her advertise-
ment, which she was quite resolved should not be delayed
another day.
Tea was over. John was apparently absorbed in the City
article of the Times for the day of penny papers had only
begun to dawn and Bell was yawning over some needlework,
when Maggie placed her writing things on the table very quiet-
ly, and, as she thought, unobserved. She was soon absorbed
in the difficulties of her task, and grew absolutely nervous
over it. What would she not have given for a few words of
counsel with dear kind uncle Grey ?
THE WOOING OT. 237
"What are you about now, Mag?" asked cousin John, so
suddenly that she started.
"Trying to answer an advertisement," she answered,
promptly, and laughing rather nervously. John stood up,
stirred the fire, and then continued standing on the hearth-
rug magisterially.
" Now, ain't you a foolish, positive girl, to be bothering
about an advertisement, and wasting your money, when you've
the governor's house to put up in till better times. I'm really
vexed with you."
"And why?" urged Maggie, gently. "You know I have
no right to impose myself on Uncle Grey when I can earn
anything for myself ; and as to the better times why should
I not work while waiting for them as well as idle ? I can
accept fortune wherever it finds me."
John rumpled his hair, and seemed to think profoundly as
he played with his watch-chain. " Well," said he, at last,
"there is some truth in that; so advertise away in God's
name only, if you change your mind, remember my father's
house is nearly as much mine as his, and if I say you shall be
welcome there, you shall. Now, what have you written ? "
" Law, Maggie ! what have you put ? " cried Bell, laying
down her work.
" I am very stupid about it," said Maggie, blushing, "will
this do ? 'As companion to an elderly lady, or governess to
young children. A young lady who can speak and read
French and teach music. A moderate salary.' '
" Bosh ! " growled John. " You would be just as likely to
get an immoderate salary, if you asked for it, and be a
deuced deal more thought of into the bargain. And why
don't you say you are a smart accountant ? it's altogether a
washy concern put a little more ' go ' into it, can't you ? "
*' It is very hard to know how to put it. I wish my uncle
A r as here."
" Well, I flatter myself I can advise you as well, if not bet-
ter than the poor governor, only you like him better eh,
Mag ? "
" I do," replied Maggie, ruthlessly, " of course I do."
"Well, you are an ungrateful little toad! " cried John,
energetically, " and I'll be hanged if I take any more trouble
about you. Didn't I stand to you stouter by long chalks than
ever the governor did ? He might cry over you in private, but
he'd never prevent the missus from wiping her shoes on you.
Wasn't I going over to Paris just to see you ? and didn't I
138 THE WOOING O'T.
keep you in town because I saw you were breaking your hesrt
about leaving ? Don't I do all I can for you every way ? And
yet if a fellow asks for a kiss, you fly at him as if he was
dirt under your feet ! What is it you don't like in me ? Just
speak out."
"I am not ungrateful," said Maggie, frightened at this
rough outburst, and trying hard to keep back her tears, con-
scious that she did not feel toward John quite as she ought.
" I am fond of you, and you see I did think of you and speak
of you when you were away" (dexterously recalling Trafford's
soothing remarks), " but what I don't like in you is, that you
think so much of yourself, and make little of your father,
who is so simple and high-minded, and "
" And pray why shouldn't I think well of myself ? " inter-
rupted John, still angry, but mollified. "Haven't I got on
where another would have starved ? Haven't I worked hard
and lived hard ? And now I am spending the fruits of my
work on myself ? Do I act as if I didn't care for my father ?
I show what I feel, without pretending to think that because
he is my father he must be a wiseacre. He is a good fellow,
he is a d d sight too soft to be of much use. But nothing
will please you that isn't a gentleman, a swell, like what we
saw yesterday. I didn't think you would let such nonsense
turn you against an old friend, ay ! and a true friend."
Maggie's heart beat fast. She knew there was truth in all
John said, and she also felt that there was truth in her objec-
tions to him, only she could not express her meaning, and if
she did it would do no good. Moreover, like a true woman,
she was intimidated by the force and vigor of a man's anger.
So, wisely declining the contest, she exclaimed, " You are an-
gry and unreasonable, and I will go away." She was hastily
putting her writing things together, and shaken as she had
been by the event of yesterday and a somewhat sleepless
night, she could not keep back the tears. They dropped vis-
ibly on her portfolio.
" I'll be hanged if you go like this ! " cried John, inter-
posing himself between her and the door. " You have riled
me till I spoke rough, and now I'll not let you go till we are
friends. I am sorry I vexed you, Mag come, will you say
as much ? "
But Maggie couldn't say anything. She sat down and
covered her face with her hands, while she struggled to resist
a hysterical fit of weeping. John was somewhat puzzled at
this utter break-down, and attributed it to her sorrow at hav-
THE WOOING O'T. 235
ing angered him. He little knew its complicated causes
There were the remains of yesterday's agitation ; there was
the painful feeling of having vexed a true friend the shame
of knowing she would at that moment like to banish him for-
ever from her sight ; there was the unspeakable dread that
he had penetrated her secret weakness and folly; and, lastly,
that awful sensation of being misunderstood and alone, which
must madden if it lasts.
" Don't take on so, Mag ! I say, Mag, I am ever so sorry
I spoke hard."
" And I am sorry I vexed you that you misunderstood
me," said Maggie at last, in a trembling voice. " Some day
you will know me better. And now I am tired and stupid ; I
will go to bed."
" Well, we are friends again," said John, earnestly, holding
out his hand.
" Oh, yes, I hope always."
" Now, then, I will not offer to take a kiss, but give me one
of your own accord, as you said last night."
" I will, Cousin John," said Maggie, with a sad humility,
and so stood up on tiptoe and gave him a little refrigerated
kiss.
But John was no nice observer. He had got what he
wanted and giving his fair cousin an elephantine pat on the
shoulder, told her to go to bed, sleep sound, and be right as
a trivet in the morning.
The morning, however, brought with it a mighty change.
The post, in addition to John's letters, had one foi " Miss
Grey," which Bell claimed and opened, but soon renounced :
" It must be for you, Maggie." And it was. As Maggie
turned over the paper a slip of newspaper fell out. She
picked it up, and then, with sparkling eyes, cried, " Listen to
this, John ! "
" ' Miss Dunsford's compliments to Miss Grey, and begs to
forward her the enclosed advertisement cut from this morn-
ing's Times. No time should be lost in applying, and Miss
D. hopes it will prove suitable.' The advertisement is from
yesterday's paper. ' Female amanuensis or secretary wanted
by a lady of literary pursuits. Clear handwriting and a
thorough knowledge of English required ; also a person suf-
ficiently well-bred to associate with her employer. Good ref-
erences expected. A comfortable home and liberal salary
will be given. "
" There's a go, by Jupiter ! " cried John. " Let's haTt a
240 THE WOOING O'T.
look," and he caught the slip of newspaper out of Maggie's
hand. " ' Apply personally, between twelve and one o'cfock
to-morrow and Thursday, at No. 63 Hamilton Terrace, St.
John's Wood.' That's to-day. You go in and win, Mag ; I'll
not interfere."
" But," said Maggie, between hope and fear, " I am afraid
I am not clever enough for such a great lady as this must be,
and I am sure I have not a thorough knowledge of English ;
but I will certainly try."
" Who can it be ? " wondered Bell. " Perhaps Mrs. S. C.
Hall or the authoress of ' Emilia Wyndham.' "
" How delightful that would be ! " cried Maggie.
" I wonder what they consider a liberal salary ? " said John.
" Thirty pounds a year ? "
" So it would be very liberal," replied Maggie. " Seven
pound ten a quarter nearly as much a I got for a whole
year from Mrs. Berry."
" She was a frightful screw," remarked John. " Now
mind, Maggie, you do not close with anything till you consult
me."
" I will not, indeed," cried Maggie, eager to be friends
again, especially as she began to hope that there might be a
way of escape.
It was with the utmost doubt and diffidence that Maggie
arrayed herself in her very best garments for this tremen-
dous undertaking. She dared not hope for success, and she
dared not contemplate failure : her fortunes seemed at a low
ebb ; and she revolved the advertisement over and over in
her mind during her long, lonely walk to Hamilton Terrace.
On arriving there, she found it was a lady's school, evi-
dently of high pretensions. She was ushered into an uncar-
peted room looking into the garden, where, to her dismay,
she found already assembled ten other applicants ; some of
whom were writing at a table, whereon a goodly display of
writing materials were set forth.
" Will you please write down your name, and address, and
references, and anything else you like ? " said the servant ;
" I will come back in a few minutes, and take the papers to
Miss Colby." And gathering up some papers already writ-
ten, she departed.
Maggie glanced at her rivals. There were a couple of
neat, fresh-looking girls, but the majority were severe, elderly,
iron-gray females, not at all refined or prepossessing in ap-
pearance, " though, no doubt," thought Maggie, " miracles of
THE WOOING ffT, 341
ability in all matters connected with pens, ink, and paper."
She sat down, however, and tried hard to write as prettily
and clearly as possible her short statements. The result was
that she thought she had never written so badly. It was
finished long before the servant returned, and when she did
he summoned one of the grizzly females to an interview.
Hours seemed to have elapsed, two or three more ladies
were called away, before the smart servant came back once
more, and looking uncertainly round, said, " Miss Grey."
Maggie rose at once and followed her, trembling.
In what seemed to Maggie a gorgeous drawing-room, over-
flowing with Berlin woolwork, vases of wax flowers, and
richly gilt albums, and hung round with hazy water-color and
pencil sketches, sat the arbiter of her fortunes, enthroned in
state. She was a small stout woman, with wide-awake spec-
tacles, a broad, eager-looking face, an elaborate cap of fine
lace, and a substantial brown silk dress ; a small table beside
her was heaped with letters and papers.
" Well," she said querulously, but not uncivilly, " I am sure
I hope you will suit, for I am nearly worried out. A Miss
Grey, I see you only left the lady you mention here because
she married. I suppose this Mr. Dunsford will vouch for
this ? "
" He will. He has permitted me to apply to him because
Mrs. Berry, I mean Madam DeBragance, is moving about on
the continent. I scarcely know where to apply to her."
After a few more queries as to her antecedents, Miss Colby
plunged into a description of the splendor of the appointment
of which she had the disposal. " The work would be entirely
literary," she said ; " accounts and that sort of thing, would
not be in the least required. The lady is young, nobly born,
and very wealthy ; a most charming person a former pupil
of my own of high literary and artistic taste, and indeed
genius, but she finds it difficult to keep up society and
study, writing, and all that. She therefore requires a toler-
ably well-educated young person to copy compositions, to fol-
low up ideas, and be generally useful with the pen. Do you
think yourself equal to undertake this ? "
" I am afraid to say much," replied Maggie, coloring ;
" but I am diligent, very glad to be useful, and though I
think I can write tolerable English, a lady such as you de-
scribe could only want me to copy, not to originate."
" Still a proper knowledge is essential : but you probably
have it Now I will keep your address, and let you go, for I
16
242 THE WOOING O'T.
have a number of more people to see. I will write to you in
any case in a few days oh ! I forgot to mention the salary
is sixty pounds a year. You would have (in the country)
your .own sitting-room, but I fancy you would not live with
the family. Good-morning,"
And Maggie was dismissed,
As she walked back she tried hard to dismiss all hope from
her heart. It was altogether such a golden chance, she feai
ed it could not be for her. Some all-accomplished mistress
of the English tongue would appear to-morrow, and be chos-
n forthwith. Maggie only hoped Miss Colby would remem-
ber her promise and write, to put her out of pain.
" Well, Mag," cried John, as he sat down to tea that eve-
ning, " what luck ? Got the place ? "
" No ! " said Maggie, shaking her head, " only not quite
rejected."
" Come, tell us all about it," said John.
And Maggie did.
" Hum ! " said the family mentor, when she ceased. " I
don't think much of it. This rich young lady will be marry-
ing, as your widow did, and then you will be adrift again."
" Still I will gladly take it if I have a chance."
" I suppose you will ; and when another marriage knocks
you on the head you will be obliged to marry, in self-defense,
yourself, eh, Mag ? "
" Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof," said Maggie,
laughing.
Four days went over, and still no communication reached
our young waiter on Providence.
" Had I not better give it up, and put in my own advertise-
ment ? " she asked earnestly of Cousin John.
" No ! hang it, no ? wait a day or two longer before you
throw away any money on it. Look here, I am going to run
down to Ditton Market to-night, just to see what the gover-
nor's doing. I'll be back late to-morrow. Wait till I come
back, and then we will see what's to be done."
"Very well, John."
" And just see my things put in the bag, like a good girl.
I say, you've been as good as gold ever since I gave you that
blowing up the other night. Ah ! ' A woman, a spaniel, and
a walnut-tree, the more you lick them' eh, Mag ? "
" You are a heretic and a Turk ! Remember, I have never
withdrawn my accusations against you."
THE WOOING O'T. 243
" Pooh ! if you can say no worse than that I am not a
sentimental chap I don't care."
The day John left was diversified by a stiff breeze with
Bell. The agreeable Fred Banks called, and offered to take
her and Maggie to a promenade concert. Maggie declined,
and Bell was deeply indignant, and spoke some sharp and
; nsulting words, which she afterward tried rather abjectly to
recall, having the fear of John before her eyes.
Tuesday morning was dull and raw ; and though the
absent John had made himself peculiarly obnoxious of late,
Maggie confessed to herself that he was preferable to Bell
alone, and in the sulks. But all reflection and meditation
were put to flight by the receipt at the twelve o'clock delivery
of a note for " Miss M. Grey."
Miss Colby presented her compliments, and requested
Miss Grey, if still disengaged, to call as soon as possible after
the receipt of this.
" Dear, dear ! you have got the place, I am certain. What
luck, Maggie ! " cried Bell.
" I really begin to hope it," said Maggie, preparing for her
expedition, and feeling " all of a tremble," as sensitive ladies
term it.
On this occasion, our heroine indulged in an omnibus to a
point near Hamilton Terrace, and found the redoubtable
Miss Colby attired in outdoor dress, evidently waiting for
her.
" I am so glad you have come at last, for there is a good
deal to arrange, and I must go out. Your reference to Mr.
Dunsford is satisfactory, and Miss Grantham has decided to
try you for three months, at all events. She wants you down
as soon as possible. Can you go on Thursday ? "
" Where ? " asked Maggie, quite dazed at the rapidity of
Miss Colby 's conclusions and communications.
" Why, to Grantham. They will be there till afte^r Christ-
mas. It is in Liineshire, near Castleford a beautiful coun-
try."
" This is Tuesday. Do you not think the lady might allow
me till Saturday ? I have a few preparations to make, and it
would be a great accommodation if I could stay till Saturday."
" I really am afraid to take upon me to say," and Miss
Colby looked puzzled and vexed. " She says," taking up a
note with an elaborate monogram, and covered with large
straight writing, " she says, ' send this young lady down to
*44 THE WOOING OT.
me at once. I am standing still in every sense ; nothing ta
do and no one to see.' "
" Still," urged Maggie, a little appalled at the seeming mag
nitude of the work which awaited her. " I should like to
stay till Saturday, if Miss Grantham, I think you said ?
will permit."
" I tell you what ; I'll telegraph and beg her to telegraph
back to you direct. That will show a proper attention to her
wishes. Then if she says you must go on Thursday, you
must. We will drive to the telegraph office, and then you
can return home. I have to go out to pay calls to-day."
" But," said Maggie, feeling her heart beat at the tremen-
dous importance of her new mistress, " will you not be so kind
as to give me some idea of my duties my work ? "
" I have no idea myself. I only know what Miss Grantham
wrote. You will soon find out. Miss Grantham is most kind
and generous a little peculiar and if you make yourself
useful and obliging it may be a great hit for you. The car-
riage, I suppose," to the smart servant who opened the door
at that moment. " Come, then, Miss Grey. Oh, I forgot,
Miss Grantham desired me to pay your traveling expenses.
It is a long journey, and you must go first-class. I dare say,
with cabs and that, it will cost nearly three pounds. There
are three sovereigns, and full directions in this envelope.
Come, now, we will drive to the telegraph-office."
Maggie returned to Bell, morally breathless, and was sub-
jected to a severe cross-examination what she said, and what
Maggie said, and what Miss Grantham's note looked like,
etc., etc ; and then, with the full consciousness that she had
quantities to do, Maggie sat down on the horse-hair sofa in
their little sitting-room, and began to dream of the new future
opening before her. How tenderly she remembered poor Mrs.
Berry, fanciful and selfish and provoking as she was ! She
never could have the same feeling of equality and " athomeish-
ness " with this great high and mighty Miss Grantham. Her
life in Germany and Paris, dear, delightful Paris ah ! all
that must be forgotten !
But she roused herself at last, and set diligently to work to
turn out and arrange her belongings.
Time flew on, and as she settled herself to work, after a
late tea, a sharp knock at the front door was followed by the
entrance of the servant with a mysterious yellow envelope.
" Oh ! the telegram ! " exclaimed Maggie. " It is short
THE WOOING 0'7*. 245
enough : ' Saturday will do ; come down by the 2 P.M. train.'
I am so glad I need not hurry away on Thursday."
" And what in the world shall I do all alone here with
John ? " asked Bell, in some dismay.
" Oh, just do your best ! He is not so hard, after all."
" You don't know what he was till you came."
The object of Bell's terrors, true to his appointment, re-
turned to a late supper that night. The weather was raw
and cold, so Maggie took care to have a nice bright fire, with
a kettle singing beside it, an appetizing little repast, and all
things in readiness for the formidable John.
" Well, girls, how have you got on without me ? By George,
this is nice and comfortable ! I declare, it's worth while to
go away to find such cosiness when you come back," cried
John, when he had got off his overcoat and muffler. He
was In high good-humor ; all things looked promising at the
new Dorado. " You can't think how the governor's come out
quite sharpened up. I believe we'll make a ma of busi-
ness of him at last. He says he'll be very glad of your help,
Mag, with the books and, eh ? "
For Maggie murmured, " Oh, John ! "
" She's going away to this grand literary lady on Saturday,"
cried Bell.
" Gone and engaged yourself while I was away ! " shouted
John, indignant.
" But I thought we had agreed I had better take the chance,
if I got it ? "
" Yes, but to go absolutely and fix it, without consulting
any one, was coming it rather strong. And how about refer
ences ? "
" Oh, they are quite satisfied with Mr. Dunford's, I know."
" But you have you had no reference ? "
" I? I never dreamed of such a thing."
" Well, you ought," replied John, sternly. How do you
know this Miss Grantham may not be an imposter ? How do
you know you are not going into some disreputable place ? "
" Oh, John ! you would never think of such a thing if you
had heard Miss Colby speak. She says this lady is nobly
born and wealthy, and "
" She might say anything. It's our business to prove it.
I will see Dunsford about it to-morrow."
" I am sure it is all right," cried Maggie, dreading that the
chance of independence and escape might be wrenched from
246 THE WOOING OT.
her; for Cousin John did not seem at all willing to let her
go.
" Well, I'll make sure, I can tell you," said John, signifi-
cantly.
And he did : but all his researches proved satisfactory.
There was a residence called Grantham, near Castleford. It
did belong to a lady of the same name, a personage of im-
portance, who had livings in her gift and a small borough on
her estates. So John had nothing for it but to give up his
cousin, of whom he had longed to make a petted slave, and
let her escape into the higher atmosphere of personal liberty.
CHAPTER XX.
NEVERTHELESS, when it came to saying good-bye, and she
was absolutely in the train, Maggie felt a little sad. Yet the
regret was more for the impossibility of loving John as she
should like to do, than for parting with him.
" I am deuced sorry you are going, Mag. However, you
won't be out of reach ; we can get you back. Now, mind you
write to me direct. I won't be plagued with second-hand let-
ters, and I will run down and see you as soon as I make my
way little clearer. God bless you ! "
As he left the door of the carriage, n. gentleman with a
large black leather bag jumped in. He was considerably out
of breath, but wore a complacent expression, having evident-
ly just succeeded in catching the train, and proceeded to
change his hat for a traveling-cap, to arrange his railway rug,
to unfold his papers, and evidently prepare himself for a long
journey He was a large, fair man, about forty-five or fifty,
with a broad, honest, open face, and whiskers of the peculiar
tinge known as pepper and salt. Maggie observed him idly,
for she had omitted to provide herself with book or paper ; so
sat watching the country as it flew past them, scarce able to
believe that she was once more afloat and free.
Her fellow-traveler's newspaper lasted him for nearly forty
miles ; then he unlocked the bag, and drew forth a long blue
paper, with a parchment angle and a green tie through it,
which opened into a large folio, or rather many folios ; into
this he plunged, and was absorbed for another half hour, till
THE WOOING O'T. 247
Maggie, finding herself grow chill, endeavored to draw up the
window at her side.
" Allow me," said her companion, laying down his docu-
ment and coming to her assistance. " The evenings grow
cold now. Would you like to look at the Times ? "
" I should very much, thank you."
The voluminous sheet helped Maggie over many a mile,
At Bletchly a lady and two little girls got in. Maggie soon
made friends with the children, and as the shades of evening
closed, her other traveling companions entered into conversa-
tion and chatted pleasantly enough. Maggie gathered that
the gentleman was, like herself, going to Castleford. She
was glad to think she should not be alone ; company keeps up
the spirits wonderfully. At C the lady and her children
left them, and the gentleman asked Maggie if he could get
her anything ; he was going to have a biscuit and a glass of
sherry himself. Maggie declined.
" Quite a frosty evening," he said, as he seated himself in
the carriage. " Afraid we'll have a sharp, early winter. Go-
ing much further ? "
" To Castleford."
" Indeed ! We will not be there till 8:40, and I have some
way to drive after." So saying, he settled himself to sleep,
and Maggie endeavored to follow his example. However,
she could but doze uneasily, waking every now and then with
a start, to feel half frightened at the rocking of the carriage
(it was an express train) and the weird effect of the dimly
seen hedges and half-luminous smoke, as they flew past ;
growing very weary and rather sad, as the length of the jour-
ney impressed her with the idea that she was indeed going
far away, into great unknown solitudes, wherein were dangers
innumerable.
At last she was at her journey's end.
As she stepped out of the warm and well-lit carriage into
the darkness of a bleak country station, the platform being
raised high above the natural level of the country, Maggie
could not control the trembling dread that seized her, partly
the effect of exhaustion. As far as she could see into the
gloom all looked open, drear, and bare. How was she to get
on to her destination ? The question was soon solved. A
porter ran up with a lantern, exclaiming, " Carriage here from
Grantham, for a lady and gentleman," and set to work to ex-
tricate her luggage.
" We are still to be fellow-traveler's," said the man with
248 THE WOOING OT.
the bag, courteously. " I suppose you have got your belong
ings?"
" Yes, thank you."
" Then follow me down these steps ; mind, it is rather dark
at the bottom. Oh, here we are."
A smart brougham, the coachman in mourning, and a large,
spirited horse, stood at the foot of the steps.
The driver touched his hat, and assisted the porter to put
up Maggie's two boxes. " If there's any more, we'll send
over in the morning for it."
" That's all," said the porter.
Maggie was handed in most politely by her companion,
and they drove off rapidly, she feeling quite comforted not to
be alone.
" Charming person, Miss Grantham," said the stranger, who
was evidently a little curious as to his companion, " and a
charming place."
" I have never seen either. I am going to be Miss Grant-
ham's secretary or amanuensis, and was engaged by a lady in
London."
" Oh, ah ! " as though half amused. " Well, I dare say
she will be inundated with letters for some time. You will
be pleased with the country. There is much to interest you
in Grantham itself ; very old place lots of relics and family
pictures rather dull in the winter ; but I fancy Miss Grant-
ham will keep the ball going. Five minutes to nine, I protest !
we were behind time a little. I shall nov be sorry to have
dinner, or something : and you, why, you must be fainting !
It is nearly five miles from the station to the house, but we
will do it in twenty minutes more."
Maggie was conscious of a short cessation of the rapid
motion, of a shout of " Gate ! " and passing an open cottage door,
from out of which came the ruddy glow as of a bright fire,
and then rolling on over an unexceptional smooth road,
while the rushing, groaning sound of the wind, which had
risen with nightfall, suggested the idea of thick trees, after
what seemed an immense time since they passed the lodge,
Maggie's companion exclaimed, " There there's the house ! "
She looked, and there on the left, apparently over them,
stood a large, vague pile, four or five windows of which were
brightly illuminated. It passed out of sight, and the carriage
turned to the left and went up a short, steep ascent. The
next moment they stopped opposite a wide-open door, which
showed a large, brilliantly-lighted hall. Two men-servants in
THE WOOIKG OT. 249
black, with all the trappings of liveried woe, came out as they
drew up ; and one magnificent personage, the depth of whose
mourning was only enlivened by a prominent shirt-frill, stood
in dignified readiness in the doorway. To Maggie's unso-
phisticated eyes he looked a duke at least. She ascended the
steps, longing in her heart to take fast hold of her new ac-
quaintance's arm.
" Call Mrs. Hands," said the ducal functionary. " Miss
Grantham will see you at once, sir," he added respectfully to
Maggie's companion.
" And this young lady ? " said the gentleman kindly, seeing
our little heroine look pale and miserable.
" Mrs. Hands will be here, sir, immediately to attend to
Miss Grey," and bowing, he motioned the new arrival forward.
" Good-evening," then said he to Maggie, and as he spoke, a
tall, stout, solid, elderly woman in black, with gray ribbons in
her cap and a white apron a woman of authoritative air,
and somewhat old-fashioned, servant-like appearance came
into the hall.
" Carry up the luggage at once," said she to one of the
gentlemen of the shoulder-knot. " Come with me, ma'am,
you must be cold and tired."
The hall was large, nearly square, and very lofty. It was
lit by long, narrow windows right and left of, and also above, the
entrance, warmly draped with rich crimson stuff. Opposite the
door, two broad flights of steps, with balustrades of the same
dark polished wood with which the hall was paneled, formed
an arch over another door leading into the interior of the
house. The ceiling was richly carved and gilt in the Louis
Quatorze style, and the floor tesselated with black, white, and
gray marble ; pathways of crimson carpets led across it in
various directions, groups of hothouse ferns filled the angles ;
a large, carved oak table, loaded with plaids, and fur rugs,
and riding-whips, stood in the center ; numerous portraits
hung upon the walls.
Maggie took all this in at a glance. The tremendous
grandeur, the jump she seemed to have made into another
world, all seemed to oppress her, as she followed her conduc-
tress up the stair and along a passage and down a few steps
past a projecting window ; and then they stopped at a door,
and entered a charming room of moderate size, with a mossy
green carpet, pink and white chintz curtains, mirrors, a sofa,
easy-chairs, ottoman, writing-table, a cottage piano, a bright
fire in a prettily-tiled fireplace, and a tempting tea-table set
250 THE irUUfNG OT.
forth beside it ; the lamp lit everything that could be desired,
even some flowers. Maggie could not help uttering an ex-
clamation of delight.
" This used to be Miss Colby's room." said Mrs. Hands ;
" and," throwing open a door beside the fireplace, " there is
your bedroom" another smaller, but equally dainty apart-
ment, full of every comfort and elegance.
" I will make the tea while you take off your things," said
the grave Mrs. Hands, and retired.
" Surely," thought Maggie, with much gratitude, " my lines
have fallen in a pleasant place. I trust this is not too fair a
beginning."
" You have had a long journey," said Mrs. Hands, as she
poured out the tea, and pressed cold ham and hot cutlet on
her charge.
" I have been nearly eight hours traveling."
" Yes, it is a weary journey from London. I seldom take
it now. Would you not like some wine instead of tea ! "
" Oh, no ! thank you. Nothing is so refreshing as a cup of
tea."
" Miss Grantham desired me to say she was sorry she could
not see you to-night, but hopes to make your acquaintance to-
morrow."
" Very well," said Maggie, glad to secure a quiet night
before encountering the formidable Miss Grantham.
" She's busy with the lawyer to-night. That was the lawyer
as came down with you."
" Oh, indeed ! " After a little more talk in which Mrs.
Hands informed Maggie that she had been " our young lady's
nurse," and now had the charge of her wardrobe and the
French lady's maid, who was a regular handful Mrs. Hands
rang. A neatly-dressed, fresh, country looking girl answered
the bell. " Take away the things, Jane ; " then, as she went
out added, " she's a grand-niece of mine, and is to answer
your bell and attend these rooms. When do you wish to be
called in the morning ? "
" Oh ! at seven eight whatever time every one else gets
up."
" At eight, then. And look here," opening the door, " you
see that door opposite there, next the big window ? That's
my room. And now can I do anything more for you ? "
" No. I am very much obliged to you."
" Good-night, ma am ; and I hope you will sleep well."
THE WOOING O'T. 251
Maggie did sleep well. There is something undoubtedly
consoling in material comfort : a sense of security and
elevation, when our surroundings are refined and pleasant to
the eye, when food and drink are placed before us without
effort on our own part, and we are free to believe that we can
afford to leave our lower wants to the care and attention of
lower creatures, while we develop our higher and nobler selves,
independent of thought for what we shall eat or drink, or
what we shall put on. Which, I hope, proves the necessity
of an upper and an under crust to society, forever and ever.
It seemed to Maggie that she had not long closed her eyes,
when she woke again, and it was daylight. She felt wonder-
fully refreshed, and almost equal to the impending interview
with Miss Grantham.
After a few minutes' dreamy thought she rose, anxious to
view her new abode. The window of her bedroom looked
into a paved yard, in which was an old-fashioned stone
fountain, mossed with age, and sheltered by a walnut-tree, the
leaves of which were falling fast. It seemed to appertain to
some of the offices, for a buxom kitchen or scullery maid, in
a tucked-up dress and pattens, clattered across it while
Maggie looked.
Her toilet completed, she proceeded to inspect her sitting-
room. The window there looked over a wide, undulating
park, sloping away from the house till it sank between two
wooded hills, and gave a distant view of some green uplands
with patches of brown ploughed land, all crowned by a far-
away blue line of mountain.
This fair scene was but dimly visible through sheets of
drifting rain, blown hither by a strong shifting wind. The
aspect of things with-out sent Maggie, with a keen sense of
comfort, to the glowing, ruddy fire a delightful combination
of coal and wood.
" Am I not very late ? " she asked, as the neat IHtle maid
brought in her breakfast, seeing that the pretty clock on the
mantel-piece pointed to ten.
" You were asleep, 'm, when I first knocked, and Mrs.
Hands said I was not to disturb you."
It was curious to eat her breakfast alone, Maggie thought,
but not unpleasant for once. She was utterly ignorant of the
habits and customs of the life into which she was suddenly
plunged, and everything attracted her attention. The snowy
white of the delicate table linen, a luxury in itself ; the beauti-
ful polish of the slender, old-fashioned silver ; the queer little
252 THE WOOING O'T.
square tea-pot its tracery faint, its ivory handle yellow from
age. The lovely china, with the exquisite colors of its butter-
flies and honeysuckle standing out on a clear, transparent,
white ground. How delightful it all was 1 How suggestive of
centuries of wealth, accumulated elegance, practised refine
ment ! " What a different world from mine ! " thought
Maggie. " This is Lord Torchester's world. How could he
ever think of me ? " And though even in thought she would
not name him, Lord Torchester was but the equivalent for
another. " I wonder, if I get used to this, shall I be loth to
Jeave it ? Not if I am left alone much. Loneliness is so de-
pressing. Yes, this is very, very delightful ; but I would give
it all for the dear old parlor behind the shop at Altringham.
That was Paradise to me. How my sweetest mother would
have been charmed with this china ? " And Maggie mused
on, dreamily enjoying the unwonted freedom and luxury of
an easy chair all to herself. After her breakfast had been
removed the respectable Mrs. Hands made her appearance.
" Miss Grantham hopes you have rested well and wishes
to know if you would like to go to church the carriage will
be at the door in twenty minutes."
" Oh, no ! thank you ; I did not think of going ; it is so wet,
and I have not my things unpacked."
Still no chance of seeing Miss Grantham. So Maggie read
the Morning Prayers and Lessons, as she used to her mother
on extra wet Sundays, and then she unpacked her rather
scanty array of goods and settled them in the ample drawers
and wardrobe, which, even after she had laid by her last
ribbons, seemed an uninhabited desert.
" Now," she thought, with virtuous resolution, " I shall
write to John and to Aunt Grey both. So she set forth her
writing materials and began. But she had scarce finished
the first page when a knock at the door arrested her
progress.
" Come in," said Maggie, laying down her pen, and only
expecting Mrs. Hands or Jane.
The door opened, and Miss Grantham entered. Maggie
felt it must be the fair chatelaine. Yet she entered gently,
with a smooth gliding step, her long rich black silk and crape
dress trailing behind, and with the sweetest smile, Maggie
thought, she had ever seen, held out a hand, so fair and
taper, and loaded with jewels, that Maggie felt half inclined
to kiss it, as if the owner were- a queen.
" I have to apologize, Miss Grey, for this tardy welcome,"
THE WOOING O'T. 253
she said, in a rich, carefully modulated, but rather deep voice.
" I have been a victim to my lawyer, who traveled down with
you a most respectable, diligent person, but just a little
tiresome and even now I have only a few minutes to myself
but sit down." And Miss Grantham drew a chair at the
opposite side of the fire to where Maggie sat. " I hope you
are rested and comfortable, and that Hands has taken care
cf you ? "
" She has, indeed," said Maggie, gazing, with sincerest
admiration in her clear, frank eyes, at her new mistress.
" My room is delightful, and so is this one."
Miss Grantham smiled again very pleasantly; she was
quite alive to the impression she had made upon her new
secretary, who enjoyed a thorough good look at the splendid
picture opposite to her.
A tall woman, whose outlines, though she was only just of
age, had in them a rich, full grace ; a snowy throat ; the
faintest suspicion of a double chin ; the jaw somewhat heavy ;
the lips full and crimson, parting to show spotless rows of
pearly teeth. Large light blue eyes shone out steadily, fear
lessly, from under a white brow and masses of golden fair
hair, which were evidently too much for the skill even of a
skilled lady's maid. The soft, creamy-white skin, the peachy
bloom of the cheek, made up a splendid specimen of Saxon
beauty. And as she leant back in her chair, there was an
indefinable haughty, careless grace in every attitude and
motion.
" I shall not be free until Tuesday morning, when we shall
set to work, I suppose Miss Colby told you what I
wanted ? "
" Not very clearly and I sincerely hope I shall be equal
to my task."
" Oh ! I am sure you will," said Miss Grantham, kindly.
" Dear old Colby sent me a specimen of your writing it is
very nice ; the rest I shall supply. You have been on the
Continent, that is an advantage. Did you not like it ? "
" Very, very much," said Maggie, with a sigh. " You have
been there, of course ? "
" A little : only a few months altogether. Poor grandpapa
hated it, and I could not often get away. Pray, if not too
impertinent a question, how old are you, Miss Grey ? "
" I was twenty in August last," replied Maggie, blushing
under Miss Grantham's cool, searching gaze.
"Indeed?" another soft, sweet smile. "I should not
*54 THE WOOING O'T.
have thought you so much. Now, tell me how old would
3 r ou take me to be ? Speak frankly."
" Oh ! I cannot think," said our heroine, too deeply inter-
ested in her subject to be conventional. "You look as if
you had ruled for many years. And yet your cheek is so fair
and smooth, your mouth so soft, your expression so tender
although you must be quite young, perhaps not older than
myself. Forgive me," added Maggie, checking herself, and
coloring deeply, " I speak too freely."
" Not at all ; you speak en artiste, and show no mean
powers of observation. I came of age last June, so I am
not much your senior. Come, I see we shall accomplish a
great deal of work together. Intelligence and legible writing
what a treasure Miss Colby has found for me ! "
" Another knock at the door. Maggie looked at Miss
Grantham, who did not seem to notice it.
" It is your room," said the heiress, courteously, in reply to
the look.
" Come in," cried Maggie.
Enter the ducal butler, who, with profound respect,
observed, " luncheon waits."
" I am coming," said Miss Grantham, without turning her
head. " I am afraid " addressing Maggie " I shall not be
able to see you again to-day or to-morrow ; but you read you
like reading ? I will send you some papers and magazines
and ring for whatever you want. If to-morrow is fine, Lady
Dormer will take you out to drive. Adieu for the present."
And Miss Grantham swept away, evidently well-pleased with
her new acquisition, while Maggie remained standing where
Miss Grantham had left her, penetrated with a sudden enthus-
iasm for this lovely, gracious, queen-like patroness, whose
grandeur was yet so genial that, modest as was Maggie's
estimate of herself, she felt no dread, no diffidence ; rather,
all personal feelings were swallowed up in complete admira-
tion ; all the suppressed romance, of which our lonely little
waif had enough and to spare, sprang into light, and fastened
upon this delightful subject.
" She is like a princess for whom kings might do battle ! "
said Maggie to herself ; " and so sweet and kind ! How
wonderfully fortunate I am ! How grateful I ought to be to
God for directing me here ! I do hope I shall please her
but I must, for I shall understand her."
So Maggie finished her letter to John in a most rapturous
tone, and then she thought of the contrast between that right
THE WOOING O'T. 255
trusty cousin and the high-born dame who had just left her.
" I wonder," speculated Maggie, " if John would feel any
awe of Miss Grantham ! I dare say he would lay down the
law to her as if she was like any one else he has no
imagination ; " but she might have added a right manful
and independent spirit.
" Miss Grantham, true to her promises, sent Maggie a pile
of weekly papers and publications ; and between reading,
writing, and reverie, Sunday passed over very well.
Monday was again wet, and dragged a little heavily
though Maggie had her needle-work, and tried to be busy.
After her early dinner, Mrs. Hand came in. " Lady Dor-
mer's compliments ; she would be happy to see you, if you
would like to pay her a visit."
" Yes, I should," said Maggie, a little puzzled. " Please
tell me who is Lady Dormer."
" Oh ! she is our young lady's aunt, and always lives with
her, by the way of taking care of her ; and a very nice,
harmless lady she is not like Miss Grantham, you know."
" No, no ! no one is like her," cried Maggie, with a genuine
enthusiasm that won the old nurse's heart, " she is so lovely
and so kind. But I am dressed enough to go and see Lady
Dormer ? "
" Aye ! you are as neat as a new pin ; she will be quite
pleased with you."
Maggie accordingly followed Mrs. Hand to the staircase
where she was committed to the guidance of a tall footman,
who conducted her across the hall and down a passage, and
then, throwing open a door, announced " Miss Grey," in what
Maggie considered a terrific manner.
At the side of a large fire, in a luxurious easy-chair, a
work-table and a large basket of bright-colored wools beside
her, sat a decidedly elderly lady, very stout, with a broad,
placid, and rather unmeaning face. She was dressed, like
every one else, in deep mourning ; and as the room was fur-
nished with a somewhat dingy green, the eye was not a little
relieved by a mass of crimson wool which lay in her lap, and
on which she was operating with a huge wooden crochet
needle.
" Put a chair here," were her first words, addressed to the
footman. She made an effort to rise, but failed, and Maggie
came forward with a slight curtsey. " Very glad to see you
pray sit down. Shocking weather winter all at once. If i'
had been fine, I should have taken you with me. My niec
256 THE WOOING OT.
said it would have been very nice she is quite worn out,
poor dear ! with that tiresome lawyer."
" It must be very tiresome," echoed Maggie, rather at a
loss what to say. Lady Dormer's voice was pleasant for the
first sentence or two, and then it grew wearisome from its
unvarying tone.
" Do you like the country ? " after a pause.
" Yes, very much ; this must be a beautiful place in fine
weather."
" Oh, very nice, indeed ; so quiet. I sleep much better
here than in London. But I sleep very badly at night ; very
badly, indeed."
" That is very trying," said Maggie, seeing she paused for
* reply.
" Yes ! isn't it ? I am often glad to get a little sleep in
vhe daytime. Do you like crochet, Miss Grey ? "
" I do not know much about it ; but I can do the stitch."
" It is very pretty and useful. I am doing a shawl for
Hands she feels the cold a good deal. I offered to do one
. c or Miss Grantham ; but she says it would make an old
woman of her, and that I had better make it for Hands. It
is a pity these patterns are so complicated ; I can scarcely
make this one out. My niece often helps me ; but she is too
busy to-day ! Miss Grantham really seems to understand
everything."
" If I could assist you," said Maggie, shyly, " I would be
very pleased."
" I am sure you are very good," replied Lady Dormer,
brightening. " You see where this shell comes the pattern
ought to stand out, and it won't."
" Let me see," said Maggie, taking the bright, warm mass
from her ladyship's fingers, and gazing with intent eyes upon
a magical receipt, where words and figures were jumbled in
the most cabalistic fashion. An interval of intense appli-
cation ensued, and then for more than a mortal hour did
Maggie gently instruct the dullest of pupils in the mysteries
of chain 6, miss 3, 9 chain, i plain, etc.
" I am sure I am greatly obliged to you," said Lady Dor
mer, at last, " and shall go on all right now. If to-morrow is
fine, and Miss Grantham does not want you, I shall take you
out to drive after luncheon." And Maggie felt she was dis-
missed.
" What a wonderful household," she thought as she
regained her own quarters without guidance. ' I have see
THE WOOING O'T. 57
three men-servants, two women-servants, and an aunt, and
an indefinite multitude of other retainers ; and all seem to
hang on the will of a girl not much older than myself. One
need to be born in the purple to sustain such a weight ! "
Mindful that Miss Grantham had said she would be free
on Tuesday, Maggie rose early, and had finished breakfast
long before the expected announcement reached her " Mad-
emoiselle Grantham vous demande, mademoiselle ; " for it
was a little dark-eyed French girl, in a poetic cap, that
brought the message.
Maggie replied in the same language, pleased to speak it
again ; and thefemme de chambre was delighted.
Miss Grantham was in her dressing-room, a charming but
old-fashioned apartment, adorned with rose-brocaded silk pan-
els, white and rose curtains, couches, and footstools, while
the chairs in green velvet were a pleasant contrast.
She was at breakfast, in a long peignoir of white cashmere
embroidered with an elaborate pattern in black silk.
" I am an escaped bird this morning," said Miss Grantham,
laughing, as Maggie entered, " though just the least bit of an
invalid. I have a slight cold, and am indulging in a solitary
breakfast. Have you breakfasted ? "
" Some time ago."
" Well sit down. I have one or two letters here you might
answer for me ; but in the meantime Some more coffee
Ce'cile, interrupting herself " I must tell you that the work in
which I particularly want your assistance is a novel. I
sketched it out and began it a long time ago, but met with so
many interruptions that I have not got beyond the third chap-
ter. Now I cannot go much into society or do anything for
the next six months ; so I thought if I could give a couple of
hours daily to it with your help in copying and carrying out
my ideas, I might get it done by February or March, before
I go up to town to be presented. It would be charming to
hear everyone wondering ' who the author of so-and-so can
be.' By the way, I cannot think of a title, and yet I have the_
whole plot sketched out ; perhaps you will be able to give
me an idea and if you only have as much genius for litera-
ture as Aunt Dormer says you have for crochet, you will
indeed be a treasure-trove."
" Literature and crochet are widely different."
" Allans, nous verrons Eh ! Ce'cile. No, nothing more,
thank you. Come, Miss Grey " rising and leading the way
2S THE WOOING O'T.
through a door nearly opposite to that by which Maggie had
entered " this is my study."
It was a handsome room, three sides filled with book-
shelves, the other occupied by two windows draped in rich
red brown velvet, with busts between. The mantel-piece was
enlivened by a clock and vases in old Dresden china. A
zeather-covered writing-table was loaded with appliances for
writing ; and jardinieres, in every position, lightened the
chamber with color and perfume.
" Oh ! what a quantity of books," cried Maggie, delighted.
"You love reading, then," said Miss Grantham. "Well,
you may come and read whenever you like ; only, when I am
in a very solitary mood, 1 shall tell you to run away to your
own room with the book of your choice. Now here are these
two epistles : one is from the Society of Female Artists they
want me to be an honorary member ; the other from the
Emancipated Missionaries for the Conversion of the Zooloo
Tribes, who want me to subscribe. I shall be proud to be
enrolled among the former, and send them a cheque to help
their funds. Tell the others I am a thorough Churchwoman,
and would prefer their leaving the unfortunate Africans to
their original fetish. I shall finish dressing while you write.
You will find everything you want on the table."
It was a tremendous task, for Maggie had no idea how to
set about it. However, she read over the first letter care-
fully, and framed her reply upon it. Before she had quite
concluded, Miss Grantham returned.
" Let me see," she said, taking the paper from her hand.
'You write for me, not for my signature well, perhaps it is
better. That will do. I see you have left a blank after the
word ' cheque ; ' fill in ' fifty pounds.' Now, as to the other
oh, never mind, I will not answer it ; it is not worth attending
to. Now I must show you what I have done," opening a
large portfolio and taking out numerous loose sheets. " Here
is my novel. I will read you a little and then tell you the
plot." Miss Grantham leaned back in her chair, reading rap-
idly and somewhat monotonously :
"It was a dull, rainy morning, and the purlieus of St.
Paul's were darker than ever, when the head waiter at the
Crown and Anchor, Paternoster Row, coming into the bar,
which was lit with gas, said to the blooming young lady who
presided over the bottles and preserves, ' This is a rum go.'
" ' What ? ' asked the barmaid.
" ' Why, the baby to be sure. The old lady what came
THE WOOING OT. 259
here last night with the baby went out this morning to buy a
heasy pair of boots, and has never come back, and the child's
screaming in No. n, and no one knows what to do with it.'
/"Poor little soul!' cried the barmaid, the maternal in-
stincts of whose feminine heart had defied years of chaff, or
sordid routine, and even the indurating effect of doubtful
money, to stifle. ' A ha'p-orth o' milk boiled down with a
rusk will comfort her. P'raps the woman will turn up in an
hour or two.'
" ' Not she,' returned the head waiter ; ' she has bolted.' "
And so on for nearly an hour, detailing how the buxom bar-
maid took the deserted infant and formed a profound attach-
ment to it, feeling convinced from its lovely form and delicate
garments, that it was the child of noble parents.
"There, I am really quite tired," said Miss Grantham,
pausing suddenly. " Now, what do you think of that ? "
" It is very interesting. I wonder how it could all come
into your head," said Maggie, dimly conscious that she had
heard something like it before, yet really surprised that so
great a lady should begin her narrative at so low a stage of
life.
" Well, you see, I want to describe a heroine whose native
nobility will come out under the most adverse circumstances.
She is really of a very high race. Her father and mother
have been privately married, and the father has been killed
oh, somewhere and then the mother, who must be a bad
ambitious woman, wants to marry a Russian prince, and so
wishes to suppress this baby, and gives it, with a large sum
of money, to a cruel, avaricious old nurse, who determines to
teep the money and get rid of the child. Of course all sorts
of adventures can be introduced. She must go on the stage
I mean the baby and fascinate her own cousin, besides
quantities of other men and, oh, I have such a charming
hero ! " and quite animated with her subject, Miss Orantham
turned over the pages to find the description of the hero.
" But," said Maggie, sincerely interested, " I wish you
:ould make the father bad and the mother good. A bad
mother is so horribly unnatural."
" Do you think so ? " said Miss Grantham, pausing in her
search. " Well, there are plenty of bad mothers in novels,
and it is so easy to kill a man. He goes into all sorts of
dangers, a soldier especially. Besides, a baby isn't such a
drawback to a man as to a woman. You are quite right to
give me your candid opinion, but I think I must keep my
300 THE WOOING O'T.
wicked mother. I cannot find the passage I want, ?)ut v^a
shall come to it as we go on. Now, suppose you copy out
what I have read. It is horribly written and full of mistakes,
but you can make it right. You must call my attention to
any alterations that suggest themselves. I want you to be
perfectly candid,"
" I will be, indeed. I only wish I was more experienced
and learned to be of more use to you."
"You would only interfere with my originality, if you were,"
said Miss Grantham. " Do you understand about the in-
verted commas, and paragraphs ? Leave plenty of room, and
only write on one side of the paper." So saying, she placed
led paper, a forest of pens, and a huge inkstand beside her
secretary. " I shall go and see Aunt Dormer and hear if she
has letters, and then I shall come back and answer my own."
Maggie set very diligently to work, and had produced three
fair legible sheets, with all proper paragraphs, marks, and
signs, before her employer returned. Her training with poor
Uncle Grey stood her in good stead, though she did not like
to confess to herself that it was less tiresome to copy his pa-
pers than the conversation of Miss Grantham's characters.
True, there was much of Uncle Grey's lucubrations which she
could not understand, but then there were bits she did, and
those interested her intensely.
" What a quantity you have done ! how nice and clear ? "
cried Miss Grantham, peeping over her shoulder. "You
must have done this sort of thing before."
" I used to copy papers for my uncle."
"Was he a literary man ? "
" No, he was a scientific, rather ; he is a chemist."
" Indeed ! I should like to understand chemistry above
all things. In short, I should like to know everything ; but one
hasn't time. Have you made any alterations ? "
" Oh, no. I would not do so unless I pointed them out to
you. I have left a blank for ' Paternoster Row ; ' I fancy
somehow there are no hotels there, only booksellers."
" Well, perhaps not ; we can easily find another." Then
Miss Grantham sat down to her own special writing-table a
marvel of convenience and taste and wrote a few minutes,
then talked for a while, and wrote again, and then exclaimed,
" It is almost luncheon-time. We have done quite a hard
morning's work, and I feel as if I had quite earned my lunch-
eon ; while you must be almost faint with starvation. You
breakfasted an hour before me. Come down with me ; I
THE WOOING OT. 261
shall not leave you in solitary confinement any longer. Lady
Dormer will be charmed to see you at luncheon."
" I fancy Maggie would have enjoyed her dinner more
alone. Nevertheless it was an experience that amused her.
Miss Grantham did not use the great dining-room when
there was no company at the Hall. Still, the smaller one
seemed magnificent to Maggie. The display of the table
the plate, the fruit, the flowers all appeared too grand for
common use. It was appalling, too, to be waited on by a
powdered, epauletted gentleman, to have the ducal butler,
who did not even seem a duke in disguise, but a duke evident
and unmistakable, inquiring confidentially if she preferred
sherry or hock.
It all seemed natural and common enough to Miss Grant-
ham. She was a little fastidious, and spoke rather sharply
about a salmi of partridges which did not please her.
" Wheeler " (to the butler), " this is not all right. Pray tell
Pe'cheron that he must not grow careless because we are alone.
If he does not care to please me, why he had better leave."
"Yes'm," said the noble functionary, with profound
attention.
" Take it away. You cannot eat that, Miss Grey."
" It is not so bad," remarked Lady Dormer, contentedly.
" Bad ! Why, is it not good ? " said the heiress.
And then jiere was silence, and Lady Dormer observed
that " Poor dear Lord Brockhurst was ordered away to
Algiers."
" Indeed ! " cried Miss Grantham. " Is Lady Brockhurst
going with him ? "
" I don't know. Miss Ashton mentions it."
" I fancy she will not. It would be such banishment for
her."
" What do the Longmores say about coming here ? " asked
Lady Dormer and so on about people and things quite
unknown to Maggie. Just before they rose from table Miss
Grantham said to her aunt, " Oh ! I am going to take Miss
Grey out with me ; she can go with you another day, if you
don't mind."
" Very well," said Lady Dormer, placidly.
" I shall be ready in about half an hour, and show you
something of the country. I drive at a better pace than
Aunt Dormer. You would like to come ? "
" Yes, very much ; but ought I not to stay in and write ? "
*62 THE WOOING O'T.
** Oh ! you need not be so indefatigable ! we shall grow
stupid if we have no recreation."
When Maggie descended with her bonnet on, she found a
beautiful pony carriage with a pair of perfect little white
ponies, sleek and rampant with spirits, standing at the door.
A tiny groom, in spotless buckskins, exquisitely fitting top
boots, and livery, standing at their heads. While Mr.
Wheeler looked on critically and approvingly from the door-
step.
Miss Grantham issued from the drawing-room a moment
after, looking superb in a crape and bugle bonnet. The
butler and two footmen assisted each other in the tremendous
task of handing the ladies in and arranging a tiger-skin rug,
and then Miss Grantham took the reins, shoulder-knot No. i
called out " all right " to the tiny groom, who stepped aside,
and the white ponies darted away at a speed that half-fright-
ened Maggie.
" They are very fresh this morning," said Miss Grantham,
*' but you need not be alarmed, " I am a capital whip."
It was a fine, calm autumnal day after the previous storm
and rain, and deeply Maggie enjoyed the beautiful woodland
scenery through which their road lay wide rolling uplands,
wooded dells, open park-like spaces dotted with deer, deep
lanes, their broken rocky banks clothed with a wealth of
many-tinted leaves. The smell of the pine-trees, the rush of
rivulets swelled by the late reins, the delicious, cool, clear air.
What a paradise it all seemed to poor Maggie. What a
delightful change it created in the current of her thoughts.
Miss Grantham seemed to enjoy her enjoyment. " Yes, it
is a lovely country. I am very fond of it, but it is fearfully
dull ; and now poor Lord Brockhurst is obliged to go away,
the country will be a desert. Southam shut up, and Gran-
thain shut up, for it would not be decent to fill the house for
three or four months. I suppose Limeshire will not have had
so dull a winter for many years. I am very vexed about the
Brockhursts. Lady Brockhurst is my greatest ally the most
fascinating woman knows everything and every one has
been everywhere. I always was flattered by her notice she
is older a good deal than I am, and is very exclusive
abhors commonplace ; but she always liked me."
Maggie speculated on who and what this lady could
possibly be, whose notice could flatter so great a personage
as her companion.
Miss Grantham talked on, and enlightened her secretary
THE WOOING &T. a6j
as to her views on various subjects her intended doings ia
London, and possibly travels in foreign countries. She
seemed to Maggie as if she was somewhat intoxicated with
a sense of freedom and power, though too well-bred to show
it in any offensive manner, but that she could scarce make up
her mind which path of pleasure to choose among the many
that offered.
On approaching the Hall, which they did not until dusk,
the diligent secretary said, " I suppose I can go into your
study and write this evening. It is really a pity to waste too
much time."
" You will overtake me too soon," said Miss Grantham,
smiling. " But you can do so, certainly, if you like."
" The rector is with her ladyship," said the butler, as they
alighted.
So Miss Grantham, with a pleasant nod of dismissal, went
towards the drawing-room, and Maggie mounted to her own
quarters.
The next morning brought her a letter from Cousin John,
wrote in a rather surly tone. He warned her that all was
not gold that glittered, that the finery which she described
would only makeXher more conceited than ever, and when she
was sent adrift, as she would be one day, she would be glad
to fall back on plain honest people who knew their own
minds.
" Poor, dear John," thought Maggie, who was always fonder
of him at a distance, " how cross he was when he wrote ; but
in one thing he is right ; my tenure of office is very uncertain,
and always will be, I am afraid, so I must make the most of
the present."
THE WOOING OT.
PART II-
CHAPTER XXI.
THE stream of life settles very quickly into new channels.
In a week Maggie had become accustomed to the routine of
Grantham, though she found steady application under Miss
Grantham's auspices quite impossible. Some new and urgent
occupation for her pen was found nearly every day : a cata-
logue on an improved plan was designed for the library ; a
descriptive list of the family portraits, with anecdotes and
sketches of the periods to which they belonged, was eagerly
begun, and Maggie was excessively sorry to be withdrawn
from it, to arrange and decipher the rough drafts of a poem
in blank verse which Miss Grantham had commenced on
" Simon de Montfort."
What a lavish waste of time it all seemed to our little
Maggie, trained in so different a school ; however, she told
herself she had no right to complain. She found time for
some steady reading, and an unlimited supply of standard
authors in the library. Finally, she steadily grew in favoi
with Miss Grantham, who made her the constant companion
of her drives and walks.
Sometimes her kind but whimsical mistress was amused to
hear the reminiscences of her simple life, and was evidently
charmed and touched by Maggie's description of her mother
and her home. She seemed flattered by Maggie's timid offer
to show her her greatest treasure her mother's picture. " It
is a sweet face," said Miss Grantham, after looking at it
earnestly, " and looks like a gentlewoman. You are like her
a good deal. What was her name ? "
"Everard," said Maggie, more than ever drawn to hei
fascinating patroness.
456 THE WOOING (JT.
** A good name," remarked Miss Grantham, thoughtfully.
** Do you know anything of your mother's people ? "
*' Nothing whatever. I do not think she did."
" My dear Miss Grey ! I shall write a story about you some
day. I am sure you are, or will be, the centre of a romance."
So October fled away ; and Miss Grantham, in spite of her
varied employments, began to be intolerably bored.
Maggie was quite grieved to see a restless, dissatisfied ex-
pression saddening her countenance, but was ignorant how to
dispel it Indeed, from time to time, she caught glimpses ot
a vacuum in her admired friend's life, or heart, or fancy,
which neither rank, riches, conscious beauty, nor intellectual
occupation seemed to fill.
One day Miss Grantham had gone out, after luncheon, with
L.ady Dormer, and Maggie had taken advantage of their
absence to play over some of her old lessons with poor M..Du
Va.L She was so employed when Miss Grantham, returning
sooner than she expected, entered unperceived, and listened
for a few minutes without speaking. " You really have a
very nice touch, Miss Grey," she said, to Maggie's confusion.
*" You ought to practice every day. Do you think you could
play my accompaniments ? I cannot bear to sing an^. play
fcoth."
" I am afraid I could not do well enough but I should be
so delighted if I could ! "
" We will try at once," cried Miss Grantham, throwing aside
her bonnet. " Come to my study, my music is there , you
nay find something you know."
After turning over the voluminous store, Maggie found a
pretty little chansonette, over which she had toiled wearily with
Mrs, Berry, striving with indifferent success to make that ladj-
sing in tune.
" I think I might manage this."
*' Begin, then ; though I have not sung for months."
Miss Grantham's voice was one of rare quality, clear and
rich. It had been most carefully cultivated; while nature
had bestowed upon her a real genius for music. All her other
pursuits were mere whims. Music dramatic music was her
true vocation. Maggie was soon too much entranced to
think of her own possible failure, and acquitted herself very
creditably.
** How deliciously you sing ! How is it I have not heard
yaa before ? " she cried, turning to Miss Grantham, her eyes
THE WOOLVG O'T. iff
moist with genuine delight. " It is like a peep into anothei
life to hear you ! I wonder you are not singing all day."
" I have been out of humor with many things lately, music
among them ; and then imagine singing to Lady Dormer !
Now that I find that you are musical, it will be quite different.
You really can be of the greatest use to me as an accompanist ;
but you must practice and get up all my songs. Let me see
what else you can play." And so the whole afternoon went
pleasantly over ; and after dinner Miss Grey was requested to
join Miss Grantham and Lady Dormer in the green drawing-
room, to play for the latter's admiration ; and her ladyship
did admire to the best of her ability, and then fell asleep.
" You must look over all my music, and get up the songs I
have put down here," said Miss Grantham, " while I am
away ; for I was going to tell you to-day, only the music put it
out of my head, that Aunt Dormer and I are going over to
Oatlands, the Longmores' place, for a week or ten days, and
I shall probably go on to London for a clay or two. I have
not been there since grandpa died, and I want various
changes before we go up for the season, if I go ; so you will
have plenty of time to practice and write and read. I hope
you will not feel very lonely. You must drive every day if
you like, and work my ponies a little."
" And when do you go ? " asked Maggie, somewhat dismay-
ed at the idea of being left all alone in that huge house.
" The day after to-morrow. You are to be sure and ask
for everything you want , and all my music and books are
heartily at your service. You will have nurse, too, to take
care of you, so pray do not look melancholy."
" Oh ! no. I shall miss you dreadfully you have been so
wonderfully good to me but of course I can never hope to
see so much of yomagain, when the first days of your mourn-
ing are over."
Miss Grantham smiled graciously. " I am not sure I
would not rather have you with me, provided we had a few
additions, than go to the Longmores. They are cousins of
mine, some of the immense family tribe ; old Mrs. Longmore
was grandpa's sister- They are very good-natured, common-
place people. They think me oh ! I don't know what they
think of me ; they are such old Tories, and I am, you know,
extremely Liberal ; but for all that, they are most palpably
anxious to marry me to the son and heir, Grantham Longmore.
Such a well-bred unobjectionable muff ! Imagine me marrying
sC8 THE WOOING O'T.
the quiet respectable representative of a quiet respectable
country family !"
" If you do not like him, that is the best reason against
such a marriage," said Maggie, gravely; deeply interestea,
for it was the first approach to the usually attractive topic of
matrimony which Miss Grantham had made. " But you
have everything in the world already, what more could any
one give you except the devotion of a character worthy of
you ? "
" Yes ! I should like rank," said the heiress thoughtfully.
" I don't mean to marry a man of rank, but to have it my-
self. It is such a shame that the barony of Grantham did
not descend in the female line. I should then be the twenty-
first possessor of the title ! but I am determined to get it.
As to a possible husband, I do not care if he be rich or poor,
titled or untitled, but he must be well born, well bred, well
educated ; with pluck, ability, and force of character ; high-
minded enough not to care for my possessions or my posi-
tion ; and with warm blood enough in his veins to love me
passionately for my own sake. 1 don't care for his being
handsome, but he must be tall and distingue, and a good deal
older than myself."
" Ah ! " said Maggie, " where will you find all that ? "
" It can be found," said Miss Grantham, with a far-away
look in her large blue eyes, and a slight, tender smile on her
lips.
" She thinks she has found her hero," said Maggie to her-
salf. " Perhaps such chivalrous compounds are to be more
easily found among her class than mine. God grant her hap-
piness, at all events." But she said nothing, only touched a
few chords absently.
After a variety of directions respecting the sixth chapter
of the novel, for which Miss Grantham only left notes to be
amplified by her secretary, the heiress, with her aunt, her
French maid, and the illustrious Wheeler to escort them as
far as Castleford, departed.
Maggie did not feel quite so desolate as she had antici-
pated. In her own bright little sitting-room, she did not re-
alize the immensity and emptiness of the house, and she had
plenty to do. Most earnestly she practiced all the songs in-
dicated by her kind, genial employer, and worked, not less
willingly, yet certainly less con amore, at her literary labors
Each morning she received a polite message from the but
ler to know if she would drive that afternoon, and as regu-
THE WOOING OT. "269
larly she sent a polite reply stating that she would not. To
have that exquisite little carriage, with its spicy ponies and
saucy groom, paraded on her . account, would have been
about as severe an affliction as she could well have been con-
demned to !
Busy, however and pleasantly busy as she kept she
could not, through all these solitary hours, help sometimes
remembering the previous occasion on which she had been
left alone by Mrs. Berry ! She certainly enjoyed that inter-
val considerably more but then it was all a piece of folly
which she must forget a weakness of which she ought to be
and was ashamed. Surely such an unsubstantial vision would
not haunt her forever !
After mature reflection, she asked the respectable Mrs.
Hands to walk with her sometimes, as she did not like to go
far alone ; and that worthy female was much pleased. Dur-
ing their peregrinations the good nurse told many family
matters to " my young lady's secretary," matters, not secrets
for a word derogatory to that sacred house would never
cross her lips. She also showed Maggie the old lord's part
of the house with the old family pictures which had been
saved when the castle which used to stand on the site of the
present house was burned. Then Miss Grantham wrote
twice first from Oatlands, giving an amusing and rather sar-
castic description of the party there assembled ; and next
from London, evidently written under depression of spirits.
Altogether, nearly six weeks had gone by and still the mis-
tress of the mansion had not returned.
At last, on a Monday afternoon, Mrs. Hands came into
Maggie's room as she was rejoicing in having conquered
" Robert le Diable" (I mean the music of that work.)
" I'm glad to tell you, Miss Grey, Mrs. Dean, the house-
keeper, has just had a telegram. Miss Grantham and my
lady will be back to-morrow and they are bringing company
for we are to have the east bedroom and the blue room
ready they will come by the 2:00 express."
" Then you have no idea who Miss Grantham is bringing
with her ? "
" I suppose it's Miss Longmore and her brother ; she could
not very well have regular company."
Maggie felt quite exhilarated at the prospect of having Miss
Grantham at home once more. She was proud to think how
well she had prepared her tasks.
A xong, lonely, but agreeable ramble in the park helped the
270 THE WOOING O'T.
day well over, and about half-past eight the noise of the ar*
rival penetrated even to Maggie's sanctum. Had Miss Grant*
ham and her aunt been unaccompanied by any guests, Mag-
gie would have ventured down to greet them, but as they
were not alone she did not like to intrude.
She half hoped Miss Grantham would look in for a mo-
ment or send for her, but no message came.
" Miss Grantham has arrived, then," she said to her at-
tendant, when she brought in her supper.
" Yes'm they are at dinner now. Miss Grantham and
Lady Dormer have brought two gentlemen with them ; but I
don't know their names."
After waiting up considerable past her usual hour Maggie
went to bed, just a shade disappointed.
Next morning she had just finished breakfast, when Miss
Grantham came in dressed, and evidently on her way down
stairs. She looked handsomer than ever there was the ra-
diance of a great joy on her face.
"We were so late last night I thought there would be no use
looking for you when I came up," she said, kissing Maggie
lightly on the brow. " But I am very glad to see you again,
and very glad to come back. Though I shall be rather en-
gaged for a few days. I must see what you have been doing,
however ; so let me find you in the study after breakfast.
You must come down to luncheon to-day I want to know
what you think of my guests. Do you know, I think Grant-
ham must agree with you. You look so much better than
when you came down."
" And London must agree with you," said Maggie, gazing
at her with sincerest admiration. " You are looking several
shades more bright and beautiful than when you left."
" Do you really think so ? " said Miss Grantham, earnestly,
and looking deliberately into the chimney-glass. " But there
is the bell good-bye for the present."
About an hour after Maggie settled herself to re-arrange
and touch up the sheets she had prepared during her fair
patroness' absence. They looked very nice and clear, she
thought, and then she wished Miss Grantham would come,
but she didn't; and, tired of waiting unemployed, Maggie
rose to take down a book. Some old volumes of Blackwood,
into which she was fond of dipping, occupied a corner of the
book-shelf near one of the windows, and she paused as she
did so, to look out on the scene below.
Miss Grantham's apartments and her own occupied the
THE WOOING O'T. 271
econd floor of one wing, which stood on a sort of terrace or
sudden acclivity ; and the study windows looked down on a
mass of trees, which clothed its side, and then away over a
magnificent prospect of undulating park and distant blue hills.
She had never enjoyed the view so much before. "Pis true
the leaves were gone, but the innumerable branchlets sparkled
with the lightest frost and the bright, cold blue of the sky
seemed an atmosphere wherein healthy energy and cheerful
self-help must flourish. She stood awhile, drinking in all this
beauty in an unusually pleasant frame of mind, when she
was disturbed by an opening of the door at the further end
of the room, while Miss Grantham's voice said, " We shall
find her here." That lady entered, saying, " I have brought
a stern and incorruptible critic to inspect our work, Miss
Grey." A tall, thin, dark man followed her leisurely could
Maggie believe her eyes ? Yes ! it was Mr. Trafford !
Mr. Trafford, a little less embrowned and healthy-looking
than when Maggie met him in the Park ; but as grave, almost
stern, as he always looked when neither speaking nor
smiling.
Maggie stood quite still too astonished to think but
Trafford came forward at once with complete composure, and
taking the hand she mechanically held out, said, " Very glad
to see you, Miss Grey 1 Had no idea I should find you at
Grantham ! "
" How ! what ! is it possible you know Geoffrey Mr.
Trafford? Where on earth did you meet each other? Why
did you not tell me you knew him, Miss Grey? "cried the
heiress, infinitely surprised.
" I never thought of it," returned Maggie in all sincerity.
" I never imagined you knew Mr. Trafford."
" I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Grey at the house of
the renowned Mrs. Berry where Torchester introduced me."
And did you know Torchester, too ? " asked Miss Grantham,
still astonished.
" Oh, yes," replied Maggie, growing more collected " that
is, I used to see them both at Mrs. Berry's."
" And you so often talked of that Mrs. Berry ! It is curious
you should never have mentioned Mr. Trafford or Lord
Torchester."
" Shows the smallest impression either made upon you,"
said Trafford laughing. " To think of you two ladies having
been shut up here for how long ? six weeks together, and
having, no doubt, discussed all the male creatures of your
272 THE WOOING OT.
acquaintance, without once remembering that Torchester o!
myself existed ! It is really a lesson in humility ! "
" Of which you are much in need," returned Miss Grant'
ham. " Well ! I expect Torchester, and, I think, the countess,
next week so you can renew your acquaintance, Miss Grey, "
looking sharply, though good-humoredly at her, and Maggie
was infinitely annoyed to feel herself blush. " You know,"
continued Miss Grantham, " Torchester and I are cousins,
econd or first, once removed which is it, Geoff ? "
" Cannot tell ! I only know that you are my first cousin
one degree nearer," said Trafford smiling; and Maggie was
foolish enough to fancy he was watching her, as she sat
opposite to Miss Grantham and himself.
" Nonsense ! You are no relation of mine, you know ; only
I am good enough to consider you "
" A right trusty and entirely beloved cousin," put in
Trafford coolly.
' You may confer what titles you like on yourself. Pray
remember they are not ratified," replied Miss Grantham
gayly.
" A cousin is a very charming relation, is it not so, Miss
Grey ? " said Trafford mischievously, as Maggie thought,
bringing the quick blushes to her cheek, which caught Miss
Grantham's attention, as he intended them to do.
" Is Miss Grey especially aware of its charm ? " she
asked.
" I suppose it is no treachery to say that I saw you one
morning in the Park just before I went to St. Petersburg,
holding close converse with a second cousin John, who was
rather a hero in your eyes,"
" Not at all," said Maggie, stoutly, and nettled by what she
considered his somewhat heartless chaff. " Cousin John is
my best and truest friend."
"Well caught," cried Miss Grantham. "You see," to
Maggie, " how misplaced your confidence has been. You
must not let this ^//trustworthy kinsman of mine into any
more of your secrets."
" And now tell me," said Trafford, looking round, " what
are the plots which you hatch in this very enviable retreat.
You have made wonderful improvements, I must say, in the
old school-room."
" I have taken it into my head to write," said Miss Grant-
ham, with a slight hesitation that struck Maggie as a
wonderful admission of Trafford's influence.
THE WOOING OT. 273
"To write," repeated that gentleman. " Not letters, for I
am told it is almost impossible to get a reply from you."
" A decided calumny. No ! I have sketched out the plot
of a story, and with Miss Grey's help I am writing it in extcnso.
You must look at it, Geoff."
" Certainly ; but I am no fit judge. I seldom read novels.
Sometimes I am caught by a delightful fragment in a maga-
zine, and blaze up into the fiercest interest, bestow maledic-
tions on the delay which the intervening month creates, but
am burnt out by the time it expires, and so lose the thread.
What's your style, foreign or domestic ? "
" Oh, domestic ; I know very little beyond England."
" And not much of that, eh, Marguerite des Marguerites ? "
" I am not quite so ignorant and uncultivated as you
fancy."
" JBelle cousine ! you misinterpret me, and what about your
heroine, dark or fair ? "
" Oh, fair ! " cried Maggie, and such a charming creature."
" I am glad she is fair," said Trafford gravely. " I have
come to the conclusion that fair women have much more
diablerie than dark ones, and a woman without diablerie, what
my Persian friends call nemik, or salt, is not worth her salt."
The cloud that had for a moment rested on Miss Granlham's
brow was gone, and she was again radiant. " Shall I read
you a chapter or two, Geoff ? " she said.
" No, thank you," decidedly. " I should be incapable of
that strict and impartial criticism which I intend to bestow
upon your lucubrations were I to submit to such a corrupting
influence. No, let me have the composition in the stern
solitude of my own room ; there, with the help of a mild
cheroot "
"Certainly not," cried Miss Grantham. "What, smoke
over the pages Miss Grey has written so beautifully ! "
" Very well, if you take the consequences of depriving me
of the soothing weed."
" What will you do then ? " asked the hostess. " There
are guns and preserves ; both sadly neglected, I fear."
"Well, I'll have a try," said Trafford, rising. "Fortu-
nately I have brought my own gun a neglected breech-loader
is much more formidable than neglected preserves." And
Trafford left the room, followed by Miss Grantham.
" We lunch at two, Geoff," said the beautiful ch&telaine, as
she stood in the hall to see him put on his shot-belt \ " you
must try and be back in time."
H
274 THE WOOING O'T.
11 Sansfaute" said Trafford, buttoning his shooting-jacket.
" And after ? Do you never ride now ? Might we not have
a canter somewhere ? "
" It is nearly two months since I was on horseback ; but I
will see what is available. Wheeler, tell Andrews I want
him. It is so dull to ride alone. With you for my cavalier
it is quite different. By the by, Geoff, it is very odd you
never noticed Miss Grey's name and I have talked so much
f her."
" Yes, as the most admirable secretary in the world ; but I
am not sure that you mentioned her name, or if you did, I did
not notice it, or supposed there was more than one Miss Grey
in the world."
" I suppose you did, for I have often mentioned her name."
"Very likely," with much indifference, as he examined his
gun : " so good-bye till luncheon." And Trafford raised his
hat to his cousin and descended the steps.
Miss Grantham looked after him, and stood in deep thought
by the large table in the hall, till roused by the approach of
the head groom, with whom she held counsel.
" It is the most curious contretemps, your meeting Geoff
Trafford," said Miss Grantham, again seating herself before
the fire in her study, " and having known him and Torches-
ter ; do tell me all about it."
" There is very little to tell, Some French friends of Mrs.
Berry's brought Lord Torchester to one of her receptions
(she received every Wednesday), and then he came very
often ; and when Mr. Trafford came to Paris, Lord Torchester
brought him."
" And used he to go often ? " asked Miss Grantham curi-
ously.
" Yes, rather often, not so often as his cousin."
" What could have induced Geoffrey to go often to such a
person as you describe this Mrs. Berry to be ? You know he
is a little eccentric, but in his way exceedingly fastidious.
Was she handsome, this madame what is her name now?"
"De Bragance. She was rather good-looking. But oh,
Mr. Trafford would not look at her," cried Maggie, unguard-
edly, and immediately longed to retract her words, for Miss
Grantham looked up steadily at her, and said sharply :
"Whom did he look at? What in the world took him
there?"
" I really scarcely know ; but, you see, the men Mrs. Berry
knew were, I imagine, gamblers. And I always thought Mr.
THE WOOING O'T. 27}
Trafford came to take care of Lord Torchester and keep him
out of mischief," returned poor Maggie, instinctively fencing
off these agonizing queries, yet striving hard to tell the truth.
" Ah ! " said Miss Grantham, " that is very likely, and ac-
counts for Lady Torchester sounding Geoff's praises so much
when he returned from Paris." Then she remained silent for
a while, her great blue eyes gazing into the fire.
" And what do you think of Mr. Trafford ? " she asked, ab-
ruptly. Do you think him handsome ? "
" No, not handsome ; nice-looking."
"My dear Miss Grey, what a description of Geoff Trafford !
Nice ! Why, he looks like Brian de Bois-Guilbert or Ernest
Maltravers. Well, but he is agreeable clever."
" Oh, yes, very ; but I saw more of Lord Torchester."
" Torchester ! Oh, he is a great, shy, stupid booby."
" There is more in him than you think," cried Maggie,
thankful to lead Miss Grantham away from the topic that so
evidently interested her. " And he was so good to me that I
shall always remember him with pleasure. You know," she
went on rapidly, " my position with Mrs. Berry was very un-
defined, and she was so different from you ; kind in her way,
but considered me a sort of servant, and sometimes treated
me like one. When she saw Lord Torchester's kindness and
consideration for me why, I rose considerably in her estima-
tion."
" I suppose Torchester had the instincts of a gentleman,"
said Miss Grantham, and perhaps more savoir-faire than we
give him credit for," laughing gayly. " You may as well
make a clean breast of it, for I shall find out everything from
that traitor Geoff. It was too bad, his betrayal of your ten-
dresse for your Cousin John."
" I have no tendresse for him," said Maggie, carelessly.
" He is a good friend that is all."
" It is quite amusing. I cannot help picturing Geoff Traf-
ford at Mrs. Berry's. What used he to do there ?"
" Oh he talked and he listened to the music and he
played cards like every one else."
" What a dreadful place for you, poor child, amongst a set
of gamblers ! Really, with your experience, you ought to
supply some thrilling chapters to my book. But, come r I am
going to ride, after Icncheon, with Mr. Trafford, and I want
to try on my habit and hat. I had a new mourning turn-out
from town, but I have never put them on."
A delightful hour ensued. The hat was all that could be
t;6 THE WOOING OT.
desired ; but the habit required what Ce'cile termed une nu*
ance of alteration, and she devoted herself to it at once.
" Lady Torchester and papa were first cousins," said Miss
Grantham, strolling back with the secretary to her apart-
ments. " My name, you know, was Wallscourt. Mamma
was poor Lord Grantham's only child. I imagine he was not
pleased at her marrying papa, who was only a captain in the
Guards ; but so handsome and charming. I was very fond
of papa ; but I do not remember my mother. While papa
lived I used to be a great deal with Lady Torchester at
Mount Trafford, and very doleful it was, except when Geoffrey
was there. Tor and I used to long for him to come. You
know Geoff is the son of the late earl's only brother, so he
is not really any relation of mine."
" Yes," said Maggie. " And when your father died? "
" Oh, then grandpapa would hardly let me out of his sight;
in short, I was rather sacrificed to his whims. And here,
too, Geoffrey and Torchester were quite at home. So they
are like brothers to me ; all the pleasure I have ever known
is connected with them. When grandpapa died, I was
obliged to take his name. He directed it in his will. So I
am Margaret Grantham Wallscourt Grantham. Of course I
drop the first Grantham ; it sounds ridiculous, like Clara
Vere de Vere. But I must not neglect poor Mr. Bolton. He
came down with us yesterday. He is the family lawyer
quite an institution. Not the man you traveled with; a
different class of person altogether. He was ill with the
gout then, and could not come. So adieu until luncheon
time."
And Maggie was left alone with her thoughts, which began
to be a little more distinct after the shock and surprise she
had received.
To be actually under the same roof with Trafford ! To
see him, and hear his voice ever}' day, or nearly every day !
Oh ! be it folly or madness or want of dignity or what it
might, it was a blest gleam of joy that seemed to lift up the
curtains of her soul.
And then, with the distance between them more visible and
clearly defined than ever, she would surely learn to regard
him as a kind, pleasant friend. But she must be very careful
never to let him, or any one else, suspect that she gave him a
thought that she was such an unguarded, immodest girl so
she called herself as to care so very, very much, for one who
was simply kind to her. For all these dreams and fancies
THE WOOING O'T. 277
respecting his looks and tones which had nearly overturned
her reason in Paris with a mingled terror and delight that she
could never, never forget they were but dreams ; he thought
only of her as an honest little bread-winner, whom he would
like to help.
" And why should I not be true to myself, and accept him
as a kind patron, respecting him too much to suppose for an
instant he would think of me in any way that he would be
ashamed to avow ? "
Maggie felt quite strengthened by these profound reflec-
tions ; and so, feeling quite sure of her own prudence and
common-sense, she might surely permit herself to be happy.
Miss Grantham was so kind, and Grantham was such a
delightful place. It was altogether such a charming episode
in her life, that she was naturally inclined to enjoy it to the
full.
She therefore brushed her hair, and arranged her simple
black silk dress her best, alas ! and she felt obliged to
wear it every day, in compliment to the mourning of the
household ; and otherwise prepared herself for the delightful,
though awful, ordeal of luncheon.
CHAPTER XXII.
MAGGIE was fortunate in descending the stairs as the trio
from the drawing-room crossed the hall.
" Just in time, Miss Grey," said Miss Grantham, as she
followed Lady Dormer, who was leaning on the arm of a
stout, square, elderly gentleman, with twinkling black eyes
and a short throat.
" Glad to see you, Miss Grey," said Lady Dormer, with a
kind little nod. " Miss Grey Mr. Bolton," said the hostess.
u Wheeler, has Mr. Trafford returned ? "
" Yes'm. Just come in."
" Do you never take a gun now, Mr, Bolton ? "
"No, my dear lady," in a rich, slightly choky voice. " I am
quite content to eat the spoil of other people's."
" If I remember right, you used to shoot when I was a
little girl, I mean."
" I have had moments of folly," Mr. Bolton was beginning,
when Mr. Trafford came in and took his place beside Mag-
gie, and on Miss Grantham's right. He was immediately
278 THE WOOING O'TT
waited on by the three attendants with a subdued ardor very
expressive to Maggie's observant optics.
' : Well, Mr. Trarford, any sport ? " asked Lady Dormer.
" Nothing startling two brace and a half. I assure you,
Margaret, your preserves are fearfully poached ; and I
suppose will be till you turn sportsman yourself. I wonder
you don't. You have tried nearly everything ? Why not *
gun?"
"Nonsense. But I am vexed that Hood and his men are
so careless. You must row them for me, Geoff."
Maggie fancied she observed a triumphant sort of twinkle
in Mr. Bolton's eyes as Miss Gran th am spoke.
" What have you been about ? Perpetrated a murder o*
two, or made the virtuous hero whip the bad one ? "
" Really, Geoffrey, your expressions are painfully low."
" You must know, Bolton," continued Trafford, " that Miss
Grantham "
" Pray, pray remember, it is a secret ! " cried that lady, a
little eagerly. Do not be a traitor both to Miss Grey and
myself."
" Oh, if it is a secret, that alters the case. Bolton shall
not hear a word from me, not even if he tried, with the
diabolical art of his profession, to bribe me."
" Really, Mr. Bolton," said Lady Dormer, apologetically,
" young people indulge in strange language nowadays."
Miss Grantham laughed heartily, and Maggie joined. At
the once familiar sound of her frank, sweet laughter, Traf-
ford turned and offered her some grapes which stood before
him, observing that hunger and exercise had made him
obvious of every one's wants but his own. " It is a splendid
day, Margaret," he continued. " Frost not too hard. We
ought to start as soon as you can dress, and we may be able
to get round through Southam before it is dark."
" Very well. Oh, by the way, I had a letter from poor
Lady Brockhurst this morning. She writes in miserable
spirits from Paris. Lord Brockhurst had just started for
Algeria with his brother and a Doctor somebody. She is
obliged to return on account of the boys' holidays, and will
be at Southam next week. So much the better for me. But
she seems terribly cut up."
" Hum ! " said Trafford. " If she stays against her will, it
is a new rble for the fair viscountess. I suspect she considers
poor Brockhurst a good riddance."
" What an ill-natured, censorious creature you are, Geof*
THE WOOING O'T. 279
frey," cried Miss Grantham, rising. "Lady Dormer Mr.
Bolton, if you will excuse me, I will go and dress."
" May I come with you ? " said Maggie, in a low tone.
"Yes, certainly," in the most gracious voice ; and they left
the room.
" Well, Mr. Trafford, if you and Mr. Bolton will excuse
mf, I will go to the drawing-room ; it is warmer."
Trafford and Bolton rose as her ladyship withdrew.
Trafford nodded to the butler in token of dismissal. The
two gentlemen were alone.
"Who is that quiet girl with the soft eyes and pleasant
smile ? " asked Bolton.
" That quiet girl with the soft eyes, as you discriminatingly
remark," said Trafford, pouring out a bumper of sherry, and
then looking straight at his companion, " is the young lady who
objected to be Countess of Torchester."
" The deuce she is ! How, in Heaven's name, does she
come here ? "
" Answered Miss Grantham's advertisement for a secretary,
and promised to be I'enfant g&te of the establishment."
" Secretary ! What does she want with a secretary ? "
" Literary undertakings of some magnitude."
" Literary bosh ! It is frightful to think of this noble
property being in the hands of a fanciful, inexperienced girl.
She really ought to marry, Mr. Trafford."
" Why don't you tell her so ? You have rather more influ-
ence with her than most people."
" I fancy advice or suggestions, especially on such a subject
would be most acceptable from yourself. Really, Mr. Traf-
ford, it is impious to throw aside the fortune that seems to
court you."
" Court me ! Pooh, Bolton ! that is putting it rather
strong." And Trafford 's brow dropped rather sternly, which
the careful man of business observing, he steered deftly away
a point or two.
" Rather awkward, will it not be, when Lady Torchester
and the earl come ? "
" Yes ; and, by Jove ! my aunt will think I placed Miss
Grey here," cried Trafford, with a sudden recollection of his
intercession with the countess, and speaking without thought.
" Why should she take up so extraordinary an idea?" asked
Mr. Bolton, suspiciously, while Trafford cursed 1 his own heed-
lessness.
*Oh, Lady Torchester was anxious to do something for
280 THE WOOING ffT.
Miss Grey, to show that she was pleased with her ; and as I
saw the poor girl was not very happily placed, I suggested
that the countess should write to her. She did, and Miss
Grey never got the letter, so there was an end of it ; and
that's all. Pass the sherry, Bolton."
" Hum ! " said the sage. " It's all very queer ; and it will
oe uncommonly awkward. Could you suggest to Miss Grant-
ham "
" I will suggest nothing. And if you ever catch me med-
dling in any one's affairs amorous or otherwise you have
my permission to put me in the parish stocks."
" Are you ready, Geoff ? " said Miss Grantham, opening the
dining-room door. Trafford rose very readily.
" And what are you going to do, Mr. Bolton ? " continued
the hostess. Perhaps you would have come with Geoff and
me if I had thought of it in time ? "
" Indeed I should not, my dear young lady," said the old
lawyer, with an exceeding knowing smile. Even in Lincoln's
Inn we are aware that two are company and three are not."
Miss Grantham laughed and blushed, and frowned slightly.
" What will you do, then ? Drive with Lady Dormer ? "
" No, I am much obliged to you. I have work enough to
cut out in the library to fill up my time."
" Nevertheless, Mr. Bolton, your visit to Grantham must
not be all work."
" Even that couldn't turn Bolton into a dull old boy," said
Trafford, gayly. " Come, Miss Grantham, your steed and
your humble servant wait."
Maggie had descended by her mistress' invitation to see
her mount.
" Now, if you want assistance in your notes and queries,"
continued Trafford to the lawyer, " ask Miss Grey to help
you ; our gracious hostess gives her a high character for skill
and diligence."
" Yes, really, Mr. Bolton," said Miss Grantham, as she laid
her hand on Trafford's shoulder to mount, " Miss Grey is the
most perfect secretary in the world ;" and Miss Grantham
sprang lightly to her saddle.
" Much too perfect to be wasted on me," said Mr. Bolton,
with an echo as of a growl in his voice. Maggie felt fool-
ishly hurt at this rejection, and a little healthy stinging shoot
of dislike put forth a germ in her heart.
" Dispose of yourselves as you will," said Miss Grantham,
pleasantly, and rode away. Trafford's horse, fresher and not
THE WOOING O'T. 281
so well tempered as his companion, pranced and tried to bolt,
but was soon reduced to order ; his rider smiled a kindly
smile, and waved his hand to the quiet, slender figure stand-
ing on the steps and looking wistfully after them ; so the
equestrians passed out of sight.
Mr. Bolton made Maggie rather a grand bow, and stood
aside to let her pass. After a moment's hesitation she went
to Lady Dormer, in the drawing-room, and found that excel-
lent lady absolutely on her legs (to speak irreverently).
" Would you like to drive with me, Miss Grey ? I am
going now."
" Yes, very much, thank you."
" Then put on your bonnet ; it is a lovely day."
Lady Dormer made some praiseworthy attempts at conver-
sation during their tranquil drive, but on the whole Maggie
had ample time for undisturbed reflection. And she thought
very intensely of what was before her in the impending domes-
tication with Lord Torchester and his mother. "I should not
mind him so much as her, but she will be vexed to find me
here, and afraid of Lord Torchester's taking a fancy to me
again. And then my having left her letter unanswered ! I
wish they were not coming ! And Miss Grantham, I do not
think she would like the idea of Lord Torchester's whim
about me. I wish I could go away somewhere." Yet in her
heart she was glad she could not. Still Grantham was won-
derfully changed from the day before. There was no longer
the sort of tranquilizing hope, the consciousness of rest.
No ; there was instead a feverish mingling of dread and
pleasure, which yet she did not like to resign. And Miss
Grantham ; inexperienced as she was, Maggie could not help
thinking that Trafford possessed the long list of requirements
which the beautiful heiress had declared essential in a husband.
" I am afraid she loves him. Afraid why ? Because, whis-
pered her inner conviction, I do not think he loves her ; but
he will, he must ! she is so fair and kind and generous." At
this point of her meditations Lady Dormer exclaimed, " I
think that must be Miss Grantham and Mr. Trafford before
us."
Maggie looked ahead and recognised the equestrians.
They were proceeding leisurely at a foot-pace, evidently in
deep conversation, for Trafford's hand was on the crest of his
companion's horse, and his face was turned toward her.
They drew up to let the carriage pass. Lady Dormer inquired
252 THE WOOING O'T.
if they had had a pleasant ride, and if they were on their way
back.
" We have had the most charming gallop over Southam
Park," returned Miss Grantham, who looked radiantly hand-
some, " and we shall return by the Bridge and Hartley End."
" Why," cried Lady Dormer, in some dismay, you will not
be back till dark ? "
" Well, both Geoff and I know the country," returned Miss
Grantham, carelessly ;then to Maggie, " So you left poor Mr.
Bolton all alone, Miss Grey ? "
" He did not want me," replied Maggie, laughing, " and
Lady Dormer was good enough to say she did."
The carriage rolled on, and in due course set down its
freight considerably the fresher for their airing Lady Dormer
inviting Maggie to partake of afternoon tea with her, and in
her own mind pronouncing her to be a remarkably nice,
well-bred, unobtrusive young person. Maggie was glad to
escape as soon as she could from her ladyship's tea, and the
threatened elucidation of another pattern, to her room, in
order to fasten black ribbon bows on her white dress, for Miss
Grantham had said, " I shall send for you this evening."
And Maggie was sent for, and found the heiress and her
friends sipping their tea and coffee in another and superb
room, as it seemed to the little secretary. It was brilliantly
lit by a large chandelier full of wax lights, and contained a
grand piano, a harp, and some music stands.
Miss Grantham explained pleasantly that Miss Grey was
going to try over some songs with her, but they were not
accustomed to each other, etc. And then song after song
succeeded. Mr. Bolton, who had almost as keen an appreci-
ation of music as of claret and old port, listened and ap-
plauded heartily. Trafford lay back in an easy chair, from
which he could see the performers if he chose to look, but
his eyes seemed wholly or half closed, and he was so still
that he looked more like a recumbent lay figure than a living
man.
" Now, Geoff ! are you asleep ? " asked Miss Grantham, a
little impatiently, after she had sung a Schlummerlied.
" No, no," said he ; " only delightfully comfortable ; pray
go on." When it was over Mr. Bolton condescended to
remark that Miss Grey accompanied very fairly ; while Traf-
ford said, " Rather more grateful work than running after Mrs.
Berry's ' rapid acts' ? for I can think of no other term eh,
Miss Grey ? "
THE WOOING O'T. 283
" Very indeed," said Maggie. " I fancy if Miss Grantham
allows me to accompany her I must succeed by and by, it is so
delightful to me."
" You have improved marvellously," said Trafford to his
cousin, " but it is a long time since you and I have spent an
evening at Grantham together."
Miss Grantham said something in a low voice, and as Traf-
ford bent to hear it, Maggie discreetly turned away and began
to talk to Bolton, who appeared much more approachable
than in the morning, though she could not help thinking his
little twinkling eyes very searching.
Two more days passed very like the one just described.
Miss Grantham was scarcely five minutes at a time anywhere,
but on horseback Maggie went down regularly each evening
to the music-room.
She scarcely exchanged a word with Trafford, yet he
never quite let her feel she was overlooked or neglected.
He was rather silent, and accepted court from, rather than
offer it to, his cousin. Indeed, Maggie thought that she, even
as simple, humble, Maggie Grey, would have exacted more
homage. " But they are related and understand each other, for it
is impossible he can be indifferent ; but he seems changed, he
is not like the Mr. Trafford who danced with me at the ball."
" Miss Grey," said the mistress of the mansion, walking in-
to her room one morning, " I want you to come over to Cas-
tleford with me immediately after breakfast. Geoffrey has
absolutely persuaded Mr. Bolton to venture into the preserves,
and I have a special errand to Castleford ; pray wrap up, for
it is very cold."
Trafford and Mr. Bolton were waiting to hand the ladies into
Miss Grantham's special equipage.
" An early start! May I ask the object ? " said the for-
mer.
' Mysteries of shopping, beyond your comprehension."
' Then there are shops in Castleford ? "
' What disgraceful ignorance," said Bolton.
' Mr. Trafford is so provoking," said the fair charioteer,
after having driven a little way in silence.
* Is he ? " asked her companion.
' Yes, he is so indolent and apathetic. Mr. Bolton and I
almost quarrelled with him at breakfast. He might be any-
thing or do anything, but he won't. He ought to be in par-
liament." A long pause.
*84 THE WOOING OT.
" Miss Grey, do you know I am going into Castleford on
your account ? "
" On my account ! How can that be ? "
" Promise to take what I am going to say in good part and
not be unkind or disagreeable."
" Unkind me to you ? Impossible, in every way."
" Well, I have noticed that you very considerately wear
black since you came down here, and I thought that as you
are not wearing black on your own account you would not
mind accepting a couple of dresses from me. We are on the
way to order them."
" Miss Grantham ! you are only too kind and considerate.
I never dreamed of such a thing. If you really wish to give
them to me I shall of course accept them as frankly as they
are offered. But ought you not to wait and see if you con-
tinue "
" What should I wait for ? I am only so glad you are
pleased and do not try to do the grand. Poor dear Miss
Colby would have made me a speech a yard long ; by the bye,
I must write to her, but I seem never to have time for anything.
Really, to-morrow we must do something to the stoiy, and on
Tuesday the Torchesters will be here, and then Christmas."
" Yet it seems such a pity not to finish your story."
" Well, we must see about it. You never saw Lady Tor-
chester ! "
" Never."
" She is not handsome, but then she is very good. Tremen-
dously religious, and so fond of those wretched Low Clergy-
men, who look like Dissenters so different from our rector."
And Miss Grantham talked pleasantly at intervals till they
reached the little town of Castleford, which was in its way a flour-
ishing place. The grandest shop in the principal street \vas
Miss Moody's where the wealthy farmers' daughters thought
fashion itself lay enshrined.
" What an awful name ! " said Miss Grantham, laughing as
she drew up at the door. " She ought to change it to Ma-
demoiselle Modiste.
The lady of Grantham was received with the most pro-
found deference, the most obsequious attention, and, to do
her justice, she gave no unnecessary trouble. A rich black
silk was quickly chosen and ordered to be made up, and then
a thin black gauze or grenadine was picked out, and some
special directions given as to its being somewhat elaborately
fashioned as a demi-toilette dress. " Mind, Miss Moody, they
THE WOOING (?T. 285
must both be finished and ready for my messenger by eight
o'clock on Monday evening."
" Indeed, madam, this is a very busy time, and I almost
fear"
" Oh, nonsense ! If you cannot promise them on Monday
we shall retract the order and send to town for them. Come,
you must promise them on Monday and fulfil your promise."
" Well'm, rather than disoblige you in any way I will put
aside other work. And though this is always a busy time, it
will not be quite so busy as usual, on account of poor Mr.
Burge's sad illness."
"Why, what is the matter with him ! " asked Miss Gran-
tham, who was examining some bonnets with more curiosity
than admiration.
" Seme say apoplexy, and others congestion of the brain ;
but he fell quite sudden at the Town 'All on Saturday, and
they say has not spoken since."
" I am sorry to hear it," returned the heiress, thoughtfully.
" Lord Grantham had a great regard for him. Make
haste and fit on Miss Grey's dress, for I must drive round
and inquire for him before we go back."
" This Mr. Burge is the mayor and member for the town.
I think he was a tanner a very clever mau. He sometimes
came to dine at Grantham. I must call," said Miss Grant-
ham, and fell into a fit of musing which lasted till she had
made her inquiries at Riversdale, a very pretty but highly
tutored place on the outskirts of the town. The replies were
not very encouraging. Mr. Burge had been attacked with
congestion of the brain. Sir Savill Row had been telegraph-
ed for and had given hopes of his restoration. Miss Grant-
ham was exceedingly silent all the way back, but when about
half way across the park she exclaimed : " I have been medi-
tating a grand scheme ; perhaps I shall tell you some day.
When you take off your bonnet come into the study 4 I think
I shall need you there."
As soon as she entered the hall Miss Grantham asked,
" Has Mr. Bolton come in ? "
" Yes'm, some time ago."
" Ask him to come to me in the library," said she, and
walked away in the direction of that apartment.
Meantime Trafford had returned to the house with Mr.
Bolton, who speedily discovered that the cold struck to his
feet and would bring on gout. Finding no one in the draw-
ing-room but Lady Dormer, dozing over her crochet, Trafford
286 THE WO 01 KG OT.
retired to his own room, and sitting down to his writing-table,
wrote the day of the month rather slowly at the top of a sheet
of note paper, and a little lower down, " My dear Lady Tor-
Chester." Then he leant back and thought for awhile in a
desultory manner. It was curious that his suspicions, roused
by Miss Grantham's description of her delightful secretary,
should have been verified and that Maggie Grey should be
domiciled under the same roof with him ; curious, too, lhar
she should have answered Miss Grantham's advertisement
Had she then rejected the ourang of a cousin ! It was impos-
sible she could ever have thought seriously of him, yet cer-
tainly she had a tender recollect!' n of him in Paris. Paris !
what an idiot he had made of himself there ! Nevertheless,
what pleasant hours ^e had spent in that cool shady salon of
Mrs. Berry's From his soul he wished himself back there
with no thought for the morrow. It was strange how well
that simple humble born little Maggie stood the contrast with
her splendid patroness. " What is it in that girl that makes
her an individual everywhere herself always ? But I had
better write and tell Lady Torchester she is here. I wish I
could speak a word or two first with Maggie Miss Grey
and by Jove ! " looking up out of the window which com-
manded the approach, " there come the white ponies. I'll go
down to the study, ask for the precious MS., and try my
luck."
When Maggie came into the room a few minutes after she
found Mr. Trafford standing in one of windows. She was
quite composed, for the strange prescience with which sha
seemed gifted regarding him told her she would find him
there.
" What have you done with Miss Grantham ? "
"She has gone to talk to Mr. Bolton, in the library."
" I was greatly surprised to find you here, Miss Grey,"
said Trafford, taking his stand on the hearth-rug, as Maggie
sat down by the large writing-table.
" I suppose you were."
" I supposed a very different destiny for you," looking In-
tently at her ; but she did not raise her eyes. " Forgive me,"
he went on, " if I use the privilege of an old acquaintance,
are you happy here happier than with Mrs. Berry ? "
" I am not quite sure," returned Maggie, answering with a
fuller truth than she spoke, even to her own heart, raising
her eyes and looking straight into his. " Miss Grantham is
so kind and generous and beautiful," she went on with enthusr
THE WOOING OT. 287
\
iasm, " it is delightful to be with her ; but poor Mrs. Berry,
she was my first friend. I knew I was useful, almost essen-
tial to her, and equality is a grand ingredient in friendship,
affection, everything."
" Is it ? " said Trafford, mechanically, as she paused, for
he was thinking of her eyes. They were not great blue orbs
that challenged instant admiration, like Miss Grantham's ;
they were merely gray, darkly fringed and full, generally very
quiet restful eyes ; but once they began to speak their own
language to you, you could not help feeling curious as to
what they would say next. At this moment there was an
earnest outlook in them as if she was thinking of her past
more than her interlocuter.
" Now you know I cannot be of the smallest reai use to
Miss Grantham, but it is a great pleasure and advantage to
be with her, and I consider it a wonderful piece of good
fortune to have found her : so I will just try and enjoy the
sunshine while I have it. Is that not true wisdom, Mr.
Trafford ? " with a frank smile.
" Excellent philosophy. I always thought you a philoso-
pher, Miss Grey." A slightly awkward pause, during which
Trafford meditated how he could best introduce the Torches-
ter topic, and not finding a way exclaimed, " I suppose you
have quite lost sight of that old red republican you secluded,
au cinqu&me !"
" Oh, yes, quite, I am afraid," with a sad little smile. " Poor
Monsieur Du Val ! "
" I believe, in spite of all your enthusiasm for my charming
kinswoman, you would rather read his papers to him than
write her books."
" Just think what a treasure I should be to him. And do
you know, he was very lovable ? "
" In what does being lovable consist ? I wish you would
teach me," said Trafford, with his old smile and mannei.
Maggie felt a strange dull pain at her heart, but only smiled
and said, " I do not know myself."
" At all events," continued Trafford, in an altered tone,
" you have won Miss Grantham's heart ; but you must
remember that charming women have certain privileges of
variability so be prepared "
" Miss Grantham will always be loyalty itself," interrupted
Maggie. " But if you mean to warn me that I must not count
on too long a spell of rest and sunshine, I am quite aware of
it. In the first place. Miss Grantham does not really want
z88 THE WO 01 KG OT.
me, and in the second, she will soon marry, and then, as with
Mrs. Berry, my ' occupation ' would be ' gone.' " She paused
for a moment to gather courage, and, turning her head slightly
aside, presented Trafford with the side view of her face,
throat and little pink ear, which he so well remembered, went
on, blushing and hesitating. " There is one thing I wanted
so much to say to ask you about, just once. I have been
quite uncomfortable ever since I heard that Lord Torchestei
and his mother were coming, Not about him," she went on
hastily, for without seeming to look at Trafford, she was
aware that a smile was stealing around the corners of his
mouth ; " but I do dread meeting Lady Torchester, and I do
particularly wish that Miss Grantham would never know any-
thing abou* her cousin'? nonsei se about me she would not
like, she would somehow be displeased with me, and I do
want to rest here for a little while ; so if you could just tell
Lady Torchester not to say anything, I know Lord Torchester
will not."
" I shall do my best to carry out your wishes," said Traf-
ford gravely.
" You do not think it false or wrong in any way } " asked
Maggre simply. " You see I cannot help fancying that per-
haps Miss Grantham was the young lady you once mentioned
to me that Lady Torchester wished her son to marry, and it
would never do for her to know that "
" That he was your rejected suitor ? Certainly not. You
reason shrewdly ; but may he not become your suitor again ? "
put in Trafford. as he paused.
" Oh, no ! " with a sunny smile and shake of the head.
" It is not in Lord Torchester. He will never quite forgive
me for the mortification. Oh, I am not in the least afraid of
that."
" And are you still quite content to have thrown over an
earl and his rent-roll ? "
" Quite, quite," said Maggie, leaning her elbows on the
table, and resting her chin on her clasped hands. " I have
read that some wise old Greek used to write about the ' fit-
ness of things,' and I am sure I am not at all fit to be a
countess."
Trafford was too much occupied in observing the quiet
grace of her attitude to reply. There was a something of
sadness and resignation in it, but not the slightest tinge of ar
appeal for pity.
" No," she continued, for she had grown quite at ease whila
THE WOOING OT. 289
she talked, " all that is quite out of the question ; but if you
will tell Lady Torchester that Miss Grantham has no idea
that I am so anxious that it should not be known. I should
be so much obliged ; it would secure me a little longer the
quiet, the strengthening of such a resting-place as this before
I drift away to sea again. .Not that I fear doing so," she
idded hastily, half frightened, half resentful at the look of
tenderness and compassion that melted Trafford's dark eyes
into unusual softness. " To bear is to conquer one's fate,
you know," she added almost gayly.
" I feel quite sure your destiny is to ' conquer,' " replied
Trafford, looking steadily away from her, for he felt he dared
not trust his eyes. " But so far as the Torchester question is
concerned, you may consider it settled ; and if at any time
there is anything else I can do for you, pray let me know."
" Thank you very much. It is not likely what a long time
Miss Grantham is with Mr. Bolton ! I am sure the luncheon
bell must have rung."
"And I must go," said Trafford regretfully. "By the
way, I came to ask you for some of the novel ; can you give
me a specimen ? "
" Certainly. Here are three chapters."
" Thank you," said Trafford, taking them ; yet he lingered.
" Does your cousin, Mr. John Grey, return soon to Africa,
Australia, wherever he came from ? or perhaps he has
returned ? "
" He does not go back till next spring."
" Oh, indeed I Very delightful to meet an old friend and
champion again."
"Very," said Maggie with a sigh. After a moment's hesi-
tation Trafford left the room, and Maggie immediately flew
to her own.
The letter to Lady Torchester was finished in time for post
It was remarkably candid in tone. After a few preliminaries,
he continued thus : " Fancy my astonishment at finding
Tor's ' young lady,' Miss Grey, established here as secretary
to our fair princess. We were equally surprised to see each
other, as she had no idea that the houses of Torchester and
Grantham were connected. I find she is greatly alarmed at
the idea of encountering you, and equally fearful lest Marga-
ret should discover your son's episode concerning her. I
have therefore promised and vowed three things in your
name. First, that you would not say a word regarding Tor-
chester's temporary insanity; secondly, that you would be
90 THE WOC ING O'T.
graciously pleased to accept the expression of her regret
she was, though unconsciously, the means of causing you
temporary annoyance : and third, that you would be so good
as to understand that the letter you had the kindness to write
never reached her and allow her to explain the same. Now,
my dear aunt, I think you are bound to believe and do as I
have promised for you. It is also the wisest course ; and I
fancy I have penetrated the secret of my young prote'ge'e's
disinterested refusal of your son. She has been long attached
and is now, I fancy, engaged to a cousin of her own, who is
going out to the colonies somewhere, and she has probably
taken the place of secretary here while waiting her intended's
summons."
" There," said Trafford to himself, " I hope and believe
this last piece of intelligence is an utter falsehood. Still I
have every right to come to such a conclusion, nor am I
bound to give the countess the light of my inner conscious-
ness."
A few gossiping lines to the same effect were directed to
Lord Torchester, and Geoffrey went to luncheon with a lighter
spirit.
The first moment Maggie could speak to Miss Grantham
alone was in the drawing-room, after dinner.
" Mr. Trafford came to the study to-day while I was wait-
ing for you, and asked for some of your manuscript. I sup-
pose I was not wrong in giving it to him ? "
" Oh. no. I am rather pleased he took the trouble, but
you will see how he will cut it up. He does not believe in
anything I do," said Miss Grantham with an impatient, petu-
lent gesture.
" That is impossible," replied Maggie gravely. " But pei
haps," smiling, " he wants you to be perfection."
" He had better by fav be satisfied with what I am," said
Miss Grantham haughtily ; and then the object of their dis-
cussion joined them.
" So you are really reading my novel, Geoff ? What do
you think of it ? " asked Miss Grantham in a careless man
ner; but Maggie could detect a suppressed anxiety in her
voice.
" I shall not commit myself to any opinion till I have pur-
sued it with profound attention. The day after to-morrow ]
may pronounce judgment."
" Well, be sure you give me your real opinion, and be seri
cms about it."
THE WOOING O'T. 291
*' Am I not always sober and serious ? melancholy with
the weight of do-nothingness on my shoulders ? Do you
know, some old fellow-travelers of mine are talking of an
expedition to search for the source of the Nile, and I'm
strongly inclined to join them ? I dare say, Miss Grey,
your relative could give one some hints as to African travel-
ing."
" Perhaps so. He once went with some exploring party to
look for diamonds."
" And found none, or I am sure you would be sparkling
with them."
" Really, Geoffrey, there is plenty of work to be done at
home if you would allow Mr. Bolton and me to cut it out for
you," said Miss Grantham, rising to go into the music-room.
Trafford made no answer, and as she passed the chair in
which he was lounging she repeated her words, adding,
" Do you hear me ? and laying her white hand on his shoul-
der.
" I do, fair queen," said he, turning his head and kissing
the long, taper finger.
Miss Grantham blushed vividly, and drew her hand away
very gently, while she exclaimed, " You are the most quietly
audacious man in existence," but she spoke with a tender
smile and melting glance. The whole was a complete reve-
lation to the observant secretary, even as though both hearts
were laid bare before her. The noble, beautiful heiress had
given her whole soul to the plain, dark, gentleman-like kins-
man, who treated her as a spoiled child, while the lazy kind-
liness of his caress bespoke in Maggie's estimation almost
insulting indifference. What would she not give to warn her
admired friend ; to save her in some way from the pain and
mortification she felt were before her 1
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE almost dreaded Tuesday came on with terrible rapid-
ity for Maggie was kept tolerably well occupied in writing
lists, respecting donations of coal and beef and blankets-
which seemed to her on a scale of extraordinary magnifi-
cence. She also was constantly in attendance on Miss Grant-
ham, who made frequent visits to those parts of Castleford
which were occupied by her tenants, and showed a lively in?
892 THE WOOING OT.
terest in their well-being. " You see we can have no festivi
ties at Grantham this Christmas, so I must make up for it
somehow," she explained to Maggie.
But Maggie thought what was much more deserving of ex-
planation was the extraordinary interest taken by Mr. Bolton
in these benevolent proceedings, and the curiosity he evinced
\s to the politics of Castleford.
On Tuesday morning Maggie and Miss Grantham had been
over to Castleford, and inquired, as they generally did, fof
Mr. Burge. He was considerably better, but the doctors had
recommended complete rest and change to a warmer climate.
On their return, Miss Grantham had flown away in search of
Mr. Bolton, passing Trafford, who met them in the hall, with
a nod. So he had a moment to speak to Maggie : " I had a
line from Lady Torchester yesterday, and it is all right. Are
you satisfied ? "
" Quite satisfied ; and oh, so much obliged to you ! "
" By the way, I told Lady Torchester you had never re-
ceived her letter, but that you would explain. Pray be sure
to do so."
" I will ; that is, I will try if she is not very formidable."
" She is not, I assure you. I imagine Bolton and Miss
Grantham have some secret ; they are always in conclave."
" I have guessed it, and you will know, if you only ask, I
imagine," said Maggie, laughing gayly, in her relief at Traf-
ford's intelligence, and running away up stairs.
Trafford looked after her. " She has come out of it un-
scathed," he thought ; and then the memory of the little, cold,
trembling hand he had taken that wretched evening, when he
had bid her good-bye in Paris of the strained look of be-
wildered grief in those speaking eyes came back to him, as
it had often done before ; for on that occasion only had Traf-
ford caught a glimpse of Maggie's real feelings.
" Bah 1 it was only a feeling of her loneliness that affected
her; at any rate, she was soon consoled by her polished rel-
ative in the blue satin tie ! She has never denied any of my
insinuations about ' Cousin John.' I am really sick of this
place. I am in for the family gathering at Christmas ; but,
by Heaven, as soon as that is over, I'll be off, unless, indeed,
I see any signs of Torchester tormenting her and then
we'll see."
With no small trepidation, Maggie attired herself in her
new dress, to make her appearance on the memorable Tues-
day. Had it been only to meet Lord Torchester she would
THE WOOING ffT. 293
have been simply glad ; but his mother that was an ordeal.
" If sihe is cold and disdainful, it will make me miserable, at
least for a little while ; for if she does not turn Miss Grant-
ham against me why need I mind ? Only I do not want Mr.
Trafford to compassionate me, to look upon me as a pitiable
object, as I fancy he does. Heigho ! Oh J how I wish I
could manage to fall in love with Cousin John ! But it is
quite, quite impossible. I wish he thought so. It is a long
time since he has written."
And then she looked very closely to the details of hey
dress, and viewed herself critically in the glass. The thin
gauzy black looked well over her white neck and arms, her
smoothly braided brown hair rolled up so neatly into a thick
knot at the back, suited admirably the perfect outline of her
head, her unpretending style.
" It is hardly worth thinking so much how I look, I shall
be scarcely seen," she thought smiling, not unpleased at her
own reflection. " But that does not trouble me. Yet how
charming it must be to know that some one watches for you,
and rejoices to see you look well. Ah, what folly for me to
think such things. But, perhaps, it may come to me some
day, if I am a good girl as the children say."
" And she stole down to the drawing-room in good time,
that she might be safely landed before the ladies came from
the dining-room. She sat down on a low chair at the further
end of the room from the grand fire that blazed and glowed
so gorgeously, and took up a newspaper ; but she could not
read ; she was acting over again the scenes of her life in
Paris. She saw Lord Torchester come into Mrs. Berry's sa-
loon and say, " I have come for you, Miss Grey." What a
delightful day it was at Versailles 1 How good Lord Tor-
chester was ! How long ago it seemed how much older she
seemed to herself now ! And then that evening when Lord
Torchester brought Mr. Trafford to her tea-table, and she felt
half angry, half frightened, at his searching, grave dark eyes ;
but the opening door roused her, her heart beat a tall lady
in black velvet and bugles, and a showy-looking head-dress
of white crtpe lisse, with jet ornaments, walked in, and straight
up to the fire, without seeming to see that there was any one
in the room. Lady Dormer and Miss Grantham followed.
The latter turned toward her secretary. " How nice you
look!" she said, quickly, in a low voice. "The dress does
admirably ; come, I must introduce yow." Maggie, encour-
aged, though blushing vividly, followed her patroness. The
294 THE WOOING OT.
countess, still standing before the fire, was speaking slowly
and emphatically to Lady Dormer, who had sunk into her
usual arm-chair:
"A more conscientious and truly Christian young man I
had never met, and if Margaret would only exert her "
"Let me present my secretary, Miss Grey, to you, Lady
Torchester," said the young hostess.
Lady Torchester made the slightest possible courtesy, and
looked full into Maggie's face but with a smile. Maggie
thought that, apart from voice and manner, the countess was
rather a common-looking woman. " I am quite puzzled what
you can possibly have for a secretary to do. That you should
have Miss Grey for a companion seems perfectly natural ;
but one associates a secretary with parliamentary business
and blue books."
" I am quite willing that Miss Grey should be my compan-
ion. So call her what you like "
"There is something rather masculine and pretentious in
a 'secretary,' do you not think so yourself, Miss Grey?"
" I am not sure ; a secretary is a person who writes, and I
do write for Miss Grantham."
" And a companion suggests the idea of a charming victim
to some Gorgon of an old maid with a vicious pug. Now
Miss Grey may be ever so charming, but she is not a victim ?"
" No, indeed ! " cried Maggie, with a gay laugh.
Lady Torchester looked at her with some interest, and then
resumed the subject from which she had diverged ; this was
a glowing eulogy on an admirable young curate for whom she
wished to secure Miss Grantham's interest with the rector.
The heiress listened weariedly, glancing sometimes at the
door by which the gentlemen would enter ; and Maggie tak
ing up Lady Dormer's crochet, went on with it mechanically,
while she contrived to study Lady Torchester 's appearance.
She was, of course, quite different from what her fancy had
painted. The countess was a large, solemn-looking woman,
with a slightly wandering expression, which reminded Maggie
of Lord Torchester, and conveyed the idea of being terribly
in earnest ; yet she did not seem cold or unkindly ; rather
unsympathetic from slowness of comprehension.
At last Miss Grantham rose from the sofa where she had
been sitting beside the countess, saying, " Well, I will speak
to the dean about him, but I do not think it will do much
good," and walked into the next room.
When she was gone, Lady Torchester asked, "What is
THE WOOING VT. 293
your work. Miss Grey ? " slightly moving her dress as she did
so, as if inviting her to her side.
Maggie immediately accepted the invitation. " It is Lady
Dormer's, but I sometimes help her."
" Pretty," said Lady Torchester, carelessly, and then be-
came silent.
Maggie nerved herself ; now was the moment to speak to
Lady Torchester about her letter, and have done with it
Blushing brightly, and in a low, tremulous voice, Maggie be-
gan : " Mr. TrafTord told me you had been so very good as
to write to me, and I have been so anxious to tell you I never
received the letter. It must have come to Paris after we
left, as I never thought of any one writing to me ; I left no
address."
" I was sorry you did not get It. but as it has turned out it
was of no consequence. You could nor be better placed than
with Miss Grantham."
" Oh no, indeed ? She is so good and so delightful. But
I should like you to know how much obhged I am to you
how "
" I understand," said Lady Torchester, smiling indulgently ;
and just then the door opened, and the earl and Mr. Bolton
entered together. The moment he crossed the threshold
Maggie was conscious of a change in her former admirer.
He looked older, browner, more erect and assured. An ex-
pression of amused surprise came into his face when his eyes
fell on his former divinity sitting quietly by his lady mother,
and smiled upon by the countess. Trafford, and a tall, large,
elderly jovial-looking man, with profuse reddish-gray mus-
taches and whiskers, whom Maggie had never seen before,
followed.
" Miss Grey," said the earl, walking straight up to her and
shaking hands cordially, " I am very glad to see you. I never
was more surprised than when Geoff Trafford told me you
were here." Drawing a chair beside her, Lord Torchester
sat down, while the lines of his mother's face gradually con-
tracted into an expression of watchfulness and anxiety. " So
you are Miss Grantham's secretary? What do you write
about ? Is she not a jolly girl ? "
" How can you use such an expression ? " cried Maggie,
indignantly, all her old frank ease toward the earl returning
to her. " Miss Grantham is like a young princess."
" Well, there were lots of very jolly girls princesses at St,
Petersburg."
296 TffE WOOING OT.
"Not like our princess," cried Maggie; "I'm sure of
that."
" Miss Grey is quite right," said the countess, gravely. " It
is a most objectionable and inappropriate expression, and I
m sure Margaret would not like it."
" She scarcely ever likes anything I say ; but I can't be
dumb, for all that. Now what do you do with yourself all
day not write letters ? "
" A secretary is bound to keep the secrets of the cabinet,"
said Maggie.
The countess looked a little aghast at the easy tone of this
badinage.
" Look," said Trafford to Bolton, as they stood together,
coffee-cups in hand, at the other end of the room. " Look at
Lady Torchester's face. I must take Tor off somehow."
Through the open door he saw Miss Grantham in the music-
room, leaning against a high-backed chair, talking to the stout
stranger. Trafford set down his cup, and coming up to the
group on the sofa, said, " Excuse me, Torchester, but Miss
Grantham wants Miss Grey's assistance in the music-room/'
" Very well," she replied, rising, rolling up her work, and
carefully depositing it in Lady Dormer's basket.
Trafford offered his arm. " I was afraid to trust you any
longer," said he. You must not delude Tor again."
"There is no danger; and I was so glad to see him. It
quite took me back to Paris dear Paris ! "
" Yet you had not your Cousin John there," and Trafford
looked down to see how she would take the thnist.
Maggie amused and a little nettled, looked up defiantly,
and replied, " No, but I had my idea of him."
"Which has, no doubt, been amply realized," added Traf-
ford. But Maggie would not answer either by lip or eyes.
" We are famishing for a song," said Trafford, " so I have
brought Miss Grey to deprive you of the shadow of an
excuse."
" Oh I I shall be very happy ; but, Colonel Molyneux, do
go and ask the countess to come. Say I want her opinion of
my performance."
The whole party was soon assembled in the music-room,
and Maggie thought she observed, through all the sparring
that went on between the earl and his cousin, a decided,
though suppressed, admiration on his part for the beautiful
th&telaine. She sang unusually well, as she was always excited
by the chance of fresh triumphs, for even her adoring secre-
THE WOOING VT. 297
tary was obliged to see that the joy of her heart was to win
the admiration of every man, woman, and child who
approached her ; and the individual who withheld that tribute
was, pro tern., the most important personage.
" I fear this is a great risk," said Lady Torchester to
Trafford, under cover of an eager dispute between Miss
Grantham, Lord Torchester, and the stout Colonel, as to the
merits of Jenny Lind and Grisi. " You see he was instantly
attracted."
" I think it would have been a worse symptom if he had
avoided her. His ease and frankness are most reassuring,
and what can't be cured, etc. Here we are, we* must make
the best of it," returned Trafford.
" Of course. She is really a nice girl ; perfectly lady-like.
If Torchester were married, I think I should not mind having
her for a companion myself. Her stay with Margaret is of
course uncertain ; but you think it not improbable Miss Grey
is herself engaged ? "
"Well, I have an idea she is only an idea; of course
Miss Grey does not make a confidant of me. I have not
spoken half a dozen words to her since I came into the
house."
" Nevertheless, Geoffrey," said his aunt, suspiciously,
" you always seem to know more about her than any ont
else."
" Intuition, I suppose," carelessly.
"Don't you think it very wrong of Torchester to bring
Colonel Molyneux down here ? He is a man I have a great
objection to ; not even good style."
" He is rather of the sounding-brass order, but not a bad
sort of fellow, and I think it was rather a good idea of your
son's, because a family party in a house without a male head,
though charming in many ways, is rather slow." The
countess shook her head. " You know," continued Trafford,
" Margaret rather took a fancy to him in Scotland."
" And what have you done with Mrs. Berry ? " said Lord
Torchester, who was leaning on the piano, to Maggie, who
was sitting at it.
" She suddenly married Monsier De Bragance, and has
quite disappeared."
" What, that clever scamp ? Poor woman, won't he lick
her 1 I say, Molyneux, didn't you know something of Bra-
gance here in London, I mean ? "
*' Yes, a long time ago eight or nine years ago."
898 THE WOOING O'T.
What was he then?"
" Why, a distinguished foreigner."
The colonel seemed rather reserved. Soon after, Ladj
Torchester said she was tired, and the party broke up.
The gentlemen kept together a while longer, and the
colonel was more communicative respecting M. De Bragance
than he seemed disposed to be before the ladies.
" I'll come to your room, Geoff, and have a weed, before I
retire," said the earl. " I want to talk to you."
" Enter then," returned his kinsman.
" How well Margaret Wallscourt is looking," said Lord
Torchester, after smoking a few moments in silence.
" Very well." A pause.
" She has turned out a much finer girl than I expected ;
but she is always the same with the tongue, so deuced ready,
she takes a fellow's breath away."
" She does, rather." Another pause.
" Still she does not mean the half she says."
" Very likely."
" Why, Geoff ! you seem to think your words worth theii
weight in gold, you are so stingy of them. Don't you see J
want to talk ? "
" Well, talk, for Heaven's sake."
" Yes, but I want you to talk too. What have you been
doing since you came down ? You have been here ten days
and more."
"Not much shooting and arguing with old Bolton,
riding and talking metaphysics with our beautiful cousin."
" Metaphysics ! Making love, you mean ? Well, there is no
reason why you should not."
" Perhaps so," said Trafford, coolly ; " but I am not inclined
to do it. Margaret, in my opinion, will be a more lovable
woman eight or ten years hence than she is now."
" By Jove, what a notion 1 Why she will be thirty by that
time."
" It will take her that time to know herself and the life
that is round her. At present she is like the juice of the
grape in its first stage, with all its flavor and strength and
richness in a ferment. You cannot tell what she will be ;
but she is a fine creature, though awfully overweighted with
fortune."
" I think she is very fond of you, Geoff ? "
" She is, rather, just now ; she doesn't think she has
reduced me to a proper state of subjection. If that could b
THE WOOING CfT. 299
accomplished, why, I should fall rapidly in her estimation*
However, I am really very fond of her."
" I thought so," said the earl, puffing vigorously.
"I have a fatherly regard for her, and should be most
happy to bestow a paternal blessing on her union with
yourself, lor instance."
" Oh, you would ! You are really not hit ? Well, I am not
in love with her or any one, thank God, and don't intend to
be."
" Right, most potent signer. It would hardly be decent to
recover so quickly and plunge in medias res over again."
" Well, I was a great ass," said the earl, good-humoredly ;
" but I was a lucky one. What a nice little thing she is,"
he went on musingly. " I mean Miss Grey. Do you know,
I was so glad to see her, I felt inclined to give her a kiss.
She is such a sensible, true-hearted brick, and stuck so gal-
lantly to the man she liked in spite of my rank and fortune,
and all that."
Trafford looked hard at the speaker, but all was honest
and sincere in the expression of his frank, common-place
countenance.
" What is this cousin of hers ? Could one give him a lift
anyhow ? "
" I know nothing whatever of him. So you are perfectly
reconciled to your loss, ready to resign the divine party to
another's arms ? "
" Yes," said the earl placidly, and evidently quite recon-
ciled to Maggie, by the idea that her affections had been
engaged before they had met. " I dare say, though, if I had
married her I should have been tremendously fond of her ;
but marriages of this sort are great folly. I seem to have
come to my senses from the moment she refused me. I shall
never forget opening the door to-night, and seeing her and
my mother talking so sweetly together. What an extraordin-
ary chance to find her here ! I hope Margaret will never know
what an ass I made of myself about her. Now Margaret is
one of the disinterested ones she must be, she has so much
of her own, eh ? Nearly all the women you meet are so dis-
gustingly greedy about rank and settlements " the earl
looked at Trafford inquiringly.
" Margaret may be ambitious," he replied, choosing a fresh
cigar " But I should say perfectly disinterested."
" At any rate, Maggie Grey is. If one woman is, why
shouldn't another ? " resumed the earl, logically. " I remera
3x THE WOOING OT.
ber the first day I ever saw her alone wasn't it nice ! You
know Mrs. Berry's salon was so shady, and cool, and full of
flowers ? "
" Yes ; " Trafford remembered it.
" Well, the first time I ever had a quiet talk with her she
told me I reminded her of her cousin John."
" Then I wish to Heaven you could see cousin John, and
you would be flattered," said Trafford with unusual energy.
" Why how have you seen him ? You seem to know
more of Miss Grey than I thought."
"I was trying that chestnut Molyneux persuaded me to
buy in the park the day before we started for St. Petersburg,
when I met her walking with the said cousin, very lovingly,
arm in arm."
"Well?"
" She looked confused, blushed, and introduced the relative,
who called me ' Sir.' "
" The deuce he did ! So you think it is all fixed ? "
" I cannot possibly tell."
" I wonder you did not mention this to me before."
" Why, of course, I thought it better not." Another pause,
and then in an altered voice Trafford asked what horses the
earl had brought, as the Castleford hounds met constantly in
the neighborhood. " I have sent for the chestnut and Prince
Henry mys,elf," continued Trafford, " and expect them to-
morrow." The conversation then became of horses, horsey,
and the earl grew even more animated than when the talk
was on a nobler theme.
The following Saturday was Christmas Day, and the inter-
vening time flew by with great rapidity. The lady of the
house went out on two occasions to see the hounds throw off,
and the gentlemen were quite animated in their evening dis'
cussions on the events in the field. Mr. Bolton took a quiet
ride to and fro over with Miss Grantham, who spent some
time one evening in the vain attempts to persuade her
secretary to mount and ride. " You would soon learn," said
the heiress, " and it would be very nice for me to have a lady
with me."
" I should only be an incumbrance to you at present,"
urged Maggie, dreadfully confused to find herself the centre
of a group, all waiting for her decision. " If you still wish
it, and I am here in the spring, I will learn, provided the
great Mr Andrews will condescend to teach me."
" You were always shy of riding, Miss Grey," cried Lord
THE WOOING O'T. 301
Torchester. " Do you remember how I tried to persuade you
in Paris ? "
" Miss Grey is quite right, as I must say she generally is,"
said Lady Torchester quickly. " If you want a companion
in your rides, why do not you ask Alicia Longmore ? "
" My dear countess, how can you suggest such a thing ?
However, Lady Brockhurst will be here next week, and then
I shall have an ally par excellence" Lady Torchester shook
her head.
As Miss Grantham was dressing for dinner the day before
Christmas Day, Maggie tapped at her door.
" May I speak to you a moment ? " She was a little confus-
ed, and blushing.
" Certainly, only pray don't tell me you are going away."
" No, no ; but I have had a letter from my cousin John ;
he wants to come down to see me. Indeed, I cannot prevent
him, and I am afraid you may not like it."
" Yes, of course I shall. Ask him down, by all means. I
will speak to Nurse to look after him. Only mind, he must
not take you away directly."
"I assure you, Miss Grantham, there is no likelihood of
such a thing, not the least."
" Well, well, we wili see. At any rate, it will be nice for
you to have one of your own people. Cdcile, call Nurse to
me. When is your cousin coming, dear ? "
And on the spot Maggie's right royal protectress gave
orders for the honorable reception of Mr. John Grey, jun.
" Christmas is the time for cousins to crop up, as Geoffrey
would say. Grantham Longmore arrived to-day while you
were out with Aunt Dormer. It is wonderful how well you
get on with the old ladies. The countess declares you are
the very essence- of prudence and common sense that your
being sent to a cast-away like myself was a direct answer to
prayer ; but whose she doesn't mention. Remember, you
must dine with us to-morrow. I will sing * Robert toi que
j'aime' to-night. Geoff Trafford says it is only fit for the
stage."
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHRISTMAS DAY was all that Christmas day ought to be-
clear, crisp, bright. The park not buried in snow, but spark-
302 THE WOOING VT.
ling all over with frost, sufficiently hard to arrest the hunter's
progress.
" I am going to walk to church ; will you ? " said Miss
Grantham, coming into Maggie's room, in out-door dress.
" Yes, I should like it very much ; and oh, Miss Grantham !
what a beautiful writing-case I found here this morning. I
never had anything so beautiful before. And your dear, kind
note, I shall treasure it quite as much ; but who am I to thank
for this ? "
And she held up a small morocco case, wherein crochet
needles and scissors, a tatting shuttle, and all kinds of imple-
ments, in oxidized silver, most artistically designed, lay im-
bedded in violet velvet.
" That is very pretty," said Miss Grantham, taking it up
and examining it lovingly.
" Who could have sent it ? "
" Mr. Trafford," said Miss Grantham, still so occupied
with the case that she did not see Maggie's quick, delighted
blush. " He has given us all such charming things ; see, I
have put on my present."
It was a gold chatelaine, of evident antiquity and consider-
able value. " He said it would remind me of my duties as a
housekeeper ; and I showed him your writing-case. He said
he fancied you were more aufait with the needle than the
pen, and that he would send you a needle-case. It is really
very nice. Geoff is a good fellow, in spite of his sneers at my
theatrical singing. Put on your things you will find me in
the hall."
Maggie hastened to comply, her heart beating very happily.
Humble as she was, how kindly Mr. Trafford always treated
her, never failing to testify his friendship, his respect. Would
she not be worse than a fool if she were not perfectly satisfied
with such an amount of feeling ? And then, by the time Miss
Grantham and Mr. Trafford were married for to this culmi-
nation she always looked she would have become quite ac-
customed to the idea, and perhaps both would remain her fast
friends, and she might get rid of the awful sense of isolation
that often oppressed her.
Meantime Miss Grantham walked down stairs and finds
the gentlemen who were to escort her to the village church,
the spire of which, seen through an opening of the woods,
was one of the many points of view from the house.
Lord Torchester was talking to Mr. Longmore in one of
th windows about the probable duration of the frost.
THE WOOING OT. 303
" What keeps us ? " asked Trafford, joining Miss Grantham
as she stood by the fire.
" Miss Grey ; she will be down directly." Trafford glanced
at the two gentlemen in the window. " They will secure their
places on the right hand and on the left, so it will be my duty
to escort Maggie ; that is absolutely necessary," he thought,
and had just opened his lips to say what a good idea it was to
xvalk to church, when Miss Grantham, as if in continuance,
interrupted him.
" She is happy enough, poor little thing, this morning."
" Why ? " asked Trafford, curiously.
" Her cousin is coming down to see her to-morrow."
" Oh, indeed ! "
" Here she is. Come gentlemen ;" and Miss Grantham
walked to the door. Trafford looked up as Maggie descended
the stair. Miss Grantham was right. There was a wonder-
ful bright sweetness in her face, dimpling round her lips,
darkening her eyes. Was all this for that unlicked cub of a
cousin ? Impossible ! Yet had she not been used to him
from childhood, he must seem very different in her eyes.
Trafford fell in naturally with Maggie. Miss Grantham
walked on in front, with the cousins in attendance.
" What a lovely Christmas morning ! It is a long time
since I saw one so bright," said Maggie, quite unable to hold
her tongue, as Trafford did not seem inclined to talk.
" Indeed ! Where were you last Christmas ? "
" At Nice ; and Mrs. Berry was very unwell and rather
cross."
" So you were triste, I suppose ? "
" Yes, I was, very. Then Christmas is nicer in England
than anywhere."
" /have enjoyed it very much at Bagdad."
" Bagdad ! What an extraordinary place to spend Christ-
mas ! You ought to have brought the wonderful lamp away
with you, at least."
" I wish I had ; at any rate I ascertained that there were
still forty thieves, and more, to be found there. So you like
Christmas best in England ? "
" My idea of Christmas is the English one ; but indeed,
the four or five I passed with Uncle and Aunt Grey are not
30 pleasant to think about."
" So they have left Beverly Street ? "
" Yes : but how do you know ? "
Trafford smiled, half vexed with himself for having made
304 THE WOOING OT.
the observation, and yet curious to see how she would take
the unavoidable reply to her question.
" When Lady Torchester received no answer to her letter,
I rode past one morning, intending to ask if you weie still on
the Continent, and found the house shut up. I feared you
had gone away into space, and would be seen no more. I
little thought I should be escorting you to church on Christ-
mas day."
Maggie made no reply ; she was almost terrified at such a
marked interest. He had thought of her, he had tried to
trace her ! What could it mean ? A sudden intuition of the
close but unacknowledged link between them flashed across
her so overpoweringly that instead of coloring she turned pale.
Fortunately, Miss Grantham looking back at that moment,
asked what had become of Colonel Molyneux.
" He always selects Sundays and festivals for letter-writing.
We left him with a box of cigars and a pile of correspondence.
Miss Grantham went on, and Maggie was herself again, un-
conscious of any change of color.
" You are really very good," she said, after a little pause ;
M you have always been " trying hard to think him just a
friendly superior, and nothing more. "I was so pleased with
the beautiful needle-case. Miss Grantham told me about it.
It was so kind of you to think of me."
" Should auld acquaintance be forgot ? " said Trafford,
while he thought, " I wish I could keep you out of my head."
" Remember, I expect the first fruits in the shape of things to
put round one's wrist, or a purse, or something."
" Oh, you shall have both if you will," cried Maggie, with
all the sweet, frank gayety which had so charmed him from
their first meeting, and which of late he had somehow missed.
" You are quite yourself, your old self this morning, Miss
Grey," he could not keep back the words, " coming events
sometimes cast their light, as well as their shadows, before."
" What do you mean ? " asked Maggie, opening her eyes.
" Why, you are naturally pleased at the idea of seeing
your cousin to-morrow." They had reached a stile close to
the church, as he spoke, a very civilized easy stile ; but still
Trafford was bound to offer some assistance, and stood at
the further side with upraised hand. His words struck
Maggie with a sense of guilt and ingratitude ; she had utterly
forgotten the expected visitor, and even her original wish
that he would not come. So as she looked down into Traf-
ford's eyes from the top of the stile a sudden change passed
THE WOOING O'F. 305
over her face, and it said so plainly, " That is a trouble you
need not have reminded me of," even while her lips said,
" Yes, it is a long time since we met at Christmas," that, in
spite of reason and self-control, and all the schooling to
which he had subjected himself, he could not prevent his
fingers from closing over the little hand placed in them,
more tightly and lingeringly than he ought. A few minutes
after, they were kneeling in the church, and while Trafford,
with well-bred observance, was repeating the responses, he
repeated over and over to himself, " Heart-free, even though
engaged."
Grantham Church was a very old, gray, much-repaired little
edifice, where the bosom of architectural and ritualistic
reform, had not, as yet, swept away high square pews and a
box-like pulpit. Indeed, at the date of our story, the ritual-
istic tide had hardly gathered headway, and the rector, an
excellent old country gentleman, charitable, easy, scholarly,
could scarce have been roused, either to innovation or
resistance. He would have been terribly at the mercy of a
determined, gentleman-like curate in a single-breasted coat
with a standing-collar. As yet, this thorn had been spared
his comfortable flesh. He read admirably, and his curate, a
mild young man in spectacles, relieved him of the earlier
portions of the service in a manner modeled on his own.
The Grantham pew was a small room, with breast-high
walls, and luxurious though faded appliances for devotion.
Maggie observed the second largest pew, decorated like
their own by a coronet and a cipher, was occupied by a party
of two ladies, two schoolboys, and an elderly gentleman. It
had always been empty before.
One of the ladies, very small, very fair, with pale golden
hair and large languishing dark eyes, looked frequently at
their pew, and once smiled at Miss Grantham. She was
exquisite in dress and style : her costume of black velvet and
sable, her bonnet enlivened with marabout feathers tipped
with blue and toned down with rich point lace, bespoke an
elegante of the first quality. The service (which was managed
with the nicest possible balance between presto and adagio)
over, Miss Grantham stopped in the porch, while the gentle-
men in attendance waited in the churchyard or assisted the
countess, Lady Dormer, and Mr. Bolton into the carriage,
which had conveyed them to the church by a more circuitous
route. Lady Brockhurst (as the exquisite stranger proved to
be) met Miss Grantham with much warmth. She stood ou
30
306 THE WOOING OT.
tip-toe to bestow a little gracious kiss on her friend ; then the
two boys were called up and noticed, and the ladies moved
slowly to the gate, where the Brockhurst equipage waited, and
stood there a few moments laughing and talking with much an-
imation. Lord Torchester was called and presented, and the
mignonne viscountess held out her hand to Trafford most
graciously, and bowed distantly to Grantham Longmore, who,
finding himself somewhat in the position of an outsider with
Maggie who was trying to read the half-effaced inscriptions
on the old tombtones while she waited addressed her for the
first time, and so saved himself from seeming quite neglected.
He only abused the high pews, and said there was a strong
feeling against them at Oxford. Then Lady Brockhurst got
into her carriage, and saying, " Monday, then, at two ; and I
shall expect you, Mr. Trafford," drove away.
" Come, Miss Grey come, Grantham ! if you are not too
absorbed. I am quite cold ; let us walk quickly."
The little party kept more together on their homeward way,
and Mr. Longmore assisted Maggie over the stile this time.
Miss Grantham went into raptures over Lady Brockhurst, her
bonnet, her charming manner, her kindness, etc., to all of
which Trafford gave quiet, stinging replies, which proved his
aversion to that fascinating lady.
" I suppose, then, since you are so stupid as to believe all
the ill-natured things people say," cried Miss Grantham, with
some asperity, "you will not come over to luncheon at
Southam on Monday ? "
"No, I shall not; and I wish you would ride with me
instead, for I think of going to town on Tuesday."
" But you will return ? " said Miss Grantham, quickly,
coloring as she spoke.
" Not at present. You have been wonderfully amiable to
have given me house room so long."
" Oh, Geoff, that is all nonsense ! You must stay and see the
old year out. I will hear no more about it not a word.
Torchester, you will come with me to Southam, will you not ?
Lady Brockhurst says she has one or two amusing people
whom she met at Paris staying there.'*
" I am at your orders," and then the earl and his cousin
walked on ; Trafford kept with Maggie and Mr. Longmore.
The gentlemen, however, did all the talking, and their quiet
companion listened and was very happy ; though all the time
she was fighting hard to keep a certain sentence from
repeating itself with a silvery sound as of joy-belis, over and
THE WOOING O'T. 307
over again : " I rode past one morning, intending to ask if
you were still on the Continent." So she had not been quite
forgotten and unheeded. There was a place for her, small
though she was, and of " no reputation," in a memory that
must be so full of grand subjects and profound learning ; but
she could not quite banish those delicious " peals of merry
music from the belfry of her heart," or rather while she
silenced them one moment she listened for them the next.
Altogether, Christmas Day at Grantham was a very bright
bit in memory's tesselated pavement.
Luncheon was waiting when they reached the Hall, and
Maggie was quite delighted with the beautiful decorations of
the dining-room. Lady Torchester had a good deal to say
respecting the coldness of the service and the lukewarm
nature of the sermon. She wished for the poor dear rector's
own sake that he had Mr. Blackmore for a curate. Mr.
Blackmore would, perhaps, open his eyes a little to his own
condition.
Then the objectionable Colonel Molyneux, who seemed to
enjoy his luncheon as if he had walked to church and back
instead of staying at home like a heathen, observed that he
thought the rector looked in capital condition, and Miss
Grantham said she thought at his age he was not likely to
change, even for the most evangelical curate.
Lady Torchester, while accepting another cutlet, remarked
gloomily that she did not allude to his physical condition.
" He is subject to severe sore throats in winter," said Lady
Dormer, " and perhaps change might do him good."
Then Miss Grantham asked Lady Torchester if she did
not think she might ask Lady Brockhurst and her party over
to dinner some day, and Lady Torchester said decidedly not ;
and there was a good deal of talk about London, in which
Maggie did not join, but sat enjoying the warmth and beauty
of the room, with its rich crimson draperies and Turkey car-
pet, the glowing fire, throwing bright facets of light and color
on the dark polished furniture and crystal and silver, me not-
house flowers and ferns lending their own peculiar grace and
perfume to the table, the glimpse through the windows of
endless branchlets and twigs and smooth-leaved evergreens,
all sparkling in the crisp frost, the sound of animated voices
it was a pleasant hour.
Dinner was a very brilliant affair indeed in Maggie's eyes,
Trafford took her in, and she sat between him and Mr. Bol-
ton, who talked a great deal to her and was quite civil.
308 THE WOOING O'T.
Then there was music, and not a little desultory talk, and
Christmas Day was gone. Maggie marked it with a white
stone in her own mind ; every one had been kind and civil,
and she had not felt one bit de trop in that grand com-
pany.
The next day was equally bright and sparkling, still it had
not the same glory to Maggie. She drove soberly to church
with Lady Dormer, and returned in good time to await
Cousin John's arrival, as he was to come down by an early
train. Miss Grantham had directed that a conveyance
should be sent to Castleford, so Maggie retired to her own
quarters with a book, but not to read.
No ; she sat and thought steadily over all John's acts of
kindness to her in old times. How, when a broken-hearted
little waif, her uncle had brought her from the sweet, tender
home of her childhood and the loveliness of her lost mother's
love, she had groped about in the thick darkness which
closed round her darkness that might be felt! for some-
thing, anything, to cling to and love Cousin John put him-
self in her trembling hands. And though he was rough, his
roughness never hurt ; nay, his fierce, unfaltering opposition
to his step-mother, cheered her by a sort of contagion. Did
he not bring her stray bits of taffy, and even an occasional
bull's-eye ? With what confidence, when extra miserable, had
she not sometimes rushed into his arms and sobbed on his
shoulder. And when once, not long before he left her, the
loneliest little wretch in existence, he had had a bad cold,
was she not proud to carry up his cup, when he was per-
mitted the luxury of taking his tea in bed ? With what
pleasure she had received his letter in Paris, and looked for-
ward to meeting him ! Between that time and the present a
great chasm had yawned, and throw in what precious things
she might of gratitude or memory, it would not close. Then,
though she always remembered John an uncouth and unat-
tractive creature, he had a certain humility, even in his
strength and courage, which was touching ; now, he was de-
stroyed by the materialism of success ; he thought himself
destined to go forth conquering and to conquer. Apart from,
this, how glad she would be to see him !
Her little maid had laid the table, and put fresh coal on
the fire, which burned up vividly, and Maggie looked round
with great satisfaction, when re-enter Jane.
" A gentleman for you, miss." A rush of cold air, and sh
was nearly lifted off her feet in a hearty hug.
THE WOOING OT. 309
" Why, you are looking pounds better, Mag ! " cried Cousin
John, holding her off at arm's length.
" I am so glad to see you, John," disengaging herself
quickly. " How kind of you to come all this way."
" Kind ! " cried John, unwinding a crimson and yellow
scarf from his throat. " Why, I have been dying to come
this month past; and I dare say you know that well enough.
What an elegant room ! By George ! you have fallen on
you feet, Maggie. But I thought we were to dine by our-
selves ? " looking round distrustfully.
" So we are ; this is my room my special room."
" You don't mean it ! It is first-rate. Why, you will not
like to leave all this ? "
" No, of course not."
" Still it isn't your own, you know. This is uncommon
jolly ! I had rather a rum Christmas Day. Didn't go down
to the governor's because I was coming here ; so Banks (you
know Fred Banks) asked me to dine at their place. He has
a couple of sisters, and one of them is an uncommon fine
girl. Hair black as coal, eyes like sloes."
" I trust Heaven," thought Maggie, " he has fallen in love
with her ! " " How very nice ! " she said aloud. " But John,
dear, dinner will be ready immediately : would you not like
to go to your room ? "
John glanced at his hands, which presented an unavoida-
ble affirmative, and Maggie rang and confided him to the
guidance of little Jane, while she sank into a chair, over-
powered by the consciousness that all her communings with
herself were in vain, and that Cousin John's outer crust
however admirable, however deserving of affection, the qual-
ities which lay beneath was hopelessly objectionable.
When dinner was over with which Cousin John expressed
himself highly pleased he calmly produced his pipe, which
he was proceeding to light, when Maggie impounded it.
" I am sorry, John, but I think you had better not smoke.
None of the gentlemen smoke here except in the smoking-
room, ever so far away. I do not think Miss Grantham
could bear to smell tobacco."
" Well, it's rather hard a fellow can't have his pipe."
" Come, you may do without it for once when you are
paying me a visit ; and then you can smoke in your own
room."
" Ail right then ; and an uncommon nice room it is, with a
3 i THE WOOING OT.
jolly fire, and towels enough for a regiment. What a lot of
coals they must burn here ! "
" I suppose so. I will show you the house to-morrow, and,
if it is fine, we will have a walk in the park."
" Capital ! And Mag, I must leave you to-morrow some
time, as late as I can make it. I have an appointment in the
city, at twelve on Tuesday." Then John proceeded to unfold
his news, and it was all good. He was succeeding so well,
that when he returned to the Cape, as he intended in May,
he thought he would take a wife with him ; but he was
uncommon particular ; everyone would not suit him. There
was Fred Banks' sister, a fine handsome girl, ready to jump
at him, he was pretty sure ; but somehow, he did not feel as
if " she would do, exactly."
" Why no," replied Maggie ; not if you think she is ready
to jump at you ; that must destroy the charm."
" What charm ? " asked John. " I think one is inclined
to be all the fonder of a girl when she shows she likes you
and knows her own mind."
"Well, perhaps so," said Maggie not caring to talk of
things Cousin John could not understand.
" I can tell you, Miss Maggie, nothing disgusts a man who
is in earnest, and hasn't much time to spare, as playing fast
and loose, shillyshallying."
" Very likely ; but I am sure you have plenty of time to
spare, John. It would be time enough if you were to marry
in four or five years."
" You may think so, but I don't."
" And I must tell you what I think, John if you were
not quite so sure about yourself, and thought more of whether
you are worthy of a good, high-minded girl, it would be bet-
ter, and you would be more likely to find one."
John looked both vexed and surprised. " You're a queer
little creature, Mag. Why are you always preaching to me ?
Why ain't I worthy of a good girl? What have I done
wrong ? I have been a steady chap always, and I have made
my way. I've pluck enough and energy enough to be a
stand-by to any woman ; and you don't know how fond I'd
be of a wife ! So what more could any girl want ? I begin
to think you are a trifle ill-natured, Mag."
" No, indeed I am not," cried Maggie, seeing the hopeless-
ness of the material on which she tried to work, and resolved
to make his visit as pleasant as possible, especially as she
began to hope he was thinking of some one else than herself
THE WOOING OT. 311
for a wife. " Indeed I am not. Only I feel anxious about
you ; it would make me so unhappy if I thought you had not
a nice, kind, reasonable wife a real helpmate ; but you really
must not think all the merit on your own side."
" Perhaps," said John, with a twinkle in his eye, " you
would rather I did not marry Polly Banks after all."
" I cannot possibly tell. She may suit you exactly, and be
most charming ; but I should like you to marry a nice, true-
hearted, loving girl, who would both make you happy and do
you good."
" You would," cried Cousin John ; now that's spoken like a
trump, and I can tell you I have just such a wife in my eye,"
and John winked hard, " as you shall know, all in good time.
Now, I'd like to give you a kiss ; but you're such a queer,
touchy little thing, I am afraid of vexing you."
" Shake hands, then, it will do much better," she said,
shrinking more intensely than ever from such familiarity ; a
horrible dread flashing across her that she herself was the
wife he had in his eye.
" You may think so, but I do not," grumbled John.
" Now tell me all about my uncle and every one ; I have
written twice to them, and never had a reply."
" They are getting along like a house on fire. It was alto-
gether a lucky hit, shoving off the governor to that quiet
country place ; he has quite roused up, and the missus is as
mild as new milk. Lord, Maggie, how she used to hate you
and me long ago ? Many's the time you have run crying into
my arms ; and now you won't give a fellow a kiss to save his
life."
" Oh ! you know it is quite different now ; so don't bother,
like a dear. But don't think I forget or am ungrateful."
" I think you are a blessed little brick ! "
" And is Ditton Market a pretty place ? " asked Maggie, to
turn the current of his thoughts.
" Pretty fair, there's a deal of business in it ; and do you
know, Mag, I think I have found a partner for the gover-
nor ? "
" Indeed ! Who ? "
"Fred Banks. He has got four or five hundred pounds
from an uncle, who is just dead, and he is a pushing fellow ;
he would do very well out of London, and I think he has a
fancy for Jemima, so maybe that will keep him steady. You
see I will get back part of my outlay sooner than I thought."
And so on, Cousin John continued to pour forth his plans and
Ji2 THE WOOING O'T.
projects ; then, noticing the piano, he asked for some music ;
so Maggie proceeded to play all the hymns she could remem-
ber. Shortly before retiring, John asked what work she had
to do. On her giving a sketch of her occupations, he uttered
an oath of astonishment. " What ! and you have sixty
pounds a year for running after this great lady ! Many a
man gives hard toil for less. However, I am glad you have
it, and that you are so comfortable. I had not a notion of
the luxury these snobs live in. Anyhow, it is as well for you
to be here just now. But I say, Mag, as I drove up this
afternoon, I saw two gents walking in the avenue, a stout
elderly man and a tall, thin swell, uncommon like the chap
that stopped us one day in the park."
"Yes, I dare say it was Mr. Trafford," said Maggie, begin-
ning to sweep up the few cinders which had collected since
tea ; " he is staying here. He is one of Miss Grantham's
numerous relations."
" Oh," said John, and was silent for a moment. " That's
queer," he resumed. " I suppose you did not expect to meet
him here ? " suspiciously.
" Never dreamed of such a thing ; never was so surprised
in my life as when he arrived."
" Well, Maggie, don't let him make love to you. These
swells are a bad lot, and whatever they may pretend, not one
of them would think of marrying you. I dare say "
" Pray don't give yourself the trouble of warning me," said
Maggie haughtily. " I am perfectly aware of my position ;
but do not for a moment suppose that any gentleman in this
house would so insult me."
" Bless your heart ! they would not think it an insult,"
cried John.
" As to Mr. Trafford, I think he will marry Miss Grant-
ham," added Maggie.
" Ha ! well, that's all right."
Meanwhile dinner had passed off in the usual fashion.
Lady Torchester had explained to Colonel Molyneux the gen-
eral prospects of the Society for Converting the Jews, and
the colonel had seemed deeply interested. Lord Brockhurst's
state of health had been discussed, and also a report men-
tioned by the rector to Mr. Bolton, that Mr. Burge intended
to resign parliamentary life for the present.
" Now, Geoff," cried the blatant earl, " there is a chance
for you. The Grantham interest is yours, we know ; so I
advise you to go in and win."
THE WOOING O'T. 313
" Yes, the good people of Castleford know so much about
me."
" As much as the good people of any other place," said
Bolton.
" And they know your people at any rate," added Miss
Grantham.
" I am going to start as a candidate for the chieftainship of
the missing tribes of Israel, supposed to be located in Abys-
sinia. Perhaps Lady Torchester's friends of the Jewish So-
ciety will give me their vote and interest," replied Trafford,
with more of scorn than he often showed ; and Bolton, who
was about to speak, stopped himself at a look from Miss
Grantham.
When the gentlemen came into the drawing-room Miss
Grantham was sitting a little apart from the other ladies, and
Trafford joined her. " You cannot think how I miss Miss
Grey," she said, laying down a quarterly she was seeming to
read. " I have grown so used to her ; she is so companiona-
ble and sympathetic."
" I suppose we shall have no music to-night then, sacred or
secular ? "
" Oh, I can play, you know, Geoff ; only I prefer having
my accompaniments played for me. But I shall let Miss
Grey enjoy her cousin's visit. I heard her singing hymns as
I passed her room. I daresay they are very happy. I am
sure I hope so, for a bit of real happiness seems a rare jewel.
Come now, Geoff, you are not going to run away with these
horrid African explorers, nor are you going to cut us on
Tuesday ? " And she looked up very sweetly out of her great
blue eyes.
"No, on Wednesday," replied Trafford carelessly. He
was seeing a picture which Miss Grantham's words had con-
jectured up. Maggie seated at the piano, breathing out some
sweet old hymn which she and her cousin had sung together
in childhood ; and he, with his rough red hair, ill-cut clothes,
untutored voice, and great big hands, was leaning over her
enjoying without a hindrance her confidence, her society
probably was saying good-night at that moment with a cous-
inly kiss or two ? It was maddening to think of it, and Traf-
ford longed to tear him away, and send him, bitter cold
though it was, back to Castleford and London that very
night. His face darkened as he thought, and when he came
to himself Miss Grantham was saying, " After all you are very
314 THE WOOING OT.
ill-natured to desert me, for you are my greatest friend of
them all, and my best friend, I believe."
" I could never desert you, but I may as well go away next
Wednesday as the Wednesday after. I cannot stay in your
enchanted halls forever."
Miss Grantham made no answer, neither did she raise her
eyes from the ground, and Trafford went on without noticing
her.
" Besides, I have no particular business in London, so I
must go up with Bolton, and will be most happy to execute
any commands of yours. I fear the manuscript will not be
finished in time, or you might confide it to my care."
Miss Grantham looked sad. " And when will you come
back ? " she said.
"Whenever you ask me."
" But Heaven knows where you will be the week after
next."
" My address will be ' The Albany ' for a fortnight."
" And after ? "
" Oh, that is diving too far into futurity. At any rate I
shall certainly be in London to see you presented." A
pause.
" I do not know how it is, Geoff, but I think you are cross,
or out of sons or something to-night."
"If I am something to you lam fortunate," returned Traf-
ford, but so carelessly that the bearing of the words was neu-
tralized. " Seriously, you know, I would come a long way to
do anything for my favorite kinswoman ; so pray dispel the
clouds you fancy you observe, by a song."
And Trafford looked down kindly on the beautiful girl who
showed him so much favor. There was too much sympathy
in his nature, too much admiration for beauty and grace, to
permit of steady indifference, and Margaret Grantham might
well be excused for believing that his object in leaving was to
avoid an attachment in which he was too severely honorable
to entangle her till she had seen more of the world.
o she went very contentedly to the piano, and it was some
little time before she missed Trafford, who had vanished, and
did not reappear.
The next morning Maggie presented herself in the study.
Miss Grantham was at her writing-desk. " No, I will give
you a complete holiday," she said in reply to Maggie's offer
to relieve her of some letters. " Most of these will keep very
well till to-morrow, so you can do the honors of Grantham to
THE WOOING OT. 315
cousin. I want to see him ; tell him to come here, for I
shall soon dress to ride over to Southam."
" You will think him very unpolished, I am afraid," said
Maggie, as she left the room. Cousin John was reclining in
one chair, with his feet on another, reading a Sunday paper.
" Miss Grantham wants to see you."
" Well, I don't mind," said John, rising and putting down
his paper.
"But your slippers dear John, you must put on your
boots."
" Oh ! yes, I suppose so," glancing at the carpet abomina-
nations that covered his feet.
" Do make haste, and I will work you a prettier pair,"
cried Maggie, as he vanished.
" I have brought my cousin, Miss Grantham my great
friend," said Maggie, ushering him into the sacred study.
Miss Grantham rose from her writing-table and made a
slight bend or bow or gesture of reception, sufficiently de-
cided to check John Grey's tendency to put out his hand.
She smiled graciously, however, and said, with her sweet
polished manner, " Very pleased to see him ; sit down, Mr.
Grey." But Maggie was aware of a slight expression of sur-
prise as her eye fell upon this new importation. Yet Cousin
John was unusually well dressed, with nothing very objec-
tionable in his toilette, except a long black neck-tie with very
red ends passed through a ring. His hair and beard were
wild as ever, and his hands flagrantly large, rough, and ob-
trusive; while his boots Maggie wondered she had never
before noticed how appallingly huge and clumsy they were,
and how agonizingly they creaked. Nevertheless she could
not help admiring the owner's perfect ease and self-posses-
sion. He stared rather hard at his beautiful hostess as she
sat opposite to him in the warm perfumed atmosphere of her
luxurious study, her exquisitely arranged hair, her rich flow-
ing dress, the locket of black enamel and diamonds at her
throat, the unspeakable ease and grace of her gestures and
attitude bespeaking a lifetime of culture and observance.
The extraordinary contrast between them flashed through
Maggie's brain, while John, with much coolness, took the in-
itiative and remarked.
" You have an uncommon fine place here."
" Yes ; it is pretty in summer. And I hope you find your
cousin looking well and happy, Mr. Grey," continued Mist
Grantham, bent on fascinating even this Orson.
Sl6 THE WOOING O'T.
" That she is," said John, heartily turning a look of such
undisguised delight upon his young relative that Miss Grant-
ham could not suppress a smile. " She looks ever so much
better than when she left us. I did not like the idea of her
coming here or anywhere as a sort of a servant, but now as
I have seen the place and you " with a patronizing nod " I
am glad she did."
" Miss Grey is my companion," said Miss Grantham,
gravely.
" Ay ! but you see, we did not know she would be ; these
betwixt and between situations are not always pleasant.
However, she's happy, and I'm sure I think she is in great
luck."
A pause, during which John's eyes roved openly over the
objects about him and " took stock " mentally, as he himself
would have phrased it, of the rich furniture and surround-
ings.
And you have been away for some time, Miss Grey tells
me," recommenced Miss Grantham, rather amused by Orson's
sangfroid.
" Five years," returned John, abruptly; "went off to seek
my fortune, as the story books say."
" I trust you have succeeded," said Miss Grantham
politely.
" Oh, not yet. A fortune is not to be made in a jiffy, but I
think I have hit on the right road to it. It must be a wonder-
ful thing to step into a fortune ready made : but I fancy a
man is twice as proud of one he made himself."
" So can I, Mr. Grey," exclaimed the heiress sympa-
thetically. " Were I a man I should like to carve my way to
fortune myself."
" So you would," replied John, with decided admiration.
" Were you a man there is not much you'd stop at."
Maggie looked at her patroness, positively alarmed at this
audacious outburst when she thought of the profound and
tender deference with which the princess of Grantham was
treated by her kinsfolk and acquaintance ; but the heiress'
vanity was flattered by this hearty acknowledgement of the
impression she had made, and she laughed good-humoredly.
" You flatter me, Mr. Grey."
" I'd be very sorry," said John, sturdily.
" Do you intend to return to " she paused, not knowing
what destination to give hin*
THE WOOING OT. 317
" The Cape ? " put in John. " Yes, life is pleasanter and
easier there, and money is to be made."
" Miss Grey will be very sorry. You have been friends
from childhood?"
"Yes, I always tried to take care of her, and will, so long
as she behaves herself," with a laugh. " But I am not going
out till May, and there is no knowing what may happen before
May, eh, Mag ? " and he laid a huge heavy hand on hei
shoulder. Maggie started, blushed crimson, and instinctively
drew away, while Miss Grantham slightly frowned. In spite
of the discrimination shown by this uncouth creature, she
did not like to see him touch her pet secretary.
" I am told there is an expedition forming to seek for the
sources of the Nile," said she, to change the subject.
" I believe there is, and it is great bosh. What good will it do
to know where it comes from so long as we keep the river ? "
" It will be interesting to clear up an ancient mystery, and
the search may prove useful in many ways."
" It is like throwing good money after bad. I know what
these explorations cost in money and labor and risk ; and if
you are to get no return "
" I fear you are hopelessly practical, Mr. Grey."
" I think you are going out, Miss Grantham," put in Mag-
gie, fearing that if John got on the subject of Africa he would
be very likely to expound his views at great length, " and we
must not keep you."
John rose. " If you would like a gazelle or two to run
about the place, or some out-of-the-way birds, I would be glad
to send you over a few."
" It would be quite charming, if not too much trouble."
" I don't think you are the sort that people mind trouble
for," returned John, with another appallingly familiar nod.
" When do you leave, Mr. Grey ? "
" By the seven o'clock up-train."
" Then you must be away from this at half-past six. Good
morning. Very pleased to have seen you. Rest satisfied
your cousin shall be taken good care of," and they were
politely dismissed.
" By Jingo ! " cried John, when they had reached Maggie's
room, throwing himself into a chair, " that Miss Grantham
is a stunner, and no mistake ! Such eyes, such a figure, and
so nice and pleasant ! I tell you, Mag, if I were going to stay
on here, we'd be no end of friends." Then noticing Maggie's
xpression of surprise at his extraordinary conceit, which he
318 THE WOOING OT.
totally misunderstood : " Never mind, Mag, she'll never cut
you out. You'll always be number one with me. Now let u
have a walk."
CHAPTER XXV.
WHILE Maggie did the honors of Grantham to Cousin
John, privately returning thanks for that important appoint-
ment which obliged him to take the seven up-train that very
evening, Trafford, having written a few letters, was going
toward the Hall, intending to spend an hour or two in the
preserves, as the frost was too hard to permit of hunting.
" Where are you bound ? " saia Mr. Bolton, coming out of
the library.
" Going to see if I can hit a pheasant or two before
luncheon."
" Let the birds have another day's existence, and have a
talk with me. I never get a word with you now."
"Very well," returned Trafford, resignedly, laying aside
his hat.
" Deuced cold," said the lawyer, stirring the fire. " I don't
know how it is, I feel queer and uncomfortable the last day
or so. Now, Mr. Trafford, do you really intend to come
away with me on Wednesday ? "
" I do. Why ? Do you object ? "
" That depends on whethei you really have business, and
when you mean to return."
" I have business enough to swear by, and I do not intend
to return ' it may be for years it may be for ever.' "
" Hum ! and do you continue to throw away all yoiu
chances ? Here is a seat in Parliament, a splendid property,
and a splendid girl, all to be had for the having ; and you'll
not stretch out your hand. You are enough to vex a saint,
and I am not one."
" Then do not be vexed ; and above all, don't be profane.-
for it is horribly profane to insinuate that any splendid girl is
to be had for the having."
" Still you know I am speaking truth ; but let us leave
that part. You told me, some time ago, you were not averse
to a Parliamentary life ; here is a first-rate opening. You
are liberal in your proclivities ; the Granthams were always
Whigs. You can consistently accept the family interest. I
THE WOOING OT.
3'f
have already sounded old Burge's son ; he is a plain, straight-
forward, unambitious fellow. I think he would give all his
influence to Miss Grantham's candidate."
" There," said Trafford, " you have just hit it. I do not
choose to make my debut as Miss Grantham's candidate."
" Situated as you are, you must be some one's candidate.
Why not hers ? "
" Well, I do not care to be any one's yet, my dear Bol-
ton," he spoke with more gravity, " I know perfectly well
that I have done nothing to recommend me to any constituen-
cy ; and if I came in at all, I must do so under somebody s
wing. That is the reason why I don't care to make a move."
" And in the meanwhile time is flying by. Why, it is com-
ing nearly to a year since we first talked your affairs over
when you came from Canada," interrupted Bolton, testily.
" There you spent the best part of the season running after
the earl, and here you are at the same game still."
" I suppose my idleness and seeming warjt of decision
must be most aggravating to a man of action like you. I am
sometimes irritated with myself ; yet it is hard to say why I
cannot throw myself into anything ; but I cannot. I have
often in my various journeys come to a broken bit of road, an
ugly piece of marsh, or a narrow touch-and-go pass along a
mountain-side, when I did not know what was to come or how
to get through ; then I generally gave the rein to my horse,
and somehow, the instinct I did not possess carried me safe-
ly into ground I understood : and now I feel something like
the same abandonment of all attempt to force my own will or
guide my fate. I have thrown the rein on the neck of that
jade Fortune : and somehow I fancy she will carry me into
terra cognita : trust me, once I know my bearings, I will spare
neither whip nor spur."
" It is aggravating to hear a man of your sense talk "
" Like an idiot, eh, Bolton ? My good old friend, you had
better give me my head. You know what Madame de Stael
says , ' II ne faut jamais faire agir un homme dans un sens
different de son caractere ; ' if you do, he makes a mull of
everything. And there is no urgent necessity for me to be
frantically energetic."
" No ! but I don't like to see you lost in obscurity all your
days. However, I will say no more on that head. You know
yourself what you want, I presume. You must, nevertheless,
hear my experiences on the subject of celibacy. I never had
much of a sentimental period, but I do not mean to say I
320 THE IVOOING &T.
was without human weaknesses. At all events, I considered
matrimony a mistake for a young man ; so I went on, and
grew old, and now I would give a good deal to have a family
around me : a nice daughter to nurse me when I have the
gout : a son to renew my links with life. A solitary old man
is not an enviable creature."
" But," replied Trafford, mischievously, " according to your
general view of life, your daughters, would by this time, be
engaged with their husbands and families, and your sons
would probably waste your money and worry you to death."
" And there would be an equal chance the other way,"
returned Bolton, good-humoredly. " Come now, Mr. Trafford,
you are just the right age to marry and settle prudently. I sup-
pose you have got through the idiotic period, when only one
particular woman could satisfy you, and are aware that she
who is sufficiently pleasant to the eye, and suited to your
worldly requirements, is the right article ? Now if a professed
dealer in magic had been engaged to produce it, could a bet-
ter specimen have been found than is here at your hand ? "
" Do not be too sure I have survived the idiotic period, Bol-
ton. Come, I have not seen my thirty-second birthday yet.
Besides I am a sportsman by temperament and habit ,and you
know there's ten times more interest and pleasure in stalking
the wild hillside game than in the best preserves."
" I trust in God, Mr. Trafford," said Bolton, gravely, " that
you are not entangled in any way ! I know I speak to you
rather freely, but the fact is, the only people I ever cared for
much were your father and mother ; they always allowed me
the footing of a friend rather than a mere legal adviser.
And I have a sort of fatherly interest in you ; so, without pre-
suming to pry into your secrets, I may express a hope that
you are not entangled ? "
" My dear Bolton, I am always obliged for your friendly
interest ; and as to entanglements, I am as free as air."
Trafford rose as he spoke, and strolled to the window.
" I am very pleased to hear you say so ; very."
Trafford threw open the window without noticing that
Bolton was speaking, as the tramp of horses was heard.
" So you are off ? " he called to some one outside. " Are
your horses roughed ? It is rather unsafe riding to-day."
" I think we are all right," replied Miss Grantham's voice ;
" and the Southam road is sheltered from the east, so it will
not be quite so hard. You ought to have come, Geoff."
" Mr. Bolton has impounded me."
THE WOOING O'T. 321
" I am glad of that."
" I fancy we'll have a change of wind before night," said
Lord Torchester.
" Mind you bring back your precious charge safe and
sound," called out Trafford to the Earl as they rode away.
" She is a grand creature, and deserves more than half a
man's heart," he added, looking after them, as he closed the
window.
" Then, my dear Mr. Trafford, if you are free as air, why
don't you give her a whole one ? "
" ' Is human love the growth of human will ? ' "
quoted Trafford laughing. " Give me time and rope enough.
Now I will tell you what I mean to do, so far as I have any
meaning. When I am alone in my chambers I will toss up
whether I shall make an exploring expedition into Africa, or
overland to China, or settle down to a legal career. It is the
only one for which I feel a tendency ; the struggle of wit and
skill must be rather exhilarating ; and I begin to feel life, with-
out occupation or excitement, a dull affair. Dine with me on
New Year's Day, and I will tell you more."
" I will do so with pleasure. And about Castleford ? "
" No more at present. I don't fancy being ' pale, fair Mar-
garet's ' nominee. Where is the colonel ? "
" Out with Longmore and some of the keepers. I think
they talked of shooting a deer in the Upper Chase."
" Then I will follow them."
The day went over quicker than Maggie anticipated. John
was highly entertained by a circuit of the house and grounds ;
his observations on the family pictures were original and ir-
reverent ; and his appreciation of the good fare provided for
his afternoon meal keen and grateful.
At last half past six arrived, and Jane announced that the
carriage was waiting for Mr. Grey.
" Good-bye, Mag ! I have had a jolly time. Mind you write
to me ; and whatever you do, don't let the swells here make
love to you ; they'd humbug to no end, and laugh at you af-
ter."
" I can take care of myself, so make your mind easy. My
kindest love to dear Uncle Grey, when you see him, and every
one."
" God bless you, Mag ! " half a dozen hasty kisses, and
he was gone. " What a wicked, heartless girl I am," thought
Maggie, " to be so very glad he is gone. He, who is, per*
21
3 22 THE WOOING ffT.
haps, the Only one in the world who really care* for me 1
But I cannot help it. It would kill me to live with John,
even if I had never seen " even in her thoughts she stopped
short, and began diligently to put her little sitting-room in or-
der, for John had a way of dragging chairs out of their
places, and throwing anti-macassars about, " I wonder if
Miss Grantham will expect me down stairs to-night ? I will
not go unless she asks me ; but I hope I am not to be left up
here all alone. What a desolate life I should have if Mis?
Grantham was not so charming ! "
" Miss Grantham wishes to see you," said Mrs. Hands,
putting in her head.
Maggie found her dressing in haste, for she was late.
" I have had the most delightful visit ! Such amusing peo-
ple but I will tell you all about it after. I thought we should
have been even later. However, there is a slight thaw, so we
came back at a great pace. Is your cousin gone ? Then
pray come down this evening. I quite missed you yesterday.
I wish you would look in the study for that duet from ' Anna
Bolena ' and bring it down with you."
Maggie went into the study to make the desired search.
It looked most inviting in the firelight for a reverie ; and
Maggie sat down by the table, and leaning her elbows on it,
rested her head on her hands, and thought rather sadly and
bitterly of John's parting warning ; of its truth ; of the isola-
tion to which a taste above her station condemned her ; and
while she was thus absorbed, she was unaware that a gentle-
man came half-way through the open door, and stopped on
seeing her sitting motionless, in an attitude so expressive of
dejection. Trafford had suddenly remembered the manu-
script and taken it up, intending to replace it in the study on
his way down stairs to dinner. The door stood open, and he
went in. Seeing, however, that his entrance was unperceived,
he retreated, not without a feeling of impatience and vexation
to think that Maggie should be thus grieving over the loss of
that " ourang " of a cousin.
" We grew quite uneasy about you," said Lady Torchester
to Miss Grantham, after the soup and fish had disappeared.
" You were so late."
" Oh ! we could not get away. Lady Brockhurst was so
delightful, and altogether it was so amusing. There is an
Algerian chief staying there, and a German Baron somebody,
a professor of something, and a charming Frenchwoman whom
THE WOOING O'T. 323
Torchester knew in Paris, who inquired particularly for you,
Geoff Madame De Beaumanoir."
" Oh ! she is an old friend of Geoff's," said the earl.
" He introduced me to the Hotel de Pontigny ; and a most
magnificent hotel it is."
" Madame De Beaumanoir ! " cried Trafford, in the deep-
est amazement. " How, in the name of Heaven, did she
come to Southam ? "
" She is an old friend of Lady Brockhurst's ; they vrere to-
gether in Paris when Lord Brockhurst left ; and so she ac-
companied the disconsolate wife back, to keep her company
and see something of English life en province. She knows
London very well, evidently, and seemed quite at home in
Southam."
" The last thing that I could imagine that would suit her,
is country life anywhere," remarked Trafford, who seemed
still much surprised.
" I do not think I ever heard you mention her, Torchester,"
said his mother.
"Very likely not. She was Trafford's friend, and only
threw me a word now and then for his sake."
" She seemed quite amiable with you to-day," put in Miss
Grantham. Trafford seemed lost in thought.
" She was wonderfully amiable. I say, Geoff, you must go
over and call. 1 told her you were going back to town the
day after to-morrow, and she said she hoped to see you,"
added the earl.
" Yes, of course I must," replied Trafford, looking any-
thing but pleased. " I see," he continued, " you were a true
prophet. There is quite a thaw this evening. I dare say we
will have a tolerable run to-morrow."
" It is not to-morrow," said the colonel. " The meet was
posponed till Wednesday ; and I dare say it will freeze again
by that time."
" Oh ! there is no use in speaking of Wednesday," cried
Miss Grantham. " Geoff is so resolved to go up to town
with Mr. Bolton, that no hunting or anything else will keep
him."
" I am not so sure of that," said Bolton. " Like Lord Tor-
chester, I saw signs of a change this morning."
" I have exhausted my entreaties," said Miss Grantham, a
little haughtily, " He must go or stay, as he chooses."
Trafford looked at her, smiling slightly. " Going or stay*
324 THE WOOING VT.
ing is not always a matter of choice," he said, and let the
subject drop.
When the ladies came in from dinner, Maggie fancied there
was a change in the aspect of things since the previous Satur-
da)'. Miss Grantham looked preoccupied, and there was a
cloud on Lady Torchester's brow. The visit to which she
had looked forward with so much anticipation had rather dis-
appointed the countess. Though an undemonstrative woman,
she had strong affections, and had always taken a warm inter-
est in her motherless relative. She had not seen so much of
her for the two years immediately preceding Lord Grantham's
death, but she had always destined her, in her own mind to
be her son's wife. Now, though Torchester did not seem dis-
inclined to fall into her unexpressed views, there was a flight-
iness and want of sober religiousness about the young heiress
that startled the orthodox countess.
Lady Torchester, though not quite so dead to worldly mat-
ters as would have become her high calling, valued several
things above money and position. She would have given a
well-born, penniless Evangelical competitor for her son's hand
the preference over a well-born, wealthy High-Church or No-
Church pretendante. The event of a low-born, Low-Church,
spiritually gifted aspirant presenting herself did not enter into
the countess calculations ! it would have been a knotty point
for her to disentangle if it did.
As to the very pleasing young person whom it was Miss
Grantham's pleasure to distinguish with so much notice, Lady
Torchester had no objection to her ; but she never could
think without a certain feeling of soreness that her beloved
son had placed himself metaphorically at her feet and had
been rejected. However gratifying the result, the means were
humiliating. Thus, though studiously polite to the heiress' sec-
retary, the heart-instinct of that attractive little waif made
her always feel uncomfortable with the countess.
" She does not like me a bit in her heart," was the sum ot
Maggie's cogitations on the subject. Nevertheless, on this
especial evening, Lady Torchester called Miss Grey to her,
and conversed very amiably. She asked what part of the
world her cousin had come from ; and if he knew anything
personally of the results of missionary labor among the tribes
of Kaffirland ; and when Maggie admitted that he had nevei
mentioned the subject, remarked that the deadness of young
men to the progress of religion was truly deplorable.
While this conversation, or rather, monologue, proceeded,
THE WOOING O'T. 325
the gentlemen joined them ; but none of them sought to inter-
rupt the tete-a-tete on the sofa. Maggie, in spite of her mel-
ancholy musings on Cousin John's warnings, felt her spirits
rise and shake off all super-incumbent burdens, as she once
more knew herself to be free from the incubus of his presence
once more in the delicious atmosphere of the well-lit, pleas-
antly filled drawing room where all were too well-bred, too
well aware of the value of trifles, to grate upon each other, and
where the deep, unacknowledged delight of hearing Trafford
speak, or being spoken to by him, awaited her.
For the present, however, there seemed no chance of that
for Colonel Molyneux and Mr. Bolton sat down to piquet,
and Trafford seemed to watch the game with much interest.
Meantime the earl and Mr. Longmore devoted themselves to
Miss Grantham.
Maggie's attention had wandered, and when she recalled it
again Lady Torchester was saying, " I cannot remain longer
than this day week, and I feel quite sure when I am gone,
Margaret Miss Grantham will almost live with Lady Brock-
hurst ; and I make it a point to let you know, Miss Grey, that
I by no means approve the intimacy. Besides being worldly
in no common degree, Lady Brockhurst's surroundings are
most objectionable, and her set the last with which I should
like to see Miss Grantham associated. Of course you cannot
do anything against this ; but I think it right to tell you. In-
deed, I do not know anyone who has much influence with
Miss Grantham, unless it be Mr. Trafford, and he leaves on
Wednesday."
" He leaves on Wednesday ! Oh, silly heart, to beat so sud-
denly and so fast. What is his going or his advent to thee ?
Bear up bravely and take thy pangs of punishment, deserved
as it is by such weakness and folly. Plunge headlong into
the bitter waters; the shock will be over all the sooner! "
Said the earl to Lady Torchester, coming over from the
ottoman where he had been lounging beside his fair hostess,
" Lady Brockhurst is coming to call upon you. She says she
was at Mount Trafford with her mother when I was a tire
some boy in jackets, and that it was a charming place,"
" I am not at all anxious to see her," returned the countess.
" I do not remember her, but I do remember her brother, Cap
tain Neville and after his first visit I never invited him
again."
" What ? ' Beauty Neville ? ' Why, he is at Southam now,
326 THE WOOING T.
and began to make eyes at Margaret before'she had been half
an hour in the room."
Lady Torchester uttered an exclamation of horror^ and
Maggie, wishing to leave the earl and his mother to converse
uninterruptedly, slipped away to Lady Dormer.
" You have not your game of whist this evening ? "
*' No, my dear. Miss Grantham offered to play, but I knew
at would bore them all, as Mr. Bolton is playing piquet, and I
am very tired. I drove over to Castleford with Lady Tor-
chester to-day. We got out and walked from one shop to
another, and I could not match that second shade of dark
blue ; it was very provoking," etc.
Trafford withdrew himself from the players, and occupied
Ihe earl's place on the ottoman. He described the death of
the stag which had fallen to the colonel's bullet that afternoon,
and gradually absorbed Miss Grantham's attention so that
Mr. Longmore found himself de trop, and moved off.
" You are an excellent disciplinarian, Margaret," said
Trafford, after a pause.
" How ? "
" When naughty boys quarrel with their bread and butter
you hold them to their word."
" Ah ! " said Miss Grantham, smiling. " It is quite right
to give them humble pie instead of nice bread and butter,
when they are obstinate."
" But after swallowing a proper quantity of the delectable
viand you mentioned, they might be allowed to come back to
the bread and butter again."
" Provided they promise amendment. Then Mr. Bolton
was right you do not want to leave on Wednesday ? Why,
Geoff, I never knew you whimsical before."
" I fancy you must know I did not really wish to leave at
least for a few days longer and to-day I find I can postpone
my return."
" Oh, stay if you like ; but remember you have forfeited
your right to call me whimsical."
" As you choose. And now are we friends ? I fancy you
have looked coldly on me since I refused to accompany you
to Southam."
" .Nonsense, Geoff. You were the loser in that affair."
** No music to-night ? " asked Mr. Longmore. " There has
been quite a dearth of sweet sounds."
" Yes ; and there is Miss Grey cruelly interfering with Aunt
THE WOOING OPT. yj
Dormer's after-dinner nap. Come, Miss Grey; " and the
heiress telegraphed to her secretary.
" Your friend has returned to town ? " said Trafford to
Maggie, just before they separated for the night. " It was
but a short visit."
" It was very good of Miss Grantham to let him come,
even for a day."
" Do you still see the resemblance between your cousin and
Torchester which struck you in Paris ? "
" Oh, no John is so changed ; but I did see a likeness
then."
" And which is best, the new man or the old ? "
" Old friends for me, always."
" Ah, Miss Grey ! I thought the Princess of Grantham had
eclisped every one ! "
" No ; she shines with superior splendor, but does not eclipse
my old stars."
Trafford was silent, as if in thought, and then suddenly
asked, " What became of I forget her name the stout
Frenchwoman you used to be afraid would desert you when,
Mrs. Berry was away. "
" Oh, Rosalie ? " replied Maggie, blushing brightly at the
memories that name recalled. " We left her in Paris. She
and Mrs. Berry quarreled the day we left, and I know no
more of her."
" So all the dramatis persona of those pleasant months
have vanished, and you and I alone seem left."
" Except Lord Torchester."
" I did not count him. I wonder where we shall all be
next year."
" I always try not to think of that," said Maggie.
" Are you afraid ? "
" Not exactly ; but when one knows the future must be all
uncertain there is no use in perpetual dread of dragging one's
anchor it will not hold a moment longer for that."
"Always philosophic and a little defiant. You disdain:
sympathy ? "
" Oh no, no ! Only I do not like pity : and equality, you
know, is the essence of affection, sympathy, friendship
everything that is good."
" Red Republican to the core : Good night, Miss Grey."
When Trafford found himself in his room, having refused
the earl's invitation to come and have a talk, he uttered an
exclamation against the size of the fire. " I am afraid I hav*
328 THE WOOING O'T.
taken more wine than was good for me," he said to himself,
and dismissing his valet, he opened the window and looked
out into the night.
It was clear and profoundly still the mass of leafless
woods all black, and a dark bank of clouds coming slowly up-,
from the west ; but directly in front was an open space of
deep blue sky, grandly jeweled with stars.
Trafford leant for a few minutes against the window frame,
feeling refreshed by the keen air, and thinking dreamily in a
strain for which his kinsfolk and acquaintances would hardly
have given him credit. The strong affinity between mute
nature and our inner selves of which we catch glimpses at
those rare times when we stand aside for an instant out of the
rush of life, and listen to the universal voice that " without
speech or language," makes itself heard, and tells that in
some mysterious way we partake of all that surrounds us :
that the stream of our existence is fed by the thousand rills
and springs which pervade all things, animate and inanimate,
by unacknowledged influences which shape our being and are
our life ; the consciousness that ease and luxury are not all
man wants ; these thoughts suggested themselves vaguely to
Trafford, as he gazed out into the clear winter's night. He
was by no means a pattern man, and he had generally the
credit of being a cool hand ; but his coolness appertained
more to the head than to the heart, and probably the quiet-
ness of strength contributed to the inaction at which his
friend Bolton grumbled so much. He cared so little for the
opinion of others that mere applause never possessed much
value to him ; and he had, perhaps in an unusual degree, the
old Greek love of beauty in all shapes of form, of feeling,
color, thought ; the loftiest success, if dry and cold unsym-
pathetic, possessed no charm for him, and even in the first
ferment of youth, passion with him was always largely
tinged with sentiment ; so probably his life had been purer
than that of many. This inherent tenderness of disposition
was preserved for decaying into weakness by the salt of
genuine English pluck and energy, of which he possessed a
iull share.
*' Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven I
If in your bright leaves we would read the fate
Of men'and empires, 'tis to be forgiven,"
murmured Trafford, as he closed the window and drew a
chair to the fire he had just reviled. " I wish I could steal
THE WOOING 0'71 325
hint or two from their ' bright leaves,' for I have a wonderful
foreboding of evil. Madame De Beaumanoir at Southam !
only three or four miles off. What can have induced her to
come ? She is not in love with Dick Neville ? Her friendship
for Lady Brockhurst is, of course, bosh. She is a revenge-
ful devil, I am certain of that. I always knew there was a dash
of the fiend in her, even when I was in love and that did
not last long. She must remember, too, that it was she sent
me adrift not I that broke loose. I was a mere youngster
then ; but if, as I suspected at Paris, she has an old
iendresse or a fresh whim in my favor, she will remember
Maggie's face, and finding her here with a relation of mine,
what mischief will she not conjure up out of the evil treasure
of her experience ! Nor will she stop there. What mischief
she can do with Margaret with the countess ! By Heaven,
it is appalling ! I would give a great deal her eyes had never
fallen on Maggie ; proud, soft, brave soul ! How indignantly
she puts aside every indication of sympathy from me ! And
how she could love ! But thank God she does not. It is
impossible she can care for that cousin ; yet she looked sad
enough in the study. If I thought she had given me her
heart, I should be tempted." He paused and lit a cigar.
" And when this wild longing for her had passed away, as of
course it would, should I not regret such a mesalliance ? and
would she not perceive it, with her marvelously quick intuition ?
The last state of that woman would be worse than the first.
Of course, it is all a piece of folly. I must hug myself in my
rank and comparative riches and secure position, and let that
tender child drift away among the breakers, to be bruised by
the waves or starved on some desolate island of uncongenial
life, while I would give years of mine at this moment to hold
her in my arms, and I am growing a mere driveler, without
pluck to do one thing or the other. At any rate, I .will not
quit this till I see that handsome black-browed marquise safe
away. How to deal with her is the difficulty. To ask her to
hold her tongue would be madness. She would not do it ;
and it would look as if there was something wrong in our
innocent expedition. To tell her Maggie was here would be
insane, and not to tell her seems as bad. If she could be kept
from seeing Miss Grey but that, I am afraid, is impossible.
I wish to Heaven I had the sense to talk about our drive in
the Bois de Boulogne to Margaret ; she would think no evil ;
but told as Madame la Marquise will tell it, she would ba
more than an angel, an idiot, if she did not suspect mischief.
330 THE WOOING O'T.
And Maggie must not know anything. I will just ride ovet
and pay ValeVie a long visit, and find what she is about, if I
can. And I will be as careful here as a prowling cat. It was
all my fault, that dangerous, delicious drive, and I must pull
Maggie through, somehow."
The next morning was wet. Miss Grantham came into
Maggie's room before luncheon, and sat down by the fire,
evidently intending to indulge in a gossip.
" Our party will not break up so soon, after all," she said,
after looking at the fire awhile. " Poor Mr. Bolton has a fit
of the gout ; he could not come down to breakfast, and we
have sent to Castleford for the doctor. Mr. Trafford begged
leave to stay last night, after vowing and declaring he must
and would go to town on Wednesday. I told him he was
growing quite spoilt and whimsical. He is a good deal
changed."
" For better or worse ? " asked Maggie, as Miss Grant-
ham paused.
" I hardly know. He is skeptical and cold and sneering,
sometimes, but I believe there is a heart au fond somewhere.
You know he is immensely clever ! But he is so careless and
fond of doing such out-of-the-way things, etc. ; and Miss
Crantham ran on with a picturesque description of TrafTord's
life, which would have greatly amused the subject thereof
could he have heard it, but to which Maggie listened with an
undoubting faith and an unvarying attention most encourag-
ing to her informant.
" Geoff and I were always great friends," she concluded ;
*' but while he was away in India and Canada we almost for-
got each other till we met last autumn at Craigmurchau Cas-
tle, just after he returned from Paris where I always fancied
lie went to get Torchester out of some scrape. You thought
so too, did you not ? " " Yes," said Maggie, hardly able to
keep back a smile. " I am afraid Lord Torchester was
among a bad gambling set there."
"Tor is wonderfully improved," replied Miss Grantham.
*' Whatever set he was among at Paris roused him up and
did him good. He was the shyest, sulkiest boy you can
imagine ; now he is really bearable, and I should be very
fond f him and cultivate him more than I do, only I am
afraid of his falling in love with me."
** I would not trouble about that," cried Maggie, laughing,
** for it is unfait accompli already."
** You really think so ? " said Miss Grantham, calmly. I
THE WOOING (7r. 331
fancy it is only dawning. I should not like to vex Tor, and
then Lady Torchester has always been so kind. I must
send him away : but Miss Grey, as you are evidently an
observer, I must some day ask you, merely as a matter of
curiosity, if you think there is that horrid bell ! We will
have a quiet talk next week, when every one is gone."
By luncheon time the clouds had broken, and there was
some promise of a fine afternoon. Trafford announced that
he was going to call on Madame De Beaumanoir. Miss
Grantham invited the other gentlemen to ride with her to the
kennels and ascertain what were the arrangements for to-
morrow, and the party separated.
As Trafford approached the park gates Lady Brockhurst's
carriage, issued through them, and the viscountess stopped
to exchange greetings with him.
" You will find dear Madame De Beaumanoir at home, if
she is equal to seeing you. She has a cold, or a migraine, or
something, but insisted on our going on just as usual. She
wants so much to see the hounds throw off to-morrow. You
can tell her all about it."
After waiting for a few minutes in the viscountess' luxuri-
ous morning-room, a benign butler informed him that Ma-
dame De Beaumanoir would see him, and he was conducted to
" my lady's " boudoir a delicious sanctuary, all white and
gold, with rose-colored blinds, the air heavy with the perfume
of rare plants, and glowing with brilliant water-color sketches,
while sofas and couches and ottomans and cushions a very
wealth of comfort were scattered over the apartment. In
a few minutes Madame la Marquise entered. She was elab-
orately got up as an invalid ; a long robe de chambre of maize-
colored French merino, bordered with velvet of the same
color, brought out her splendid eyes and brunette tints most
effectively, and thrown over all the crimsoned-lined hood
drawn partly over her head^with a black velvet mantle, all
edged with deep bands of darkest sable.
" So you have actually taken the trouble to come and see
me ? " said Madame De Beaumanoir, sinking down, as if
hardly able to sustain herself, upon a sofa, and holding out a
jewelled hand.
" Taken the trouble ! " repeated Trafford expressively, as
he bowed over it. When the astounding intelligence reached
me last evening that you, the cynosure of all Parisian eyes I
should say civilized European eyes were absolutely irradi*
ating this remote and savage district, I was ready to mount
33 THE WOOIA T G O'r.
and ride then and there only it would have gained me the
character of a lunatic, and perhaps displeased you."
" Sans doute" she replied, a smile breaking slowly all over
her countenance and glittering in her eyes. " The first duty
of man, educated man, is a regard for the biensiances. And
so you were glad to know I was here, Trafford ? "
" It is impossible to describe what I felt," replied Trafford,
with much truth. " But what can possibly have induced you
to undertake such a journey, belle amie! Surely you did not
think Lady Brockhurst so inconsolable for the temporary loss
of her lord that you must make such a sacrifice to friendship ? "
Madame De Beaumanoir laughed gayly. " I liked to
come, mon ami"
" Why, for Heaven's sake ? "
The marquise looked full at him, and then, slowly dropping
her great eyes to the carpet, said softly, " A whim."
"Well, it is a fortunate whim for Southam, and Grantham
too ; but I fear you will soon be bored. I do not think Eng-
lish country-house life will suit you."
" I have been here one, two, three days, and I am not tired.
Then I want to see a hunt of the fox. I mount on horseback,
well ; but you will accompany me, will you not ? "
" Certainly. There is a meet to-morrow, not very far, if you
are well enough."
" Oh yes ? I shall be well to-morrow. My indisposition is
more of the spirit than the body that sense of desolation,
Trafford, which will creep over me as of old."
Trafford therefore addressed himself to the task of cheer-
ing and comforting the charming victim, assuring her of his
devoted friendship, his sympathy, etc., and was almost alarmed
at his own success.
" Now tell me of your own affairs," said Madame De Beau-
manoir, quite animated and revived. " Who is this charm-
ing Miss Grantham, who, in your strange fashion, rides about
with a young gentleman, unaccompanied by any chaperone ? "
" She is a charming young lady, whom I have known since
before even her school-room days ; a near relative of Lord
Torchester's : and noble at least, her large landed property
would make her a baroness or countess in France."
" Well ; and are you going to range yourself and marry her,
my friend ? "
" Why, beautiful lady, I need not range myself ; I am ex-
emplary enough. And as to marrying Miss Grantham nc\
$here is no likelihood of such a thing."
THE WOOING O'T. 33J
" It would be well for thy fortunes," said Madame De Beau-
manoir, dropping tenderly into the tu tot.
" Nevertheless, hearts are rebellious sometimes," returned
Trafford, carelessly.
" Then you do not love this great blue-eyed girl ? " she re-
joined, looking at him intently, almost fiercely.
" Not in the least," said Trafford, smiling, " in your sense,
though I am very fond of her."
" All ! man Dieu / but how you could love, Trafford ! "
" I am not sure of that. I have grown philosophic since
you broke my heart and sent me adrift let me see oh ! I
cannot remember how long ago."
Madame De Beaumanoir pressed her handkerchief to her
eyes and murmured," Don't talk of it. I was young and in-
experienced myself, then, I did not know the value of true,
devoted, chivalrous friendship. Ah ! how bitter it is to reflect
on the errors, the losses, of the past."
" Inexperienced ! " thought Trafford, with a mental note of
admiration. But he said, " There is enough of life and love
left to atone for any past to you."
" Is there ? " asked the marquise plaintively. " But, Trafford,
you too must have a heart-history ; you have not passed un-
scathed through all these years ? "
" Of course not," said Trafford with edifying candor.
" And I should immensely like you to know the true his-
tory of my heart, belle ValeVie forgive me, madame, if the
name by which you dwell in my memory escaped my lips "
Madame De Beaumanoir smiled softly ; "but when," he con-
tinued, " shall I have a chance again of seeing you alone ?
You know the system of these country houses. You are
plunged in a mob, with dozens of eyes ready to watch, to dis-
cover, to proclaim those irrepressible indications of tender-
ness, friendship what you will which their natures are too
coarse to comprehend or appreciate. It is the most wonder-
ful piece of good fortune to have found you alone this morn-
ing. I will not dwell on the painful restraint of such inter
course. No. You would rebuke me. London London is
the only spot in this semi-enlightened country wherein one
can enjoy a rational liberty."
" When do you return to town ? " said la marquise, reflect-
ively.
" May I venture to say that my movements will be regula-
ted by yours ? "
" Ah, Trafford ! What how can I reply ? "
334 THE WOOING OT.
" That you will not reject the the chivalrous friendship
which is at your command. I had intended leaving to-mor-
row."
" They told me so," murmurmed Madame De Beaumanoir.
I cannot curtail my visit too suddenly ; but after a week I
shall go to London en route to Paris."
Traffordtook her hand, and kissed it with profound respect
" It is remarkable," he said, with much gravity, " that I have
affairs in London which require my presence there in about a
week."
Madame De Beaumanoir smiled, and left her hand in his.
and Trafford was beginning not to know exactly what to do
with it when Lady Brockhurst entered, with a judicious amount
of laughing and talking, followed by Lord Alfred St. Lawrence
and Captain Neville.
Much eloquence was wasted in trying to persuade Trafford
to stay to dinner, and then arrangements were made respect-
ing the hunt to-morrow. Trafford promised to return to din-
ner afterwards, and took charge of an invitation to Miss
Gran th am to join the party.
" But you must drive over to Grantham one day," said Lady
Brockhurst to her friend. " It is quite a specimen of an old
English place."
" I want to go and see the Lady of the Land," said Captain
Neville, indolently.
"There is really nothing to see," remarked Trafford.
" Your pictures are far finer here : and, in short, Grantham
is common place enough."
" Surely you depreciate it as if you were already the owner
said Lady Brockhurst, laughing, yet casting a keen glance at
the speaker. ".We may have a few old masters, but nothing
like the unique collection of family portraits Miss Grantham
possesses. Yes, Madame la Marquise, you must see Gran-
tham. Good-morning, Mr. Trafford. Pray tell Lady Tor-
Chester I was so sorry not to see her to-day. They were all
out when I called."
" So far so good," thought Trafford, as he rode home
through the closing shades of night. I am thankful she made
no remark respecting the your\gpensionnaire I was imprudent
enough to be seen with. Perhaps she has forgotten about it.
No ; I fear not. Now, if I draw her away to London, what
the deuce shall I do with her ? However, difficulties arrange
themselves. Nouf verrons"
THE WOOING O'T. 335
CHAPTER XXVI. .
ON the morrow the west wind blue softly, and the hunting
party set out in high spirits. Maggie saw them off, and then
returned to her room to peruse a letter directed in Cousin
John's writing, which she had not yet had time to open.
These riding expeditions roused no particular envy in Magf
gie's mind as Mrs. Berry's visits to theatres or galleries used
to do ; anything fast or dashing was quite out of the way.
She was a thorough home bird, without a home.
John's letter was but a few lines, expressive of the loss she
was to him, and the pleasure his visit had afforded him. He
enclosed a letter, which he was sorry to say he had brought
down with him but totally forgotten. " It has already been
delayed in the post office, so I am afraid it will be of rather
ancient date by the time you get it," he concluded. The en-
closed letter was crumpled-looking, and directed in a scratchy,
irregular hand, very like the caligraphy of a "small account ; "
yet there was something in it familiar to Maggie's eye. She
opened it, and to her sincere delight found it signed "Sophie
De Bragance." " Poor dear Mrs. Berry ! " she almost exclaim-
ed aloud, " I thought I should never hear of her again," and
she proceeded to read as follows :
" MY DEAR MARGARET I suppose you think I must be
dead and buried by this time ; and a good deal better would
it be for me if I was, than ruined and miserable as I am.
Talk of novels ! no novel could be worse than the count ;
and yet if it had not been for two vile women he would not
be so bad. Well, my dear, when I parted with you I thought
I was going to have a fine time and enjoy life really ; and the
first fortnight or three weeks was uncommon nice. Then he
began with his tantrums, and made me quarrel with Mr.
Dunsford, and draw all of my money out of his hands, ex-
cept a fifteen hundred pounds, which, thank God, there was
some difficulty about. We went to Homburg, and lived in
the grandest style at the best hotel, dinner parties every day,
cards every night breaking the bank, my dear ! every sec-
ond evening at the saloon picnics no end of elegant com-
pany. Then a Polish princess turned up, a friend of the
baroness, a most fashionable, charming woman, ever so polite
36 THE WOOING O"f.
to me ; but the upshot was, that by the time the count got *1I
my poor money into his own hands he had a turn of bad
luck, and away we went to Vienna, and these two women
after us. Oh ! no words I could put down would describe
to you what I went through there ! I was put away from
my own table, and that Polish woman took my place there
is no use trying to spell her name, I don't know how, and
you couldn't say it if I did. She was the greatest devil
there ! I must write it ! that ever walked the earth, except
Madame Von Garn, she backing the other up, and knowing
my husband was mad about her. There's morals for you ! I
am heart-broken, and hope you'll excuse the writing, for my
tears are dropping on the paper, and the pen is like a hair-
pin ; but I'd like to tell it all to you. At last I got afraid
they would poison me, so I managed to sell my beautiful car-
buncle and diamond set, and escaped to England. I felt I
was flying for my life. If it could only be wrote in the ' Lon-
don Journal ' I am sure they would give a good bit of money
for.it. Dunsford was downright savage with me, and spoke
very cruel, and then I came here." (The letter was dated
Eastnor.) " It is a pretty seaside place, and there are lots of
visitors in the summer. But lor ! what am I to do on forty
pounds a year, used as I have been to the best of company,
and no end of outing ? It is enough to break any heart ; and
you see I am married hard and fast to that good-for-nothing
man, so I can have no more chances now. I have been
thinking if I could set up a nice boarding-house here ; with
my knowledge of life and society I could head the table well,
and make a connection. What do you say, my dear, to join-
ing me ? You were always so quick with the pen. I would
pay you five per cent, on the profits, and you know I would
have all the risk. Among all the people I have known, I de-
clare you are the only one I can think of as a real friend. I
think Mr. Dunsford is inclined to help me about the board-
ing-house. Write to me soon, and say what you think of my
plan, and also what you are doing. Lor ! what a goose you
was to refuse the earl ! What a help you might be to me
now ! But it was all that Trafford's doings ; he did not think
us fit to wipe his shoes.
Write soon, dear. Your attached and unhappy friend.
SOPHIE DE BRAGANCE.
P.S. Five per cent, is just a shilling in the pound mind
that."
Maggie perused this epistle with the deepest interest
THE WOOING O'T. 337
Foolish and commonplace as she was, Maggie could not help
thinking of the writer with compassion and sympathy. It
was to Mrs. Berry she owed her first emancipation her es-
cape from Aunt Grey, and the degrading servitude in Beverly-
Street. She would have given a good deal to assist her ex-
patroness ; but to return to her was impossible. After her
three months' acclimatization in an atmosphere so utterly
different, so far purer, she could not go back to Mrs. Berry.
" Yet where may I not have to go hereafter, when Miss
Grantham does not want me any longer ? " she thought rather
sadly. " And she really does not want me in the least. I
feel quite weary for want of occupation sometimes. I won-
der what will become of me. Ah ! there is no use of going
to meet trouble half way. I must have faith."
She sat down and wrote a long letter to the unhappy
countess, who had paid so dear for her empty title, and beg-
ged her not to let the correspondence drop.
This letter helped her through the day. Nevertheless, both
it and the evening were dull, in the absence of the bright
mistress of the mansion and her followers.
" Can you play backgammon or piquet or e'carte ? " asked
Miss Grantham, coming suddenly into the study where Maggie
was writing answers to some of the many appeals and formal
letters which inundated the heiress. It was two or three days
after Mr. Bolton's attack, and Maggie had scarcely seen her
in the intermediate time.
"Yes," replied Magie, " I can play backgammon and e'carte
the last not very well."
" You must come and play with Mr. Bolton, then, if you
will be so kind. He is better, and able to move into another
room, but so low and miserable ! Mr. Trafford says a little
society would do him good. He is fond of games, but I
have too much to do to pay him more than flying visits, and
Mr. Trafford is quite engrossed ; so you must supply our de-
ficiencies."
Maggie rose obediently, feeling, from a sort of bitterness
in Miss Grantham's tone that something was wrong.
Mr. Bolton was laid up in ordinary in a very comfortable
room in the opposite wing, corresponding to Miss Grantham's
study. He looked anything but amiable. He could not rise
to receive the ladies, for his foot, wrapped up in flannel, was
propped up on one of those mysterious red baize contri-
vances which are the official indication of " Gout in posses-
sion."
338 THE WOOING O'T.
11 I'm sorry you are suffering-, Mr. Bolton. But you are
better this morning, I hear. I have brought Miss Grey, who
is anxious to do anything she can in your service play
cards, read, write, or even arithmetic. I cannot bear to
think of your being shut up here all alone," said Miss Grant-
ham.
Maggie felt no small terror at being compelled to share his
solitude. Mr. Bolton was the only one of all the party who
was not genially civil to her, and she had an idea he disliked
her.
" I should be glad to be of any use," she said timidly.
" You are very good," returned Bolton, with a sort of
suppressed growl. " I have managed a letter to Mr. Lee, but
I feel twinges in my right hand ; the fact is, I am not fit for
any lady's society, and will mope here very well by myself.
I should like to see Mr. Trafford before he goes out."
" Mr. Trafford ? " echoed Miss Grantham, laughing. " You
must not expect to see him ; he lives at Southam now ; they
certainly have a charming party, and the most effective of
French women. I wish you could have seen her ' get up ' on
Wednesday ! There is another meet to-day, and she is to
appear, so Geoff is in attendance ; they are old friends, how-
ever. He knew her long ago, and they renewed their
acquaintance last spring. She is coming over here one
morning ; you must be well and see her."
" If I can stand, my dear young lady, I must travel. I
have been too long absent from my post."
After a little further talk, Miss Grantham rose, and
bestowing a significant look upon Maggie to remain, she left
the room.
"Are you quite sure you would rather not have me ? " said
she, with a blush and smile, to the invalid. There was
something so kindly, so candid, so simple in her manner,
that the formidable Bolton melted.
" If you will be so good, then. The fact is, I want to
know what is in the papers, and I do not feel quite up to
reading."
" I shall read with pleasure," and she sat down contentedly.
Maggie Grey had not only a pleasant expressive voice, but
was generally interested in whatever she read, and so read
intelligently ; occasionally she ventured to put a question,
which Mr. Bolton was well pleased to answer, and soon some-
what to his own surprise, found himself talking with a good
THE WOOING CCT. t 339
/
deal of interest and animation to " that little girl Miss Grant
ham is pleased to call her secretary."
Nor was this objectionable morsel of humanity quite
divested of ideas and opinions, which, though modestly put
forth, were not readily relinquished. Then she amused him
by a description of Lord Torchester's French friends, speak-
ing with unembarrassed frankness, for she had no idea the
family solicitor was acquainted with the earl's temporary
insanity and its disappointment.
Finally, Mr. Bolton's subjugation was completed by Mag-
gie's proficiency in backgammon, and her kindly unobtrusive
sympathy whenever a paroxysm of pain seized the sufferer.
No day passed without a message reaching Maggie that
Mr. Bolton would be much obliged if she could pay him a
visit after luncheon or after breakfast : and in short, she now
seemed to belong to Mr. Bolton ; she scarcely saw Miss
Grantham, and was angry with herself for feeling so keenly
that she was of no importance to that fascinating lady ; merely
one of her many whims ; although when she joined the party
after dinner, Miss Grantham was as kind and cordial as ever.
But their numbers were now diminished by the departure of
Lady Torchester, who had returned to her own home, and
more congenial society; the stout colonel had also disap-
peared, and possibly the contraction of the circle made the
conduct of each member more remarkable, for it seemed to
her that Trafford never spoke to her or noticed her. He
was always engaged with some one or something. He was
never uncivil or careless, but wonderfully pre-occupied.
However, she had no right to notice his proceedings or
shortcomings. Then he was frequently at Southam, and she
was much engaged with the invalid.
Maggie had read Mr. Bolton into a tranquil nap one
morning, a few days after Lady Torchester had left. The
sun was shining brightly, and all the world of Grantham was
out disporting itself. She slipped noiselessly from the room,
and wrapping herself up warmly, set out for a solitary ramble
through the leafless woods. The keen, clear air, and the
exercise she so much required, seemed to revive her, for she
had felt at starting unusually depressed. She imagined how
lovely the scenery must be in summer, when even in winter it
was so pleasant ; and she enjoyed occasionally starting a
pheasant as it rose with a sudden whirr. Youth has so many
delights when it is healthy and natural, mere life itself is a
feast. And so, thinking of the past a little, and somewhat
340 THE WOOING OT.
shrinking from the future, she strove to keep her thoughts
in order by employing them on the books she had read of
late, for her command of the Grantham library had been
another education for her. " I hope I shall not forget how to
speak French," she thought. " I am so sorry I did not see that
French lady when she came yesterday. I might have spoken
to her ; but it was worse to be totally overlooked. How
foolish it is of me to fancy myself anything more than a
secretary to Miss Grantham, kind and good as she is ! It
is impossible she could care for me as I could for her ; she
has so many people to love her, she attracts so much.
Surely it must be distracting to be such a millionaire in every
sense. I do not envy it. A sweet, quiet home, and just two
or three people very near and dear, to love and live for Ah !
that was too close ! "
A shot on her right it seemed in her ears made her
start, and she went on quickly and diverged in another
direction then paused and listened. But not hearing a
repetition, and being unacquainted with the path into which
she had struck, she determined to go back slowly, and, if she
heard no more, return to the house at once by the way she
knew. Before she had regained it, however, she perceived a
gentleman walking quickly through the trees, not following
any path, and it did not require a second look to tell her it
was Mr. Trafford. She was vexed and fluttered at the
encounter. She had been annoyed and disappointed by his
conduct of late. He had so entirely occupied the pedestal
of her hero-in-chief that it was mortifying to find he could be
so attracted by a married woman a worldly, intriguing
Frenchwoman, as Miss Grantham described her as to
neglect almost the courtesy due to his hostess ! Poor
Maggie had not yet reached that degree of maturity when we
comprehend that there is no such thing as clearly defined
boundary lines in character ; that dark and light shades off
into each other in infinite minute gradations. Her standard
was a very high one as it ought to be in young creatures
who have yet to bear the brunt of life's contact.
" I have not winged you, then, Miss Grey ? " said Trafford,
raising his hat as he met her. "I saw a human figure
through the trees just as I fired last, and feared I might have
hit nobler game than the bird I missed."
" I am quite safe ; but T was startled, and so turned from
the only path I know. If it is safe I shall now return."
THE WOOING O'T.
341
" Yes, it is safe ; but let me guide you by this wood back to
the house it's very pretty and scarcely longer."
" Thank you ; but you are leaving your sport : you will be
missed."
" No ; there was no one with me except the game-keeper,
and I have dismissed him. I am going back to see Mr. Bol-
ton, whose favor I seem to have lost lately. Pray let me
accompany you ; I want to speak to you."
There had been a time when such words from Trafford
would have made Maggie's heart beat ; but she had so
shamed herself out of the faint idea that had once entered in
and dwelt there the idea that he had any feeling beyond
kindly good-will that she now looked straight up in his face
with an expression of unbounded astonishment. Trafford
smiled as he met her eyes, satisfied of her absolute freedom
from any tenderness for him, or she could never have so
listened to his words, and noted how her countenance had
grown softer, more pensive, nay, almost sad, since he had first
seen it that, from some cause or other, there was more at-
traction about it than ever.
" Why are you astonished that I want to speak to you, Miss
Grey ! I always had a great deal to say to you in Paris, and
there you rather honored me with your confidence."
" It seemed quite natural there," replied Maggie,, blushing a
little ; " here it is different, and I am happier too. But what
do you want to say now ? "
Trafford felt greatly puzzled how to proceed. Everything
had so far been propitious beyond his hopes ; could he but
improve his present opportunity, complete success might
crown his efforts. Such a wonderful chance as meeting Mag-
gie out alone, however, could not be lost, so he collected his
thoughts and dashed into his subject.
" Something quite as confidential as if I was in the lowest
depths of despair, instead of being as joyous as you say you
are. Do you know that the Southam party are coming over
to dinner on Friday ? that is, Lady Brockhurst, Madame De
Beaumanoir, Neville. St, Lawrence, and the German fellow ! "
" No, I did not. If Miss Grantham wishes me to come
down in the evening I shall like to see that French lady you
have all talked about so much. I remember your taking
Lord Torchester to her house, much against his will."
" I dare say you do ; and why was it against his will ?
Now, I am going to take a great liberty in asking you as a
342 THE WOOING O'T.
personal favor not to appear on Friday, even if Miss Grant-
ham asks you ? "
" How can I refuse her ? " exclaimed Maggie, more and
more astonished.
" Say you are ill a headache, a cold, anything ; go to bed
if necessary, but don't show," said Trafford, with more
earnestness of manner than he had shown for many a day.
"But why ? What objection can you possibly have to my
appearing ? "
" Come, Miss Grey, could you not trust my motives without
an explanation. You must believe that I am your sincere
friend ! "
" Yes, I do ; that is, you are very kind," said Maggie, quite
dazed by this sudden show of interest so delightfully like
their former intercourse, and glancing up a sweet shy grateful
glance.
" Well, then, will you trust me, and do as I ask you ? "
" I feel almost tempted to do so, Mr. Trafford," said
Maggie, gravely. " But will you not tell me the reason why ?
When I am all alone I shall imagine horrors ; it would be better
to tell me. I am not easily offended."
" I am not so sure of that," said Trafford, " while he
thought of the reasonableness of her request, and the old
tender longing to save her pain, if possible, came over him.
He sought rapidly and eagerly some decent pretext. Sud-
denly a happy inspiration crossed his mind Lord Alfred St.
Lawrence's letter, in which he described his meeting with
Torchester and a very nice girl, " all alone by themselves ! "
Yes, it was the very thing. " I sometimes think you are a
little quarrelsome ; however, promise on this occasion to take
what I am going to say in good part, and I will make a clean
breast of it."
" Pray do ; it will be much the best plan."
" Well, I think when we had a little talk on the subject,
you wished poor Torchester's disappointment as regards your-
self should be kept a profound secret ? "
" Certainly ; and is it not ? "
" So far, yes. Now do you remember going to Versailles
with Torchester one day to a fte, and dining with him I
mean a whole party afterward ? "
" Yes," said Maggie, bathed in blushes. " I had no idea
then that it was such a breach of the proprieties. I have
learnt much since."
Trafford was silent for a moment, and then resumed :
THE WOOING O'T. 343
" Do you remember meeting a young Englishman in the
train, who "
" Dined with us a pleasant, fair, little man ? I remember
him perfectly," interrupted Maggie.
' Well, he is Lord Alfred St. Lawrence ; and probably the
first thing he would say on meeting you would be some
reminder of your having been at Versailles with Torchester,
partly to chaff Tor."
" But," said Maggie, still a little bewildered, " he would
not probably remember me."
" He would," said Trafford, emphatically. " He wrote to
me about you before I ever saw you, and "
" Ah ! I see," cried Maggie, clasping her hands together
in much perturbation. " It must have seemed very wrong to
be out alone with a man of Lord Torchester's rank. What
must he have thought ? " And as she spoke her eyes met
Trafford's a deep blush flitted over her face ; his heart beat
quick. Both at once thought of another tete d tets expedition,
too delightful to be talked about.
"You exaggerate terribly," said Trafford, adding, with a
suppressed tenderness of which he was unconscious, " no one
could know you and think evil ; but as it is perhaps it would
be as well that poor Torchester's experience should be buried
in oblivion. You see the force of my suggestion, but of
course you will do as you think fit."
" I shall certainly act as you suggest," said Maggie, quickly,
" for I feel scarcely capable of judging such a question. I
am only learning the A B C of social life. Six months ago I
did not comprehend its enormous distances, and I must say I
feel infinitely provoked at being compelled to use the smallest
deceit about so paltry a matter. I am quite sure it is of more
importance than you admit."
" It is not, I assure you ; but one day I shall be able to ex-
plain things to you more fully, meantime I may depend
upon "
" My staying in my room under false pretences ? " inter-
rupted Maggie. " Yes, you may."
" Thank you."
" Nay," said Maggie ; " I ought probably to thank you,"
and they walked on for a few minutes in silence.
" I am going up to town on Monday," said Trafford, rather
abruptly, " and I believe the Southam party disperse on Tues-
day or Wednesday."
" I am glad of it I mean about Lady Brockhurst's friends,"
344 THE WOOING O'T.
added Maggie, smiling at her inadvertence; "for I do
think Miss Grantham has been any the happier for them.
think she looked twice as bright before they came."
" Did she ? " said Trafford, indifferently.
Another pause ensued, during which Trafford thought he
probably ought to wish his companion good morning ; but no,
he would go a little further. It was so delightfully like their
pleasant Paris intercourse. There could be no possible mis-
chief. And Maggie reflected in a troubled, tangled fashion,
what could possibly make Mr. Trafford so earnest and eager
that she should avoid Lord Alfred ; surely there was some-
thing more in it than she could make out ; at any rate, he
cared enough for her to take a little trouble, and this impres-
sion sent a sudden life and animation through her \vhole be-
ing that she did not stop to analyze just then. Paris was pres-
ent to her memory also, and out of the quick blending cur-
rent of associated ideas she suddenly broke the silence by
exclaiming : " I had a long letter from ppor Mrs. Berry I
mean Madame De Bragance on Wednesday. She gave me
a dreadful account of the count," and Maggie proceeded to
describe Mrs. Berry's misfortunes.
" What an unprincipled scoundrel ! " exclaimed Trafford at
last. " She was an utter idiot to be taken in by him ; but she did
not deserve such treatment. Can you not fancy her heading
the table at a fashionable boarding-house ? I believe there
are such places. I protest I will persuade Tor to come down
with me next summer and put up with her at what is the
name of the place? And Miss Grey, tell her to call her house
the Hotel De Bragance it will be quite a success. How did
she find you out ? "
" Oh, my cousin forwarded me the letter."
" Of course. I suppose he is a tolerable correspondent ? *
" He gives me one letter for every two of mine," returned
Maggie with a slight smile. " But then you know he is busy,
and I am idle."
" Idle ? " repeated Trafford, indulging in a long look at her
face, now lit up into quite a different expression from the
composed, pensive, half melancholy countenance he had so
often noticed during those long evenings when he did not
seem to see her. " Idle ? Why, with a demi-semi share in
the weight of authorship, how can you be idle ? What has
become of the novel ? "
" Ah I it has stood still since Lady Brockhurst appeared,
THE WOOING O'T. 345
though I imagine the French lady Miss Grantham describes
would come in admirably."
" Indeed ? Why ? " asked Trafford.
" She must be so handsome and dark, and would do for
the wicked woman."
" Poor Madame De Beaumanoir ! what has she done ? "
said Trafford, laughing.
" Nothing very bad, I dare say," returned Maggie. " But
Miss Grantham's description of her has made quite an impres-
sion on my mind. I am so sorry I shall miss seeing her on
Friday, by obeying you," and she glanced up at him interrog-
atively.
" Yes, you must," said Trafford, meeting her eyes with a
look half tender, half entreating. " You will put so much
faith in me ? "
" I will," returned Maggie, feeling that had the " I will "
committed her to a far more tremendous sacrifice, she would
have spoken it.
" I fancy, however, I have seen Madame De Beaumanoir,"
resumed Maggie.
" Indeed ! Where ? " said Trafford in no small surprise.
" At the Hotel de Ville."
" At the ball ? "
" Yes," said Maggie ; smiling that he should italicize the
ball. " Is she not a tall, graceful lady, with an air, as though
she might sit still, for everything must come to her, and great
lustrous black eyes ? "
" Exactly, precisely ; you have photographed her. How
did you know her ? " You are a keen observer."
" I had heard you speak of her, then I saw you speaking to
her in the small salon opening from the ball-room, and I felt
it was Madame De Beaumanoir." Maggie was unconscious
of all her words conveyed ; she simply told her impressions
and recollections, as clearly as she could, but for long after-
ward those words echoed in Trafford's heart ; " I felt it was
Madame De Beaumanoir."
" Well, you have the less to regret on Friday, and I would
advise you to write .a chapter about her at once ; she will
enliven your novel immensely." Maggie would have been
greatly puzzled to account for the conviction that flashed .
across her, that Trafford neither liked nor respected Madame
De Beaumanoir ; something in his tone, something in the curt
of his lip, and more than all, the strange instinctive sympathy
346 THE WOOING O'T.
which was ever present between them to reveal each to the
other.
" I miss one of my dogs," said Trafford, abruptly. " I
must go back and find him ; " he felt he must not go on talk'
ing and listening. " Shall you see Bolton when you go in ?
Pray tell him I am coming to pay him a visit before dinner ? "
and raising his hat, Trafford let Maggie pass on.
Maggie found the interesting invalid in a mood of sup-
pressed testiness, for Miss Grantham, in her riding habit, was
paying him a visit, and with all his independence of spirit
Bolton felt himself compelled to be observant and deferential
to the grande dame, the great heiress of Grantham.
" Have you had a nice walk, Miss Grey ? " said the chate-
laine. " I seem scarcely to see you since I lent you to Mr.
Bolton."
" I have greatly enjoyed it," replied Maggie, feeling
strangely reluctant to mention her rencontre ; but determined
to do so, she went on, addressing Bolton ^ " I met Mr. Traf-
ford, and he desired me to say he was coming to see you be-
fore dinner."
" He is very good," growled the gouty subject.
" I fancied Mr. Trafford was in Southam, as usual," said
Miss Grantham, with a slight change in the inflexion of her
voice, which caught Maggie's affectionate notice.
" I do not think he has been there to-day," said Maggie,
laughing; "he was shooting, and nearly shot me then he
told me he would return and see Mr. Bolton. I did not think
any of the gentlemen were out in the woods, or I should not
have ventured there."
So saying, she rose and left Miss Grantham with Mr. Bol-
ton, to await, as she thought it probable she would, the com-
ing of her favored kinsman.
When Maggie reached the welcome solitude of her own
room, she set herself to think very profoundly of her con-
versation with Trafford. The first and most prominent im-
pression was wounded pride. That it should be considered
so derogatory to her to have been seen alone with Lord Tor-
chester, though merely going to meet her chaperone and a
large party, was wormwood to her proud, sensitive nature:
yet it must be so, or a man like Mr. Trafford, so calm, so cog-
nizant of the real values of things, would not have taken all
the trouble he did. And how good it was of him ! How
true he was to her ! All the truer and worthier of regard,
because he never for a moment approached love-making
THE WOOING O'T. 347
nothing of the " humbug " against which Cousin John warned
her. Nevertheless, the whole affair was humiliating, and it
was provoking to reflect that while the society of these pleas-
ant, kindly men, with their well-bred readiness to oblige, and
unobtrusive delicate flatter}' of manner, which, however little
it might mean, possessed so great a charm, was forbidden to
her, on the other hand, the honest affection of a man, for
whose character she could not help feeling a certain respect,
was utterly distasteful, for want of those outward symbols,
which she was by no means sure were the certain signs of an
equivalent inward grace. " Still," she thought, " if Mr. Traf-
ford's life had been ever so rough, he never could be like
Cousin John ; there is something quite different in him.
Lord Torchester might have been; under his careless quiet
ways there is a world of pride and conceit; but I do like
him ; nevertheless, I do not feel that he is in the slightest de-
gree too good or too great to associate with me. The only
one I feel to be my superior is Miss Grantham, and she is.
She is so good, so generous, so grand and beautiful. She w
almost fond of me, too, and I do hate to deceive her in the
very least thing ; yet it is as well she should not know that
Lord Torchester was ever so silly as to propose for me what
could he have been thinking about ? I had better do as Mr.
Trafford advises me."
In pursuance of this decision, Maggie discovered she had
a headache and slight cold, after reading and playing back-
gammon with Mr. Bolton for a considerable part of the next
day; so retired, having tormented herself into a state of
discomfort not far short of the indisposition she affected.
" You are really looking unwell and headachy," said Miss
Grantham, when Maggie went to her dressing-room, as was
her habit before dinner. " Pray do not think of coming down
this evening ii you do not feel quite equal to it ; but try and
be well to-morrow, for some of the Southam party are coming
over to dinner."
" You will want me to play for you," faltered Maggie, feel-
ing the guiltiest wretch on earth.
" Not on that account," replied Miss Grantham, " Lady
Brockhurst plays very well, and is most obliging. But I want
you to see La Marquise De Beaumanoir, that we may talk ot
her, and compare notes ; she is a handsome witch. I cannot
like her. Geoffrey Trafford seems perfectly unlike himself
since she came. But we will discuss all that the day after to-
morrow. If you are laid up, what will Mr. Bolton do ? He
34 THE WOOING O'T.
would hardly have you at first, and now he evidently thinks
himself ill-used if you snatch an hour's walk."
" Oh ! I shall manage to read to him."
" No, no. Keep yourself up for the evening."
Maggie therefore secluded herself, and never did she feel
so desolate, so divested of all ties. If Cousin John had been
anything bearable, her heart would have turned to him in such
an hour. But he was not; and in spite of her most de-
termined efforts, Trafford's look and tone of that terrible
moment when he bid her good-bye in Paris, his words, the
sort of impulse with which he turned back to say, " Should
you be in any trouble or difficulty, promise to write to me
promise me to do this, dear Maggie ; " would come back to
her with a mingled pain and delight. Yes ; great and remote
and unapproachable as he was, some mysterious link of sym-
pathy existed between them. And then that delighted drive
to the Bois de Boulogne, to which he never made the smallest
allusion ; that, at all events, was a secret known to themselves
alone.
After listening awhile to the distant sounds of music and
laughter, which came to her at intervals when the doors of
the rooms down stairs opened, Maggie went sadly to bed, and
fell asleep, planning an ideal home very sweet and humble,
framed out of dear memories of the old ones and certain les-
sons since laid deeply to heart. But alas ! there was no well-
defined object to share it with her; only a very misty outline,
with dark eyes, and a grave, tender smile. Even from this
she strove to turn away ; and so, fighting wearily against such
foolish fancies, she passed into real dreamland, with the
tears on the long lashes which were one of her few claims to
beauty.
It was late in the afternoon of the day following the din-
ner-party that Miss Grantham came into Maggie's sitting-
room, her hat in her hand ; and throwing off a thick mantle,
she sat down on a low chair before the fire. "Are you bet-
ter, Miss Grey ? I was so sorry you were not able to join us
last night."
" Had you a pleasant dinner ? "
" Yes very quite a success, the people seemed to think.
I was very tired. I do wish you had seen Madame De Beau-
manoir ; she was quite a picture. She wore ruby velvet, with
a square corsage, and such a superb old white point, car-
buncle and diamond ornaments, and one great ruby rose with
a diamond heart in her hair. Nothing could be more effect
THE WOOING O'T. 349
ive. And then she is so calm and still, as if there to receive
homage ; yet, with all her quiet, she gives me the idea of a
smouldering fire. I wonder why Lady Brockhurst likes her
so much ? She has none of the airy graces of a French wo-
man. I could fancy one of those grand, wicked Italian
women we read of. I do wish you had seen her."
" I wish I had ; but I was better in my room."
" Lady Brockhurst was so pretty and charming ; and Aunt
Dormer kept wide awake. But you would have been amused
at the way Madame De Beaumanoir tries to put me back into
my place as a demoiselle. She expressed, in her gentle way,
her compassion for my desolate position as an unmarried
woman, without an assured stand in society?-" It was very
politely veiled, but that was the sum of it ; and I must say
Geoffrey stood by me gallantly. He said, ' You must make
allowance for English habits. We, Miss Grantham's de-
voted adherents, believe she can stand alone, though each
and all hope she will not.' Now that was very good, for I
am sure he does not seem to care much about it. The way
he has run after Madame De Beaumanoir is perfectly scan-
dalous. Have you not seen a great change in him since she
was here ! "
" Yes ; I think I do."
" Now, I know you observe keenly, Miss Grey and and "
the proud heiress blushed and hesitated " I think you are
a true-hearted girl, and fond of me ; if I open my mind to
you, you will not betray me ? For, do you know, I have no
one to speak to confidentially., I used to tell Lady Brock-
hurst everything ; but I do not feel as if I could now."
" If I could be the smallest use or comfort to you," cried
Maggie, enthusiastically, " it would make me so happy ; and
indeed you may trust me."
" I believe it," said Miss Grantham, and then kept silence
for a long time, as it seemed to her listener.
" I never remember the world without Geoffrey Trafford,"
began the heiress, in a low, dreamy tone. " You see, he was
quite grown up a man when Torchester and I were chil-
dren, and looked older than he is. There was always a sort
of importance about him ; I do not know why ; not of his
own seeking. Grandpapa thought so much of him ; and
Lady Torchester every one. He was quite run after in
London, I have been told. When he was down here, if I was
naughty (and I was generally) he would sometimes speak to
me a few stern words that made me quite ashamed of myself.
350 THE WOOING O'T.
But usually he was so gentle. I used to sit on his knee in
those days, and kiss him, and put my head on his shoulder."
The beautiful heiress smiled and blushed as she spoke, while
her companion colored from sympathy. " Even then,"
resumed Miss Grantham, " I determined to marry Geoffrey
Trafford ; and indeed I imagined I had only to will it I
was so accustomed to get everything I wanted. Well, then
he took to that wandering life poor Mr. Bolton is so vexed
about, and I saw very little of him ; indeed, we had not met
at all for four years, and I had quite ceased to think of him,
when he came over to Craigmurchau Castle last autumn,
while I was staying there. I had been growing quite sick of
every one, they made such a fuss about me, and I was so
pleased to see Geoff. He was not nearly so good-looking as
he had been ; he had grown very dark and thin ; but, oh ! he
was just the same to me, and the moment we met I felt just
the same. He was just as kind and gentle as ever, but I
could not play tricks and coquette with him ; a word always
brought me to my senses. And then he was so calm ; I
always felt him an unattainable good, and it was so provoking
that the only thing on earth I cared much about I could not
get. Ah ! I cannot tell you what I have suffered. He and
Torchester went away to St. Petersburg, and I was wretched
and restless till we met in London, and then I wag so happy !
He seemed quite pleased to come down here. We were
always together, and though he never made love to me, he
never would have stayed on here for three weeks unless there
was some extraordinary attraction. I used to fancy that my
being so rich kept him back, for I believe he is rather poor,
and is proud and peculiar. I think the secret of his impor-
tance is, that he does not value what other people do ; he has
no price, in short. Ever)' one will hear the truth from him.
Ah !" cried the heiress, suddenly clasping Maggie's hands,
" I would give all I have and hope for, just to hear Geoffrey
ask me to love him, and see him look at me as I know he
could look." Then covering her face, she exclaimed, " It is
very shocking to say so, but it is such a comfort. And you
will not betray me ? "
" No, you may trust me, dearest," said Maggie, tenderly.
All formality had disappeared between them ; it was not the
noble mistress and the obedient secretary, but woman and
woman sweet nature free from all masquerade. " But you
must try and not think so much about him," said Maggiey
THE WOOING &r. 351
tremblingly; for something told her that her friend's love
was hopeless.
"Why ?" cried Miss Grantham, snatching away her hand.
" Do you think I am not to be loved ? Do you too see his
indifference ? "
" By no means ; I have always seen that he prefers being
with you to any one. But remember, there is much of his
life you know nothing about. He may have formed some
other attachment or engagement. Indeed," cried Maggie,
ardently, " he must have lost his heart before he saw you in
Scotland, or he could not have helped falling in love with
you."
" You think so, at all events ; there is- truth in your voice,"
said Miss Grantham. She rose and stood before the long
glass between the windows. " It is too dark to see much,' r
she said. " I am fair enough ; I am not afraid of that ; but I
am never quite sure I understand Geoffrey. " Oh ! we were
so happy before this odious Frenchwoman appeared ! He is
quite devoted to her. Do you know he has only ridden with
me once since Christmas Day? and now " (lowering her
voice) " he is going to town on Monday, and she is going oil
Tuesday ! You know he had positively refused to remain
here a moment longer than last Wednesday week, and
directly he heard she was here he changed all his plans, and
I believe, is only going because she is. I believe they have
settled it between them."
" But is not this lady married ? " asked Maggie, some-
what scandalized.
" Yes, of course she is. Oh ! that does not matter.
Though I really believe Geoffrey Trafford is very steady, I do-
not think he would stop at trifles if he wanted anything very
much."
There was a pause, and Maggie said softly ; " It is very
curious why he should seem so devoted, for I cannot help
fancying that he does not really like Madame De Beau-
manoir."
" Why ? why ? " asked Miss Grantham, eagerly. " I have
some such unaccountable impression myself ; that is why I
so much wished you to see them together. What are your
reasons ? "
" Mr. Trafford's voice is very expressive," said Maggie, a
little reluctantly, " and when he says ' Madame De Beau-
manoir' or ' the charming marquise,' there is a little something
of impatience or contempt oh, I cannot describe what m
352 THE WOOING OT.
his voice. And then, the other day, when you were all going
to ride somewhere I forget the name he was in the hall,
and said, ' I must go to Southam,' as if it was such a punish-
ment."
" Might that not have been put on " asked Miss Grant-
ham.
" Oh, no, no ! " cried Maggie ; " he spoke out from his
heart."
" You are a shrewd little thing," returned Miss Grantham.
" But I too think that Madame De Beaumanoir has some
hold upon him we cannot understand." She was silent for a
minute, and then resumed : " After all, I sometimes think
Geoffrey is not quite indifferent to me. You must tell me
your opinion now that I have spoken so openly ; but be sure
you give me your real opinion."
" On such a subject I would not for the world disguise it,"
said Maggie, earnestly. " To me it seems that he must love
you that he cannot help it ; but it is impossible to say. And
oh, dear Miss Grantham, try not to think of him. If he loves
any one else, you must put him out of your heart ; you must
not subject yourself to the indignity of giving more than you
receive. But as to me say anything and everything ; I will
never repeat a syllable again, even to my own thoughts, if you
wish me not ; all shall be sacred to me."
" You are a dear, tender, delicate thing ! " cried Miss
Grantham. " You have taken all this just as I like ; you
don't humiliate me, and it is a comfort to be able to speak to
you. I am in your debt for this."
" Ah ! " said Maggie, who sat down on a low ottoman near
her, drawing closer as she spoke, " if you would love me a lit-
tle just a little bit ! For I am very lonely."
" I will," cried the generous, passionate, indulged heiress,
laying her arm on her companion's shoulder. " You shall be
my friend."
Maggie looked up delighted. The firelight flashed and
glowed over the fine form, the grand blue eyes, the rich, dis-
ordered golden .hair. The protecting attitude of the one, the
tender, quiet, slender figure at her feet, with upturned, stead-
fast, sad eyes they made a pretty picture ; but a discerner
of character might, perhaps, have traced more of strength and
endurance in the humbler face and form.
" Now it is time to dress," said Miss Grantham after a
pause, " and you must come down to dinner to-day as my
friend."
THE WOOING OT. 353
" Oh, no, no ! I do not mean that sort of friendship," said
Maggie, smiling brightly ; " nothing can bridge over the
space between us. But I mean, when we are alone, or that
you have none of your own people with you, that you should
consider me a true, faithful friend, if not a very useful one,
and just let me do whatever I can for you."
" I should like you to come down to dinner, though. Why
should not I have whom I like ? "
" Certainly ; but I should prefer to keep in my place, and
you would find it awkward to send me back to it, as you
would be obliged some day. Be guided by me in this."
" As you seem so earnest about it, I give in," said Miss
Grantham ; " but I shall certainly expect you in the evening.
You can wear a morning dress, if you fear to increase your
cold. I really feel brighter and more hopeful since I had
this talk with you."
There was but a small party in the green drawing-room
that evening. Trafford, however, had for once renounced the
seductions of Southam, and bestowed his attention on Miss
Grantham, who played piquet with Mr. Bolton. It was the
first evening for more than a week that Bolton had joined
the circle.
" How are you, Miss Grey," asked Lord Torchester, rang,
ing up alongside. " So you were on the sick list yesterday ?
You would have met St. Lawrence if you had been able to
come down. Don't you remember little Alf ? "
" Scarcely," said Maggie, blushing and trembling at this
sudden trenching on forbidden ground, after all she had sub-
mitted to avoid it.
" A fair-haired bright little fellow dined with us at Ver-
sailles. What a jolly day that was ! " Lord Torchester
began to forget he had absolutely proposed to this quiet little
girl, and was only conscious in a kindly way that she was
pleasantly unobtrusive, and had evidently kept faith loyally
with him.
" It was, indeed," replied Maggie, looking up, " a most
charming day " and to change the subject before any one
could overhear their conversation, she began to speak of Mrs.
Berry and her misfortunes. Lord Torchester was quite inter-
ested. He was by no means indifferent to gossip, and, like
Trafford, was highly amused at the idea of her establishing a
boarding-house. While they conversed Miss Grantham's
game came to an end, and Mr. Bolton said good-night.
" Prudence is the better part of valor, so I shall not trifl*
354 THE WOOING OT.
with the tyrant ; but do not fancy you are to be off duty, Miss
Grey. I shall expect a long lecture to-morrow, if Miss Grant-
ham can spare you."
" I am quite at your service, Mr. Bolton."
" Let me help you up-stairs," said Trafford, good-naturedly.
" Come, messieurs ! Lady Dormer is waiting for her
whist," said Miss Grantham, as they left the room. She
spoke with authority, and her listeners felt bound to obey.
So all sat down, Maggie having Lord Torchester for a part-
ner.
Trafford stopped to look at the game when he returned,
and then joined his hostess, who was reading by the fireside
at some distance from the whist-table. After exchanging a
few remarks they were silent, a feeling of restraint embarrass-
ing both. At last Miss Grantham, whose eyes rested on the
whist-party, exclaimed warmly and abruptly. " She is a
sweet girl ; quite an uncommon character. She has won my
heart."
" Who is this fortunate individual ? "
" Miss Grey. I had such a long talk with her to-day. I
do not think she is very happy."
Miss Grantham's words gave Trafford sincere pleasure,
though he had not a profound belief in the speaker's stability.
He looked down at her with a kindly, almost tender expres-
sion.
" She is indeed lucky to have gained a foothold in such a
royal domain as I have always believed your heart to be," he
said, in the softest tones of his pleasant voice ; and the heir-
ess of Grantham felt suddenly how good a thing life was.
" Yes, such as it is, she has a foothold in it," she went on.
And as to that appalling cousin of hers, she shall never marry
him ; she is much too nice. I do not think she cares for
him."
" Did you ask her ? " said Trafford, smiling.
" No. With all her gentleness, I could not take liberties
with her. That is what I like so much. There is always
something to be won."
" My dear Margaret, I begin to expect wonders from the
novel, and to tremble at the prospect of appearing in it.
Your perceptions are growing painfully vivid. Our characters
are at your mercy."
" Nonsense, Geoff ! But I must say I am tempted to take
your friend Madame De Beaumanoir, label her ' Poison,' and
give her a prominent place in my pages."
THE WOOING O'T. 355
" It is curious the sort of antipathy you seem to have felt
to my charming friend from the first. Is there anything that
can be termed reason at the bottom of it ? Or is it simply
constitutional ? "
"Constitutional, moral, mental, physical anything you
like. And I am quite sure she hates me."
" On the contrary," said Trafford, amused at her earnest-
ness, " she admires you immensely, and often talks of the
grace and beauty of ' Mademoiselle De Grantham,' as she
calls you. Nothing, I am sure, would give her greater pleas-
ure than to dispose of you and your territories. She con-
siders your relatives terribly negligent of their duties ; and
considers Torchester as the most proper and natural alliance
for you."
" Geoffrey ! " cried Miss Grantham, her eyes sparkling.
" How dare you discuss me with that horrid woman ? I
cannot bear to think of it ! " the indignant tears sprang to
her eyes.
" Margaret," replied Trafford, more gravely, " do you not
think you might trust your name with me ? Who would
regard it more tenderly than I ? Come ! what have I done to
vex you lately, eh Margaret ? for I have not been in favor."
" I do not admit that," said Miss Grantham, recovering
herself. " You have done nothing to deserve my dis-
pleasure."
Here the whist party showed a desire for change. Mr.
Longmore thought that dangerous, careless fellow Trafford
had enjoyed a long enough tete a tete with the heiress ; and
Maggie feeling unaccountably weary and dreadfully stupid,
took advantage of her character as a semi-invalid to retire.
" Take care of yourself," said Miss Grantham kindly.
" Be sure you send for nurse to give you one of her famous
milk possets."
Maggie tried in vain to sleep ; she had too much food for
thought to be successful ; ever)' day seemed to bring some
subtle change in her inner history, the one which had just
closed especially. Though always fighting stoutly against
the ever-intrusive idea of Trafford's words and looks and
pleasant voice, which sounded as if it never could adapt
itself to anything silly, or coarse, or false ; though she
struggled against these recollections, and endeavored, in
thought, to keep herself separate from any association with
so exalted a personage, she had never known how inextricably
he was entwined with every fibre of her heart until that day
356 THE WOOING O'T.
when Miss Grantham's confession imperatively demanded
her utter renunciation of such sweet vague dreams ! He now
belonged to her friend, and it was more than probable that
the reason assigned by Miss Grantham (Trafford's possible
poverty) was the only one which held him back from being
her avowed lover. Maggie had never imagined that any of
the mighty Traffords could be even comparatively poor ; this
partially accounted for his seeming indifference to his
beautiful kinswoman ; and yet yet, across all her reasoning
and resolution came the strong instinctive conviction, that he
did not love the heiress of Grantham. " Thank God," she
thought, " he is going away ; I shall be more at rest when he
is not here to puzzle me. What could have been his object
in wishing me to avoid that Lord Alfred ? From the way Lord
Torchester spoke, it could not have mattered much whether
I met him or not. At all events, Mr. Trafford must have
meant well. If I doubted that, chaos indeed would be come
again ! "
Sunday broke through a misty rain, and the three ladies
drove solemnly to church, escorted by the correct Grantham
Longmore, whom Miss Grantham declared had been
christened with a view to his inheriting, by hook or crook,
the family domains.
Lord Torchester and Trafford disappeared at church time,
and Mr. Bolton had not made his descent.
" What has become of Torchester ? " asked Miss Grant-
ham.
" Oh, he and Trafford talked of riding over to Hillsborough,
to see some colts that are for sale," replied Longmore.
Lady Brockhurst and all her party, except Madame De
Beaumanoir, were in the family pew ; and Miss Grantham,
noting the exception, glanced expressively at Maggie.
" You should have brought Madame la Marquise to see an
English country church," said Miss Grantham to the
viscountess, and the two parties joined issue in the porch.
" She was to have come," said Lady Brockhurst, " but had
letters from Paris I fancy from the directeur, though she is
rather un esprit fort so she stayed at home to answer them.
I imagine a Protestant temple was tabooed. I shall miss her
terribly she leaves on Tuesday a most charming person."
" Exceedingly," said Miss Grantham. " I don't believe a.
word about her being forbidden to enter a Protestant church,",
she continued, as soon as they were in the carriage. " She
cares little for church or confession, I suspect."
THE WOOING O'T. 357
" Still, it is possible," said Maggie. ' Many Frenchwomen
are devotes in an odd, inconsistent way."
TrafTord was rather late for luncheon, and Miss Grantham
remarked, " I thought you and Tor went over to Hillsborough
together?"
" I accompanied him part of the way, but I do not interest
myself in colts, as I have no stud," replied Trafford, in a
quiet voice ; and Miss Grantham, somehow, did not like to
question him further, so asked if any one had seen Mr.
Bolton. Maggie had. He had had some severe twinges,
but was rather amiable, and she was going to read to him
after luncheon.
A heavy cloud settled on Miss Grantham's brow, and she
scarcely spoke again during the repast. Immediately it was
over she rose and retired to her study, where Maggie
followed her.
" Don't stay with me," said the heiress, abruptly. " I
would not speak if you did. Go to Mr. Bolton. I shall be
in a better temper when you come back."
Maggie obeyed, and as she went out, met Trafford at the
door.
" Is Miss Grantham visible ?" he asked.
" I think so," replied Maggie, and passed on.
" It is quite fine now, Margaret. Tor and Longmore have
gone to smoke ; come out and have a walk with me."
" I do not feel inclined to accommodate myself to your
whims."
" Do come. It is my last clay here, so don't be unfriendly.
Come, I want to talk to you."
" If I take cold, on your head be it," said Miss Grantham,
rising ; and a few minutes later, from the window of Mr.
Eolton's sitting-room, Maggie saw the paii (and exceedingly
well-matched they looked) walk away down one of the
carriage-drives that crossed the park.
The evening passed as usual, but Maggie observed that
Miss Grantham was peculiarly quiet and pensive ; and when
they retired made no advance to a private talk. Trafford, in
saying good-night, looked into her eyes earnestly for an in-
stant, adding, "And good-bye. I leave in the morning."
258 THE WOOING OT.
CHAPTER XXVn.
THE next morning all the world seemed absorbed in Mt
Trafford's departure, which Maggie viewed from a safe
window, half hidden by a friendly curtain. She had thanked
God he was going, and now he was gone ! Well, it waa
wonderful how much seemed to have gone with him. She
felt disappointed, too, that Miss Grantham had not sought
her for sympathy and comfort. It seemed that the burst of
warmth and affection which had so delighted her was to bear
no further fruits. However, Maggie determined to arm her-
self with the twin giants faith and patience.
Luncheon was hardly over when the Southam carriage
drove up, and to the evident surprise of Miss Grantham
" Lady Brockhurst and Madame De Beaumanoir " were an-
noumced to be in the drawing-room. " Be sure you come in,"
said Miss Grantham to Maggie. " I am so glad there is a
chance for you to see her." They were almost the first words
she had spoken since she sat down, and Maggie was quite re-
joiced to be addressed even in a semi-confidential manner.
To the spoilt heiress it was nearly impossible to disguise her
feelings, or assume that which she did not feel, and every
one could discern that she was depressed and ill at ease.
This condition of things being attributed by the remaining
gentlemen to the departure of " that fellow Trafford," they
were proportionately discontented, so a general gloom in-
fected the company, and every one was relieved by the ar-
rival of visitors.
When Maggie reached the drawing-room, Miss Grantham.
was speaking to Madame De Beaumanoir, who stood near the
fire, and Lady Brockhurst had nestled herself into a low chair
close to Lady Dormer.
As Maggie entered, Miss Grantham half turned, and
said, " Miss Grey, Lady Brockhurst, Madame De Beauma.
noir."
Both ladies looked at her, and Maggie felt abashed under
their scrutiny ; there was, she fancied, something peculiar in
the glance which the French lady flashed upon her, as though
she knew and hated her ; it was but instantaneous, and she
was bland as ever.
THE WOOING OT. 35j
" Madame De Beaumanoir was going to leave us to-day,
ut the weather was so fine she said she would like to drive
ver and bid you good-bye," said Lady Brockhurst to Miss
frrantham.
" How very kind ! Then you do not leave just yet ? "
" To-morrow, sans faute. I am obliged to return to Paris.
This charming visit has kept me too long. I hope, dear
mademoiselle, to see you soon in our gay city." Then
turning to Maggie, with what she thought perfect sweetness
and good-breeding, " Have you been in Paris, mademoi-
selle ? "
" Yes, and greatly enjoyed my stay there."
" Without doubt. I suppose you were with Mademoiselle
De Grantham ? " continued the marquise, looking steadfastly
at her.
Maggie could not help blushing under her gaze, while Miss
Grantham answered, " No, Miss Grey and I had not found
each other out then."
" I imagined mademoiselle had been your companion for
long ; all things are so feudal and long established in your
tiagnificent chateau."
" Miss Grey could not be a very old institution anywhere,"
said Lord Torchester, good-humoredly, in English (the con-
versation had hitherto been carried on in French.)
" Come, Torchester ; you are more accomplished than I
thought ! " cried his cousin. " I did not imagine you under-
stood French."
" I understand more than you think," said the earl, signifi-
cantly.
" Really ! What a dangerous character," she replied, laugh-
ing.
" But yes," said Madame De Beaumanoir, " he was dan-
gerous and alarming in Paris. I heard of him, and she shook
her head playfully at the young nobleman.
" Only Geoff Trafford's scandal," he returned. " It is well
for Geoff I do not tell tales of him," and he nodded confi-
dentially to Madame De Beaumanoir.
" Fi done ! It is not fit for mademoiselle to hear such
badinage. And Monsieur Trafford he has parted, is it not
so?"
" Yes. Gone to London en route. Where, Torchester ? *
" Tartary Siberia Kamschatka. Heaven knows."
"You really do not think so," said Miss Grantham, opening
her blue eyes.
360 THE WOOING OT.
" You English gentlemen are so very enterprising that is
to say, restless. Dear mademoiselle, you must choose parti
among my countrymen ! "
"They are so much more domestic and stay-at-home," said
Lord Torchester, gravely.
" N'importe ! Why, husbands go, so long as they wan-
der."
" I'm sure Frenchmen are better-tempered and easier to
live with, from all I hear," cried Miss Grantham, vexed, she
scarce knew why, with the earl.
" English ladies, at least, do my countrymen justice," said
madame, a smile curving her crimson lip. " And you, too,
ma petite demoiselle, what say you? You, too, appreciate
French gentlemen."
" I was very fond of one French gentleman," said Maggie,
and without thought.
There was a good-humored laugh. " We little thought of
extracting such a confession," said Miss Grantham.
" I presume you do not mean Monsieur De Bragance," said
the earl.
" No, indeed ! " returned Maggie, laughing gaily at her
own naivett. "It was poor Monsieur Du Val. I think
you have seen him," she added, addressing Lord Torches-
ter.
" The old music-master ? Yes ; I remember you were great
chums."
" Then you are old acquaintances," said Lady Brockhurst,
feeling herself considerably bored at being thus left out of
the talk and reminiscences, and feeling slightly antagonistic
to Miss Grantham's last whim, the little brown-haired sec-
retary.
" Oh, yes ; quite old acquaintances, as modern lives run.
How long is it since we met in Paris, Miss Grey ? eight or
nine months ? "
" You mentioned De Bragance," said Madame De Beau-
manoir. " Is he not that famous chevalier d'industrie who
married an Englishwoman of fortune the other day ? "
" Exactly," returned the earl ; " and that unfortunate
woman was a great friend of Miss Grey."
" Indeed," said the marquise, with another inexplicable
look at Maggie. Then as Lady Brockhurst was expound-
ing her plans and proposed movements to Lady Dormer
and Miss Grantham, she rose and went to the window.
Maggie, sitting quiet and unemployed, took in the whole
THE WOOING O'T. fr
scene : Miss Grantham, in her long, black dre* __, t,c ting,,
all polite attention, to Lady Brockhurst : the airy grace and
luxurious winter garb, all feathers and fur, of that lady ; Mr.
Longmore, in proper and accurate morning dress, on the
hearth-rug, and Madame De Beaumanoir standing, tall, stately
though pliant, by the window, all brown velvet and sealskin,
with maize-colored ostrich tips in her bonnet, and topaz ear-
rings ; the earl's big, almost burly figure beside her ; the
beautifully decorated room, the flowers, the numerous costly
trifles ; the slight sense of oppression she always experienced
when in the grander apartments and among strangers all
remained stamped on her memory, as certain scenes do get
themselves stamped when they either immediately precede or
succeed great and sudden changes in our internal history.
" Ah !" exclaimed Madame la Marquise ; " What lovely
little ponies quite fit for Cinderella : Yours, I suppose, dear
mademoiselle ? "
" Yes they go remarkably well."
" Ah ! " cried madame again, " I have just one little caprice.
If I might be indulged without interfering with the arrange-
ments of mademoiselle."
" I shall be charmed to gratify you," said Miss Grantham
politely.
" Then, if it will not be too genant, drive me back to South-
am with those delightful little ponies. It will be a little tran-
sit full of pleasure ! Delicious ? "
" My dear marquise, Miss Grantham drives so fast you will
be frightened to death," said the viscountess.
" Du tout ! dit tout ! I trust myself to her utterly."
" I shall be most happy," replied Miss Grantham.
" Then I shall retire myself and my humdrum Britschka,"
said Lady Brockhurst, rising to take leave.
There were many smiling adieux, and Madame De Beau-
manoir was quite enchanting in her playful exultation at hav-
ing the lady of Grantham for a charioteer ; and when Miss
Grantham went to dress, Maggie stole away with a sense of
relief, and left the irresistible marquise to perform to the
gentlemen and Lady Dormer.
But while Madame De Beaumanoir was fascinating her
auditors, her busy brain was plotting how to improve the
ensuing hour or two to the best advantage. The first glance
at Maggie's well-remembered face revealed to her much that
she had considered incomprehensible in Trafford's conduct.
The eagerness with which he had sought her society on all oo
362 THE WOOING O'T.
casions, flattering though it was, could not quite deceive the irv
stinct of a grande passion which Madame la Marquise imagined
she entertained for Trafford. She had always recognized him
as a sort of obstacle to her frequent intercourse with Miss Grant-
ham, and decided in her own mind that he wanted to marry the
heiress, and with curious crochety disposition de tirer le Dib-
ble par la queue so peculiar to Englishmen, he did not dare
to bring his future wife and his chere amie in contact. Not
that it would have distressed madame, for she very soon de-
cided that Trafford did not feel a shade of warm feeling to-
ward his intended. Tant mieux ; that sort of thing was
troublesome and irrational in marriage ; still, however agree-
able and attentive he was to her, the terrible doubt always
fretted her that somehow he did not love her ; ergo, he must
love some one else. She had never forgotten her rencontre
with him in the Bois de Boulogne ; and though her suspicions
had been allayed, they had frequently recurred and helped to
keep alive the engouement for that icy Englishman at which
she herself marveled ; in fact so strong was the " caprice,"
that on hearing from her friend and " pardner " Lady Brock-
hurst, that Trafford was a guest in the close neighborhood of
Southam, she resolved to indulge her curiosity respecting life
in an English country house, and so accompanied the vis-
countess. Now the whole mystery was solved. That traitor
showed her devotion only to blind and mislead her. Here
was the reason that he always in some indefinable manner
interfered with her visits to Grantham ; and bon Dieu ! to
think of his having scruples, when no doubt he quartered
this pensionnaire par exemple" as confidential friend with his
fiancee ! " But hold," thought madame, as all this rushed
through her brain. " I have revenge in my hand, and he
shall not know whence it comes. Now I must win over the fair
' mees.' She dislikes me ; she thinks her cousin loves me.
I must win her, or she will not believe me : and I must not
say too much : these young Englishwomen are at once trap
Men instruites et vralement ingenuet. I must simply sow the
seed which will produce an all-pervading growth ; destroy his
plans and fix her true character on that pale, slender, unform-
ed child who has so riveted his distorted fancy. I am glad
my suspicions brought me here to-day."
By the time Madame De Beaumanoir had arrived at this
sage and meritorious decision, which we need not say was
achieved in rapid flashes of thought, not hammered out in
all the dreary length of words as it is upon this page, Miss
THE WOOING O'T. 363
Granthatn reappeared in outdoor dress. " En avant," said
the marquise, rising. " Adieu, dear Lady Dormer, Au
revoir, mi Lor' , for you will be in Paris soon ; pray persuade
Monsieur Longtemps to come with you ; I shall be your
cicerone myself ; you English gentlemen do not get a true
idea of Paris when you live among English and Americans at
Meurice's."
Miss Grantham whipped up the ponies ; the tiny groom
scrambled in at the risk of his neck, and they were away.
" This is delightful," cried Madame De Beaumanoir, with
such apparent pleasure that Miss Grantham felt mollified to-
wards her. " How well you drive ; I always laughed at Mon-
sieur De Trafford when he said you did all things well, even
to conducting horses but he is right."
" He tells a different story to me," said the heiress ; but
the keen eyes that watched her noticed a pleased expression
steal over her face.
" Bah ! you ought to know your countrymen better than I
do ; and with a man so proud and so situated, he will say all
that he does not think."
" I will leave her to digest that," thought the Frenchwo-
man. " Pray shall I derange you too much to ask if you will
kindly drive to the station ? I must telegraph to Mivarts to
say I have missed the train."
" I thought you stayed on purpose," said Miss Grantham,
rather bluntly.
" You take everything au pied de la kttre in your charming
sincerity," replied Madame De Beaumanoir, laughing. " To
say truth, I had appointed to receive two or three French
friends, who being Legitimists find it convenient, you compre-
hend, to live in London, and I do not like them to think I
merely remained for a caprice."
" Very well, I shall go on to the station." But Miss Grant-
ham did not quite like it, and would have liked it less had
she known that the sole object of the telegram was to keep
Trafford quiet.
"You have known Geoffrey Trafford for a long time " said
Miss Grantham, after waiting in vain for Madame De Beauma-
noir to renew the fascinating subject.
" Yes, yes ; since nearly eight years. He is much
changed ; more thoughtful, melancholy but I soon under-
stood him."
*' I do not think him melancholy. I do not fancy he has
any reason to be melancholy."
364 THE WOOING O'T.
" You do not think so ? Ah ! what can a demoiselle like
you know ? He is but a cadette, though noble, and feels his
hopes are too highly placed."
" No, no, Madame De Beaumanoir," said Miss Grantham,
smiling and blushing, while she touched up the near pony,
which was not pulling fair, " you are quite mistaken. I too
understand my cousin, for I have known him all my life. He
is grave sometimes, but I do not think he has any unhappy
longing for what he does not possess."
" It is just that. He has often described the details of
your early days with a fond persistency. Yes, my dear young
friend, he could not conceal his secret from me. I do not say
he confided to me in so many words that he adores you ; but
he does I know it. I have not seen so much of that great
electric current which sweeps us all with it at one time or an-
other, to doubt his feelings. Poor fellow ! he loves you, and
believes in your indifference."
" I doubt that," thought the heiress in the depth of hei
honest and impetuous heart. " I cannot believe it," she ex-
claimed, blushing vividly, and beginning to think that
Madame De Beaumanoir might possibly be only a disinterested
friend to Geoffrey ; that she might have judged her harshly.
It was hard to turn a deaf ear to the voice that charmed her
so wisely.
" I was so much surprised to find him here," continued
madame, " for I know his erratic habits ; and I think he was
pleased to find a sincere and not injudicious friend to talk to
with a sort of semi-confidence ; but partly from observation,
partly from what I knew of him in Paris, I should say he is
kept back from striving to win your affections by two causes."
They had now reached the railway station, and Miss Grant-
ham, burning with curiosity, was obliged to descend and assist
her charming friend in transmitting what she knew to be a
falsehood. This accomplished, they started again, the ponies'
heads being directed toward Southam. Madame De Beauma-
noir felt she could not spare time to wait for Miss Grantham's
questions, and so resumed. " The two causes to which I al-
luded ought, I believe, for both your sakes to be made known
to you. They are, first, jealousy, and, secondly, an unhappy
entanglement.'
Miss Grantham was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
She could not repress her curiosity, and yet it seemed fright-
fully treacherous to listen. " Pray do not give me Geoff
THE WOOING OT. 365
Tra {lord's secrets," she exclaimed, " I am not anxious to know
anything of them."
" Nay, I am only going to tell the result of my own obser-
vations ; I would not for worlds betray anything. Your kins-
man is jealous of Milor Torchester, who is evidently a ' pre-
tendant ;' but it is not this that is so serious. Let me ask
you a question or two. The young person who is your secre-
tary. She knew Lord Torchester, and also Mr. Trafford, in
Paris ? "
" Yes, both," said Miss Grantham, feeling a sort of dizzy-
sensation.
' And was doubtless placed in your establishment by Mr.
Trafford."
" By Geoffrey ! " in a tone of great astonishment. No, cer-
tainly not. She answered an advertisement. She and Geoff-
rey were thoroughly surprised on meeting she was, at any
rate. What can you mean, Madame De Beaumanoir ? "
" That I imagine, from the degree of intimacy which exist-
ed between them in Paris, there is some entanglement, some
liason. Nay, I mean nothing wrong," cried Madame De
Beaumanoir, a little startled at the fire that flashed from Miss
Grantham's soft blue eyes. "A sentimentality, such as
young women are sometimes betrayed into innocently."
" Geoffrey betray any one ! Geoffrey place any doubtful
person near me ! " cried Miss Grantham, with unconcealed
scorn. " Madame De Beaumanoir, you totally misunderstand
your subject. What reason have you for such suspicion ? I
have a right to inquire into what affects the character of my
household."
Madame la Marquise was rather taken aback by this mode
of receiving her .communication. She had expected agonies
of jealousy, tears, exclamations ; but not this tone.
" You exaggerate to yourself, my dear ! I merely wish to
clear away these barriers of trifles which interfere with the
happiness of a friend so esteemed as Mr. Trafford." ;
" Nevertheless, Madame De Beaumanoir, I should like to
know on what you found your opinion that a liason existed
between my cousin, Mr. Trafford, and my secretary, Miss
Grey?"
" Simply because he avoided more suitable society to drive
about with her in the summer evenings," said the marquise,
viciously.
" Impossible. I cannot believe it."
366 THE WOOING OT.
" Nor would I, had I not myself seen them in the Bois de
Boulogne," returned madame, demurely.
" Seen them ! " echoed Miss Grantham, dismayed.
"Yes; I do not speak unadvisedly. I have seen them.
And this I believe to have been Mr. Trafford's reason for
always raising some difficulty about my going to see you."
As she spoke, the memory of Maggie's indisposition, which
prevented her appearing when Lady Brockhurst and her party
dined at Grantham, crossed the heiress' mind with agonizing
doubts ; and, again, Maggie's unhesitating readiness to meet
the marquise that very morning came to her with a gleam of
hope, and a flash of detestation for the accomplished operator
who was applying the torture so successfully.
" I cannot dispute, madame, what you say you have seen,"
said Miss Grantham, with dignity ; " but I shall make it a
point to inquire into what you assert."
" Then, my dear, you will do very wrong. There is nothing
to justify heroics. I have merely warned you to be on your
guard. Disembarrass yourself of the young pensionnaire as
soon as you can, and meantime keep a watch upon her;
place her somewhere out of the monsieur's reach, or marry
her to some one. I have spoken out of pure friendship to
you and monsieur, your cousin ; also in perfect reliance on
your honor and loyalty not to betray me as your informant."
" But if I cannot name you, how am I to discover anything
or do anything ? "
" Mademoiselle, I have said enough to enable you to trace
all things. I do not for a moment suppose that monsieur's
momentary engouement for your young friend has not passed
away. His grande passion is for yourself. Nevertheless, their
meeting is not without danger. For myself, I have risked
something in speaking at all. I demand your assurance that
my name be not mentioned."
Madame De Beaumanoir spoke with so much dignity, such
an assumption of injured merit, that before Miss Grantham
could collect her thoughts she had promised profound secrecy.
' ' And so our charming drive is over," said Madame De
Beaumanoir, as they passed through the gates of Southam.
" Ah, mademoiselle, I shall often think of you and trust to
see you in dear Paris. Do not trouble yourself about the
trifles that ruffle the surface of your life at present. Be firm ;
be true to yourself, and they will vanish. Adieu, dear and
beautiful friend."
And as Madame la Marquise stood on the upper step of
THE WOOING O'T. 367
the entrance to the Southam House, with an expression of
tender benevolence on her speaking countenace, she blew a
kiss to the vexed, stupefied Miss Grantham with an airy and
ineffable grace.
The white ponies had been driven at top speed from the
Castleford Station to Southam, and their mistress allowed
them to proceed home more leisurely. Never in the course
of her prosperous existence had the heiress of Grantham felt
so restless, so irritated, so injured. Against Trafford she felt
but small indignation ; but that little Miss Grey should have
received her confidence respecting him, have had the audaci-
ty to suggest some attachment or engagement, have had the
duplicity to look appealingly in her face, and ask her to love
her, when And here instinctive recognition came to
Miss Grantham's aid. She could not she did not believe
Maggie Grey could be guilty of such duplicity. Why not
trust her rather than that rusee Frenchwoman ? " But how
am I to find her out ? How am I to ask ? " thought the un-
happy girl. " I have promised that horrid woman not to men-
tion her name, and I must not break my word. I will see
what I can get out of Torchester. He is an honest fellow.
I am sure he will not palter with the truth for any considera-
tion. I wish Geoff Trafford was at the world's end before he
came back to make me miserable."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE week which followed the departure of Trafford and
Madame De Beaumanoir was equally unpleasant to Miss
Grantham and to her secretary. At times Maggie's looks
and tones and unconscious words, all sorts of trifles, were
proofs strong as " Holy Writ " to Miss Grantham that she
and Trafford " understood " each other, and were His in
some mysterious way. For a mesalliance she thought
Trafford was too proud ; the possibility of anything worse
did not occur to her. Again the strong instinctive sympathy
between them would assert itself and for an hour or two she
would think there was not a truer-hearted, purer minded, girl
in the world than Maggie Grey, and that if Madame De
Beaumanoir's story was true, no one was to blame but
Geoffrey.
Unhappily, although she flattered herself that her manner
368 THE WOOING O'T.
was perfectly even and unaltered, Maggie understood her to
well not to perceive every variation of feeling and grew quite
nervous and miserable in consequence. In vain she strove
to think that Miss Grantham's depression and uncertainty of
temper was unconnected with herself. A keen innate con-
viction pressed in upon her that, for some unknown cause,
from the moment she had, as she thought, secured her pat-
roness' affectionate friendship, the moderate amount of
favoritism she had previously enjoyed was withdrawn, for
Maggie counted the change from the Sunday Miss Grantham
had taken a tete-a-tete walk with Mr. Trafford. It was
strange, too, that she had never mentioned the magic name
since that sudden outbreak of confidence.
Maggie exhausted herself in conjectures ; she lay awake
all night nearly, and at last determined not to be lost in a
Slough of Despond for want of an effort to get on terra firma,
and that on the first opportunity she would ask Miss Grant-
ham what it was that intervened between them.
Mr. Bolton was now so much better, that he announced
his resolution to return to his oar on the following Monday.
Maggie was surprised how much she regretted this ; for,
besides his having softened and unbent to her in a marvelous
degree, he was a legitimate source of occupation without
which she would feel herself quite a supernumerary.
The remains of the Christmas party were to disperse on
Saturday except Mr. Bolton. Grantham Longmore, being
under orders from his mother not to leave Lord Torchester a
" fair field, " had waited to follow his lordship's lead ; they
were, therefore, to start together for Mount Trafford, where a
large shooting party was to assemble next week.
" I suppose you will be quite pleased, Torchester, to get
away from this slow place " said Miss Grantham, the evening
before his departure. Lady Dormer's whist was made up and
the cousins found themselves tete-a-tete. Miss Grantham was
pretending to sketch a design for a bracket, but restless, and
longing to quarrel with some one.
" No, I shall not," said the earl, bluntly,, laying down a
newspaper and coming to her side. " Why should I ? "
" Because you will have good sport and congenial society
at Mount Trafford, and you had neither here. Geoff Traf-
ford says the Grantham preserves are not preserved. "
" They might be better; but the hunting has been first-rate,
and as to the congenial society, Margaret, you know tolerably
well the only fault is, I did not get enough of it. "
THE WOOING O'T. 369
" Whose ? " said Miss Grantham, opening her eyes with an
expression of wondering simplicity. " Lady Brockhurst's, or
Madame De Beaumanoir ? "
" You can be the most provoking, puzzling, ridiculous girl
that ever lived. Madame De Beaumanoir ! As if I would
look at her, or she at me, while Geoff was in the way ! "
" Come, do not be scandalous. You know they were
friends since before the flood ! " Miss Grantham spoke
lightly, though the earl's words sent a thrill of pain through
her nerves.
" Of course I do. He nearly lived at the Hdtel Pontigny
when we were in Paris last spring."
" I thought he was constantly with that Madame De
something Mrs. Berry what do you call her ? or rather
Miss Grey, who must have been the most companionable of
the two.
Though Miss Grantham spoke sweetly and gayly and Tor-
chester was not a man of rapid perceptions, he espied danger
in the tendency of his cousin's remark. He looked toward
the subject of this possible jealousy, who was at the moment
explaining a trick to Mr. Longmore, with the sweet, bright,
intelligent smile that had once charmed him so much, and
feeling how unjust any suspicion of undue intimacy was both
to Trafford (of whose visits he knew little or nothing) and
the gentle girl to whom such an imputation might be most
injurious, he hastened to reply :
" Mrs. Berry Miss Grey oh, no ! He only went there
with me. I was the habitut. I think it bored Geoffrey to go
there. We all liked Miss Grey, you know ; she was so quiet,
and gentle, so unlike the rest."
" And what on earth took you there, Tor ? " asked Miss
Grantham, greatly relieved by the earl's tone.
" De Bragance took me there. "
" Do you mean to say that you associated with that dread-
ful man, who behaved so infamously to Miss Grey's friend ? "
* He was a very well-bred fellow, and exceedingly good-
looking ; you would have been delighted with him. "
" I am sure I should not. And what did you do at these
soire'es ? "
" Oh, nothing particular played cards sometimes."
" And I have no doubt you lost your money. I hope you
are not a gambler, Tor ? " This random shot told.
" I am not, indeed ; and you don't care a straw what I am.'*
" I do, you ungrateful boy ! I look on you as a brother."
370 THE WOOING O'T.
" Well, I do not look on you as a sister."
" Yes you do you always did. And so you, not Gcofi\
were Miss Grey's ally in Paris ? "
" Yes," said the earl, dimly conscious of spiting Trafford,
" he was always philosophizing with the marquise till he got
tired of the whole concern."
" So you left the Berry party in Paris ? "
" Yes. I think Geoffrey mentioned having gone to one of
the receptions after 1 left."
Miss Grantham dared not question more : she just threw
out a leader :
" I suppose Geoffrey was very pleased to meet Madame De
Beaumanoir again ? "
" He never said so, but it looked like it. Now, Margaret,
what are you going to do ? I mean before you come up to
town. Have you quite made up your mind not to go to
Llanelwy ? "
" I have not thought about it ; but I must answer Lady
Hillshire's letter to-morrow. I think I shall go. Who is to
be there ? "
" I am, which ought to be enough. St. Lawrence, and
Lady Brockhurst, and "Sir Hugh Erskine, and Geoffrey Traf-
ford. He said he would go, and some more people I forget.
Do come ; you will be moped to death here."
" Fretting for you, eh ? Well, I dare say I shall ; and after
all, we are closely related it is not like going to a strange
house. I think I will go, Tor."
" Do. The more you know the marquis the more you'll
like him. He is a capital fellow, and a first-rate shot."
" What a recommendation ! But he is so ugly. Are you
going to have him at Mount Trafford ? "
" Yes ; only till the twenty-seventh or twenty-eighth, when
the Llanelwy party assemble."
Grantham seemed very huge and empty when they were all
gone. Mr. Bolton bade Maggie quite a tender farewell, some-
what to Miss Grantham's amusement :
" You have really helped me over what might otherwise
have been very uncomfortable hours," he said to her. " When
you have written that novel you have on hand and Miss
Grantham has no more work for you, pray "ome to me. I
begin to think I must want a secretary."
" I shall keep you to your word," returned ivxaggie, smiling,
and thinking she might do worse than be companion to th/j
surly, gouty old man.
THE WOOING O'T. 371
M Come, come, no tampering with my adherents ! " cried
Miss Grantham, more genially than she had spoken for some
time. " At present Miss Grey is mine, and she had better be
off with an old love before she is on with a new."
After exchanging very cordial adieux with his hostess and a
few private parting words, Mr. Bolton was packed in furs and
railway rugs, and sped away to town.
" Come into the study with me," said Miss Grantham to
Maggie, who, feeling that the watched-for opportunity was
come, could scarcely nerve herself to the task of approaching
so difficult a subject as Miss Grantham's variability of manner,
and nervously alive to every look and tone, let the minutes
slip by, not knowing how to begin. After opening and look-
ing at a pile of circulars, petitions, applications, etc., Miss
Grantham said, rather abruptly, " I am going into Wales, to
the Marchioness of Hillshire's, for a week or ten days, about
the twenty-ninth, and Aunt Dormer wants to go to town to
see the dentist or the doctor. Would you like to go with her,
and see your friends ? I do not think I shall return here ; it
is so doleful and grim, so "
" Pray do not say I am to leave you," interrupted Maggie,
unable to control her fears.
" No, I do not," said Miss Grantham, smiling, and looking
sharply at her companion. " You would not like, th^n, to
go?"
" Certainly not, unless I thought you did not want me, or
that I had displeased you ; and I have feared often lately
that I had. You are changed to me."
" I do not think I am."
" Yes, dear Miss Grantham. There is not a tone of your
voice or a glance of your eye that does not say so at times.
Do tell me why ? I know I do not deserve your displeasure."
" My dear Miss Grey, I do not intend to show any differ-
ence ; but people are not always in the same spirits, or "
The heiress paused, struck with the pained, sad expression
that came over Maggie's face, as she felt that her earnest
effort after a right understanding was being brushed aside,
and a sense of the singular loneliness and dependence of her
little secretary brought a sudden wave of kindliness over her
heart.
" There then," she exclaimed, ' if you will have it, I am a
little vexed with you for a bit of imprudence, so unlike youx
usual modest quiet with its dash of pride."
" What can I have done ? " asked Maggie, bewildered.
372 THE WOOIA'G O'T.
11 You must have known it did not look well to drive about
Paris alone with Mr. Trafford," continued Miss Grantham.
" But I did not," cried Maggie.
" Not ! " echoed Miss Grantham. " Not once ? "
" Yes, once," replied Maggie, turning pale at the idea of
this sacred secret having been revealed to the lady of Grant-
ham, and then seeing her way clearly went on : "I will tell
you all about it. Mrs. Berry was away at Fontainebleau, and
I had gone out, intending to spend the evening with some
friends of hers. They were not at home, and when I return-
ed I found the servant had taken advantage of my absence
to go out too ; had locked the rooms and taken the keys. I
happened to meet Mr. Trafford and told him my position, for
I was quite distressed. He very kindly proposed to drive
me as far as the Lake, in the Bois de Boulogne. I did not
hesitate to go with him. A drive was a rare treat to me, and
when I returned the servant had come back."
" And you never went anywhere else with him ? "
"Never never," and Maggie looked straight into Misa
Grantham's eyes.
" I am sure you thought no harm," said she kindly ; " But
Mr. Trafford ought to have known better."
" Surely there was nothing wrong in so very simple a pro-
ceeding ? "
" No nothing wrong, but imprudent ; and it was rather
curious Geoffrey taking that trouble. Then you see, a man
of his position giving up his engagements for of course he
had engagements yon say it was evening ? to drive with
you, had rather a queer look. He ought to have known
better."
" I quite understand the great difference between us," said
Maggie, the color coming back to her cheeks with a crimson
flush as the iron entered deep into her soul, while Miss Grant-
ham calmly pointed out that any attention from Trafford
Trafford who understood her as no one else did, little as he
spoke to her, must be looked upon as doubtful, if not degrad-
ing. '' I quite understand the difference, and it was because
Mr. Trafford always spoke to me like a kindly friend, and
never deviated into any other tone, that I went with him so
unhesitatingly."
" Then," cried Miss Grantham, her faith in Maggie return-
ing, " he never made love to you ? "
" He never presumed to do so," cried Maggie, the native
fire and pride latent in her soft nature lighting up her eyes :
THE WOOING O'T. 373
** and, indeed," returning to her ordinary manner, " I am sure
he never was inclined."
"You are a proud puss," returned the other; "to talk of
Geoffrey Trafford presuming to make love to you! "
" Yes, Miss Grantham, I have my own pride which you
can afford to leave me ; for the same superiority, which makes
it almost impossible for a man of his rank to think of a girl
like me as a wife, entitles me to resent the faintest approach
to love-making though I need not reject kindly civility,
frankly offered.
" Well said ! You are what Torchester would call a brick !
You have quite removed my faint disapprobation. I see you
can be trusted. But " thought the heiress, " I do not quite
understand Master Geoff. Now" she continued aloud
" put all this out of your head. I am quite glad you forced
me to explain myself. I could not bear to feel a shade of
discomfort toward you. Now, tell me, did you ever see Ma-
dame De Beaumanoir in Paris ? "
" Yes, once, at a great ball to which Mrs. Berry took me.
Mr. Trafford was with her, and I asked Lord Torchester who
she was but he did not observe her so I was not sure, who
she was, until I saw her last week."
Miss Grantham mused awhile in silence, she could not
quite understand it ; but at all events, she would put full
faith in Maggie Grey, and as for Madame De Beaumanofo,
she was a mischief-maker pur et simple who only wanted to
make bad blood between her and Geoffrey, because she was
in love with him herself odious, unprincipled creature!'
"Then, I suppose, after rescuing Torchester from Mrs.
Berry's gambling friends, Mr. Trafford stayed on in Paris to
enjoy the society of Madame la Marquise ? "
" Perhaps so. He certainly did not leave with Lord Tor-
chester."
" Well, enough of all this give me my portfolio. While
you answer those letters I will try and sketch Madame De
Beaumanoir, and leave some work for you when I go to
Llanelwy ; by the by,, I was going to say, when we digressed
into this explanation, that if you Uke to go up to town with
Lady Dormer, and see your friends, you may as well do so,
for I think I shall go somewhere till after Easter ; it would be
intolerable to stay here."
So it was settled after a little more discussion, that Mag-
gie should accompany Lady Dormer to town, and if conven-
ient, pay a visit to her uncle's family. While in the mean-
374 THE WOOING OT.
time, Miss Grantham should decide where she would pass the
weeks which intervened before Easter, and arrangements
should be made for all to meet after she had paid her visit to
the Hillshires. Thus, confidence and amity being restored,
the days passed over happily enough, and Miss Grantham,
with Maggie's assistance, devised sundry toilettes suited to
mourning, and yet striking in effect.
" You know," said Miss Grantham, as Maggie arranged the
music the same evening, in order to have a good practice, " I
want to look passable, for Sir Hugh Erskine is to be at
Llanelwy."
" Is he ? and do you know him ? Who is he ? "
" Oh ! he is everything irresistible the greatest judge of
beauty, the most eccentric, fastidious man in England, and
awfully fast."
" What a formidable personage ! "
" Yes. I should rather like to have the rejecting of such a
paladin."
"Perhaps he might persuade you to accept him- -id I
should think he would make a very undesirnble husband. '
"My dear, you are a mentor and a secretary all in one!
No, not the smallest chance of my saying yes, to any one who
will ask me."
When Maggie was alone, and at the convenient period
when the candle is out, and conscience, rousing herself for a
hunt, uncarts some bogie of " ten tynes," to chase through
all the dells and glades of memory and sell-accusation, the
review of her conversation with Miss Grantham was anything
but satisfactory.
First, although she had stated nothing but the truth, it was
anything but the whole truth. If Miss Grantham thought
that to drive alone with Mr. Trafford was outrage on pro-
priety, what would she say to his visits ? What would she
say to that delightful tete-a-tete dinner, which Maggie could
not bring herself to regret ? But the more she reflected on
her patroness' remarks the more puzzled she felt by Trafford's
conduct As Miss Grantham said, his taking even so much
trouble on her account was curious, and to give up an en-
gagement for her, as it was probable he had, was quite extra-
ordinary. It was very easy to say, " Put it all out of your
head," but such a subject would not be banished, and the
great mystery of how Miss Grantham came to know of her
reprehensible expedition, this was the most painful bit of all.
After profound cogitations, she could only conclude that in
THE WOOL\ r & 0"T, 375
the course of the confidential walk and talk which she had
enjoyed with Mr. Trafford on the day before he left, he
must have inadvertently mentioned it. That he did so
intentionally she never for a moment believed. That he
should have so far forgotten his interest in herself to do so,
was bitter enough ; and with the proneness to self-torture
which is so common in sensitive minds, she recalled the
delicate but unmistakable warning he had given her, to avoid
letting even Rosalie know where she had been, on that
memorable evening, and now, it was of so little importance,
that he could mention it casually ; for he must have done so
either to Miss Grantham or Madame De Beaumanoir, and
this latter would have been even a more unpardonable offence
in her eyes ! Whatever he might once have thought of her,
she could not now possess the least bit of sacredness in his
eyes ; but the exact means by which Miss Grantham had
arrived at that disturbing morsel of information must remain
a mystery. She could never approach the subject again.
Pride, self-respect, regard to her kind employer, all impera-
tively demanded that she should "put it out of her hgad,"
and she determined to do s^. Trafford could never be quite
the same Trafford to her again, now that the secret between
them was no longer a secret.
The magnitude of Miss Grantham 's or rather her maid's
and milliner's preparations for a visit of ten days somewhat
surprised our inexperienced heroine, and she said as much to
her indulgent patroness.
" My dear girl, you would not have me appear every clay in
the same dress ? And then, you know, it is my debut as
' Miss Grantham,' in anything like general society. Besides,
I have to complete the conquest of olittle Alf St. Lawrence
and utterly subjugate Sir Hugh Erskine, were it only to show
Geoff Trafford that other men have eyes if he has not. I
wonder has he gone to Paris with Madame De Beaumanoir I
I have heard nothing from him, nor has Torchester, who
writes that Geoff has not yet turned up at Mount Trafford."
" Oh ! I do not suppose he could have gone to Paris."
" Heaven knows ; I shall never calculate on Geoff's
proceedings again," returned Miss Grantham, carelessly ; but
her words had a painful significance to Maggie, who rejoiced
that she was going among new scenes and new people, and
f hus the current of her thoughts would doubtless be diverted
into different channels.
Maggie never knew the luxury of traveling en grand*
376 THE WOOING (?T.
dame until she accompanied Lady Dormer to London. The
civility of station-masters, the delicate attention of guards,
extended to the neighborhood of the great metropolis. And
then the comfort of stepping at once into a cosey brougham,
and driving straight away to one's dressing-room and dinner,
instead of shivering and struggling for luggage amid " the
crushing crowd, doomed to inflict or bear," which penance
may be safely left to the vicarious offices of intelligent
servants. Wealth has its merits, certes !
The great house in P Square was but very partially
unhollanded for the reception of Lady Dormer and the
secretary. It looked rather gruesome, Maggie thought, as
they drove up. However, the smallest of the three drawing-
rooms had been uncovered for their occupation, and here a
bright fire and a table laid for dinner looked cheerful and
habitable.
" I am so tired, my dear, said Lady Dormer, to whom
exertion of any kind was overwhelming ; " though I should
have been much worse if you had not been with me." Mag-
gie's native kindness and bright alacrity made her a great
favorite with indolent, elderly people. " Well, Johnson," to
the under butler who was in attendance, " have you all the
luggage right, and did you get my fur cloak ? "
" Yes, my lady. I was just in time to get it, before the
carriages were moved off."
" Any letters ? "
" Yes, my lady," presenting a salver laden with cards and
notes.
" Just put them here on the writing-table, and pray let us
have dinner. Miss Grey and I are quite exhausted."
" Take my arm to your room. Lady Dormer."
" Thank you, my dear. I think there is a letter here for
you ; we will see after dinner."
Miss Grey was quite willing to wait till after dinner for
her letter or letters. She had written to her cousin to let
him know she was to be in town for a week, and also to Mrs.
Berry (as she still wished to be called) in case she might be
there too. These were her only correspondents.
" Dear me ! that is quite fortunate," exclaimed Lady
Dormer, after dinner, looking up from the note she was
reading. " Mr. Flummery can see me to-morrow at twelve.
That is the advantage of coming before the rush of the
eason ; a month or two later and I should have had to wait
weeks. Don't you think it would be a good plan, Miss Grey,
THE WOOING OT. 377
to have your teeth looked at also now that Flummery is not
so busy ? "
" I don't think they want any looking at, thank you," said
Maggie, smiling.
" It is wiser to have them attended to before they want it."
" I have a note here from my cousin, Mr. Grey. He
proposes coming to see me to-morrow, between ten and
eleven, and I wish you would be so good as to tell Johnson
to show him into some other room ; it will disturb you if he
comes in here."
" Oh ! the young man who came down to Grandiam ? No,
my dear, you will not disturb me. I shall not leave my room
until I go to Flummery, at twelve, or a quarter before. You
must be content to breakfast alone to-morrow. I don't
think there is another room open : by the bye, I should be so
much obliged to you, Miss Grey, if you would write to Lady
Torchester for me ; here is her note. Say I am so exhausted
by the journey, I really could not write ; that I am fortunate
in having an appointment with Flummery to-morrow, and
when I know if he wants to see me again, I will fix a day to
go and stay widi her ; and my kind love."
" Very well, Lady Dormer."
" Just a few lines will do," said her ladyship, and settled
herself for a refreshing nap before tea. Maggie set forth her
writing materials, and had hardly commenced, when Lady
Dormer opened her eyes, and said sleepily, " Will you be so
good as to mention that the Rector's Persian cat has four
kittens, if she would like one ? "
"Yes, Lady Dormer."
" Two of them are white, one gray, and one black or two
black and one white, I really am not sure but perhaps I
might remember by the time I see her," and Lady Dormer
was wrapped in sleep before the last words were quite
complete.
Maggie wrote on, smiling at the oddity of thus writing to
the mother of the man who had done his best to induce
her to marry him. " I am very fortunate, however," she
thought, " to find so many to be kind and pleasant with me ;
but after all it is a lonely lot, and at best only a tolerable
desolation. I wish I could love Cousin John, there seems to
lie my only chance of a home ! but I cannot, and that's the
end of it. I wish he was not so imperious and provoking."
"The sedate and correct Johnson was removing Miss
Grey's breakfast the next morning when Cousin Tohn arrived.
378 THE WOOING OT.
" Well, Maggie," he cried, taking both her hands, " this it
luck ! I never thought I should see you so soon again let's
have a look at you," taking her coolly by the shoulder and
turning her round to the window. " Why, you don't look
half the girl you were a month ago. You're pale and down*
looking. What have you been doing with yourself, little Mag ? "
There was genuine hearty kindness in his tone, and Maggie's
eyes and voice responded to it instantly.
" Oh ! nothing, dear cousin. I have been well and happy,
and I am very glad to see you." John seized that favorable
moment for an abrupt kiss. " No you ain't, you little hum-
bug ; you think more of the fine filagree gentlemen you saw
at Grantham."
" Do not begin to be disagreeable the moment we meet."
" All right. And now what are you going to do in town ? "
" Nothing." She proceeded to explain Miss Grantham's
plans, and her consequent freedom.
" Lord ! " cried John, " isn't she content with that fine
place of her's that she must go into some one else's house ? "
" It does seem strange."
" And this is Miss Grantham's own, too," said John look-
ing round.
" Yes, all her own."
" Who is she going to marry ? I wonder she hasn't picket
up a husband before now."
What a pity you have not an opportunity to try your
chance," said Maggie, laughing.
" Now don't you be jealous," said John, tenderly,
" Well, John," cried Maggie, still laughing, "'l do think
you the most conceited man that ever lived. I am sure you
believe you have only to ask Miss Grantham and she would
accept you. 1 '
" Come, now, that's a little too strong ; but she might do
worse."
" It is quite enviable," added Maggie, reflectively. " Tell
me, do you think it would be convenient to my uncle and
Mrs. Grey if I were to pay them a visit for a few days ? I
am free just now, and I do not know when I may be so
again."
"Convenient! Yes, of course it is it must be," cried
John, delighted. " You are a little trump, Mag, after all to
stick to the old folks. Now, look here. I tell you I did feel
a little uncomfortable about the tall thin chap that sticks on
so well to his horse. I didn't like the way he questioned you.
THE WOOING OT. 379
and looked at me, the day we met him in the Park. I can't
tell why," continued John, puzzled by the strong unaccount-
able instinct which pressed upon him a dim feeling of danger ;
" but I did not like him. I suppose you were as thick as
thieves down there ? " a jerk of the thumb in the supposed
direction of Grantham.
Maggie, though infinitely provoked with John, and still
more with herself for blushing so causelessly, could not help
laughing at her cousin's phraseology, and for pure mischief
said, " I spent nearly every evening very agreeably in his
society."
" The deuce you did ! Now, Mag, remember, I warned
you "
" Don't be ridiculous," interrupted Maggie, indignantly.
" I need no warning. If you could only see a little of life at
Grantham you would understand the impossibility of Mr.
Trafford showing me anything but the mere civility due to a
lady introduced by his hostess. Do not offend me by such
miserable suspicions, or I shall send you away."
" By Jove, Mag. you have learned to do the grand lady In
fine style ! Never mind, you have the right spirit. Now
about going to see the governor. You write, and I'll write.
We will go down on Saturday. I can get a bed at the inn,
but I must come up on Monday and I'll bring you back. By
!he way, Fred Banks is down there. I have not had time to
write to you since ; " and John proceeded to recount the cap-
ital arrangement he had made for a partnership between the
young medical student and his father, etc., etc., to all which
Maggie did " seriously incline," truly interested in the welfare
of her kind oppressed uncle. " And, John," she asked hesi-
tatingly, " is Mrs. Grey more cheerful and pleasant with
uncle than she used to be ? "
" She does not snub him quite so much, if that's what you
mean. I have made her feel he has a son at his back as
won't stand that. Wasn't she a tartar to you and me ? We
were always in the same boat, eh, Mag ? Still it was hard to
a business-like woman, as she is, to see her money melting
away, and a niece of her husband quartered on her."
" No doubt, no doubt, I must have been a sad burden,"
jsaid Maggie, with a swelling heart.
" What nonsense," he returned, " neither the governor nor
I thought so."
Maggie was silent. She wanted John to go. She felt half
afraid of a prolonged interview leading to some painful expla-
380 THE WOOING O'T.
nation ; and rough and disagreeable as John was, she could
not bear the idea of causing him annoyance. He must ever
be her best and oldest friend of by-gone times. Nothing
could efface the debt of gratitude she owed him.
" If you are going to the City, John, perhaps you will walk
with me to Oxford Street. I have some shopping to do."
" Of course I will. I ought to have gone before, but "
with an indescribable wink " it's not so easy to get
away."
" Well, do not let me keep you now if you are pressed for
time."
" Go, put on your bonnet," was John's reply.
" Oh, I have worked you such a smart pair of slippers. I
will bring them down."
" Well, you are a little brick, and no mistake. You did
not quite forget me all those agreeable evenings."
" I should be very ungrateful if I ever forgot you, dear
cousin."
" Look here, Mag, I am going out sooner than I intended.
I have settled everything very satisfactorily, and I think I'll
be off in April early in April."
" Indeed," said Maggie, looking down, as she thought
whatever John might be, she had no other friend in the
world like him. Oh ! if she could only love him. " I sup-
pose I ought to be glad of your success, and I am ; but I
shall be very sorry when you are gone."
" Shall you, though, little Mag ? " cried John, with a flash
of pleasure beaming out in his eyes and over his face, red
hair and all. " Never mind, I am not gone yet, and we'll
see." He was determined not to speak till what he consid-
ered the right time ; but he thought it a suitable moment for
an embrace, which Maggie deftly eluded. " There, John,
you know I hate to be hugged."
" Faith, I ought, by this time," growled John, much disap-
pointed.
When Maggie joined him with her bonnet on, not even the
peace-offering she bore, a pair of delicately worked slippers,
brown and yellow leaves on a crimson ground, sufficed to
chase the cloud from his brow. He looked on moodily while
she put away her little workbox, and rang to let the grave
Johnson know she was going out.
" Shall you be in to dinner, 'm ? " asked that official,
"Yes, certainly."
" Lady Dormer ordered it at six ''
THE WOOING &T. 381
" Very well, Johnson."
" I suppose that fine friend of yours, Mr. Trafford,
will dine here," grumbled John, as the servant left the
room.
" No, I should think not," returned Maggie, " I do not
think he is in London."
" Yes, he is, though. I went to the Reform Club yester-
day to see one of our big colonists on business, and I saw
him standing on the -steps of the ' Travelers,' talking to a
couple of swells like himself."
" Perhaps he is there. I know nothing about him."
When Maggie had coaxed Cousin John into a better tem-
per, and bid him good-bye, promising to start for Market
Ditton on Saturday by the 12.30 train if she heard favorably
from Mrs. Grey, she proceeded to perform her shopping, and
then, feeling curiously fearful of returning to P Square,
she took a long solitary walk along Hyde Park and around
Kensington Gardens, the old familiar locality where, in the
bitter by-gone days she had so often walked in at-
tendance on Jemima and Bell. How well she remem-
bered every inch of ground, and the hopeless sadness
and depression with which she used to grope around
her, in thought, for some way of escape, and found
none ! Then she was the bond slave of that fearful ty-
rant, her aunt, to whose minute and degrading despotism
she could not look back without a shudder. Now she was
the companion, nay, the friend, of the heiress of Grantham ;
raised infinitely above her original lowly state, and not likely
again to sink into it, and that, too, through no exertion or
special merit of her own. How thankful and happy she
ought to be ! And was she not ? Yes, of course she was ;
if she still felt a painful, unsatisfied craving in her heart, it
was only a reprehensible discontent, that she must resist and
subdue. She must have faith in the future, and strive to have
her sources of happiness in her own heart and mind grand
resolutions, if they could be fulfilled ; but wholesome as an
astringent, even in an attempt at fulfilment So, strength-
ened by her self-communing, Maggie made her way back to
P Square, and found that Lady Dormer had only just
returned.
" Mr. Trafford called shortly after you went out, 'm," said
Johnson, as Maggie passed through the hall. " He asked
how long you and her ladyship would be in town. I told him
you had just gone out with Mr, Grey."
382 THE WOOING OT.
Maggie told herself it was well she had not seen him. She
could not forget the sense of betrayal she had felt ; and then
he was evidently a source of jealousy to Miss Grantham, to
whose friendship she looked for whatever brightness her fu-
ture might possess. All the weakness and folly which eddied
around his idea must be swept away and utterly re-
nounced.
Lady Dormer was highly pleased with her interview ; th&
adroit Flummery only wanted to see her to-morrow, so sh
could go down to dear Lady Torchester on Saturday.
" Mr. Trafford was here to-day. I thought he was with
Lord Torchester. Pray write to Miss Grantham to-morrow
and say Johnson shall go down to Ryed on Saturday about a
house."
The evening passed rather nervously to Maggie, though she
managed to discover an old " Quarterly " with several inter-
esting articles in it ; still she could not help a sort of dread,
not all fear, lest Mr. Trafford might come in to ask about
Miss Grantham ; but he did not.
The next morning brought a long list of divers and sundry
articles which Maggie was to procure, and which two days'
stay at Llanelwy proved to be indispensable ; but they were
to be despatched that evening without fail. " The party,"
Miss Grantham wrote, " was most amusing, not too large,
and there was a talk of theatricals. Sir Hugh Erskine was
quite an orthodox hero handsome, dark, taciturn, and did
the ' inscrutable ' remarkably well. Nevertheless he unbends
a little to me. Torchester is expected on Saturday, and Mr.
Trafford at the same time, if he has not gone to Paris. Lady
B. does not come till next week. I miss you in many ways.
Pray amuse yourself if you can. You were certainly triste
You must turn your cousin to some account in London ; no
doubt he is at your service," etc.
Maggie was very glad to have something to do, so set
about her commissions with great good-will, and after an ar-
duous day's work managed to despatch a tolerably sized box
and a long letter in time for the evening mail. Maggie quite
enjoyed writing to her admired friend. She told her of her
own small plans, assured her that she would be again in Lon-
don on Tuesday at furthest to await her commands, gave all
and sundry the messages delivered to her by Lady Dormer
" between sleeping and waking," the changing of her plate
at dinner, and the trying on of sundry caps and bonnets, for
even Lady Dormer had her vanities. Finally she put a con?
THE WOOING OT. 3^
eluding paragraph : " Mr. Trafford is not gone to Paris. I
saw his card here yesterday, and I think Lady Dormer ex-
pects to meet him at the ' Beeches ' on Saturday."
That evening there was a telegram from the heiress, rt Do
not let Johnson go to Ryed, or take any house, till you hear
from me."
And so, in total uncertainty as to future plans, Maggie
started next day to meet Cousin John, having had a very
cordial invitation from Uncle Grey himself.
She was much relieved, and the least bit disappointed, that
Mr. Trafford had not appeared, for she always hoped he
would in some way clear himself from her suspicions of
treachery the last crime of which she could have thought
him guilty.
CHAPTER XXIX.
IT was a still gray morning when Maggie reached the sta-
tion. Cousin John was in waiting to receive her as she drove
up, and presented a gay and gorgeous appearance.
" You are just in time. I began to quake for you. No
more luggage ? Come along, then. I will get your ticket."
And she was quickly whirled into a second-class carriage.
It was too crowded to permit of much conversation ; but John
contrived among the clatter of the train and a noisy political
discussion between a stout, farmer-looking man and a better-
class mechanic, to say, "What do you think ? they have got
Polly Banks down there," in somewhat a triumphal tone.
"Indeed!" said Maggie. "I suppose she is a friend of
your sister's ? "
" Perhaps. It's the missus that's so sweet upon her."
Very little more passed between them during the three
hours' journey through a not very interesting country, and
Maggie felt both dull and tired when they reached their des-
tination, for John had joined the political discussion and
managed to turn it on colonial affairs, on which he held forth
with an air of conviction and authority, or pertinacity and
strength of lungs, that overpowered his listeners, and made
Maggie's head ache.
Ditton Market was a prosperous little place. The estab-
lishment to which Mr. Grey had succeeded had been very well
known for miles round, and Fred Banks had managed through
384 THE WOO WC O'T. ^
a friend connected with the press, i.e., The Ditton Market
Herald and the Farmer's Chronicle, to spread a report that the
incoming tenant was a London pharmaceutist of high attain-
ments and metropolitan fame, obliged to seek a more salu
brious dwelling. The change proved very beneficial in every
respect, and poor Mr. Grey seemed quite revived by the im
provement of his prospects and his wife's manners.
" We are a little behind time," said Cousin John, handing
Maggie into the Royal Hotel omnibus which met the trains.
"Four o'clock I " It will be five before we get a mouthful.
I am so sharp set, Mag, I could eat you and a nice tender
bit you'd be, Mag."
" Oh ! I can be very tough if I like," she returned, good-
humoredly.
" By George, it was a great idea having Polly Banks down !
Now, you will see she is not to be sneezed at, Miss Maggie."
" Did I ever say anything on the subject ? "
" Now, then " to the conductor " how far round are you
going before you put us down at the chemist's ? "
"All right, sir. We allus go to the Royal first."
At last they arrived. A large old but modernized house,
imposing front, lots of big jars, and a huge gold pestle and
mortar over the door, to which Bell and Jemima had strongly
objected, but in vain. John would stand no nonsense ; the
country people had always been used to it, he said, and ten
to one they would think the new man would poison them if
he took it down.
The house, a roomy rambling edifice, occupied a corner at
the further end of High street from the railway station, and
so had the advantage of a private entrance through an old-
fashioned garden, and on that side looked as prosperous and
cared for as whitewash and green paint could make it.
"This is quite charming," cried Maggie, as descending
from the " bus," John rang the bell, while he eyed the place
critically with the air of one who had a vested right in the
concern. " What a delightful change from Beverly Street !
I am so glad to think my dear uncle has such a home."
" And it don't pay so bad," said John, complacently. " I
think they must be all asleep," and he gave a second power-
ful pull to the bell ; whereupon the smart green door was
flung violently wide open, and forth rushed Bell and Jemima
in bright red tartan dresses, followed by a tall abundant-look-
ing young lady in blue French merino, with piles of black
ringlets fastened back to a thick roll of hair, dominated by a
THE WOOING O'T. 385
scarlet tuft of ribbon, of which smaller bows adornd her throat
and wrists, and would no doubt have encircled her slight
waist (which, wiih the exuberance above and below, sug-
gested unpleasant ideas of breaking in two) had waistbands
been in fashion.
' My goodness ! how late you are ! " cried Bell.
' We had almost given you up," said Jemima.
' Better late than never," added the lovely Polly.
' Why, Maggie, I'm so glad to see you, old girl ! "
' It's good for sore eyes. Pa is so pleased."
' This is Fred Bank's sister. We coaxed her down to help
to keep John in order ; she can give it to him in style when
he is too bumptious."
" Law, Jimmy I I don't know what Miss Grey will think of
me!"
Such were a few of the torrent of words which almost
stunned Maggie ; she was too innately wise with the wisdom
of good feeling to shrink from homeliness ; but the rampant
vulgarity, the noisy self-satisfaction of her cousins, utterly
overwhelmed her. She was, however, pleased that they
seemed glad to see her, and so allowed herself to be swept
in-doors, where Aunt Grey, who honored the country with a
white lace cap and green ribbons, awaited her in a large, low
comfortable parlor, cheerfully lighted by three windows. A
huge beam ran across the ceiling, and a nice red fire glowed
in a tolerably modern grate. " Well, Maggie, it's a treat to
see you," said Mrs. Grey, quite graciously, " and highly con-
descending to come from such grandeur to our 'umble 'ome.
Where's your pa, girls ? Tell him Maggie's come. Here,
John, let me help you off with your coat, and draw up to the
fire ; it's a cold afternoon."
Here Uncle Grey made his appearance in tolerably well-
blacked boots and a generally brisked-up air, which delighted
Maggie's quick eye even while she hugged him heartily.
" Dear, dear uncle, I am so glad to see you ! And you are
looking so well."
"Why, my little girl, and so are you, and smart I see a
sort of change in you. Eh, don't you, my dear ? "
" Of course I do," said Mrs. Grey.
" Only the difference between new clothes and old," whis-
pered Maggie, pleasantly.
"Come," cried John from the fire, "I thought you did not
like to be hugged, and there you are cuddling the governor to
no end. How goes it, governor ? " cried John, patronizingly,
386 THE WOOING (TT.
and rising to shake hands with his father. " And now, girls,
get us something to eat, we are famished. I'll answer for
partner and self."
" Law, Mr. John ! " cried Miss Banks, with fascinating
liveliness, " have you and your cousin entered into partner-
ship ? "
' Articles ain't signed yet," returned John, facetiously.
Bell and Jemima accompanied Maggie to perform the
ceremony known as " taking her things off." The room to
which they took her, though far from luxurious, was cleaner
and better than the bedrooms .of Beverly Street, and here
Bell and Jemima poured forth a duo of intelligence :
" Ditton is such a nice jolly sort of place," and " Do you
know Fred Banks is here, and pa's partner ? he is grown so
steady never goes out of an evening."
" I suppose he finds the company at home too pleasant to
leave," said Maggie, smiling; whereon Jemima tossed her
head and Bell laughed.
" Don't you chaff before John," said Jemima. " He is
horrid particular. And do you know, ma thinks Polly is quite
smitten with John, and would be a nice match for him ; but
Bell say's it's no good, he is bespoke." A knowing look at
Maggie pointed the remark.
A very plentiful repast, in the shape of a " meaty tea, '
was set forth when Maggie descended ; whereat the whole
party assembled. Maggie slipped into her old place by her
uncle, and under pretense of not putting brother and sister
together, Mrs. Grey placed the junior partner between Maggie
and " Jim," as she was familiarly called, and John between
Miss Banks and Bell.
John never appeared, in Maggie's estimation, to less
advantage than when, " among his own people and in hit
father's house," he was monarch of all he surveyed. On the
present occasion he was unusually joyous and rampant. Miss
Banks' evident admiration filled the easily inflated balloon of
his self-esteem even nigh to bursting, and he regarded the
whole company except Fred Banks as puppets, to be benevo-
lently moved by his hands.
" So glad to see you, my dear," said Uncle Grey, quietly
and privately to Maggie.
" Not more than I am to see you," in the same tone, and
pressing his hand.
" Come, Mag ; let the governor alone, and see if you can
manage to get through the afternoon meal without golden
THE WOOING aT. 387
sherry and what did you call the sweet stuff ? I can tell you
Mag has been living on the fat of the land " and John
proceeded to give a glowing account of his visit to Grantham.
While he talked, Maggie indulged in a steady look at Miss
Banks, whose attention was absorbed in the speaker.
She was of the " fine animal " order ; with very white teeth,
very red cheeks, and very black eyes ; dreadfully afflicted
with a consciousness of her own charms, and possessed of a
pair of large red serviceable hands ; but Maggie was pleased
to observe her expression was far from forbidding or unpleas-
ant ; for thought she, " I cannot help fancying she will be
Cousin John's wife." While Miss Banks very deliberately
eyed " little Maggie," of whom she had heard so much, from
head to foot, and decided that she was a poor, insignificant
little creature ; almost plain ; and that it was not probable a
fine young man like John Grey would be content with such a
little chit when there were finer articles to be had. Of course
he would be a great catch for her, penniless as she was.
John's description of Grantham roused a large amount of
interest and curiosity.
" What was Miss Grantham like ? "
" A stunner. / can tell you," replied John. " As tall as
Miss Polly here ; as straight as an arrow ; and as fair as
oh ! as anything ; her hands looked as white, and soft, as a
bit of down and all sparkling over with rings. I never saw
such a heap. She was uncommon pleasant, and quite anxious
for information about South Africa ; but just as I was about
to tell her a lot, Mag, who I could see had been fidgety, or
jealous or something, said we were trespassing on her time,
and jumped up though I am sure the young lady would
rather I should have stayed. Eh, Mag ? "
" Perhaps so," said Maggie, prudently.
" Law, Maggie ! and what did you do all day ? " asked
Bell.
" Oh ! I wrote letters and copied papers and practised,
and walked and drove about."
" A nice easy life, I am sure," said Mrs. Grey.
" And did you used to be all by yourself in the evenings ? "
" Not she," put in John. " She used to spend them very
agreeably with a thin fellow a * snuff the moon ' high and
mighty swell ! "
" What ! by your own selves ? " asked Miss Banks,
horrified.
" No, no," said Maggie, laughing good-humoredly ; " I
388 THE WOOING CPT.
used to go into the drawing-room every evening to play cards
and Miss Grantham's accompaniments, and met the gentle
man Cousin John means among the rest of the company."
" And who were the company ? "
Maggie gave a catalogue raisonnte of the people staying at
Grantham.
" My ! the Earl of Torchester ! " exclaimed Jemima.
" He is quite young, isn't he ? " asked Fred Banks. " I
remember his coming of age. He is very rich, quite a big
swell."
" And did the earl ever speak to you ? " asked Miss Banks,
" Oh, yes ; I knew him before, in Paris. I used to think
him like John."
" Goodness, Maggie ! Why did you never name him
before ? "
" Why, Mag, you are as close as wax."
" I suppose you knew Mr. What-d'ye-call-him in Paris,
too ? "
"Wherever did Mrs. Berry pick up such people?"
chorussed the ladies of the family and Cousin John.
" I scarcely know ; but Mr. Trafford and Lord Torchester
used to be at her reception parties."
" And what is the earl like ? "
" He is a plain, shy, good natured young man, rather like
John,"
" It does not sound very like," said Miss Banks. " I can't
discover that Mr. John Grey is shy."
" Or plain," added the subject of her remarks.
" I did not say so, sir."
" But you implied it. I'll be hanged if you didn't."
A noisy encounter of wit ensued ; after which Maggie had
another cross-examination as to the habits of the aristocracy,
which she went through satisfactorily under a running fire of
" Upon my word you have fallen on your feet."
" What a lucky little thing you have been, Maggie ! "
" Sixty pounds a year for just doing nothing."
" That is the worst of it. I should like to have more to
do," said Maggie.
" It is rather like being a servant, isn't it ? " asked Miss
Banks, with an air of simply asking for information.
" It is," replied Maggie, calmly ; " I only wish I had more
definite service to perform."
John said nothing, but he looked a little exultingly at the
fair Polly. He rose a few minutes after. " Come, governor."
THE WOOING O'T. 389
said he, " I want a smoke and a little quiet talk with you and
Banks." And the three gentlemen retired. Nor were the la-
dies dull in their absence. Mrs. Grey expatiated on the rela-
tive cost of housekeeping in town and country. While Maggie
made herself amusing and instructive by an accurate descrip-
tion of the fashions atGrantham, of the dresses ordered by Miss
Granthan for her visit to Llanelwy of her jewels of the
Viscountess Brockhurst and above all, of the brilliant Mar-
quise De Beaumanoir. Finally, when the gentlemen rejoined
them they had a round game, at which the spirits of the party
rose to a high pitch.
Time would fail to tell how Miss Banks declared John
cheated, and tried to snatch his cards to prove herself right,
and was in the wildest exultation and the lowest depths of de-
spair ; how John accepted all this curiously expressed tribute
to his powers of captivation with a rollicking air of superior-
ity ; how Maggie felt utterly extinguished in the general hub-
bub (for which Mr. Banks and Jemima were almost as noisy) ;
how Cousin John at intervals would cry, " Hey, Mag, what
are you and the governor about ? " just to keep her spirits
from drooping for he was determined, to quote his own
thoughts, to give her a such a dose of Polly Banks as would
put the thin horseman and all the other filagree chaps at
Grantham out of her head.
The last act was a substantial supper, a liberal allowance
of Market Ditton ale, for which it was considered famous,
some hot brandy and water, a spoonful or two in a wineglass
to each lady ; and the party, well pleased with themselves and
each other, broke up.
The succeeding Sunday was bright and dry. Mr. Grey,
Fred Banks, and the ladies, went duly and properly to church ;
but John luxuriated in his slippers till dinner time. " You
see," he explained, with his usual candor, " I haven't a char-
acter to keep or to lose in Market Ditton ; if I had I'd be as
regular at church as the parson."
After church came the early dinner. A walk succeeded,
when all paired off, for Bell elected to remain at home, and
Maggie appropriated her uncle's arm. It was a rural though
flat country around Market Ditton, nevertheless pleasant,
with neat cottages, orchards and hedgerows.
Maggie thoroughly enjoyed her talk with her uncle ; theif
former sympathy and confidence flowed as freely into the old
channels as though it had never been interrupted, and Uncle
390 THE WOOING O'T.
Grey imparted to his affectionate listener, with unusual ani-
mation, that he had been asked to deliver a popular lecture
on chemistry at the local literary and scientific institution;
.and as John approved the scheme, he was going to do so.
Then Uncle Grey proceeded to describe the subject or sub-
jects, and his intended treatment of the same, and Maggie
continued deeply interested.
John looked a little sulky when they returned. He had
positively neglected Maggie for Miss Banks, and the provok
ing little monkey was so wrapped up in the governor's rigma-
roles that she did not even seem to see it. However the tone
in which she replied to Bell's question, " Have you had a
pleasant walk ? " by a sincere " Oh, delightful ! you can't
think how pleasant," struck John as being too exaggerated.
He therefore consoled himself with the conviction that the
whole was a piece of acting; but that in reality Mag was
breaking her heart. The result of which was a reversal of
his conduct, and from tea-time onward he was the most demon-
strative to his cousin, and negligent of his father's fair guest.
Miss Banks was alternately moody and boisterous, and Mag-
gie was thoroughly happy.
" I say, Mag,'* cried John, as they were bidding good-night,
" what train shall we go up by to-morrow ? "
" I am not going up to-morrow, John."
" Come, nonsense. You know it's all settled. We were to
go back together."
" I do not know, indeed. I wrote to Miss Grantham to say
I should stay here till Tuesday, and Lady Dormer will not be
back. I shall be all alone in that great house if I return to-
morrow."
" Don't let that trouble you," cried John. " I'll come and
keep you company."
" And then I do not know when I shall be able to come
and see my uncle and aunt again ; so I have made up my
mind, John, to stay till Tuesday."
John said no more ; but a very angry, sullen cloud gathered
on his brow, and an expression of ill-repressed wrath contrac-
ted his jaws.
" Law, Mr. John," cried Miss Banks ; " you look as if you
could eat us all without a grain of salt." Her loud but
cheery voice turned the current of his thoughts.
" You're going up to town to-morrow, aren't you ? he asked
" I did intend going "
" They'll be expecting you at home," said her brother.
THE WOOING OT. 39 t
" Come along, then. I'll take you up. We'll take the 1:45.
It's not express ; but we'll be in time for tea ; and your ma
will give me a cup of tea, eh ? "
" All right ! you shall have the tea and summut with it."
returned Miss Banks frankly.
" That's something like," cried John ; " no shilly-shally
nonsense. One would think you were my cousin, not Miss
Margaret Grey."
" Oh ! then I have not had the advantage of having been
at Grantham."
" Good-night, John," said Maggie, out of patience with his
unreasonableness. Why should he expect her to be his bond
slave ? And heartily did she that night thank " the Provi-
dence that shapes our ends " she had escaped the thraldom
of the Grey family. She was far from ungrateful to them ;
but to her " sojourn in the tents of Kedar," which may be
modernized into Beverly Street and Aunt Grey's jurisdiction,
she looked back with sincere, unmitigated horror.
John did not " come right," as Bell termed it, up to the
moment the Royal bus called to pick up the travelers
next day. He was over demonstrative affectionately toward
Miss Banks, wrathfully toward Maggie. She was unmoved,
but regretted that he should be so self-willed and unreasona-
ble.
" I shall be at P Square on Wednesday and Thursday,
John," she said, determined not' to quarrel. "After that I
am not sure."
" Oh, ain't you ? Looks very like asking me to call and
make up, don't it ? " to the company generally.
" Rather," said Jemima.
" Something," added Bell.
" Be sure you call before the missis comes back,'* put in
Miss Banks.
" I do not think we have anything to make up," said Mag-
gie : and John departed without so much as asking for a
kiss.
When Maggie reached P Square the next afternoon;,
she felt not a little satisfied to have left Aunt Grey and the
girls behind her. If it was sad and dull to be alone, it was -
at least not irritating. She could think her own thoughts
uninterrupted by petty questions and querulous commentaries,
and the perpetual display of low motives and narrow tempers^
Not that the class amid which her lot had been of late cast
was morally much elevated above the one she had left ; but
392 THE WOOING O'T.
the springs of daily life were well-oiled, and good-breeding
was at least " an outward and visible sign " still, even though
the " inward and spiritual grace " had evaporated.
"Letters for you, miss," said Mr. Johnson, entering the
drawing-room he had not thought it necessary to open the
door for the secretary " " And this card " a foreign-looking
piece of pasteboard, inscription ; " La Comtesse De Bragance,"
and under-written " Mrs. Berry."
" Oh, I am so sorry I did not see her," exclaimed Maggie,
aloud.
" The lady said she would call again."
" Do not go, Johnson. There is a letter from Miss Grant-
ham, and probably directions for you." She glanced over the
pages. " Yes, you age to go at once to Eastnor, and engage
a house facing the sea, if possible on the royal Esplanade.
Miss Grantham says you know all that is required. She
wishes it to be ready for her by the jth of February, as she
will probable leave Llanelwy about the 8th or gth. Miss
Grantham says she will require stabling for the ponies, a
pair of carriage horses, and a couple of riding horses but that
she writes to Wheeler on this subject."
" Very well, miss. Now I thought I knew every place in
England, watering or otherwise, but Eastnor sounds quite
strange. Do you happen to know it, miss ? "
" Very little, Johnson ; it is quite a new place on the
Sussex coast, but I believe growing into fashion. You must
of course start from Waterloo. This lady " pointing to the
card " would be able to tell more about it. If she calls this
evening, I will send for you, and you shall hear what she
says."
" Thank you, miss ; for I feel all at sea."
Maggie then proceeded to read Miss Grantham's letter
more deliberately. It was full, though hasty. Maggie had
executed all the commissions admirably. Nothing omitted.
Llanelwy continued to be most amusing. Geoffry Trafford
had arrived, but was going on to Ireland the day but one
;after, to see the Giant,s Causeway in bad weather. Imagine
what a provoking contradictory creature ! He asked me a
good deal about Madam De Beaumanoir's visit, and told me
Jiat you had gone out with the South African man the day he
called. Pray don't go all the way with him, dear Miss
.Grey.
" Sir Hugh Erskine is still staying on. We are getting up
a part of 'Lucrezia Borgia.' I am prima donna, but urt
THE WOOING O'T. 393
fortunately, Sir Hugh's voice is baritone ; so they are hunting
up their set for a lover for me. Johnson must get a house at
Eastnor. Lady Brockhurst and her brother, and Mrs. Stamer.
and heaps of people they know, are going there till Easter.
We are to live in the most primitive manner, and it will be
charming. Pray go down there soon and have it all nice, you
have so much taste."
The second letter was from Lady Dormer. She was so
comfortable, and dear Lady Torchester was so kind, that she
thought she would just stay where she was till Miss Grantham
had decided about a house. Would Miss Grey write and let
her know when anything was decided ?
So Mr. Trafford had followed his beautiful kinswoman.
Very natural. Just what might have been anticipated : and
moreover it implied breaking with that horrid Madame De
Beaumanoir, whereat Maggie rejoiced. " Well, I suppose
Miss Grantham will not be long Miss Grantham, et aprh, h
deluge. I hope she will not tease him too much with that Sir
Hugh Erskine."
" Mrs. Berry," said Johnson, breaking the thread of her
thoughts. Maggie rose up quickly.
Mrs. Berry, though pale, and looking a little warm, was
much the same as ever. She was well, and suitably dressed,
too.
" Oh, how glad I am to see you, dear Mrs. Berry ! " cried
Maggie embracing her.
" Ah, yes I thought you would be ; but times is sadly
changed," said the erst blooming, frisky widow. " My dear, I
am a broken-hearted woman. How nice you are looking, and
in such luck how different from poor me ! Of all the
treacherous, designing, captivating ruffians, that count was
the worst. To think of his squandering my money in five
months, and to put another woman in my place. It was
enough to turn my hair gray in a single night like poor Lord
Byron's, and Mrs. Berry plunged into a long rambling narrative
of the cruel treatment she had received and the frightful re-
verse of fortune she had sustained. This was agreeably
diversified by tea and buttered toast, sent up by the thought-
ful Mr. Johnson. Maggie was even more pleased to see Mrs.
Berry than she expected. Her familiar voice and peculiar
modes of phraseology transported her listener back to Paris
enchanted Paris of last spring before she knew in what the
enchantment consisted before she had learned that she must
dash away the cup of joy from her lips, and ever hereafter
394 THE WOOING OT.
shut the eye and ear of memory to that with which it was
most haunted.
" And dear Mrs. Berry, what are you doing now ? " asked
Maggie, as she sat beside her former patroness, and held her
hand in hers.
" That's what I was coming to," said Mrs. Berry. " I de-
clare, Maggie, it quite warms my heart to talk to you, and I
can see you are downright glad to have me with you. Ah,
Maggie, if I had taken your advice ! " and she dropped a few
tears. " Well, I was saying, I have agreed to rent a furnished
house from a friend at Eastnor, and let my rooms in the sea-
son ; and if I find I can make it pay I'll buy up the concern
my trustees will advance me the money, or, indeed, buy
the house for me, so that the count can't touch it ; and I want
you to get some of the grandees you are amongst to give me
a turn."
" I did mention your plan to Lord Torchester and Miss
Grantham."
" Lord Torchester ! " cried Mrs. Berry, interrupting her
with great amazement. " You dont mean to say he has
turned up again ? Now don't you go to refuse him a second
time."
" He will not give me an opportunity. I think he has for-
gotten he ever asked me. He is in love with Miss Grantham
now," and Maggie proceeded to explain the relationship be-
tween them.
" Well, well ! " said Mrs. Berry, " the changeableness and
inconstancy of those men is just awful ! My dear, you would
have been man and wife by this if it hadn't been for Trafford
a deep, designing, proud fellow as ever I came across, but
I must say, pleasant to talk to."
"How large is your house, Mrs. Berry? Miss Grantham
wants one at Eastnor just now, and a number of fashionable
people are going down next month. Would you mind telling
Johnson about the place ? He is going down to-morrow, and
knows nothing whatever of it."
Johnson was summoned, and received many useful hints.
Mrs. Berry's own house was too small ; for, as Johnson ob-
.served, majestically, " we will want a dining-room and a draw-
ing-room, and a morning-room, at the least, and a private sit-
ting-room, bediom and dressing-room for Miss Grantham her-
self; then," with a comprehensive wave of the hand toward
Maggie, " there's my lady and Miss Grey and mademoiselle
and myself, and three or four more."
THE WOOING O'T. 395-
" Law, my good man," cried Mrs. Berry, to Maggie's horror,
"you needn't talk tome. I know all about what you must
want ; it's not so long since I had a sa/on, and a salle a manger,
and dressing-rooms, and all the rest of ir, myself. No ! my
place isn't big enough; but number 15, Royal Esplanade, is
a fine corner-house, and mine is number 3, Esplanade Villas,
quite handy. I could let a few upper bedrooms to some of
you, if you require them. You go in for number 15 ; there
are parties after it, but mention my name, and you'll get it for
twelve guineas a week, and the cook in."
An expression of bland but infinite contempt stole over Mr.
Johnson's impassive features. A few more particulars, and,
stating that he was much obliged, Mr. Johnson retired.
" What a nice, polite man ! Quite the gentleman. Ah ! my
dear ! What a come-down for me to be talking about lodg-
ings to such people ! and now where were you staying when
I called on Sunday ? "
" Oh, with Uncle Grey."
" What ! and that aunt of yours, who used to wipe her shoes,
on you, in a manner of speaking ! "
"Even so," said Maggie, laughing, and proceeded to de-
scribe the revival of the family fortunes since the return of
the eldest son, frequently interrupted by Mrs. Berry's excla-
mations of " Well, I'm sure ! " and," I never ! "
" Now, my dear, I tell you what. I believe the young man
is in love with you, and I believe he was at the bottom of your
refusing that nice, elegant young nobleman. Well, well, there's
no accounting for taste but "
Here the " respectable young woman," who acted as gener-
al servant under the antiquated female in charge of the man-
sion, entered, and said, " A gentleman for you, miss."
" Law ! my dear, who can it be ? " cried Mrs. Berry. Her
question was answered by the almost immediate entrance of
Cousin John.
" I did not expect to see you to-night," said Maggie, rising
and holding out her hand. " Mrs. Berry, my cousin, Mr. John
Grey."
" Very pleased to see you, I am sure, sir. I have often
heard of you, but I never thought we should meet."
" Thank ye," said John, still surly. " Yes ! Miss Maggie,
I thought I would just come and look after you a bit there's
no knowing what this young lady would be up to, if she was
left to herself," he added to Mrs. Berry.
" Ah ! you needn't talk to me ! Were we not like sisters
396 THE WOO TNG &T.
for nearly two years ? And a sweeter, steadier girl oh ! yon
needn't shake your head. Margaret I'll say it before your
face and behind your back never walked, and I don't care who
the other is."
" She's an obstinate littre devil, anyhow," said John, relax-
ing. The fact was, John had traveled up to town the day
before and supped at Mrs. Banks' in so great a fury with
Maggie, that he was rather too demonstrative to Miss Polly,,
and now began to think he had better make all safe with his
cousin before he trusted himself again in the society of her
rival.
" Now, John," said Maggie pleasantly, " you have not the
smallest reason to find fault with me."
" Come, said Mrs. Berry, with an air of kindly chiding.
" you two have had a quarrel that's plain to see ; and you are
right down miserable, the pair of you. Why, are you such
fools as not to kiss and make it up ? Ah ! if you had gone
through the troubles I have you wouldn't be so ready to throw
away happiness."
"I'm sure I ain't," cried John; "but Mag is aggravating."
" Don't be silly," retorted Mrs. Berry. " Haven't I heard
of Cousin John till not knowing you I was sick of the sub-
ject ? And when poor Lord Torchester begged and prayed to
be let come to my elegant parties in the Champs Elyse'es there,
didn't she say, ' Do ask him Mrs. Berry, he is so like Cousin
John ? ' And then I never could make out why she refused him
no matter."
" Refused him ! refused the Earl of Torchester ? " almost
shouted John in utter amazement.
" Pray, Mrs. Berry, do not talk so ! You do not remember
things rightly ; you have had so much trouble since. Pray
say no more," urged Maggie, earnestly.
" Well, Maggie, you may say what you like ; the earl did
ask you and you refused I'll take my Bible oath of it."
John gave a long, low whistle, and stood up on the hearth-
rug. " That was a chance, Mag ! And pray, mum," to Mrs.
Berry, " as you seem to know so much about this young
woman's proceedings, did she refuse a tall, thin fellow, called
Trafford, as well ? "
Maggie laughed out loud, and Mrs. Berry replied unhesi-
tatingly. " Lord bless you, no. Trafford was no friend of
your cousin's ; he was a proud, cool hand, as might go in for
a countess in her own right. He and Maggie could nevel
agree."
THE WOOING C'T 397
" Hum," said Cousin John, and fell into deep reflection.
" Mrs. Berry, and John," said Maggie with much eamest-
ness, " I do beg both of you will never speak of this again.
It was a piece of boyish folly on the part of Lord Torchester,
which he has forgotten, and I particularly wish it not to be
known to Miss Grantham."
" I'm sure it shan't cross my lips again," said Mrs. Berry,
with a knowing smile, as though conscious of having used her
knowledge judiciously. She then plunged into a history of
her own wrongs. John was silent, and then, to Maggie's
great relief, offered to see Mrs. Berry home. She was only
in town for a few days upon a little business, she said, and
was to return to Eastnor the next day, where she hoped to
see Maggie shortly.
" I'm coming to talk to you to-morrow," remarked John to
his cousin.
" Then pray come early, for I do not want any one in the
evening, except indeed, Mrs. Berry."
The next morning brought a letter and a list of commis-
sions from Lady Dormer, with a few in addition to be execu-
ted for Lady Torchester. Maggie was well pleased to be out
and occupied, but she felt she dared not stir till John had
paid his promised visit, which, for some undefined reason, she
partly dreaded. She hoped he would not be late, and while
she hoped he came.
" How that woman talks ! " was his first remark, having
exchanged greetings. " But she is not a bad sort of a female
and deuced sharp. I wonder how that French fellow
managed to take her in."
" Her shrewdness is very narrow. Poor Mrs. Berry ! I
am quite fond of her," returned Maggie, sighing. A long
pause, during which John stood looking in deep thought at
the fire. Finally, thrusting in with his foot an obtruding
angle of coal, he turned to his companion and spoke
abruptly.
" I say, Mag, why did you refuse this big swell ? "
" Oh, because he did not could not have known his own
mind. There, I wish you would not talk about it."
" Yes, but I want to know. Come, now Mag, tell the
truth ; was it any hankering after me ? "
" Not in the least, John" with uncompromising steadi-
ness.
" What ? You didn't care a straw about me, then : "
"No, I was al \vays fond of you; but I was not in love
3$8 THE WOOING O'T.
with you, if that is what you mean," said Maggie, coloring
deeply, and praying for deliverance from this dreadful mo-
ment.
*' Then do you mean to say you don't care about me now ?
that you don't intend to marry me ? "
" Yes, John," she replied, faintly.
" Do you mean to tell me you didn't see /intended to
marry you ? I went out that I might marry you, and I came
home to marry you. You must have known it right well."
" Yes, John," the tears almost brimming over, " I have
been afraid you did think of me in this way ; and, indeed
indeed, I always tried to show you how I really felt, but you
would not understand it. I am so grieved."
" But look here, Mag," cried John, still not understanding
it, and sitting down beside her ; " ain't you the silliest little
goose in London to hesitate ? Now, without vanity, where
will you get such another offer ? You have scarcely a friend
in the world. It is all very well just now, but Miss Grant-
ham may marry any day, and where will you be ? Then I
can offer you a good home. I am a rising man ; I feel it I
know it, I might have nearly any girl I liked. Many a one
would say I ought to look higher ; but I love you, little Mag ;
I always did. Ton my soul, it's astonishing how much I
love you ! Come, now ; don't be cantankerous ; just hear
reason. Make up your mind to marry me this day month,
and I'll take a double passage in the Star of Hope. She's to
sail on the tenth of March. If you're not what they call ' in
love ' with me, you'll be ever so fond of me when we're mar-
ried."
" Oh John ! dear John ; it is quite out of the question ! I
am too fond of you as a brother to like you in any other way.
Do go away, and don't think any more about me."
" Now that's all humbug ! And remember, I am not going
to stand anything of the sort. I don't mean to go back to
South Africa without a wife that I've made up my mind to,
and if you will not have me I know who will."
" If you mean Miss Banks, I really think you might do
worse. She may talk a little fast, but she seems to me frank
and kind."
" I shan't make her half so good a husband as I shou.d you,
and I always looked to you for a wife. It's very hard, Mag
very hard to be so disappointed ! " and Maggie, touched
by this bit of pathos, felt guilty and broken-hearted. She
could not speak, and John went on lashing himself into a
THE WOOING O'T. 399
rage. " So Polly Banks is good enough for the likes of me ?
Very well ! I'll go and ask her this very day, and then see
where you'll be ! You can't whistle me back. You'll repent
this ; and for all you are so fine and disinterested, it's my
belief that you are ' in love,' after your fashion, with some
other fellow."
" You are unjust and unkind. You have no right to say
such a thing. You think too much of yourself."
" Oh, I do, do I ? Well, good-morning to you ! " And the
irate and painfully surprised John turned and went away in a
rage.
CHAPTER XXX.
EASTNOR was at once old and new. It occupied two sides
of a craggy angle, hardly high enough to be dignified with
the name of cliff. Beneath the eastern and loftier portion nest-
led an irregular village of fishermen's cottages, with pictur-
esque red-tiled roofs, interspersed with a few better but very
old-fashioned houses, which was all the accommodation the
place could boast for strangers, eight or ten years previously.
However, a rich railway magnate had by some curious
involvement of circumstances become the possessor of a
stretch of sandy common which sloped to the sea on the
western side, and here he erected a Royal Esplanade, a Royal
Hotel of massive design, after Pugin (a long way), and a gar-
den, with an erection like a gigantic umbrella for the accom-
modation of a German band, which was intermittent in it's
attendance, owing to the uncertain nature of the subsidies.
Thus old and new Eastnor turned their backs on each
other. For some occult reason Cockneys had not yet found
out the place, but the dowager Duchess of St. Perigord, who
was very much out of health and depressed " derangement
of the nervous system," said Sir Seville Row really a severe
course of breakfasts, luncheons, dinners and suppers, and a
little too free an application of phlebotomy to her pocket by
an ill-judged purchase of railway shares under the direction
of the above-mentioned magnate the duchess, we say, was
induced, by the loan, rent-free, of a house on the Esplanade,
to try the restorative breezes of Eastnor. It was during her
stay there that the remarkable recovery in the Wessex and
East Anglia scrip took place, which saved more firms frcca
400 THE WOOING ffT.
smashing than was generally known. Her grace consequenf
ly returned to town in high health and spirits, quite eloquent
as to the life-giving nature of Eastnor air, about the capital
fish to be had for a mere song, the delightful fishing-boats,
and the primitive charm of old Eastnor. Every one in her
grace's set was talked to, and a very fair reputation establish
ed for Eastnor. Still it did not make rapid progress, and
was still sufficiently free from vulgar notoriety to be some-
what attractive on that score.
When Maggie and Lady Dormer arrived they found the
judicious Johnson had engaged the very corner house indicated
by Mrs. Berry. It was a large mansion of brown paper con-
sistency and imposing dimensions. Nevertheless, when
Maggie looked around on the scanty and not over-luxurious
furniture, she thought of Grantham, and wondered how its
mistress would support such a state of things in this temporary
abode. After much consultation with Johnson, who was glad
to find our young lady's secretary " so knowledgable " on such
subjects, they managed, with the aid of a local upholsterer,
who lent out his stock to oblige visitors at something like a
hundred per cent, remuneration, with plants and ferns and a
few ornaments, to make the house cheerful, and even seemly,
before the arrival of the mistress.
At last, after two disappointments, she came.
Maggie felt as if new life and warmth had been suddenly
infused into the household by her presence.
It was a cold, raw February evening when she reached
Eastnor, and the ambitious little place was far from looking
its best. Maggie, however, had grand fires made up, and all
the new periodicals set forth, and views of Eastnor, and a
fair supply of novels at hand ; so when the fair princess
arrived, everything looked comfortable.
" My dear Miss Grey, I am so glad to see you ! " a kind
little kiss on her forehead " and how nice and comfortable
you have made everything quite home-like. Do you know I
am so pleased to be here, though it is a bleak-looking place ?
and I have quantities to tell you. Lady Brockhurst has
arrived ? "
" Yes ; the day before yesterday, I think."
" Do you know who is with her?"
" Not in the least."
" Now, remember, you are to be in the drawing room every
evening ; we cannot get on without you cards and music,
you know, are quite indispensable."
THE WOOING OT. 401
Miss Grantham was evidently in high spirits and good
humor, and her kindness was so unvarying that Maggie began
to be assured and at home, even in the goodly company which
quickly rallied round the heiress.
The very evening Miss Grantham had arrived, as the three
ladies were sipping their tea after a somewhat late dinner,
Lady Brockhurst and Captain Neville were announced.
The gay and enterprising little viscountess had wrapped
herself in furs and ran across from the opposite corner of the
Esplanade, escorted by her brother.
" Here I am, my dear Miss Grantham, to have a little
gossip. Is it not delightful to be able to go in and out with-
out any fuss or trouble ? "
" Charming ! So glad to see you. Had you a pleasant
sojourn at the Loughtons' ? "
"Pretty well rather slow. Oh, Mrs. Loughton has a
brother or a cousin or somebody quartered somewhere in
Ireland, who met your favorite relative, Geoffrey Trafford, the
other day at the house of some old general who has a craze
for making a railway through the Caucasus to Teheran, or
some such place, and Mr. Trafford talks of accompanying
him on a surveying expedition next month."
" I should not be in the least surprised at anything Geoff
Trafford does," said Miss Grantham languidly ; and the
conversation flowed on other subjects, in which Maggie took
little or no interest.
" I hate that woman ! " said Miss Grantham, energetically,
as she bade Maggie good-night.
" What, Lady Brockhurst ? " cried Maggie, in amazement.
" I thought you liked her so much."
" I used when I was more of a child. She thinks she can
always patronize me, but I find I can stand alone and rival her,
all captivating as she is. I really did believe in her once, and
thought her devoted to me, but if she thinks I am to be a
follower of hers, or of any one, she is very much mistaken.
And then she is so mean. Ah, I will tell you all about every-
thing to-morrow. I am quite tired, and I do not intend to be
bored with Lady Brockhurst every evening. Good-night, my
dear Miss Grey."
Maggie retired, pondering deeply the intricacies of a life
so different from all her original experiences. If Miss
Grantham hated Lady Brockhurst, why did she forsake her
own beautiful home to bivouac in this bleak place, for the
avowed purpose of being near the object of her hatred ?
rf
402 THE WOOING OT.
But after all, the differences lay in the outer husk ; the innef
springs were just the same as those which moved Aunt Grey
and Polly Banks and Cousin John poor, honest, conceited,
simple Cousin John about whom she could not bear to think.
So, pondering, but far from arriving at any conclusion,
Maggie fell asleep.
" This is really a very comfortable little cupboard," said
Miss Grantham when she joined Maggie next morning in the
study, which she had improvised out of one of the bedrooms.
" And you really have the manuscript there ? Well, I shall
try and get on with it. I may manage it better here than at
Grantham, and I shall put Lady Brockhurst in it. Did you
hear what she said about Geoffrey last night, just to worry me ?
Come, sit down here, Miss Grey what is your name?
Maggie, I think your South African cousin called you. I
shall call you Maggie. You really are quite a little jewel ;
you are so quiet and capable : and oh, I do think you are
true, for I begin to feel rather than see, that people are very
false and hollow. Don't you think so ? "
" No," said Maggie thoughtfully. " The generality are cold
and selfish. I think if the greater number were false, as some
say, the world could not go on."
" Well, Llanelwy was delighted. Little Alf Sr. Lawrence
was so amusing and devoted to me from the first ; and a
Spaniard, a Conde di Montiero, quite a change from the rest,
so grave and serious he fell in love with me too, or seemed
to do so. Then Sir Hugh Erskine, who was very cool and
reserved at first, tried hard to make me make the first advances,
and was quite aux petit s soins with Lady Brockhurst ; but at
last he gave in, after I found fault with his singing, and
recommended him not to sing his best song any more. Oh,
it was great fun ! Lady Brockhurst could not forgive me.
She tried to make me lose my temper, and very nearly
succeeded ; than she used to play my accompaniments and
pretend to break down and put me out so mean and
unladylike. If we are to be enemies, let it be open and
gallant warfare. However, one of the Miss Stamers, sweet
girls, who were staying there, played very well, and I was
soon independent of that little viper of a viscountess. By
the by f we must find a house for Mrs. Stamer. She only
wants a small one ; she is not rich. I promised to look out
for one. Well, just as Sir Hugh and I became great friends
and he really can be charming ; I think I could have
THE WOOING O'T. 403
fallen in love with him, only that but no matter," said Miss
Grantham, interrupting herself. " Just as Sir Hugh was
beginning to be looked upon as my cavalier, and the
Spaniard showed symptoms of despair, Geoff Trafford arrived.
The first evening he came, Lady Hillshire, our hostess,
occupied him a good deal. I was rather curious to see them
meet, for you know Geoffrey was desperately in love with
her eight or nine years ago, when she was Miss Herbert ; I
believe they were engaged, but she threw him over shame-
fully for the marquis, who is dreadfully ugly. He has been a
wanderer ever since Geoffrey, I mean. I could see that he
didn't give her a thought. Oh, Maggie, he was watching me
all night ! and looking so grave and stern just as I remem-
ber him long ago, when he used to scold Torchester and my
self. Of course this made me flirt outrageously with Sir
Hugh."
"Did it?" ejaculated Maggie, deeply interested, and
partially, only partially, understanding Miss Grantham's
motive?.
" Yes-, of course. The next day Geoffrey was constantly
with me, bi't I managed to be very amiable to Sir Hugh. So
in the everin^r Geoff contrived to have a little talk with me
privately ; be began about Madame De Beaumanoir, and
found out, that I drove her to the station, and then oh. '
think we talked, ^f you ; I forget what he said, but it's J^
matter. Next he sa'd, with a sort of grave smile and stern
look in his eyes don't you know it ? ' Margaret, we have
been such friends that you Piust let me lecture you. My dear
girl, I wish you would not n?ake yourself so remarkable, nor
allow Erskine to assume the son of right to you he does. I
should be sorry to believe you entertained a serious thought
of him, yet he is a sort of fellow it will be difficult to shake
off. Promise me you will be a little general in accepting
attentions,' and all that sort of thing I laughed and chaffed,
and I think I succeeded in vexing him, for nothing would in-
duce him to remain, and so he has gone to Ireland, and
hardly bade me good-bye. Ah, Maggie, little friend, I have a
glimpse of the light at last ! Geoffrey, the cold, careless,
impassive Geoffrey, is jealous ! "
" But he is gone away," said Maggie, unable to feel that
Miss Grantham's hopes were quite justifiable.
" Yes, but only to Ireland ; it is a proof of his feelings, that
he could not bear to stay. Now I have trusted you rarely,
Maggie. Never betray this weakness or folly of mine nOj
404 THE WOOING OT.
it is not weakness or folly either to be so fond of Geoffrey
Trafford. And I must speak to some one, or I shall burst.
Now what have you been doing ? "
But Maggie had little to tell, and suppressed the best or
most important part. "And so Geoff Trafford's elegant
hostess is down here and letting lodgings, poor thing. How
shamefully that husband of hers has treated her ! Come, we
will go and see her to-day or rather her house. Perhaps it
may suit Mrs. Stamer."
And it did suit, to Maggie's great joy ; so poor Mrs. Berry,
whose natural aptitude for business developed rapidly in her
altered circumstances, began to reap some benefit from her
" venture " sooner than she expected.
But Miss Grantham was more occupied than ever. A deep
but unspoken rivalry existed between her and the viscountess.
They were always trying to outdo each other in new schemes
of pleasure, new toilettes new fascinations. Eastnor was so
near town that famous members of their society frequently
ran down for two or three days on their way north, south,
east, or west.
Then, after a mile or two of flat, low-lying land, with spare
hedges, and melancholy trees, their heads bent in the opposite
direction to the prevailing winds, a pretty undulating country
showed itself, with valleys and woods, and an obliging ruin or
two, a few civilized gentlemen's places, very suitable objects
for a morning's ride if the season was too early for picnics.
More members of the " upper-ten " found Eastnor not so bad
a place to vegetate in till Easter, which was early that year.
So after a few scattered hours given to her once favorite liter-
ary scheme, Miss Grantham gave it up, begging Maggie to go
on with it so far as she had made notes of her intentions,
and then they would see what was to be done.
Maggie consequently found herself much more of a com-
panion to Lady Dormer than secretary to her niece.
It was a constant though scarce acknowledged source of
mortification to her, that though invariably kind, and, at those
rare times when they were alone together, utterly confidential
respecting herself and every one else, Miss Grantham would
seem to forget her existence for days together. The Misses
Stamer, pretty, well-bred, common-place girls, were with their
mother, the devoted adherents and admirers of the Limeshire
heiress. Nothing but the force of good manners preserved
their homage from becoming fulsome and abject, Miss Grant-
ham, loyal, simple, utterly spoiled, and believing in herself
THE WOOING OT. 405
vrith an absolute faith almost sad to see, accepted the curious
conglomerate of self-interest, grasping ambition, and the
spurious liking which arises from the gratification of these
tendencies, offered to her by the needy but well-born widow
and her daughters as purest ore, and returned it tenfold with a
degree of enthusiastic patronage most profitable to the
recipients.
They were bitter foes to the viscountess, though included
in all her parties, and never failed to add fuel to Miss Grant-
ham's rather unreasoning dislike of the small peeress, merely
to prove their ardent partisanship with their dear friend.
Maggie, a quiet looker-on, saw most of the game, and with
deep regret. She feared the constant adulation, and perpet-
ually feeding of Miss Grantham's unhealthy craving for
excitement and admiration, would, if unchecked, swallow up
and efface her many noble and lovable qualities.
They were not very bright days to little Maggie. She was
much alone, and felt a very unnecessary item in the house-
hold ; but books and music helped her, and she often stole
away to comfort Mrs. Berry with a quiet chat about the
glories of the past.
" I cannot help thinking, Mrs. Berry," she said one after-
noon, as they were having a cup of tea in the widow's down
stair parlor, " I cannot help thinking that you are happier and
better than you used to be."
" Happy ! " replied Mrs. Berry, indignantly. " A pretty
sort of happiness, after the life and company I have been
used to. But I will say that I don't seem to have the time
to think about it, and I am a little proud of my house ; it's
the tidiest and cleanest in the place ; the Honorable Mrs.
Stamer says it is a pleasure to have a chop here. I am sure
I am glad of it, for they have nothing else. Between you
and me and the post, I don't think they have much money,
and it is a pity, for a nicer spoken lady than the Honorable
Mrs. S. I never met. But she's sharp. Well, you can't
blame her, and if she does dispute a scuttleful of coals it's
done civil and pleasant ; but she is not what you would call
a profitable lodger. I am sure they live more at your young
lady's than here. But I am not one of the greedy sort. Still
I do look for my profits, and people can't expect scuttlefuls
at the same rate as tons. And now tell me, do you never
hear from that fine young man, your cousin ? You could
have him for the taking."
406 THE WOOING O'T.
" Well, I do not mean to take him. I am sure you oughl
not to advocate matrimony."
" My dear, it's quite another pair of shoes. I had money,
plenty to have kept me comfortable all the days of my life,
if I hadn't been just deluded ; but you you haven't sixpence
to bless yourself with, and yet you go on refusing the best of
offers ! "
" Now, dear Mrs. Berry, be accurate. I never had but one,
and it would have been cruel to have accepted that."
" I declare to goodness, Maggie, it would vex a saint to
hear you talk. Suppose you had married the earl then
you'd have been in the height of splendor, and perhaps tak-
ing me for your companion ; for, to do you justice, you are
not the sort to turn your back on a friend."
" And to do you justice," said Maggie, taking her hand,
" you are too genuinely English not to prefer honest, hard,
but free labor to the smooth idling slavery of companion-
ship."
" Law, Maggie ! you don't mean to say you are a slave to
Miss Grantham ? "
" Far, far from it. She is all kindness, and I have only
too little to do ; but I should prefer the hardest work in a
little home of my own."
" Now ain't you contradictory, Maggie ! There you turn
up your nose at matrimony, and in the next breath talk of a
home of your own."
" Turn up my nose at matrimony ? " cried Maggie with
some warmth. " I do nothing of the kind. To love some
good man heartily and marry him, is about the happiest lot I
can imagine for a woman. But even with this view, my kind
friend, I do not see the sense of accepting copper while you
have a chance of getting silver ; for if silver is a necessity to
you, copper will never supply its place."
''Well, Maggie, I don't pretend to understand you when
you talk fine. All I know is that half a loaf is better than
no bread."
" That depends," said Maggie, sagely. " There is a half
loaf that won't digest."
" Never mind, dear, have another cup, and tell me what
you do of an evening."
" Oh, at present we are very busy rehearsing for the con
cert that is to be given for the Eastnor Lifeboat Marine In-
stitution."
"Law! I have heard of that. Tell me all about it."
THE WOOING CfT. 407
* "Well, Miss Grantham and Lady Brockhurst and Mrs.
McGrabbit, the rich city lady who has the villa, have made
up their minds to give a concert in the great room of the
Royal Hotel. Miss Grantham, the viscountess, and Miss
Mary Stamer, are to be the singers, with a Mr. Fitzalan, from
London. Then the choir from St. Winifred's will assist. I
am to play the accompaniments for the songs, and J am
dreadfully frightened."
" Pooh, my dear, you will do first-rate. You always
were a dab at music and I gave you every chance I could."
" You did indeed, Mrs. Berry."
" Ah, my dear ! I ought to be in Paris receiving the Court
grandees if everyone had their rights. I will say that if
that unfortunate, unhappy man, the count, had not been so
wrapped up in his politics and the rights of his ' Henri Cinq/
things might have been very different. But oh 1 he behaved
shameful to me. Must you go ? "
" Yes, I must indeed but I will come soon again."
The concert spoken of in the foregoing conversation had
been the supreme occupation of the last ten days, and prom-
ised to continue all engrossing for as many more. There
had been a sudden and spasmodic attempt on the part of the
learned professions, Law, Physic, Divinity, to improve the
occasion of such wealthy and distinguished company being at
Eastnor during rather stormy weather, to recruit the funds of
the Life Boat and Marine Hospital Institution. The doctor,
the lawyer, and an energetic single-breasted young incumbent
(we allude to his coat, not his conscience), of the modern
mediaeval church of St. Winifred a marvel of colored bricks
and paint formed themselves into a deputation to ask the
patronage of Lady Brockhurst and Miss Grantham, in addi-
tion to that of Mrs. McGrabbit, whose more permanent im-
portance the priest of St. Winifred's durst not despise.
Lady Brockhurst was out when "the deputation " called, and
Miss Grantham was at home. The heiress was abundantly
civil, and quite interested ; promised them all sorts of help
in the concert or " recitation " as the clergyman modestly
termed it which the members of his choir proposed to give,
and sent them on their way rejoicing.
" Of course," said Miss Grantham to Maggie, " they went
to that little viper of a viscountess first ; but I will show
where the real help come from."
Naturally, the concert, like most other matters, became a
source of rivalry ; none the less deep because veiled under
408 THE WOOING O'T.
an appearance of working in harmony for the same excellent
object. To one condition, however, Miss Grantham adhered
firmly; unless Benedict himself could be induced to come
down, no one save Maggie should play her accompaniments ;
and to her sovereign will the rest yielded.
As the important evening approached the excitement be-
came more intense ; and when Johnny Fitzalan, the renowned
singing man of their set, and Sir Hugh Erskine, promised to
come down and give their valuable services, enthusiasm
touched its highest point. Even Maggie caught the infec-
tion, and almost lost sight of her fears. Fortunately for her f
the principal bass at St. Winifred's and a melancholy bari-
tone would perform on the violin and the violincello ; so
with Miss McGrabbit on the piano, they were to form the or-
chestral accompaniment to a quartet, which was to be the
grand effect of the evening.
" Mademoiselle," demanded her secretary, at an early hour
on the eventful day. Ce'cile lifted up hands and eyes at her
lady's energy, as she summoned Maggie.
" I have such a heap of letters this morning," exclaimed
Miss Grantham. " Every one seems attracted by the fame
of our concert. Fancy Torchester coming ! who never could
make out the difference between ' Rule Britannia ' and the
' British Grenadiers.' I fancy he is glad of an excuse to
make up with me, for he sulked shamefully at Llanelwy and
that great heavy Colonel Molyneux is coming with him, and
dear little Alfred St. Lawrence. But Maggie, is it not
strange among all these, pointing to a quantity of freshly
opened letters, " not a word, not a trace of Geoff Trafford ?
It is quite more than a month since he disappeared, and no
one knows anything of him. Mr. Bolton even writes to me
for news ; and he and Geoff are almost always en rapport.
He could not have started to make that railway without some
adieux or preparations. Is it not odd ? wretched ? "
Miss Grantham had not mentioned Trafford for a long
time. And Maggie was glad of it she knew not why,
except for a dim but deep conviction that bitter disappoint-
ment awaited the friend she valued so much, should her
feelings toward that ungrateful wanderer continue the same.
" Mr. Trafford will appear when least expected," she said.
" It would be extremely difficult for him to appear when he
is not expected," returned Miss Grantham, smiling. " Ah,
my dear little friend, I fear I am foolish, and perhaps undig-
nified but I cannot help it. Now tell me is your dress aU
THE WOOING OT. 4OJ
right ? The Brockhurst faction must not overshadow us.
Our bouquets will not arrive till the 5:30 train ; and I dare
say Torchester will arrive with them."
The hours flew quickly past, and then that fixed for the
concert drew near. Lady Brockhurst was to assemble the
performers at her house for some slight refreshment previous
to the entertainment, but en ravanche Miss Grantham was to
receive all at a grand supper when it was over.
Maggie was tired before it was time to dress ; and hearing
from one of the housemaids that Lord Torchester and another
gentleman were in the drawing-room, gladly sat down for a
few moments in her own chamber, before beginning her
toilette. She had hardly got half through that operation
before a message from Miss Grantham reached her, requesting
that she would be ready in the drawing-room in good time, as
she herself had been detained.
Maggie, however, finished her dressing at her leisure,
knowing the probable duration of Miss Grantham's, and
then, stealing a glance of shy approval at herself in the glass,
took her red bournous over her arm, and went down stairs.
The drawing room was lit up, but empty, save for a gentle-
man in morning dress who was standing by the fire reading
one of the evening papers, which had just come in.
His back was to Maggie, but it was not necessary for her to
see his face ; for with infinite surprise, and an instant or two
of wild heart-beating, she recognized Mr. Trafford. He did
not hear her enter, and she stood a moment feeling awkward
and irresolute. She had nearly turned to steal away, when
Trafford suddenly threw down his paper and looked full
at her. He, too, seemed rather surprised when his eyes
fell on the graceful little figure before him ; for Maggie was
en grande tenue in a soft white crapy dress, festooned with
rosettes of black ribbon and lace. The pretty sloping
shoulders shown, and a jet necklet round her throat. Her
liair was rolled into a coronet, without any ornament ; and
the only bit of color about her was a bouquet of bright
flowers, whre the folds of her dress were crossed upon the
bosom. She was far from being a beautiful girl, but there
was a wonderful charm of grace and tranquility about her
face and form a sad tenderness about her mouth in repose ;
a sweet merriment in its dimples when she laughed. She
was looking pale, too, as if languid and fatigued. Yes, she
was far from being brilliant or beautiful ; yet, when Trafford's
eyes fell upon her, he was startled by the sudden vivid joy
410 THE WOOING O'T.
that shot through him. Nor could he keep it from speaking
in his face, however he might control his voice. No ; do
what he could, he could not uproot this boyish, unreasonable
weakness, this unconquerable folly.
" So, Miss Grey, I have arrived in time for some wonderful
celebration. Are you one of the performers ? " While he
spoke he held her hand and seemed to drink in every atom of
face and figure with his deep dark eyes all aglow with
unmistakable pleasure ; but Maggie only colored for a
moment and withdrew her hand coolly ; the deep resentment
and disappointment she had undergone on rinding that he
had in some way betrayed their drive in Bois de Boulogne
steeled her against him ; nay, taken in conjunction with that,
his look and manner were offensive.
" I have a very humble part," she said, quietly. " Miss
Grantham must have been very greatly surprised to have seen
you."
Trafford paused a moment before replying. The quick
instinct of an ardent sympathetic nature detected a change
in her voice, an indefinable something in her manner which it
had not before. She had always been quiet and composed
with him, even repellant at times ; yet there had ever been
an echo of kindness in her voice, an almost hidden tremor
that at times suggested ideas of reciprocity, which nearly
drove him across the Rubicon of prudence, beyond which he
once thought reason, self-respect, and the laws of society
forbade him to pass. Now there was the ring of cold strength
in her tone, the composure as of indifference in her manner.
"I do not think Miss Grantham knows I am here," said
Trafford, as these thoughts flashed through his brain, and
watching Maggie carefully. " I met Torchester going to
dress as I was leaving the hotel, and that was the first I
heard of the gathering here. I have been cruising about
with a friend of mine who is yachting mad, but not finding it
an agreeable pastime in February, I made him put me ashore
at Southampton this morning, and came on here to look you
up."
"I will let Miss Grantham know you are here," said
Maggie, who was putting on her gloves with great care.
" It is quite unnecessary," replied Trafford, feeling the
change in her manner more and more. " She will be here in
a few minutes."
" Still I will tell her," persisted Maggie, feeling it awkward,
imprudent, nay, impossible, to remain alone with the offender,
THE WOOING 0T. 4H
and throwing her bournous over a chair she left the room,
and running hastily up stairs tapped at Miss Grantham's
door.
" Come in," rather sharply uttered.
" Well, what is it ? " asked the heiress, who was standing
before a long glass, having the last touches put to a grand
toilette of black velvet crape and bugles, with ornaments of
black enamel and diamonds.
" Do you know Mr. Trafford is in the drawing-room ? "
" No ! I certainly did not," cried Miss Grantham, blushing
vividly over the face and neck, while she opened her great
blue eyes with amazement.
" I found him there this moment."
" Why did no one tell me ? " turning to her maid.
" Mademoiselle, I not know till the very minit I see Mr.
Johnson ; he say, monsieur will not permit you to be dis'
turbed."
" Pooh ! nonsense ! Go, Cecile, Miss Grey will fasten my
bracelets. Tell me how he is looking ? Is he dressed ?
Does he know ? "
" Mr. Trafford looks much as usual. He is in morning
dress, and has only just heard from Lord Torchester about
the concert."
" Oh, Maggie, is it not extraordinary his arriving just
now ? Pray run down, tell him to dress at once that he
must come to the concert ; and tell me what he says."
Maggie was obliged to obey. She found Trafford standing
much as she had left him.
" Miss Grantham begs you will dress and appear at the
concert. She is to sing two solos, and she wishes you to be
there."
" I have had a tiresome journey, and I am more inclined
to go to bed ; but I can fancy Margaret imagining to-night's
exhibition of the last importance." The tone of the last
words was not untinged with cynicism. " And what are you
to do sing a solo ? "
" Heaven forbid," said Maggie, laughing. " I have to play
Miss Grantham's accompaniments, and that is bad enough.
I can only pray to be brought safely through the undertaking.
The concert begins at half-past seven. You have not too
much time."
" I must go then ? "
" Miss Grantham requests you will," returned Maggie, as
a mere medium.
4 I2 THE WOOING O*T.
" And who are here ? " asked TrafTord. " All the rational
and intellectual people who were at Llanelwy ? "
" Nearly all, including Sir Hugh Erskine. He is to sing
'II Balen ' to-night."
" Hah ! " ejaculated Trafford. Do you play his accompani-
ments ? "
' No ; Lady Brockhurst does."
' He is a fascinating, irresistible character."
' Perhaps so."
' Do you think so ? "
' I ? I think or, rather I imagine he is a selfish, cruel,
hard-hearted man."
" Bravely hazarded. Really, Miss Grey, I should like to
know your private imaginary esfimate of us all."
" It would not be worth the trouble of listening to. Had
you not better go and dress, Mr. Trafford ? "
" I will. But answer me one question first. Have you
told your opinion of this man Erskine to Margaret Miss
Grantham ? "
" Yes, often ; and," with something of her old frank smile,
"you may make your mind easy she estimates him at about
his true value."
'It does make my mind easy," he replied gravely. "I
have seen Margaret grow up, and I should be sorry to see
her thrown away. There is some danger of it, too, she is so
simple and so vain, so loyal and so self-confident. See how
confidentially I speak to you," he added, smiling.
' You are safe with me," said Maggie, with some emphasis,
and went straight away to her fair mistress.
Trafford looked after her for some moments in deep
thought, and then ringing the bell told the servants he was
going back to the hotel to dress.
" Mr. Trafford obeys," said Maggie to Miss Grantham, as
Cdcile took her mistress' fan, gloves and bouquet down stairs.
" I do not think he was very pleased about the concert or
Sir Hugh. He asked what I thought of him, and asked if
you knew my opinion."
" Jealous still jealous ! " exclaimed Miss Grantham.
" Truly interested in you at any rate," said Maggie. " And
now it is quite time we should be going."
THE WOOJNG Crr. 413
CHAPTER XXXI.
Il was a new and strange experience for Maggie to look
through the chink of the door which led on to the temporary
stage or platform erected across the end of the Royal Hotel
ball-room, and see the rows of faces all looking in one direc-
tion. The whole space was fully occupied ; every one far and
near who could muster the price of a ticket was ravenous to
hear the great ladies sing ; and by the advice of the experi-
enced Fitzalan a tolerably large portion had been allotted to
moderately-priced admissions. In front were ranged the dis-
tinguished visitors, who represented not only " the guinea
stamp," but the coin itself, on this occasion.
" Look ! " said Miss Grantham, who indulged in a peep
over Maggie's head. " Every creature is here. Poor Aunt
Dormer ! does she not look nice ? next that awful old
Duchess of St. Perigord ; but the grand-daughters are rather
pretty girls. That cast-iron looking woman is Mrs. McGrab-
bit."
"Take care her daughter is behind you," whispered
Maggie.
And now the performance began with a solo and good noisy
chorus by the St. Winifred's men and boys, during which the
single-breasted incumbent stood in the half-open doorway,
agonizingly anxious. It was rapturously applauded. A trio
lady Brockhurst, Miss Stamer, and Mr. Fitzalan suc-
ceeded ; was well, but not quite so enthusiastically received ;
the majority of the audience did not quite understand what it
was about, whereas they were personally acquainted with Tom
Sykes, and Joe Deans, and little Billy Rogers of St. Wini-
fred's choir, whose music they could beat time to. The trio
was an awful trial to Maggie, who had to play the accompani-
ment ; she trembled from head to foot as she followed the
Others on to the stage.
" Don't be frightened ; you will do well," said Miss Grant-
ham. " Here, Torchester, go and stand beside Miss Grey ;
she will feel backed up."
"Yes, certainly," said the earl, most readily.
However, when seated at the piano, Maggie found herself
$o well sheltered by the singers that she was in comparative
4U THE WOOING OT.
privacy, and so got through her alloted task very successfully,
and felt glad that Lord Torchester was there to lead Ler
away ; for the rest bowed, courtesied, and retired, oblivious
of her. As she went to the temporary green-room, the rever-
end originator of the entertainment passed her, leading on
Miss McGrabbit, who was down for a Mazurka, with an un-
pronounceable name, and unlimited accidents. Miss Grant-
ham was sitting at one side of the room, looking most bril.
liantly animated, talking to Lord Alfred, Sir Hugh, and Traf-
ford, while Lady Brockhurst had only Mr. Fitzalan and a
touple of stray amateur Philharmonic men, who were staying
in the neighborhood.
" What a grand card ! Kockynowska should be here to-
night," said the earl, good-humoredly. " Do you remember
him, Miss Grey ? "
" I do, indeed. I cannot bear to think of him or any of
those dreadful people the count knew. He behaved so
shamefully to poor Mrs. Berry."
" Shocking scoundrel foolish woman."
" You did very well," said Miss Grantham, smiling pleas-
antly at Maggie. " Come, let us all go to the door and
applaud when that dreadful thing is finished." Miss Grant-
ham put her arm through Maggie's and drew her away.
" Is Saul among the prophets ? " said Sir Hugh Erskine to
Lord Torchester. " Do you perform in this wonderful exhi-
bition ? "
" Oh, no ! I leave the exhibiting to you."
" Then, really, Trafford and yourself should be banished
among the audience. By the way, who is that nice little
brown-haired girl in black and white ? "
" Miss Grey ; she is a sort of companion to Miss Grant-
ham," said the earl.
" No ? Is she the girl that plays always for the princess ?
How wonderfully she lights up ! Some uncommon good
points about her. I shan't mind turning her music for her
next time, Torchester." And Sir Hugh lounged after Miss
Grantham and Maggie.
" What a cub that is," said the earl to his cousin.
But Trafford did not reply. He was watching with a curi-
ously " riled " sensation the cool patronizing address of Sir
Hugh to " the brown-haired little girl," and the air of sur-
prise with which she lifted her eyes to his when he spoke to
her. " Come Tor, let us lose ourselves among the audience,*
be said.
THE WOOING O"T.
415
So the concert proceeded to a successful ending. Miss
Grantham and Lady Brockhurst spited each other ingeniously
and neatly. Sir Hugh Erskine rather forsook the heiress for
the viscountess ; but Miss Grantham cared little for this.
Hers was specially the song of the evening ; privately urged
by Maggie, she had selected one of Moore's melodies, and
they practised it so frequently together Maggie criticising
and suggesting, as the representative of the ordinary unscien-
tific audience that they understood each other's method per-
fectly ; and from the moment Miss Grantham's clear, fresh,,
full voice rang out in the first high note, " There is not in this
wide world a valley so sweet," to the last tender fall, the lis-
teners were utterly still, and then out burst a torrent of appro-
bation such as genuine delight only can give.
Torchester and Trafford stood close under the platform,
and nearly reduced their gloves to fragments by the energy
with which they led the claque. It was a thrilling moment,
insignificant as was the audience ; they were sentient human
beings, carried out of themselves for the instant, and on the
worker of the spell it reacted with tenfold force.
The dreaded quintette was at last accomplished, and to
Maggie's infinite delight the whole thing was over. She was
wonderfully tired ; her hands were cold and trembling, and
she longed to be alone in the dark, in bed, where she could
shed those unreasonable tears which would come into her
eyes.
And now every one rolled themselves up in their furs and
wraps, as it was not worth while getting in and out of a car-
riage to traverse the short space between the Royal Hotel and
Miss Grantham's residence. As all paired off,Maggie found
herself last and alone, for which she was not sorry ; so draw-
ing the hood of her burnous over her head, and folding a
thick shawl across her chest, she waited a few minutes that
the crowd might disperse, as there was but one way of egress.
But she was not many minutes alone when Trafford came
quickly into the room, and offering his arm, said decidedly^
" I am to take care of you."
Maggie took it in silence.
The whole of the evening Trafford had revolved in his own
mind the subtle though perceptible change in her voice and
manner : the undefinable something that had come or gone ;
and he had eagerly seized the chance of a few words with
her. But what could he say ? He certainly could not help
associating her altered tone with that mysterious visit of Ma-
4i6 THE WOOING O'T.
dame De Beaumanoir to Grantham, though no positive mis-
chief had come of it, for the favorite secretary was evidently
in greater favor than ever. Probably the Frenchwoman's
evil eye had never fallen upon her. However, now that her
arm was fairly within his, his attention was diverted by the
excessive tremor that seemed to pervade her whole frame and
which she could not subdue.
" What is the matter ? You must be ill ? You have been
over-fatigued, and no doubt worried ? " He looked down at
her with real grave interest that she was vexed to think that
she must doubt
" Pray do not imagine anything of the kind. I am quite
well only a little over-excited. I was so delighted that Miss
Grantham had such success. How beautifully she sang."
" She did. I felt enthusiastic about her for five minutes
myself she really is a fine creature, though awfully spoiled.
Stand in this corner a moment or two, Miss Grey, and the
crowd will be quite gone."
Trafford placed her in a sheltered nook, and wrapped her
shawl closer rouad, and said how well she had played, and
how proud old Monsieur Du Val would be to hear her ; and
Maggie listened in silence, longing to cry to him not to speak
to her so kindly and considerately or she must burst into tears.
Then she suddenly remembered Miss Grantham's doubts and
possible jealousy, and she began to wish Mr. Trafford had
not come back to her. So in the midst of one of his pleas-
ant sentences, while he was looking at her with a sort of
intensity which seemed always to come into his eyes, while he
looked, she exclaimed, " Do let us go, Mr. Trafford," so pite-
ously, that he, deciding something was very wrong, and
drawing her arm once more through his own, led her quickly
down stairs and into the outer hall, where through the open
door they could see the clear cold night a long shimmering
path of moonlight on the sea. But all poor Maggie's trials
were not yet over. At the door stood a lady in a much beflow-
ered bonnet, and a red China crape shawl, and beside her a
tall, broad shouldered man in a big white top-coat, with a
huge display of white velvet in collars and cuffs, tartan trou-
sers of the largest pattern, and a red woolen scarf filling up
between the brim of his hat and the top of his velvet collar.
Scarce seeing them, Maggie was hurrying past, when the tall
stranger suddenly started forward, and laying a rather heavy
hand on her shoulder, exclaimed, " I say, Madam Mag ! I
little thought I should find you figuring before the public.
THE WOOING OT. 417
What's kept you ? The othars have gone home this half
hour ! "
Even though she recognized his voice, the apparition of
Cousin John was so appalling that Maggie, already unhinged,
clung tightly to Trafford, who, perhaps as unconsciously,
clasped her arm closely to his side.
" John ! Is it possible ? " she exclaimed, recovering her-
self. " I can hardly believe my eyes."
" And I," returned John, in a rugged, domineering manner,
" can hardly believe mine. Come, I want to talk to you a
bit. I will see you home."
" Miss Grey," said Trafford, his clear, full, refined tones
sounding so strangely different from John's ill-tempered
voice, " Miss Grey is really very much over-fatigued, and
was just hurrying on to join Miss Grantham, so "
" Hurrying ?" cried John, with a sneer. " I suppose Miss
Grey can speak to her own cousin and nearest friend, with-
out you for an interpreter."
Maggie was filled with dismay. That Cousin John, whom
she would fain have respected, should speak so outrageously
so unwarrantably and imply such jealousy, was too
mortifying.
Trafford, quite unmoved, looked at him with calm curiosity,
and Maggie, eager to preserve John from any further display
of bad taste and bad temper, withdrew her arm, with an
unconsciously despairing look at Trafford.
" Yes, yes, my dear John, I shall be very pleased to talk to
you as we go across to Miss Grantham ; but I cannot stay.
I am obliged to go in to supper. Pray do not wait, Mr.
Trafford ; perhaps you would be so good as to tell Miss
Grantham that I have met my cousin."
Trafford hesitated.
" Law, Mr. Trafford ! " cried the lady in the red shawl,
" we had best leave it to themselves to make up. Bless your
heart, it will all be right before you can say Jack Robinson."
"Mrs. Berry," said Trafford, readily turning aside the
awkwardness of the moment by speaking to her, " I am sur-
prised to find you here. It is a long time since I had th
pleasure of seeing you."
" You are very good, I am sure ; but pleasure is a thing I
have lost sight of altogether. Ah ! it's changed times with
me."
" Very sorry indeed to hear it."
24
4i8 THE WOOING O'T.
" Pray go on to Miss Grantham," implored Maggie, who
began to feel very uneasy.
" As you wish," said he, raising his hat to Mrs. Berry, and
walked quickly away.
" Well, you are a pretty humbug, you are ! " cried John, as
they prepared to follow. " You were hurrying on to join the
others, were you ? You did not even know where my fine
gentleman was when we met in London, and then, after
coming down here to see you, and no end of inconvenience,
I find you cuddled up under his arm. You are a heartless
little thing."
" How dare you speak to me like this ? I have done
nothing wrong; nothing that you have any right to be
offended with."
" Come, come, Mr. Grey, you are not so used to this class
of society as I am," said Mrs. Berry, with a patronizing air.
" It was all correct enough. You really need not vex your
self."
" And I am so sorry that you should be annoyed, John,"
added Maggie, really anxious to mollify him. 1 " I am very
unfortunate in vexing you, for I only want to please you."
" Well," cried John, " you have a queer way of going
about it."
. " At all events," returned Maggie," I must go back, or
Miss Grantham will be vexed."
" Yes, yes," said Mrs. Berry, " I understand all that. " It
might be as much as her place is worth."
" I must see you to-morrow," continued Maggie.
" I should think you must," growled John.
" But where ? " said Maggie, reflectively, " I have not a
room to myself here."
" Oh law, Maggie ! don't bother about that," cried Mrs.
Berry. " Ain't you welcome to my parlor ? You two come
and have a quiet talk there any time you like."
" Thank you, dear Mrs. Berry ; that will do charmingly."
" All right," said John, beginning to feel the soothing
influence of Maggie's smiles. " And don't you be later than
eleven, remember, for I must go up to town by the 3 o'clock
express."
" I will be punctual," said Maggie.
"And now come away; we'll leave you at home, and
perhaps Mr. Giey won't mind taking an oyster and a drop of
porter with me, though it is in a down-stairs parlor," observed
Mrs. Berry.
THE WOOING &T. 415
" I believe you," returned that individual. " You are a
deuced good soul to ask me."
Meantime Trafford walked away, much annoyed and
embittered with himself and ever)' one else. Why had he
been such an infernal idiot as to come back to play with such
edged tools as his feelings for that provoking little girl ?
who was not over glad to see him. It served him right,
though, to be excruciated by seeing her clutched away by
such a ruffian. By Jove, Torchester had an escape ! Fancy
calling a brute like that your cousin ! Poor girl, after all it
was rather hard lines for her to be so much above her own
people, yet tied to them. To think of a sweet, gentle creature
like her, the secret pangs of whose thoughtful soul he had
often, in more romantic moments, longed to read, being
afraid of a half-civilized animal like that! It was too
dreadful ! And she was frightened ! How tightly, how
naturally, she had clung to him. And he thought of her pale
cheeks, and cold little trembling hands, with much the same
tenderness which a deserted child would call forth, dashed
with a strong passionate yearning for all the divine woman-
love he felt she could give. How idiotically weak it was of
him to come back ! And now he could not go till he had
cleared up the mystery of her change toward him.
Here he entered the brilliantly lighted hall of Miss Grant-
ham's house. Genteelly toned, suave flunkeys took his hat ;
the major-domo (Johnson), obsequious as to his master-elect,
whispered that supper had not yet been served, and opened
the door, announcing " Mr Trafford," with an importance
he lent to no other name.
Miss Grantham was standing near Lady Brockhurst, for, to
do the heiress justice, she completely merged the rival in the
hostess, and surrounded by all the gentlemen except Lord
Torchester, who was talking to Miss Stamer and the duchess.
Trafford paused to exchange remarks with Lady Dormer,
as the least intellectual and objectionable of the party. He
felt, however, that Miss Grantham's eye was on him, and she
was soon near him.
" Aunt Dormer, what has become of Miss Grey ? She
must have been left behind."
" Dear me, how provoking ! Send some one ring for some
one."
" I do not think you need distress yourself," said Trafford.
" I left Miss Grey talking to Mrs. Berry and a gentleman in
4*0 THE WOOING O'T.
a white coat, from London. She desired me to say she
would be with you in a few minutes."
" You do not mean to say ' Cousin John ' has reappeared ? "
" I imagine it is that ubiquitous individual. Margaret, I
always knew you sang well ; but I never felt you were a siren
till to-night."
" Fidonc ! as Madame Beaumanoir used to say," returned
Miss Grantham, with a lovely brilliant smile, and deeply
gratified she returned to her stranger guests.
" A right royal beautiful woman," thought Trafford, as he
looked after her. " Now, why can I not fall in love with her ?
I dare say she is a great deal too good for me but I can-
not."
Supper was announced, and though Trafford did not see
her join them, Maggie was opposite to him at table, between
Mr. Fitzalan and one of the nameless Philharmonicas, who
talked thorough-bass across her during the greater part of
the evening. She looked very pale at first, and took a glass
of water rather eagerly as soon as she could induce the pre-
occupied Fitzalan to give her one. She looked sad and
distrait, too, till suddenly catching Trafford's eye, as he
watched with an air of amusement the utter neglect of her
neighbors, a bright arch answering smile flickered over her
face.
" It is too bad, Miss Grey," he said, " to have music both
at concert and supper. I suppose I am right in thinking Mr.
Fitzalan's abstruse science a little beyond you ? "
" More than a little," said Maggie, shaking her head.
" Ah, really, I beg your pardon," cried Mr. Fitzalan, sud-
denly recalled to a sense of his duties. " Do you want
Anything ? " looking round bewildered.
" No, thank you ; I have had everything."
" I am sure you played very nicely, Miss Grey," said good-
natured Lady Dormer, whom Trafford had elected to escort
" I wonder you did, you were so frightened about it."
" Very nicely, indeed," echoed Mr. Fitzalan, patronizingly.
" In fact Miss Grantham's song was remarkably well accom-
panied. Curious how these sort of songs always carry away
an audience."
" I think it would be curious if they did not," said Traf-
ford. " You have a charming air, full of melody, and words
conveying a simple, natural sentiment, neither too high noi
too low to touch any one's heart, or whatever it is that
responds to sentiment"
THE WOOING OT. .421
" Very true ; but then divine harmonies are so often
received with utter coldness. Now that fugue " and again
the learned amateurs plunged into science.
It was a most agreeable, successful party. Every one was
pleased and in good spirits. Had the members of it been a
little less well bred they would have been noisy ; but Maggie
thought it would never end she was dazed and weary : she
would gladly have excused herself, but feared to draw down
any remarks on her absence ; moreover, she had just reached
the hall as Miss Grantham with Mr. Fitzalan was following
her guests into the dining-room. She was immediately
pounced upon, and sent in with the cavalier, whom her pleas-
ant mistress wished to get rid of, so she was obliged to sit it
out. However, all things have an end, and at last all were
gone except Mrs. Stamer, her daughers, Lord Torchester,
Colonel Molyneux, and Mr. Trafford; and Maggie, not
supposing her absence would be observed, moved quietly
away to the door ; but between her and it stood Trafford,
looking over one of the programmes, while the rest gathered
round the fire in eager discussion of the events of the eve-
ning.
*' You are glad to steal away, I imagine," said he, as she
approached him.
" I am, indeed."
" I hope you were successful in allaying the wrath of that
gentleman your cousin, I think ? "
" Yes, he is my Cousin John, and and I was quite shocked
at the way he spoke ; he is a kind, true-hearted man, but very
rough."
Trafford smiled.
" I can make large allowance for him, poor fellow ! So you
appeased and dismissed him ? "
" No, indeed," replied Maggie, with an unconscious sigh.
" I must see him to-morrow morning before he leaves."
" And you would rather not ? " said Trafford, quickly.
" No, not exactly, You know he was once my only friend,
and I am not ungrateful or unchangeable."
" Not unchangeable ? I think you can change, Miss Grey,
very delicately, very indefinably, yet not imperceptibly."
Maggie looked up astonished at his remark, a little nettled,
a little gratified, yet longing to run away.
" I hardly understand you, and I am far too tired to try, so
good-night, Mr. Trafford," and she slipped past him without
offering her hand.
4 a2 THE WOOING O'T.
" Hardly understands me ? " repeated Trafford to himself ;
" she is too true to deny all understanding, and I will solve
the mystery before many days are over." Then he joined
Miss Grantham, and in answer to her inquiries, gave an
amusing account of his rambles in Ireland, and at last every
one was gone.
" Where is Miss Grey ? " asked Miss Grantham, tired out
with excitement and gratified vanity.
" Gone to bed, mademoiselle, with a bad headache."
" Ah ! I rather fancy her cousin bores her," thought the
heiress.
No guilty wretch about to take his trial for some of the
smaller misdemeanors could have felt more sick at heart than
did poor Maggie when she tied on her hat the mor-ning after
the concert. She knew perfectly well she was going to
mortify and disappoint the uncouth friend, who, in spite of
his annoying and disagreeable ways, she loved sincerely. If
Mrs. Berry would stay by her it would be an immense help,
She would ask her.
As she walked quickly down the Esplanade she found her-
self face to face with Trafford, who was strolling in an
opposite direction, with a cigar in his mouth, which he threw
away and turned with her.
" How is Miss Grantham after last night's triumphs ? "
" Well, quite well ; she is just going to breakfast, and I
dare say would see you.''
" I will let her eat her breakfast first. This is rather an
unfinished place. I have been cruising about, and think the
fishermen have the best of it."
" Yes ; there is something a little more picturesque in their
village than in the Royal Esplanade."
"And what is our unfortunate friend, Mrs. Berry, do-
ing?"
" She has a house, a very pretty house, with a nice peep
of the village, and lets lodgings. Mrs. Stamer has her
rooms now."
" Indeed ! Whereabouts ? "
" Close here, Esplanade Villas. I am going there "
" Oh ! " a wonderfully expressive " Oh ! " revealing a full
knowledge of why she was going, and bringing the color
quickly to Maggie's cheek. " I expected you to be in the
doctor's hands after your fright last night, Miss Grey, and I
cannot say much for your looks this morning. You ought not
to have come out so early."
THE WOOING aT. 423
This was said kindly but not too earnestly, and Maggie
felt puzzled why he should trouble himself remarking her
looks, while she was desperately anxious to prevent his es-
corting her to Mrs. Berry's door, which, as he had nothing
else to do, he possibly might. Suppose they were overtaken
by John ! The idea was too appalling ; and, in dread of such
a catastrophe, she exclaimed abruptly, with the curious mix-
ture of shyness and certainty that he would understand her,
which she always experienced in speaking to him, " I wish
you would turn back. Do not come any further with me."
She looked steadily away while she spoke.
" Why must I turn back ? " began Trafford, really vexed
at having this little tete-a-tete walk broken up ; then, vexed
with himself for vexing her, he added, laughing good-
humoredly, " I am very audacious to dispute your orders, and
I ought to remember I am under Cousin John's ban." He
stopped, raised his hat, and let her go on, which she did
hastily, her composure by no means increased by his obser-
vations. Was it not inconsiderate and impertinent of him to
talk of being under " Cousin John's ban ? " It implied con-
sciousness of his (John's) jealousy. Yet how kind and sweet
his manner was when he spoke of her being startled ! Ah !
would it ever be her lot to have a right to such gentle dis-
criminating kindness ? And telling herself she was a goose, a
weak sentimentalist, she walked rapidly to Mrs. Berry's door,
which was opened for her by that excellent person.
" I am sure I am thankful you have come. He has been
here these twenty minutes. Now there's nothing ails him
but jealousy. Law, Maggie, you are not such a fool as to
give half an eye to that Trafford ? I declare, your cou-
sin has near persuaded me that there is something between
you."
" Mrs. Berry," cried Maggie, in despair, " if you, who know
all about us both so well, can believe such nonsense, what
shall I do ? Pray believe me, I have not spoken twice alone
to Mr. Trafford since we met in Paris. It is cruel, it is in- .
jurious to believe such outrageous nonsense."
" Well, there, I don't," said Mrs. Berry. " Now you go
and talk to him ; and mind my words, Margaret Grey, don't
you go turning up your nose at another good offer, for it's a
chance if you will get a third."
" Do come with me, will you not ? "
" Not I ; it's small thanks your cousin would give me."
" Well, come in soon, dear Mrs. Berry."
4H THE WOOING O'T.
Cousin John was standing in his favorite position, with his
back to the fireless grate.
" Good-morning, John," said Maggie, kindly, and as brightly
as she could.
" Well, you are tolerably up to time, or I should have come
to look for you ; and now I hope you are in good reasonable
temper."
" Of course I am ; I always am," she replied, gaily, while
something of her last night's tremor came back upon her, for
John looked wrathful and resolute.
" I don't pretend to know rightly what you are, Maggie, and
for my life I can't believe you haven't some plot in your
head. However, I am that fond of you that I do not like to
give you up, though, perhaps, you do not deserve it. Any-
how, I am determined to give you another chance. Now, I
am going back to Algoa Bay in three weeks from this, and I
have not committed myself yet to Polly Banks. Once for all,
will you come with me ? "
" I would do anything else in the world for you, J ^hn, but
this. It would be wrong. I cannot feel to you as a wife ought.
You cannot think how it grieves me to say so, but is it not a
misfortune to me, too ? "
" Well, it's past my understanding ! '* said John, biting his
nails wickedly. ' Why, you that used to be so fond of me
when I was a great lumbering boy, can't put up with me now
I am "
The words " a fine young man " were nearly spoken, and
had they got into existence John would have stuck gallantly
to them ; nevertheless he managed to alter them into " a full-
grown man."
" And I am fond of you, dear John, only not just the way
you want. One of these days, when you are happy with a
wife that dotes on you, you will be quite glad you did not
marry me."
" Will I ? But it's not that altogether, little Mag," said
John, with more softness than usual. " It don't seem as if I
could leave you alone here to fight your own way. When I
am married I'll have my family to look after, and if I have
anything to spare it must be for the poor old governor. I tell
you, after this you will come last. Now, if you marry me
why then I have a wife, and you are provided for. It is such
wrong-headed folly to go against me and I am so fond of
you, Mag. I did not know how fond I was of you ! How is
it that I didn't change, as you have ? Many and many's th
THE WOOING OT. 425
night I have gone to sleep thinking of you, and longing to
see you and when I did, I liked you better than ever."
The tone of this speech, so different from John's ordinary
nigged, self-asserting orations, shook Maggie's soul. This
glimpse of the golden grains fused in with the hard quartz of
his nature, made her think for just one moment, " Could I
not grow to love him ? Could I not find more and more gold
in his nature ? " But his next words dispelled the idea, and
she took refuge in that last resort of weakness, a flood of
tears.
" What's the use of crying about it ? You would never be
so dead set against me if you did not think of some one else
a finer match, perhaps. But don't you be too sure. You
see it's not every one that's ready to marry a girl like you'
without anything though you are such a nice little thing
and yet no beauty either. Come, don't cry and make your-
self miserable ; say yes, and we'll be as jolly as we can be,"
and he tried to take her hand.
" No, dear John," said Maggie, trying hard to stop her
tears. " It cannot be. I am so grieved to disappoint you ;
but as to my future, never give it a thought. You have done
your best for me, and you can now conscientiously leave me
to my fate. I shall never forget "
" Now don't talk that sort of nonsense," cried John,
angrily ; " you'll not have me, and there's an end of it ; but if
you had not met that high and mighty swell, that Mr.
Trafford, you would have a different story to tell. Nothing
you can say will put it out of my mind that there is some
understanding between you. But, by , don't you be too
sure you understand him ; he may tell you a heap of lies,
but he'll never marry you ; and I'll be hanged if I leave this
place without making him explain himself. I am your nearest
of kin, and I'll just ask him what he means by hanging about
you continually."
John made an energetic gesture, as though to pounce on
his hat ; but Maggie, pale with terror, palpitating with
indignation, seized upon the head-gear, exclaiming with such
suppressed vehemence, " If you do so, you'll repent it all the
days of your life ! " that John paused. Whereupon Mrs.
Berry, who had conscientiously endeavored to fulfil Maggie's
injunction by listening at the door for the proper moment to
effect an entrance, walked in quickly.
" Hush 1 hush ! " said that lady in an alarmed tone.
426 THE WOOING O'T.
" We'll have the Honorable Mrs. S. ringing to know what's
the row. If you two can't agree, you'd better part."
"You may say what you like," reiterated John ; "but I
know that fellow has cut me out, and I'll have it out with
him this blessed day if he was the Prince of Wales."
" Oh, Mrs. Berry, speak to him ! Tell him the irreparable
mischief he would do me."
" Law bless your heart, Mr. Grey ! you want a straight
waistcoat if you think of such a thing ! You may trust me,
I've seen heaps of life I know what's what and I must say,
when we was meeting Trafford and the earl every day and
night in the highest circles in Paris, I never did see nothing
between 'em I mean Maggie and Mr. Trafford. They were
as cool as cucumbers ; she was always took up with the earl ;
and I would take my Bible oath as there's nothing between
'em. Why, there would be a regular bouleversement, a topsy-
turvying, to speak English, if you were so mad as to interfere
with Mr. Trafford. Miss Grantham would think there, I'd
better not say what she would think ; and Maggie would
be sent packing without warning or character. I am not
taking Maggie's part she is a foolish, unsatisfactory girl as
must be left to herself, but you had just better think no more
about her."
John thought moodily for a minute or two, and then, look-
ing at his watch, said, " You're about right. I'll be off.
Good-bye to you, Miss Maggie. When you see me again,
I'll be another woman's property," and taking up his hat,
John turned to leave the house.
" What ! without shaking hands without a kind word ? "
cried Maggie, interposing between him and the door. " I
cannot let you go like that," and to John's surprise she threw
her arms round him for a moment, " God bless you, and send
you good fortune, dear cousin ! " then letting him go, she ran
into a corner of the room to hide and stifle her tears.
John trusted himself with no backward glances, but
marched off steadily, without " Never so much as good-
morning to me," as Mrs. Berry observed. "Just like all
those men, when they have had their turn."
"Well, I'd like to know how long you are going to take on
and cry, Maggie ? making your eyes like boiled gooseberries,
and yourself not fit to be seen. Here, Susan shall give you
some cold water in the kitchen, and you bathe your face and
try and look Christian-like before you go back. 1 can tell
you, Miss Grantham puts up with more than I would, though
THE WOOING O'T. 4*7
I was always fond of you, Maggie, and am ; and that's the
reason I am out of all patience with you a saint couldn't
stand you ? Afraid of meeting John ? Well, you needn't.
He'll be having a chop and something 'ot before he starts ;
and I hope they'll give it him 'ot and strong, poor fellow ! A
man was never so much in love yet that a bite and a drop
would not comfort him ! Don't want to meet any one ?
Well, slip out through the garden and up by the crags, and
you can get in the back way. Now cheer up. Who knows
but the right man will come at last ? "
Miss Grantham was engaged with Lord Torchester and
Miss Stamer when Maggie reached the house, so she had
ample time to recover herself before she was obliged to join
the party at luncheon. It was unusually large, for besides
Miss Stamer and Lord Torchester, Colonel Molyneux, Mr.
Trafford, and Sir Hugh Erskine had dropped in. Maggie,
therefore, thought herself safe from observation, as no one
seemed to take any notice of her. She heard of various
projects. Drives and rides. She listened vaguely, then
suddenly she heard Sir Hugh Erskine say, " And you are
quite determined to undertake such a journey to leave
England and all its attractions ? Why it will take you a
couple of years."
" I don't see that there is anything to keep me anywhere,"
said Trafford, easily, " and I like movement."
" Why don't you go up in a balloon ? " asked the earl.
" He will be weeping like Alexander for more worlds to
explore," cried Miss Grantham, with heightened color.
" Come, Mary, we have scarcely time to dress and walk to the
top of the Head. Tor, you must really send for your horses
there is nothing tolerable in the way of scenery within a
walk."
Maggie followed Miss Grantham into her own room, who
asked, " Will you not come with us ? "
" I would rather not that is, if you do not want me."
" No, no. You had better stay at home ; you look ill and
fretted. You have had a stormy meeting with your cousin ? "
" Yes, but he is gone."
" Tant mieux. I think cousins are born to be the plague
of one's life ! Do you know what Geoff Trafford's new plan
is ? To travel from Constantinople through Persia, or over
some part of the Himalayas, into Peshawur. He'll not do
it no one ever did. He'll die on the road. But he shan't
go. No, not an inch ! Did you hear the cool, provoking
428 THE WOOING O'T.
wretch, at limcheon just now, say there was nothing to keep
him in England ? Absolutely telling Sir Hugh that the game
was in his hand ! I will vex them both before the day is
over. Maggie I think you fancy he would not like me to
marry Sir Hugh could you not manage to confide to Geof
f rey your fear that I intended doing so ? "
" But you would not think of such a thing ? "
" I do not know. I sometimes feel as if I could do any-
thing anything to startle Geoffrey out of his quiet, indiffer-
ent, reasonable kindness ! There, it is three o'clock ; I must
go." But after leaving the room, Miss Grantham suddenly
returned, and putting her head in at the door, seid abruptly
and authoritatively, " You had better not say anything to Mr.
Trafford ; have nothing to say to him ! "
" I certainly shall not, if I can possibly help it," thought
Maggie, with what she considered strong resolution. More
and more she felt what dangerous ground it was where they
trod together; for, however unattractive Cousin John might
consider her to men in general, Mr. Trafford had thought her
worth forfeiting some engagement which ought to be more
congenial and that only to do her a kindness, and enjoy a
little quiet conversation, for she knew there was no approach
to love-making. Alas ? that he should have talked thought-
lessly of that to her, sacred passage ! Never could she think
of him again, or trust him in the way she once did. And
yet, strange and improbable as it seemed, Mr. Trafford did
think about her, and understand her ; perhaps he would love
her were she in his own station, but as she was not, was
wisely resisting such folly ; and not by the smallest display
of her own feelings would she weaken him. Let him match
with his own ; she would not stretch out a finger to him.
Yet he need not have mentioned that one little imprudence
vhich she had most unconsciously committed. And then she
nrgued back through the whole circle, this time arriving at
the conclusion that she was the most conceited little idiot in
existence, to imagine such a man would give her a serious
thought ; and so, for the fiftieth time she determined to- think
110 more of him.
That Cousin John had gone away in a rage was trouble
enough, without tormenting herself about a stranger, who had
in some mysterious manner got mixed up in her humble life.
She was now, indeed, alone, but for her sincere affection for
Miss Grantham ; and even as regarded her there was a tinge
ot apprehension, as a sort of shadow dimly shaping eviL
THE WOOING O'T. 429
CHAPTER XXXII.
" TORCHESTER," said Miss Grantham one wet morning a
few days after the concert, as the earl was grumbling at the
weather, Miss Stamer embroidering a smoking cap, and the
heiress herself pretending to touch up a sketch. " Torches-
ter, is Geoff really going to these unpronounceable places ? "
" I suppose he is. He is gone up to town to-day about
some of his preparations."
" Gone up to town ! Why he never said a word about it
last night ! "
" Oh ! he is coming back to-morrow ; he is going to bring
his horses with him. He wants to explore the country.
Don't you think it is utter madness, his rushing about in this
way ? "
" Yes, it is a pity ; but there is no use in talking about it.
After all a man has a right to please himself ; but I shall
miss him the worst of any of you. Though I believe he
treats me rather as an unlicked cub, I can't help being fond
of Geoff."
" Oh, Lord Torchester! how can you say such things ? "
" It's the truth. Fact is, the older I grow the better I can
stand his patronage."
" In short, your heart's in the right place. Tor, wherever
your head may be," said Miss Grantham.
" Which means I am a good-natured simpleton."
" No, no," she returned, laughing ; " you have grown aw-
fully knowing of late."
" That is, since I have learned how to fall in and out of
love."
" How long have you known the art ? " asked Miss Grant-
ham, looking sideways to see the effect of some touches on
her drawing.
" I have had two bad attacks since I came of age ; one was
suddenly and completely cured by the obduracy of the ob-
ject."
At this Miss Stamer raised her eyes with a look of utter
surprise and unbelief, beautiful to behold.
" Mary evidently doubts that fate could permit such things
to be," Said Miss Grantham, laughing.
430 THE WOOING OT.
" How can you say such things, dear Margaret ? "
"But pray continue your confessions, Tor. What staga
are you in now ? "
" Regaining strength and reason rapidly ; and, for a com-
plete cure, have serious thoughts of trying change of air un-
der Geoff's charge."
"Now lam quite sure you will do nothing of the kind.
You are intended by nature for a pillar of the state, to uphold
the family credit at Mount Trafford, and Conservative princi-
ples in the House, to be solidly useful, and be the pride of
your mother's existence."
" Instead of singing an adorable second, cruising about in
a theatrical yachting costume, cultivating fascinations, and
working hard for high honors as a critic of beauty, form, color,
and all the rest ! "
" Now, Torchester, that's too unblushing an attack on
poor Sir Hugh, who is very nice and pleasant."
"Nice," repeated the earl. "What a queer feminine word
nice is. Fancy a fellow like Erskine who thinks himself a
mixture of Adonis and Apollo or what's his name, Bulwer's
heroes all in one, being called nice, like a pigeon pie or a
new bonnet. I do not think he would like it."
" Do you think I would wear a bonnet that deserved no
better praise than ' nice ? ' Far from it, my lord. It must be
ravissante, delicious. But you are really too bad, to talk of
going away when Sir Hugh has promised to bring his yacht
round next week, and we intend to wind up our sojourn with
a cruise somewhere."
" I hope it will be weather permitting. This would be a
pleasant day at sea."
*' Oh, of course ! Are you going, Mary ? " for Miss Stamer
rose from her seat."
" Yes, it looks a little lighter, and I promised mamma to be
back at three."
" I will see you to-morrow before we go to the duchess'
dinner. I imagine it will be very slow."
" Good-bye, then."
Miss Grantham resumed her drawing, and Lord Torchester
looked out of the window.
"Torchester," she said at length, "you are not going to
follow Geoffrey's bad example and become a wanderer on
the face of the earth ? "
" Not quite ; but I do think of accompanying him part of
the way. You see I don't care much for society, that is,
THE WOOING VT. 431
dancing and singing and attitudinizing. If I begin to settle
down in London and Mount Trafford I will never move, and
J want to see a little more of the world first."
" I can understand that," said Miss Grantham, putting away
her drawing and coming round to the fire ; " but what am I to
clo when you are both gone ? Why Geoff is like well, my
uncle and you are like my brother. I shall be quite deserted
by my male relatives, and I shall make some frightful misalli-
ance in your absence."
" You will do as you like on that score, whether we are ab-
sent or not : and as to relationship, you may consider Geoff
what you choose ; but I am not like a brother to you, and
never could be, which you know right well."
" Nonsense, Tor ! " said Miss Grantham, with a sweet, low
laugh ; she always liked being made love to, and her cousin's
earnest sledge-hammer style amused her.
" Don't talk in that way, it is uncomfortable. But I really
cannot spare you ; you know I am very fond of you."
" You may be in your own way, but that does not suit ro^,"
" Well, perhaps your way does not suit me ? "
" Perhaps so ; then there is no use wasting words, and I
had better go."
" Where ? To your hotel ? or the Himalayas ? No, don't
go, dear cousin," and she laid her hand on his arm with a
smile so arch and sweet that had he been less earnest, would
have been irresistible. " It is pleasant to quarrel sometimes."
" Margaret ! you have no conscience ! You do not care a
straw about me, yet you would like to keep me in your train.
But if you think I am going to waste my life in that way, you
are very much mistaken. I wish you did not think yourself
such a genius. You have cleverness enough for two women,
I believe ; but you do not see too clearly for all that, and you
are such a fine warm-hearted creature that I shall be confound-
edly cut up if you marry a scamp, or any one. No, I'll not
stay any longer; for I will not make a fool of myself which
would just please you." And seizing his hat, the earl stalked
away.
" Now, any one else would at least have kissed my hand,"
said Miss Grantham to herself with a smile, looking after him.
" He is wonderfully improved ! I did not think there was so
much 'go ' in him. He will not make a fool of himself.
That's a tolerably exalted resolution, I wonder if he will
keep it. I must tell Maggie Grey of Tor's outbreak."
Easter was now close at hand. Miss Grantham talked of
432 THE WOOING O'T.
spending it at the Longmores, leaving Maggie in town, and our
young friend was not unwilling to leave Eastnor, although a
few bright warm days had lent it much beauty. Sir Hugh Ers-
kine had reappeared with his yacht, and Maggie was left more
than ever to her own and Lady Dormer's society. Although
Miss Grantham always showed the utmost confidence in and
reliance upon her, yet she could not display the same flatter-
ing adoration which the Miss Stamers constantly offered up,
and her company could therefore be more easily dispensed
with.
John Grey had made no sign, but one morning, about ten
days after his disappearance Maggie was honored by an epis-
tle from Aunt Grey herself, detailing the impending marriage
of John and Miss Banks, just a week before they were to sail
for the Cape, and setting forth the advantages of the marriage,
the satisfaction it was to Mr. Grey, the pleasant family con-
nection, etc., etc., concluding with wishes that Maggie would
be at the wedding, which was to be very quiet, only Bell and
Jemima going up to it.
" Well, that is finished," thought Maggie, " Cousin John
will tease me no more, and I have lost him."
She immediately wrote a long congratulatory letter in reply,
not mentioning John's unexpected appearance at Eastnor, and
when it was despatched she felt as if one chapter in the story
of her life was ended.
Miss Grantham was at home that evening, which meant that
all the habitubs of the house were there also. Maggie had
been playing for Miss Grantham and sir Hugh Erskine, and
was talking aside to the heiress, who said in a low voice, " Do
you know Geoff rey Trafford is come back? Cdcile saw him
as she was working in my bedroom window. I am so glad
she warned me. I shall be as stiff and cold as possible. I
suppose he will be here presently with Torchester ; perhaps
he has come to carry him off ! "
" I think from what you described to me the other day, it
will not be so easy to carry him off "
" Lord Torchester and Mr. Trafford," announced a footman.
Miss Grantham swept away, and Maggie took refuge with
Miss Stamer, a plain, good-humored kindly girl, not much no-
ticed by any one. The evening was almost over before Traf-
ford made his way to them, and then after a few words of sal-
utation, he said, " We have been discussing about black eyet
and their rarity. Do you know that a true black eye is verj
seldom seen ?
THE WOOING O'T. 433
"Why, I know numbers of black-eyed people. There is
Sir Hugh Erskine, and and yourself, Mr. Trafford," said
Miss Stamen
" I deny that Erskine's eyes are black, only in expression,"
said Maggie. ,
" Isn't that horridly satirical, Mr. Trafford ? Now, don't
you think Mr. Trafford's eyes are black ? "
" They are not black," said Maggie, quietly, without looking
up from a tangled mass of crochet, which, as was not unusual,
she was putting in order for Lady Dormer.
" The most really black eyes I ever saw," resumed Trafford
" are Madame De Beaumanoir's. Did you happen to see her
when she was at Southam, Miss Grey ? " he added, carelessly.
" I did indeed, and shall not soon forget her eyes ; for
she flashed such a look upon me that, only I knew my insig-
nificance was my safeguard, I should have trembled for my
life. I wonder why she looked at me in so strange a manner !
Perhaps it was my imagination, for she was very agreeable
afterward." When she paused Maggie looked up, and found
Trafford's eyes were upon her with fixed attention and some
curiosity.
" And you found her improve on acquaintance ? "
" I only saw her once the day before she left when Miss
Grantham drove her back to Southam."
Trafford made no reply for a moment, and then said,
" Yes ; she could be very agreeable. Well, good night, Miss
Stamer. I shall tell Erskine you consider him a happy
example of black eyes, and Miss Grey's heresies I shall keep
to myself. You do not know, perhaps, that she is a red
republican, cleverly disguised ? "
Maggie laughed, and Miss Stamer exclaimed, " No, really ? "
as Trafford left them. " One never knows whether Mr.
Trafford is in jest or earnest," added Miss Stamer.
It was a clear moonlight night, almost warm for the early
season. " Let us have a cigar here before we turn in," said
the earl, as they came out on the broad walk in front of the
sea. Trafford assented, and after a short silence the earl
began to detail his grievances. He was so annoyed and
" riled " by Margaret Grantham's conduct. She was so flighty,
so imprudent " encouraging that fellow Erskine, who is a
thorough scamp ! " Would Geoffrey speak to her advise
her?
" No. It would only make matters worse. Margaret must
have her head. It seems risky, but I think she will pull
a
434 THE W9OING OT.
through and come right. You see her instincts are all sound;
and then Miss Grey, of whom she is very fond, is dead
against Sir Hugh. She is not without her influence on Mar-
garet."
" I think I would rather shoot that fellow than let him
marry her."
" I should not hesitate a moment, had I the choice," said
Trafford, calmly. " But Torchester, it strikes me that your
anxiety on the subject shows you are not averse to your
mother's views ; in short, that you are considerably smitten
with our fair cousin."
"I am that is, I am not an idiot, as I was about little
Maggie Grey. I seemed to have lived years since that ; but
it would be so suitable and satisfactory, and we should be
settled and at rest ; but she does not care a rap about me.
And yet she has a way of keeping you on. Now, do you
think she would have put me straight as Miss Grey did, if she
had been in her place ? Not she ! She would have torn me
to pieces with her vagaries."
" I do not think Margaret would marry any one merely for
rank or riches ; but she is a widely different character," said
Trafford. "Don't you find it rather queer being so often
with your old and your new love ? "
" Not a bit," said the earl stoutly. Miss Grey is such a
straightforward little brick, that I never fear her letting out
anything, or even thinking anything uncomfortable. I made
rather a mistake, and she had more sense than to fall into it.
I shall always be her friend ; but she is a nice, sweet girl of
course, not comparable to a splendid high-bred creature like
Margaret ; and I hope I shall see her with a good husband
yet." A long pause. " Do you think I had better give up
and be off ? " said the earl at length. " What would you
advise ? "
" Patience and perseverance. Do not seem eager, but do
not be discouraged. It is a prize worth waiting for."
" Do you think I have any chance ? "
" Could not possibly say. I wish you luck."
" Do you know, Geoff, I have sometimes thought she was
fond of you ? "
" Pooh nonsense ! She would like to victimize me, like
every one else that's all."
" Well, I will go in," said the earl. " Good-night."
Trafford lit another cigar, and strolled up and down in deep
thought. " Tastes differ," he meditated. " I prefer a violet
THE WOOING OT. 435
to a magnolia." On the whole he felt better pleased than he
had been for some time ; he fancied he had got the clue to the
mysterious coldness in Maggie's manner, which he could not
help attributing to Madame De Beaumanoir. There had
been mischief in that woman's eyes, too, when he had seen
her in London mischief he could not understand and on this
he had pondered deeply ; but how could he ascertain what
she had said or done ? He dared not broach the subject to
Miss Grantham ; it would rouse her suspicions, and make a
trifle too much importance; and then to approach it with
Maggie would be dangerous delicious, but distressing to her.
And yet he would not, and could not, lie under the suspicion
of having breathed a word, a whisper, that could injure her, or
even seem to treat lightly that which he wished her to feel was
a sweet and sared recollection ; but now that he had discov-
ered she had met that infernal, mischief -making woman, one
part of the way was clear, and he would not quit Eastnor till
Maggie fully understood that he was as true as herself, " and
that is saying a good deal," thought Trafford, puffing his cigar
rather energetically. " True, and sweet and bright, and yet
I am kept back from striving to win what I long for, as I
never longed before, by a mere phantom obstacle ! Is this
wisdom, or is it folly ? "
Two days after there was a grand entertainment given by
Mrs. McGrabbit, the resident social head of Eastnor, who
was resolved not to let slip such a golden opportunity of re-
ceiving real bond fide grandees at her house. She had care-
fully improved the splendid opening offered by the concert,
and was rewarded, for her invitations were generally accepted
by the brilliant company " now enlivening our charming little
town with their presence," as the Eastnor Chronicle a?id East
Sussex Register remarked.
Mr. Trafford, however, was away. He had ridden the pre-
vious day across the country, to dine and sleep at a bachelor
friend's house in Kent, and was not expected to return till
the day after.
Miss Grantham had departed, and Lady Dormer sat down
to a quiet game of backgammon with Maggie. Her ladyship
had won two hits, and was quite lively and wide awake.
" I think I am in luck to-night," she said. Shall we try an-
other ? "
" By all means, Lady Dormer."
So they recommenced. Lady Dormer was pondering
deeply how she should manage an awkward trieze ace without
436 THE WOOING O'T.
leaving a man uncovered, when to their great surprise, Mr.
Trafford was announced.
" I had no idea you would return to-day," said Lady Dormer,
holding out one hand, but still grasping the dice-box in the
other. " Margaret is gone, and you are rather late."
" I do not intend joining the party, if you will allow me to
stay here. I found my host was going to town to-day, so I
was obliged to leave. Don't let me disturb your game. You
have the evening papers ; I will look at them."
Trafford drew a low easy-chair to the table, and took up a
paper. Lady Dormer and Maggie resumed their game, and
Trafford occasionally offered advice impartially, or imparted
scraps of news. At length Lady Dormer brought the game
to a triumphant conclusion.
" There is no use contending with you to-night, Lady Dor-
mer," said Maggie, smiling. I feel disheartened."
" Du courage" said Trafford. ' Heureux auj'ou, malheut
reux en amour which is the most important game. Come,
Lady Dormer, rest upon your laurels. There is a very inter-
esting article on the prospects of the French Empire. I will
read it to you if you like."
" I am sure you are very good, Mr. Trafford. I shall be
delighted."
Lady Dormer settled herself in her chair, Maggie
noiselessly removed the backgammon-board and the small
table that held it, and Trafford began. It was a long, dry,
rambling disquisition on the resources and racial tendencies
of the French, and, in spite of his pleasant, expressive voice,
Trafford managed to read monotonously.
Maggie much surprised at his unusual readiness to enter-
tain Lady Dormer, placed herself near the lamp at the cen-
tre-table, took up her piece of drawing-room work, and sat a
few minutes listening and thinking. Presently Mr. Trafford
ceased reading, and laid down the paper. Maggie looked up
quickly. Lady Dormer lay back, as far as her chair would
let her, sound asleep ; and as Trafford's eyes met hers, Mag-
gie vexed though she had been, could not surpress a quick,
amused smile.
" Comfortable, is she not ? " said Trafford.
"Very, and deeply interested."
Trafford drew his chair forward a little, and putting his
elbow on the table, rested his head on his hand. There was
a moment's silence, which, in spite of her mental effort for
profound composure, made Maggie desperately nervous.
THE WOOING OT. 437
" Have you not finished that piece of work yet, Miss
Grey ?"
He remembered then that she used to work point lace in
Paris.
" It is another piece."
" I think you told me I was to have the first fruits of that
needle-case, but I have not seen them yet."
" No ; I could not begin the purse, or cap, or whatever it
was to be, at the time and then " a pause.
" You began to think me undeserving ? "
This was so exactly the truth, that Maggie colored, hesitat-
ed, and then attempted to excuse herself.
" Of course I ought "
" Pray do not try any prevarications ; they will not come
readily to you. Your face tells me that I have hit on the
truth."
" It is desperately hard to be quite true," said Maggie,
" and yet it is absolutely stupid to be anything else."
She spoke for the sake of speaking, feeling that Trafford
was looking at her, to avoid an embarrassed silence.
Trafford threw a quick glance at Lady Dormer she was
fast and then said rather abruptly :
" So you thought the charming Marquise De Beaumanoir
looked as if she could consign you to death ? "
" I certainly did."
" She did not like you."
" Not like me ? I was an utter stranger to her. It is im-
possible ! "
Trafford himself felt very anxious to plunge into his explan-
ation, yet nearly dreaded it.
" You see I happened to be engaged to dine with her one
day in Paris, and that very day I found a young lady, in whom
I took some interest, locked out and absolutely without any
retreat : so you perhaps remember the circumstance ? "
" I do indeed."
She looked full and fearlessly at him, too eager in her desire
:or further information to think of embarrassment.
" Well," resumed Trafford, " we drove in the Bois de Bou-
logne, and I somehow forgot my engagement ; but the next
day, when I went to make my apology, madame was not to
be appeased. She, too, unfortunately, had been driving in
the Bois and recognized me, therefore, considered herself ill-
used because I had preferred a drive with you to a dinner
with her." He paused. " But is it possible that one passing
438 THE WOOING OT.
glance could so fix a face in her memory ? that so slight an
affront could remain in it ? " cried Maggie, now blushing vivid-
ly over her little ears and even the slender white throat, as she
tried, with tremulous hands, to proceed with her work.
" Madame De Beaumanoir is not a character you would
readily understand," said Trafford, watching with an uneasy
yet delicious sense of gratification, these signs of disturb-
ance. " She has a wonderful memory, a keen sense of what
is due to herself, and a somewhat uncharitable way of judg-
ing, and attributing motives. I rather hoped you would
not have met."
Maggie's heart was beating fast : the whole circumstance of
Madame De Beaumanoir's visit flashed back upon her with
astonishing clearness. " Say no more," said she quickly, in
a low voice ; " I understand it all now." And then, though
her eyes were riveted on her work, a smile a happy, content-
ed smile stole round her lips, and dimpled the cheek next to
Trafford so sweetly, that he felt desperately inclined to kiss
it at any risk ; but he wisely refrained, and broke the delight-
ful expressive silence by saying, " Will you make me the
first-fruits, then ? "
" I will," and Trafford knew he had been doubted, distrust-
ed, and forgiven, or rather reinstated.
" I should like so much to ask you some questions," said
Trafford. " May I ? "
" No ; you can imagine everything."
" That infer I mean fascinating Frenchwoman did not suc-
ceed in doing mischief : "
" Not much ; the material she had to work upon was too
fine and pure not to detect and reject poison."
Trafford did not reply, for Maggie, now roused up and
glowing, was for a few minutes above tremors and timidity.
" What possible wrong could there be in two civilized peo-
ple taking a drive together?" she asked, indignantly.
" What strange heads and hearts those must have who would
make harm out of it! "
And then her fiery courage collapsed, and she would have
given a good deal to recall the words. It was strange that
Mr. Trafford should have broken an engagement with a great,
grand, beautiful lady, to drive with a simple girl like herself.
Right or wrong, it was a triumph dear to her woman's heart.
"Your own instinct was your best guide," said Trafford.
*' Do not let us talk any more about it," said Maggie, half
impatiently, half imploringly.
THE WOOING O'T. 439
" Very well ; but I cannot help remembering our ramble by
the lake as well, as very pleasant."
" Are you going to to that place with the queer name ? "
said Maggie, hastily, to change the subject.
" I have not the least idea what I am going to do."
" What despair poor Mr. Bolton will be in ! I am sure you
will kill him at last."
"By the way, Bolton sent his compliments, or his besV
regards, to you Miss Grey, on two occasions when I saw him,
and I have always forgotton to deliver them. I should not be
surprised if he adopted you : you are a great favorite.
" I am very glad. It is so nice to be liked."
Maggie was feeling more composed and at ease. It was
wonderfully like those delightful evenings in Paris, when Mrs.
Berry was at Fontainebleau. Good heavens ! if Miss Grant-
ham knew that !
" And you are very fond of Miss Grantham she is
kind ? "
" Oh the dearest the most generous friend. I am won-
derfully fortunate in meeting with her ! I was very desolate
when I returned to England."
" As bad as when you first joined Aunt Grey ? " said
Trafford, with his softest tone and caressing smile,
showing he had forgotten none of her simple confi-
dences.
" Oh, no ! I had learned more. I had more faith in my-
self. It is a great thing to try even to stand alone, and I be-
gin to think though it is not very firmly I can."
" And what have you done with your cousin John ? I hope
you mollified him. You were in an awful fright the other
morning, going up for punishment ! "
" Oh ! " said Maggie, breaking into such a bright smile that
she sparkled all over. " He is quite well, and is to be mar-
ried on the 29th."
" Good Heavens ! " cried Trafford, " it is perfectly in-
credible ! "
" Yes. Is it not cheering to think of him and Lord Torchester
their rapid and complete cure ? Theirs cannot be such a
terrible malady after all."
Relieved, and even revived by this explanation and pleasant
talk with Trafford, Maggie laughed aloud in the gayety of her
heart.
Lady Dormer probably had had her sleep, for Maggie's
laugh was not loud, yet her ladyship woke up suddenly, as
440 THE WOOING OT.
Trafford exclaimed, " Both are inexplicable to me," and said,
sleepily, " Eh ! what is it ? "
Whereupon Trafford said he had not liked to disturb her,
but must now say good-night.
" You will not forget your promise this time ? ' said he, ex-
pressively, as he took leave of Maggie. " Little witch! thinks
she can stand alone. Well, perhaps so. What a charming
mixture pluck and softness make ! " was his last thought that
night.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
ALTHOUGH Maggie was infinitely pleased and relieved by
ascertaining the true channel through which Miss Grantham
had heard of her drive with Mr. Trafford, she was resolved
to be more cautious than ever. No doubt the worst had been
made of madame De Beaumanoir's rencontre, and she was
wonderfully fortunate in retaining Miss Grantham's friend-
ship in spite of such representations ; but she could not hide
from herself that, however kind and trustful, Miss Grantham
was not at ease when there was the least approach to private
communication between Trafford and herself.
And on her own account it was better to avoid him. If he
was trying to resist a tenderness for herself and the feeling
that he was grew upon her it was her pride to help him,
In short, loving both, ought she not to wish for, nay, so far
as lay in her humble power, strive to promote his marriage 1
with Miss Grantham ? This would be reasonable ; but she
could not be reasonable on this subject. So far from wishing
for such a union, the very idea of it seemed to press upon her
heart with an icy weight like death itself.
However, Trafford did not give her much trouble. He did
not seek her nor Miss Grantham, but went and came between
London and Eastnor in an unsettled way that naturally dis-
posed the heiress to think he could neither make up his
mind to leave her or to propose for her.
Still Maggie was happier and more settled since her con-
versation with Trafford ; she even began to think a little
more of her own future ; she wished much to have a busier
life, where absence and occupation would cure her of the pre-
posterous attachment she had allowed to grow up from a
seemingly harmless grain of sympathy and liking till it ovir
THE WOOING O'T. 441
shadowed her whole being, and all the winged fancies of hei
brain and heart lodged in the branches of it.
When they returned to London she would speak to Miss
Grantham. How she wished she had some wise, experienced
friend with whom to take counsel she was so inexperienced
herself.
And now the Eastnor season was nearly finished. Lady
Brockhurst talked of going to Paris. The duchess was going
for a short visit to " dear Lady Torchester ; " Miss Grantham's
house in town was quite ready, but each day the quiet, so-
ciable little place was prettier and pleasanter.
"Well, Torchester, I thought you had absolutely started
for Tribet or Tartary, it is so long since you have been down
here," said Miss Grantham, when the earl joined them
rather unexpectedly as luncheon was nearly over one morning.
" And what is the matter ? You look awfully solemn."
" Where's Geoff Trafford ? " replied the earl. " I thought
I should find him here he is not at the hotel."
" We have not seen him to-day. Is anything wrong, Tor*
Chester ? "
"Well, I'm afraid Garret and Oldham are going to
smash."
" And what then ? They are something in the city, are
they not ? "
" Yes ; and I believe Geoffrey has every rap he is pos-
sessed of in the concern."
" And will he lose all his money ? " asked Miss Gran-
tham.
" I am very much afraid he will."
" Good heavens, Tor ! and have none left ? "
" I suspect so."
" What on earth will he do ? "
" I can't tell : but I know I am a good deal cut up about
it. They say Bolton drew him into the concern, and has
every sou of his own in it. I feel very much annoyed with
Bolton."
" But where can Geoffrey be ? Johnson, send over to the
hotel, and ask if they know where Mr. Trafford is. As to be-
ing annoyed with Mr. Bolton, that is nonsense ; he believed
in these horrid people, and gave them his own money."
" How exceedingly imprudent," said Lady Dormer. " Not
what I should have expected from Mr. Bolton to give his
money to any one."
" I never knew anything half so dreadful," exclaimed
442 THE WOOING O'T.
Miss Grantham. " Are you sure he will lose every-
thing ? "
"If they smash it is more than likely, and fellows who
understand these things said at the club last night that they
could not hold out over to-day."
" And what is to be done ? "
" There is nothing to be done, as regards the bank, but we
must make Hillshire and Lord B get Geoffrey some good
appointment somewhere."
" And banish him out of the country, I suppose ? "
" People have to work so deuced hard in it."
Here Johnson returned with the information that Mr. Traf-
ford had gone out boating, and they had no idea when he
would return.
" How provoking ! What a shock it will be to him, poor
fellow ! "
" I don't know about that," said the earl. " He has been
going to the city lately a good deal. You see he isn't given to
talking about his own affairs, and there would have been no
use trying to sell, for the shares have been going down. I
fancy it's a fear of this business that has kept him in Eng-
land."
" Oh," said Miss Grantham, in what sounded a very peculiar
tone, " Well, Torches ter, I am going to ride^or I was going
but I do not feel as if I could do anything. Where are the
papers ? Is there nothing in them ? " Maggie rose and
went swiftly for the Times, but the " money article " was well
nigh unintelligible to the inexperienced readers, and when the
earl attempted to expound its mysteries he was speedily
ordered not to make " confusion worse confounded."
" I have heard my cousin John say," observed Maggie tim-
idly, " that the bank-rate is a sort of index to the state of city
affairs, and you see it has been raised again yesterday."
" Is that bad ? " asked Miss Grantham.
" Yes, very bad ; and it says ' scarcely any sales effected
on the Stock Exchange, owing to the general distrust."
" In short, we are on the eve of a panic," said the earl.
" Well, don't go away, Tor," said Miss Grantham. " Be
sure you come to dinner, and bring Geoffrey with you. How
strange that he should go out boating if he expected such
news ? "
" It would be very sad if anything were to happen to him
just now, and boating is always dangerous," said Aunt
plaintively.
THE WOOING O'T. 443
" Aunt Dormer ! how can you talk in such a distracting way ?
Why should any accident happen ? Johnson, send over to
Lady Brockhurst. My love, I have a headache, and cannot
ride to-day."
" Erskine will be desperately disappointed," said Lord Tor-
Chester.
" He is not here," returned Miss Grantham.
" Where is he gone to ? "
" Oh, I don't know, and I don't care." The earl opened
his eyes.
" Come, Maggie. I want a quiet walk. You will find us
somewhere along the beach, towards Cray's Creek, If you have
*ny news. We dine at seven.
" This is very extraordinary," said Miss Grantham, when
she found herself alone with Maggie. " Do you think it was
fear of this break or loss that kept him I mean Geoffrey
u? England ? "
''' I cannot tell, dear Miss Grantham."
" But what do you think ? what do you imagine ? "
" If hf had any idea of such a misfortune, of course i. .
would not leaw England, but I never thought he seriously in-
tended it."
" Indeed ! I wonder what he will do. Something quite
different from what every one would expect. I wonder what
will come of it all. You know one can show more of real
feeling when a person is in trouble thap a* any other time, and
don't you think so ? " interrupting herself abruptly.
" Certainly ; it is then that true affection will show itself."
" Yes." A long pause. " Maggie, I show great confidence
in you by asking, do you do you think Geoffrey cares for me
loves me ? Tell me your real impression."
" I have no clear impression about it. I cannot imagine
him indifferent to you, but I cannot quite see that he is in
love. However, if Mr. Trafford chooses to keep it to himself
I should never find it out."
" Nor I either," put in Miss Grantham, " Yet I must find
it out, and this is an opportunity. It will require wonderful
courage, but I maybe able to save both of us much suffering."
" What do you think of doing ? " said Maggie, in a low tone,
feeling herself pale and cold.
" Only going to try an experiment, and if the result is fa-
vorable I will tell you more," returned Miss Grantham, trying
to laugh. " Ah, Maggie, I believe you are a true honest
444 THE WOOING OT.
friend, yet the strangest doubts about you cross me some-
times."
" Doubt anything you like except my sincerity and gratitude
towards yourself," said Maggie, with much earnestness.
" What have I ever done to rouse your suspicions ? "
" Nothing, nothing. I hardly know what I mean myself.
Let us turn and go back again. I wonder if Geoffrey has re-
turned."
He had not, nor had he when Lord Torchester came in to
dinner. " How strange ! I never knew him to stay out so
long," and Miss Grantham sat through the dinner in a state
of nervous expectation.
Meantime Maggie had asked permission to spend the even-
ing with her friend Mrs. Berry, feeling that she would be de
trop in the family council, and Miss Grantham granted it with
a smile and nod that showed appreciation of the motive. It
was with a sense of relief that Maggie found herself out alone
in the cool fresh air of an early spring evening.
There had been a good deal of wind in the morning, but it
had gone down with the sun. Nevertheless, the tide was roll
ing up in foam-crested waves which broke in dull sullen thun
der on the beach, bringing with them the delicious savour ol
life-giving saltness. Maggie, who dearly loved every sight
and sound of nature, determined to indulge in a ramble past the
fishing village before committing herself to Mrs. Berry for the
evening, and, deep in a very rambling. reverie, walked on and
on till the failing light warned her to return. Before turning
back she paused to look at some men drawing up a large boat
on the beach below where she stood. A mast and a heap of
wet sail lay across the boat, and the whole looked picturesque
in the gray evening, helped by the enchantment of distance.
Higher up upon the beach stood a man, a tall man, who
seemed by his gestures to be giving directions, and then turn-
ing away, he walked quickly over the shingle to the road or
path which lay at the foot of the low cliffs or crags which
defended the land.
To her joy, her terror, her utter dismay and confusion,
Maggie recognized Mr. Trafford. Of course he would be re-
turning by the same road, and to avoid him was impossible.
She would have given much to find a turn to the right or to
the left, but there was none. She felt positively dizzy and
he was by her side.
" Miss Grey ! What extraordinary event has brought you
THE WOOING O'T. 445
here ? Your cousin must have left England by this time ? "
and Trafford looked down at her with a smile.
" Oh, yes. I was going to have tea with Mrs. Berry, but
it was so pleasant by the sea I strolled on."
" Ah ! you keep up your relations with our unhappy friend ? "
said Trafford, walking beside her, evidently bent on escort-
ing her.
" Of course ; she was always kind to me. But, Mr. Traf-
ford, you must hasten back, they are so anxious to see you."
" Why am I always to be despatched in this summary man-
ner ? We used to have nice long talks in Paris. You used
not to be so anxious to get rid of me there."
" I know that," said Maggie, driven to perfect candor in
her confusion and anxiety ; but now everything is quite dif-
ferent, and if you knew how anxious Miss Grantham and
Lord Torchester are about you, you would go back at once."
" Torchester ? Is he here ? What brought him down ?
Ah ! I see by your face bad news. What is it ? Is the bank
gone ? "
" Not exactly, I believe."
" By Jove ! I suspect it is by this time. I suppose the
evening papers are in. Well, Miss Grey, I will hasten on. I
confess to a large amount of curiosity."
" Perhaps," said Maggie, coloring crimson, and feeling in-
dignant with herself, " perhaps you had better not I mean
you need not mention you met me."
Trafford looked round quickly with a smile, and said, " No
certainly there is no Madame De Beaumanoir here.
Come, Miss Grey, shake hands, and wish me good luck.
Take off your glove," he added imperatively, as he held out
his own hand. Maggie quickly complied, and laying hers
frankly in it, raised her sweet kindly eyes, exclaiming, " I do
wish you luck with all my heart."
Trafford grasped her hand closely, warmly, and half un-
consciously laid the other over it. " It will make 'Very little
difference in time," he said hastily ; " I shall go with you to
Mrs. Berry's."
" For Heaven's sake, no," cried Maggie, frightened into
decision. " You ought to go to Miss Grantham at once. You
must"
" Well, I will, then." he said slowly. " Good-bye and ait
revoir."
Trafford turned away, and without trusting himself to look
46 THE WOOING O'T.
back, walked quietly toward the town, and a bend of the road
soon hid him from her sight.
Maggie breathed more freely. She was safe and alone,
and in spite of her reason and regret for the possible trials
impending over him, her soul was filled with exultation ; for
Trafford was willing to postpone his perusal of the all-im-
portant evening papers to walk with her. Yet what folly, to
be pleased with such an outrage of les convenances, which sh'
knew could lead to no good result 1
Mis. Berry had finish^ tea when Maggie reached Esplan-
ade Villas. " My goodness, this is a treat ! Why I thought
I was never going to see you again."
" It is really the first time I have had a chance of going
out, dear Mrs. Berry."
" Well, take off your hat and tell us the news. Do you
want any tea ? "
" No, thank you."
" So your cousin's married and gone. You lost a good
chance there, Maggie."
" Perhaps so. I could not help it."
" Take my advice, and don't let any of those fine gentle-
men make a fool of you. I hear a good deal of gossip one
way and another from the Honorable Mrs. S. and her maid ;
and I hear Miss Grantham quite spoils you."
" She does indeed."
" But they say she will marry that baronet, and then you
will lose her," etc., etc.
Meantime Trafford had glanced at the evening papers, and
found the announcement he expected. " Garret and Old-
ham had suspended payment.
It is a painful sensation, that of being ruined ; that bt-
tween you and destitution there is only the thin plank of your
own exertions, all crude and undeveloped as they are in that
biggest of all big babies, an untrained gentleman.
I suppose it makes some difference in the stunning total if
the ruin is involuntary or self-sought. At any rate, Trafford
did not take time to realize it just then. He dressed quickly,
and went over to Miss Grantham's house, whence two mes-
sages reached him while performing his toilet.
" Oh ! Geoffrey ! I have been quite miserable about you,"
cried Miss Grantham, coming forward with both hands out-
stretched.
" I say, Geoff ! have you seen the papers ? "
THE WOOING OT. 44}
" I have just seen them, and read their very unpleasant
news."
" Coffee, if you please ? " said the butler.
" No, tea, if you have it."
" Oh, Geoffrey, how can you be so calm ? " said Miss
Grantham.
" What would you have me do ? Tear my hair ? I assure
you I feel no small degree of disquiet ; but there is no use
whatever of tearing myself to pieces to-night. I shall go up
to town to-morrow, and deliver myself up to the tormentors ;
so I may as well keep quiet for the present."
" I will go with you, Geoff," said the earl.
" Thanks, Torchester."
" But, Geoffrey, dear Geoffrey ! you have no raeney at all
left ? "
" I scarcely know yet. At all events, if I am driven to
seek parochial aid, I shall select Castleford Union, and then,
Margaret, you can supply me with ' baccy,' which is one of
the luxuries not provided by an ungrateful country."
" Ah, Geoffrey, you make my heart ache."
"Then I shall never forgive myself. Why, Torchester,
what a trump this princess of ours is ! Things will not be so
bad, Margaret pale, fair Margaret ; for really that is a de-
scription of you to-night."
" A telegram for you, sir," said the urbane Johnson, ap-
proaching with one of those appaling yellow envelopes which
strike terror into bold hearts.
Trafford opened it, and his face darkened. " This is a bad
business," he said, and handed the telegram to Lord Tor-
chester.
" What is it ? " asked Miss Grantham. Lord Torchester,
with an exclamation of dismay, gave it to her, and she read,
" H. Lee, Lincoln's Inn Fields, to G. Trafford. Come up at
once. Garret and Oldham gone. Bolton seized with paraly-
sis."
" Poor old fellow," said Trafford. " I suspect he suffers
as much on my account as his own."
" Dear me, how dreadful," remarked Lady Dormer, " I
wonder whom they sent for. Poor Lord Trimbleston always
had Bitham. Bitham quite kept him alive."
Miss Grantham said nothing.
" Where's ' Bradshaw ? ' " asked the earl. " We must take
the first train to-morrow."
" There's nothing fast before 11:30," said Trafford ; " and
44l THE WOOING O'7\
the first train is so slow, we should scarcely gain half an houf
by it. I am awfully cut up about Bolton. All the money on
earth is not worth a stroke of paralysis."
" I am so grieved about Mr. Bolton. What misfortunes !
Nothing pleasant seems to last," murmured Miss Grantham,
in a low voice.
" Oh, this is only a passing cloud," said Trafford, turning
kindly to her. " Twelve months hence everything will seem
quite right again, even to me ; long before that to you.
Come, Torchester. I ana not very agreeable society to-night,
but will you have a smoke and a talk with me ? "
" Certainly," replied the earl, rising.
" You might just as well talk before me," said Miss Grant'
ham, pouting.
" No. you take things to much to heart ; " and Trafford
smiled as he held out his hand. " Good-night, and good-bye
at all events for the present."
" No no, not good bye," said Miss Grantham, earnestly.
" I must see you to-morrow. Promise you will not start
without seeing me. Do promise, Geoff ! " Her color rose as
she spoke, and then left her very pale.
" Certainly, as you wish it. But I fear I must be a very
early visitor."
" Never mind. Come at any hour ten nine."
" At ten, then ; so good-night."
" Are you not going to say good-night to me ? " asked the
earl in an injured voice.
" Oh, yes ! Pray forgive me, Torchester."
When they were gone, Miss Grantham rang and inquired
if Miss Grey had returned. Receiving a reply in the negative,
she desired that she should be sent to her as soon as she
came in.
When Maggie knocked at Miss Grantham's door after
receiving her message she entered and found the heiress in a
long white dressing-gown, sitting by an open window and
looking out upon the sea.
" You wanted me, Miss Grantham ? "
Yes ; come and sit down " (in a low, soft tone), " I have
nothing to say, yet I want to speak to a reasonable human
fcing."
Maggie sat down. " Are you wise," she asked, " to sit at
that open window in so thin a dress ? The air is quite cold."
M Yes, I believe I feel chilled," replied Miss Grantham,
THE WOOING OT. 449
rising with a visible shiver and closing the window. " But I
was so lost in thought, I forgot everything."
Maggie looked closely at her friend, and was grieved to
see the paleness of her cheek the heaviness of her eyes.
" And what news have the evening papers brought you ? "
she asked timidly.
" Oh, the worst ! The bank is gone, and Mr. Trafford's
money with it."
" And he is he dreadfully distressed ? "
" Of course. He will not show it ; in fact, he took it
splendidly. But, oh, Maggie, I cannot tell you what I felt to-
night when he talked, even in jest, of going into the work-
house ! To think of his wanting anything in the world that I
have ! There has always been such a marvelous charm about
Geoffrey for me. There is so much power in his careless
ease in his simple, natural, kindly manners. I ought, I
suppose, to be very much ashamed of myself ; but I do feel
that, if he loves me not, chaos is come again. Do not despise
me, Maggie ; I feel so strange and low, and hot and cold as
if I wanted to put my head somewhere and cry." And the
proud, beautiful, spoiled heiress suddenly knelt down, and,
clasped her arms around Maggie's slight figure, laid her head
upon her shoulder. As Maggie tenderly returned her
embrace, she felt a terrible thrill of pain and guilt pain, for
she knew there was disappointment bitter disappointment
before one she so sincerely loved ; guilt, because, however
she might turn from the belief, she could not help the
terrifying consciousness that in her. own humble self was her
friend's worst rival. Why had Trafford ever crossed her path ?
Why had that extraordinary sympathy, that unspoken
understanding sprung up between them ? And yet, even had
the the power could she renounce this crown of her life, this
secret sense of attraction ?
" I never felt quite the same toward any one as I do to
you," said Miss Grantham, after a pause, during which she
had overcome a strong disposition to cry. " Your life has
been so differed from mine ; you know so much more of its
graver side than I do. You are such a wise little thing, yet
you do not preach nor flatter. And I know a lot of what they
say to me is flattery, but I can't help liking it. Still I am a
sort of girl people like, am I not, independent of Grantham
and all my belongings eh, Maggie?"
" You are you are. For my own part, I look upon youl
29
450 THE WOOING VT.
rank and wealth as a sort of barrier to my affection. I should
like to work with you or for you."
" Well, I should not," said Miss Grantham, smiling and
resuming her seat. " I like to have everything I fancy, and I
hate being crossed ! I wonder I do not hate Geoff Trafford ;
he has worried me more than any one else in the world. I
wonder what he will do ? " Maggie shook her head in token
of her incapability of suggesting a reply. " I suppose he
will become a confirmed wanderer," added Miss Grantham.
" It costs a great deal of money to travel," said Maggie,
thoughtfully.
" There again ! poverty hedges him in. Something must
be done, Maggie. Mr. Trafford promised to see me to-morrow
before he goes to town, and I hope to persuade him to hear
reason, and yield to his friend's wishes to arrange something
for him."
* It will be very difficult to approach the subject."
" Awfully difficult," said Miss Grantham, half unconsciously
clasping Maggie's hand. " But I must I will find the courage
to do it." (A long pause.) " There is no use sitting here
talking any longer ; I shall go to bed," said Miss Grantham.
" And Maggie, if you would be very good to me, you will
read me to sleep."
" I will, indeed, with pleasure."
" Well, ring for Cdcile, and get some poetry I know, that I
need not follow closely ; ' Evangeline ' will do."
But it was long before Maggie could lull her troubled friend
to rest; she was feverish and wakeful, with hot, dry hands.
Sometimes she dozed, then started up wide awake and
palpitating. At last, calling herself thoughtless and selfish,
she peremptorily ordered Maggie to bed, where, though
weary and worn with a crowd of distressing, troublesome
thoughts, she could not sleep till the dawn had come.
Miss Grantham made a semblance of breakfast in her own
room and dressed with unusual care, yet she was much dis-
satisfied with the result. " How pale and ill and frightful I
look, Cdcile."
" Pas du tout, mademoiselle ! ce n'est qu'une de'licatesse
tout a fait charmante."
A knock at the door. " Mr. Trafford wishes to know if
Miss Grantham will see him ? "
* Yes, of course. Where is Lady Dormer ? "
" Miladi has not yet risen."
" And she takes two hours to dress."
THE WOOING OT. 45^
Miss Grantham cast another dissatisfied glance at the glass,
and then went hastily down stairs.
Trafford was standing by one of the windows when she
came in, and, when he turned to meet her, looked so dis-
tressed or cast down that she could not help smiling ; while
he, on the contrary, was struck by the pallor of her cheek.
" Margaret, you cannot be well ; and your hand is quitt
feverish. What is the matter ? You have not lost a fortune
nor a friend."
" There is nothing the matter with me, Geoff, except that ]
am troubled about you."
" Well, you must put me out of your head. I cannot bear
to think that I am a source of discomfort to you. I am by no
means in despair myself."
" I see that." She sat down, and an awkward silence
ensued.
" You wanted to see me ; you wanted to speak to me. I
am all attention."
" Yes, Geoffiky " (twisting her hands, and showing signs of
uneasiness). 4 *vVill it be a great complication of your diffi-
culties, this attack of Mr. Bolton's ? "
" It will not simplify matters. But is there anything you
want me to do for you ? "
" Why I should not like to trouble you about myself where
you have so much to think of but I want to tell you some-
thing, Geoff, so much, and I cannot."
" Why, you could tell me anything, Margaret."
" Nearly anything but this " (turning very white). " Can
you not guess ? "
" Good God ! you have not entangled yourself with Erskine
and want me to extricate you ? If that is it, I'll pull you
through somehow or other, trust me."
" Yes, of course, I would trust you ; but, thank Heaven, I
am as free as air as far as Sir Hugh is concerned."
" Well, I am sure you cannot be in debt ; and all human
woes, so far as I can see, arise either from love or money,"
said Trafford, laughing. " Have you quarrelled with poor
Torchester ? If so, I am sure you do not want my help to
make it up."
" No, of course not. Oh, Geoffrey, it is partly about
money, only I am afraid of you."
" Afraid of me ? Come, that is too large a draft on my
credulity." Trafford looked at his watch ; he was beginning
45* THE WOOING 77*.
to feel rather uneasy at the sight of Miss Grantham's exec*
sive embarrassment.
" No, don't look at your watch, Geoffrey. What I waited
to say, is that, if if you want money to do anything or go
anywhere, you will not mind " (A sudden break-down.)
" In short, you would like to bestow half your fortune on
me," put in Trafford, smiling. " I have not the least doubt
you would do so in the generous impulse of your heart. But
ma belle, such things cannot be in this common-place world."
" The half, Geoff ! " cried Miss Grantham, suddenly walk-
ing to the mantel-piece, where she rested her elbow and cov-
ered her face with her hand ; " I wish I wish I could give
you the whole."
Something in her voice, her attitude, her emotion, revealed
her full meaning to Trafford, who stood a moment silent,
more touched and embarrassed than he would have cared to
own, a dark flush passing over his brow ; then approaching
Miss Grantham, he gently took the hand that hung down by
her side. Kissing it with the most loyal respect, he said, in
a low voice, " That would be impossible, unless, indeed, I
could give you my heart and life in exchange ; and both have
passed out of my keeping, or they would have been yours
before this. There is my secret, sweet cousin."
Miss Grantham pressed his hand and drew hers away
instantly. Trafford, not knowing very well what to say or do,
turned to leave, when Miss Grantham, without uncovering
her face, exclaimed eagerly :
" One word. It is not that odious Madame De Beauma-
noir ! Any one but her."
" Madame De Beaumanoir ! Most certainly not."
" Thank God ! Now go away, Geoffrey do go."
He kissed her hand once more, and when she uncovered
her eyes she was alone.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE lady of the house was not visible till luncheon time,
and when that repast was over, she desired Maggie to put on
her hat, for she had a headache, and felt dull, and wanted a
walk.
Maggie obeyed, and joined Miss Grantham, who had sue-
THE WOOING O'T. 453
ceeded in disembarrassing herself of her fidus Achates, Miss
Stamer.
" Let us go where we shall not meet any one."
" Then we had better go towards the village," said Maggie ;
and there they went, strolling somewhat silently along, till
Miss Grantham suddenly declared she felt so weary she could
go no farther.
"There is a pleasant seat in the angle of the crag, near the
end of Mrs. Berry's garden," said Maggie, " where you might
rest, and still be in the air."
" Let us go to it, by all means."
A short steep path led from the end of Mrs. Berry's garden,
where it opened on a footway, between the esplanade and the
village, to a nook in the ambitiously named crag; where,
quite sheltered behind and on the right, you could look far
out to sea or down on the fisher village below.
" This is very nice," said Miss Granthain. sinking down.
" I do not know why it is, but my limbs acne, and I am so
wear}%" She remained silent a few minutes, soothed by the
gentle dash of the waves and the measured rush of their
backward sweep.
" Well, Mr. Trafford and I had a long talk this morning,"
said Miss Grantham at last, with an evident effort. " He
was quite obstinate about money would not hear of any one
helping him but, Maggie, I am glad to tell you I found out
he is attached to some one ! indeed, engaged, I imagine, from
what he said ; so pray forget any nonsense I may have talked
about him. I intend to forget it all myself; of course every-
thing is altered now. I should not be such a goose as to give
him another thought, except as an old friend : in such mat-
ters the wisest may be mistaken and I could not help fancy-
ing that oh ! there is no use talking about it ; but, Maggie,
it is curious you should have warned me against the possibil-
ity of his being attached, or entangled, or something. What
put it into your head, anything in Paris ? "
" Nothing whatever ; only that as Mr. Trafford is a goo4
deal older than you, and a great traveler, and you had seen
nothing of him for some years, such a thing was possible;
and the only way to account for his not " Maggie paused,
"Loving me," finished Miss Grantham; "perhaps so,
though I am by no means sure. Do not let us talk about
him any more ; but do not imagine I am ashamed of having
loved Geoffrey ! He is the truest man I have ever met ; the
only creature whose presence comforted me, and made m
454 THE WOOING O'T.
think twice before I talked nonsense. Ah ! it is very misera-
ble ; but there ! I am not going to break my heart about him
'let us talk of something else "
Brave words, which would help to their own fulfilment -,
but Maggie guessed shrewdly at the bleeding wound they
cloaked. Moreover, while bearing her part well in the rather
languid conversation, Maggie had her own pangs to stifle :
Mr. Trafford was probably engaged, and this ought to be
nothing to her.
" Well, the day after to-morrow we are to go to town. I
am very glad, we shall have such quantities to do. There is
my court dress, and indeed a complete change of mourning.
I feel quite anxious to leave this ; yet the last six weeks have
been very pleasant ! how I wish I had not to dine with Lady
Brockhurst to-night, my head aches fearfully."
" Don't go," said Maggie.
" Oh ! I must, if it cost my life ! " cried Miss Grantham,
excitedly. " Can you not imagine how the graceful little
panther would come to-morrow and pet me, and say she knew
how it would be when those tiresome men left ! and tell me
every possible bit of ill-natured scandal about Geoffrey, and
.his debts and wild doings ; no, no ! I will go, and be the
brightest there. Poor, dear Geoff ! I know he could not bear
Lady Brockhurst ; I am sure he could not ; but we will not
talk of him. Come, Maggie, we will go in ; perhaps bathing
my head with eau-de-cologne and water may relieve it "
Miss Grantham did manage, to dine with Lady Brockhurst
that evening ; and the next day she was feverishly impatient
about their preparations for going to town. Her will was law,
and the second morning after Trafford had disappeared from
the scene, Maggie found herself en route for London, in com-
pany with Lady Dormer, two ladies' maids, a pet Skye terrier,
and their liege lady, who Maggie was distressed to see was
alternately flushed and pale, with heavy eyes and hot hands.
Again our simple heroine wondered at and admired the
magic of money power. They came from a well ordered
breakfast-table and found a still more exquisitely appointed
dinner awaiting them. One noiseless ubiquitous functionary,
of inexhaustible resources and unerring memory, was left
behind to knit up the ravelled debris of their stay into a sym-
metrical finis. And lo ! another, slightly different in exterior
manifestation, but equally gifted, stood on the threshold of
the P Square mansion to receive them. The incompara-
ble Johnson remained behind to pay bills, etc., etc., the unap-
THE WOOING O'T. 455
proachable Wheeler was in attendance to incur new ones !
Scarce a rupture of their every-day routine.
But, however great the privileges of wealth, it cannot ward
off all " the ills which flesh is heii to ;" and long before her
usual hour Miss Grantham retired, declaring she could sit up
no longer.
" You ought really to take something warm, to promote
perspiration, my dear," said Lady Dormer. "A mustard
blister between the shoulders is very good in your case, for I
am sure you have a bad feverish cold."
"Thank you, Aunt Dormer; I have something feverish, I
am quite sure. Maggie will you come up presently and bring
my letters ? I cannot look at them now."
Maggie collected them, bid Lady Dormer good-night, and
put on her dressing-gown before she was summoned to Miss
Grantham's room for she could not reconcile herself to leav-
ing her friend alone through the night. Miss Grantham was
in bed when she came in, and said in an unusually high-
pitched voice, "There ought to be a letter for me from
Torchester among those. Pray look for it and read it."
Maggie obeyed, turning them all over till she found what
she thought was his lordship's hieroglyphics, and handed it
to Miss Grantham. ' ..,.
" Is that the one ? "
" Yes ; read it. Everything seems to swim before my eyes."
" Perhaps Lord Torchester might not like me to read it."
" Pooh, nonsense ! What matter about him ; what matter
about anything ? Do as I tell you."
There was a feverish impatience in her manner that left
Maggie no choice save to obey. She accordingly read as
follows.
" MY DEAR MARGARET, I hope you have arrived all right.
Bolton is better that is, he has shown some consciousness,
and spoken a few articulate words. It is a bad business for
him. He has not only lost all he put in that unlucky bank, ,
but he is liable for a lot more of uncalled-up capital nearly
everything he is worth. Geoff is so far more fortunate that
his shares were fully paid up. So they can get no more out
of him. I haven't an idea what Geoff is going to do. I
don't think he has himself; but he has already been making
preparations to sell off his horses and lots of traps. He has
a dark chestnut would make a splendid match for your Rufus.
Would you like to buy him ? Let me know. I never saw
456 THE WOOING OT.
Geoff in better spirits. My mother wants him to make a
home at the Beeches, and go into the prayer-meeting tract-
distributing line ; but I don't think that would quite suit,
though my mother is a brick, after all.
"I fancy Geoff will join this expedition to discover some-
thing somewhere. Government is granting a subsidy, and I
think it's just the thing for him. I saw Hillshire this morn-
ing. He says the appointment of Chief Justice of the Squash-
imodo Island is vacant, but fears they want a more practically
experienced man than Geoffrey Trafford which is nonsense.
Poor old Bolton used to say that Geoff was as good a lawyer
as he was a sportsman ; and you know there isn't a better
shot anywhere. I am going down to Mount Trafford to-night,
but return on Monday, when I hope to see you.
" I suppose there will be no having a word with you once
the season has set in. I have some thoughts of starting a
yacht. Mind you answer about the chestnut.
"Yours truly,
TORCHESTER."
" What a thoroughly heartless letter," said Miss Grantham,
after a moment's pause.
" Heartless ! I do not think so. Lord Torchester is
evidently interested both for Mr. Bolton and for Mr. Traf-
ford."
" Yes ! but you see the whole drift is dictated by his wish
to banish Geoffrey away somewhere."
" I cannot see that. He is anxious about his prospects."
" And it is more than ever likely that Geoffrey will banish
himself. Poor Geoff ! How unfortunately everything has
turned out ! " (Another pause) " Give me the letter. I do not
think I ever had a letter from Torchester before. What a
"hand he writes ! How different from Geoff's clear, straight,
Astern-looking writing ! "
" Yes, very," said Maggie heartily and inadvertently.
u Where have you seen Mr. Trafford's writing ? " asked
Miss Grantham, opening her blue eyes in great suprise.
" In a little note he once sent with some books and
papers."
" Where were they sent to you ? " said Miss Grantham.
'" In Paris. He was good enough to lend me some maga
zines and newspapers," returned Maggie faltering and
blushing.
" Have you the note still ? " asked Miss Grantham,
THE WOOING O'7. 457
"Oh, no ! there was nothing in it," cried Maggie, feeling
unboundedly thankful that she had resisted her inclination to
preserve the relic of delightful days, and had destroyed it in
one of her sternly resolved moods.
" It was all right, of course, that he should lend you books
he is very good-natured ! But I have such strange fancies/
(A pause then an abrupt exclamation) " No : it is quite
impossible. My head throbs dreadfully. I will try and
sleep."
" And I will stay here till you do sleep, dear Miss Grant-
ham. You must see Sir Henry H to-morrow."
" I will if I am not better, and I do think I shall be. Is it
not dreadfully warm ? "
I will open the window a very little, and fan you till you go
to sleep.''
Gradually the " Restorer " stole over the young heiress r
unnaturally bright blue eyes ; and Maggie sat long motionless,
holding the closed fan. She could not bring herself to leave
her friend who moaned, and uttered inarticulate murmurs
through her troubled sleep. After a while she rose, lit a
night-light, and wrapping a shawl round her, took her place
once more by the sleeper, laying her hand on the bed, that,
should Miss Grantham wake suddenly, she should at once
find she was watched and tended.
For a long time Maggie kept awake, her brain working
vividly, recalling the last three or four days distinctly, pain-
fully.
She did not think she would have felt so keenly Miss
Grantham's intimation that Trafford was engaged or entangled
in some way. Was it possible that after having so often told
herself that he never could be anything to her after having
submitted herself, as she thought, to this verdict of common-
sense, she had not so entwined itself with her very being.
She had done her best, and yet that desperate longing to see
his face, to hear his voice, would not leave her. Surely much
of this unconquerable weakness was owing to the vague,
irresistible conviction which, now floating away almost com-
pletely, now gathering thickly over her like mountain mists
that melt and form and flit to and fro before they finally
envelop hill and dale, never quite left her. The conviction
that she was more to him in her lowliness ; and, as she
thought, unattractive simplicity, than Miss Grantham or any
one else. Now she must give up that idea. His indifference
to his beautiful kinswoman was due to some long-standing
4# THE WOOING O'T.
mysterious attachment and she could never have been anyv
thing to him save a helpless, honest girl, in whom he took a
kindly interest. While to her, life was hopeless, colorless,
savorless, unless she could reign supreme in his heart. No
crumbs of affection thrown from the master's table would
satisfy her. Freely she gave, freely she looked to receive. It
was seldom Maggie let her soul speak out so freely to her of
its cravings and needs. To-night she did not attempt to turn
a deaf ear to its moan.
u I will think out all that has so long tormented me, and
then all shall go back into silence forever. I must get rid of
my delusions now that they have been torn to pieces for me.
Surely I shall now gather strength and be of good courage."
And so gradually she glided from thought into dreamland.
But her sleep was broken. Suddenly a cry from Miss Grant-
ham roused her, startled and wide-awake. The sleeper had
grasped her hand.
" Is it you, Maggie ? Oh, how thankful I am to find you be-
side me ! I have had such dreadful dreams. Is it day yet ?
How good of you to stay by me ! Do not go, dear do not
leave me."
" I will not, indeed ! I did not intend to leave you. Lie
down, and try to rest, dear Miss Grantham."
" What time is it ? Is that daylight I see through the
window ? "
" It is. Why, it is nearly five o'clock ; try to sleep, and I
will call Cecile to get you some lemonade ; your hands are so
hot and dry."
"Very well," said Miss Grantham, faintly, and she lay
down obediently.
As soon as he could be "brought, an eminent physician was
with the fair invalid. He put a good many questions, felt her
pulse long and carefully, spoke kindly and cheerily, as these
masters of our weakness know how to do, and departed, say-
ing he would call again later. As he left the room, he passed
Maggie, who was waiting outside. " Come with me," he said,
and she followed him to Miss Grantham's study, where he sat
down at her writing table.
' You are ? " said he, looking keenly and inquiringly
into Maggie's face.
" Miss Grantham's secretary and companion," she replied,
** Ah ! you sat up with her last night. What was the period
greatest restlessness ? "
" Between twelve and one."
THE WOOING 0T. 459
A few more queries and the great doctor rose.
" Is she very ill ? " asked Maggie with anxious eyes.
" She will want a great deal of care. Who is the family
attendant ? "
" Dr. Layton."
" Let him be here at four this afternoon to meet me ; and
you had better have a nurse. Dr. Layton will see to that.
Are you afraid of infection ? No ? that's right. Miss Grant-
ham seems to like you near her, and it is very important that
a patient should like the attendant. You look cool and stead-
fast ; get rid of the French maid. I will see Lady Dormer;
but it is right to warn you there may be infection."
" I have no fear," said Maggie, calmly.
" Good morning, then," and the physician went away.
Maggie stood a moment where he had left her. There was
evidently a trying ordeal before her kind patroness, and-
thank God, Maggie could be of use to her. No more dreams
and selfish regrets, but real work, real service. So she stole
softly back to the sick room, taking with her, by natural in-
stinct, some needlework, that she might not seem too oppres-
sively watchful to the invalid. And then the hours slid by
wearily, yet not slowly, till the hour came round for the doc-
tor's second visit.
IT was late on the following Tuesday that Lord Torchester
rushed into Trafford's chambers, and found him immersed in
papers, with a shrewd nondescript-looking man, in clerical-
looking attire, not over new or fresh.
" Can I speak to you, Geoff ? "
" Yes, in a minute or two. Now, Mr. Carberry, though I
do not want to keep these Cuyps of mine, understand me, I
am not pressed for money. I will let them go for a hundred
and fifty apiece, or I will keep them. If you make up your
mind by to-morrow at twelve, let me see you. Now I must
say good-morning."
" Well, sir, you shall see or hear from me to-morrow, about
twelve," and the nondescript man departed.
" What is it, Torchester ? " said Trafford, turning his chair
to face his visitor, whose agitated expression and visible un-
easiness excited his curiosity.
" Margaret Grantham is dangerously ill. H. was called in
on Friday, and R. was sent for to-day ; they say it is a bad
case of typhus."
469 THE WOOING O'T.
" Typhus ! !" repeated Trafford, aghast. " Impossible !
where could she have caught typhus fever ? "
" Heaven knows ! They say Eastnor is badly drained ;
but it is an awful business, Geoff so young and bright and
beautiful as she was ! "
" And will be," said Trafford cheerily, laying his hand
kindly on his cousin's shoulder. " With her splendid health
and untried constitution she will pull through. Who is with
her ? " he added.
" Oh, nurses and all sorts of people ; but Lady Dormer
says the only one she seems to know is Miss Grey, who sticks
to her like a brick, in spite of the infection."
" Infection ! " repeated Trafford, looking intently into va-
cancy. " It is frightfully infectious ! "
" Of course it is. Lady Dormer's room was so powerfully
impregnated with aromatic vinegar, that I could not stop
sneezing ; she is in an awful fright, but ashamed to run away.
My mother is coming up to stay there, but it is quite unneces-
sary. Poor Margaret? she is such a plucky creature. I
think she will get over it eh, Geoff ? "
" I have every hope she will nay, I feel as if she would.
Still, it will be an anxious time. Did you hear any par-
ticulars ? "
" I saw Layton, the family doctor. It seems she was com-
plaining for a few days before they left Eastnor, and was very
unwell the night they arrived in town."
Trafford was silent. He was trying to estimate what share
his last interview with the bright, impulsive girl had in her
illness ; but, being inclined to view matters by the light of
common-sense, he soon dismissed that idea.
" Come and dine with me," said Lord Torchester. " I do
not seem as if I could go to the Club and listen to fellows
talking, and betting, and let us have a quiet dinner at
home."
" Very well. I neither like to be alone or with a multitude
to-day," returned Trafford, beginning to arrange his papers
and put them away. " I have one or two places to go to, ana
will be with you at 7:30."
The earl departed to wander to and fro and try to distract
his thoughts until his mother's arrival, which he looked for
ward to as a source of comfort more than he would have
cared to allow.
Meanwhile the routine of the sick room had been fully
established, and Maggie was absorbed in her anxious watch.
THE WOOING &T. 461
It seemed to her as if the days of health and sunshine and
blitheness had been pushed away back years, and that it '.vas
a whole age since Miss Grantham was laid upon her bed of
sickness.
As yet the sufferer was only unconscious or wandering at
times, but the intervals of composure and clearness were
fewer and shorter. Maggie's whole heart was wrapped up in
her anxiety to save so dear and precious a life. She could
scarce be persuaded to leave her patient, and just took suffi-
cient rest to keep herself equal to her work. That she
snatched in the day, as her presence always seemed to exer-
cise a soothing influence on Miss Grantham.
Evening had just begun to darken on the fifth day, when a
message was cautiously whispered to Miss Grey that Mr.
Trafford was in the study, and begged she would speak to
him, if only for a minute.
" Have you told Mr. Trafford of the danger of the infec-
tion ? "
" Yes, ma'm ; but he says he knows it, and must speak to
you."
Maggie went quickly to the room, where Trafford was pac-
ing to and fro.
" How is she ? " he said, coming toward her with an out-
stretched hand.
"Just now sleeping uneasily," replied Maggie, drawing
back ; " but the fever increases. No, Mr. Trafford ; it would
be folly to run unnecessary risks. Keep as far as you can.
I can tell you everything as well at this distance." And she
gave him a rapid sketch of what had occurred, of the cau-
tiously worded opinion of Sir H of the present condition
of the patient.
" It is a bad business," said Trafford. " Nevertheless, I
think there is every hope."
" God grant it ! " But, oh, if you saw her ! " Maggie's
voice broke, and she pressed her hand over her eyes, stand-
ing quite still to recover her self-possession.
Trafford took the hand that hung down despondently. She
tried to draw it away. " No, I have not the slightest fear,"
said he ; "I have been near all sorts of fevers. But you
did they warn you of the danger to which you expose your-
self, by being constantly in such an atmosphere ? You ought
not to have undertaken such a task, when there was plenty
of care at hand."
" Yes, but not quite like mine," returned Maggie. " I love
462 THE WOOING O'T.
her so well ; and then I seem to be a little comfort to her.
But I need not explain to you that it would have been impos-
sible to leave her you know I could not."
" Yes, I understand it. Yet I think of your danger." He
let her hand go, and paced the room for a few turns.
" After all," resumed Maggie, simply, " my life is not of so
much importance. " I have no father or mother, or anyone
to live for. Not," she added, quickly for Trafford stopped
short, and looked at her with lips apart as if to speak " not
that I am tired of life or wish to get rid of it. It has been
far better than I once dared to hope. But I must go back."
"Well," said Trafford, taking her hand in both his,
"good-bye; but promise to come here and give me a report
once every day. You do not know how deeply, painfully
anxious I am. Poor, dear Margaret, it is impossible that
such a healthy life should be swept away. Good-bye, Maggie ;
take what care you can of yourself."
When Maggie returned to the sick room Miss Grantham was
awake and conscious. " Where have you been ? " she asked,
feebly. Maggie told her, adding a few words descriptive of
Mr. Trafford's great anxiety about her. Miss Grantham
smiled, and then said, with some energy, " You must not go
to him again, Maggie ; he will take this horrid fever. Geoff
must be a great man yet."
This was nearly the last rational sentence she uttered for
many days, though she often muttered his name ; and Maggie
religiously obeyed her, for more reasons than one.
And now weary nights succeeded weary days. The
doctors' faces grew grave, and after a fortnight of varying
replies came the sad words so sadly uttered, " Sinking fast."
" I do not say, my dear sir," said the great doctor to
Trafford, who with Lord Torchester had scarcely left the
house for the last twelve hours, " that she cannot recover ;
but I dare not give you hope."
And so the hours sped on. Maggie composed, but hope-
less, too strained to think even of grief, watching untiringly,
ever ready with milk or medicines, or stimulants to wet the
parched lips, and give some atom of help to the fluttering
struggling life.
Then came the faintest hope just suffusing the aching
hearts of the anxious watchers. The night through which
they had not dared to hope she would last was gone, and she
still lived, and so through the succeeding day. Every hour
of prolonged existence was a gain. At first they scarce
THE WOOING O'T. 463
ventured to listen to happier anticipations ; but the second
day Maggie felt she would not die. Then the doctors looked
bright, and gradually the reluctant life came back into its
fair dwelling, and she was safe.
" A wonderful recovery, my dear countess," said Sir H
to Lady Torchester on the fourth morning after the terrible
night on which there had been no hope. He was speaking
to the family conclave ; for, although Lady Torchester had
not been allowed into the sick room, she had stayed with
Lady Dormer. " A most wonderful recovery ! and much of
it due to good nursing. That little Miss Grey has been quite
invaluable. Such presence of mind such untiring watchful-
ness ! "
" The nurse that Dr. Layton sent was very good also ? M
asked Lady Torchester.
"Excellent; but when you get a nurse who knows and
loves the patient, and yet has the pluck and reason not to be
unnerved by her feeling, that is perfection. Good-morning,
Lady Torchester good-morning, Lady Dormer. We shall
do now, I think."
" What a first-rate little brick Miss Grey is ! " cried Lord
Torchester, his broad, beaming face showing how great was
his relief. " I am going to dine at the ' club.' Will you
come, Geoff ? "
"No, thank you. I am going to see poor Bolton. He
has expressed a wish to see me."
" Ah !" said Lady Torchester. " I hope he has some one
near to arouse him to a sense of his unhappy state."
" Poor old fellow ! " replied the earl. " I hope he has
not. He is badly off enough without that."
CHAPTER XXXV.
A MONTH had gone pleasantly by with all the daily increas
ing happiness of convalescence. Miss Grantham had been
most carefully removed to the Beeches, as the doctors had
recommended some change as soon as possible ; and Lady
Torchester's house was the perfection of comfort and
prettiness. Thither Maggie was also transported, as Miss
Grantham declared herself unable to do without her.
Aunt Dormer was sent to recruit at Mrs. Longmore's
464 THE WOOING O'T.
country seat, where a maiden sister of Mr. Longmore's
always resided in and out of season.
A couple of charming rooms were given up to Miss
Grantham. They looked out upon the Park, and delic-
ious odors of May blossoms and freshly cut grass were
wafted through the open windows.
" How sweet life is ! " said Miss Grantham, softly, as she
lay upon her sofa, drawn near the window, enjoying the
simple fact of existence free from suffering. "I do not
deserve all the good that is heaped upon me. How kind
every one is ! Maggie, you have been an angel to me. I
shall never forget it never ! '
" Do not talk too much, or excite yourself," said Maggie.
" I feel quite strong to-day," resumed the heiress. "And
I have wanted to know all the news, but was too weak to ask.
How is poor Mr. Bolton ? Tell me everything."
" I hear he is very weak and helpless, but quite sensible.
I believe he has lost all his money."
"And what is Torchester doing ? "
" Oh, he is here constantly so anxious to see you. He
was in such despair when you were ill."
" Poor fellow ! I do not deserve that either. I will see
him to-morrow, if they will let me." A long pause. " Mag-
gie, do you know nothing of Geoffrey Trafford ? Did he not
care if I lived or died ?"
" He did he did indeed ! No one, I am told, could have
shown deeper anxiety about you ; but he never quite despaired
of you."
" Ah ! " began Miss Grantham, and stopped. There was a
sad, disappointed tone in the " Ah ! "
; 'And you know nothing of Mr. Trafford ? "
" I have heard nothing of him for some time."
" Maggie, he is not gone to to where is the place ? " he
has not left England ? "
" No, no," cried Maggie, alarmed at the bright flush that
rose to the invalid's brow. " I should certainly have heard
it. Now, I must insist on your taking some arrowroot and
trying to sleep. You know you are to go out for the first
time since you came down here to-day, and you must not
exhaust yourself. Lady Torchester can tell you everything I
do not know."
The heiress obeyed with the unquestionable submission she
generally gave to Maggie, and which was touching as
compared to her imperiousness when in health.
THE WOOING O'T. 46$
It was a curious result. Maggie could not help thinking of
the strange eddies of circumstances that had brought her to
be the favored guest of Lady Torchester Trafford's aunt,
the earl's mother ; and then the conviction pressed upon her
that it could not last ; that something must happen to cut her
adrift, and cast her out of that pleasant, polished, untroubled
world where the claws of those tiger-cats, want and care and
rugged necessity, were ever hidden and disused in their
velvet paws. She was deeply grieved, too, that Miss Grant-
ham had come out of this terrible ordeal through which
she had just passed, still yearning fruitlessly for Trafford's
love.
To know that he was engaged or attached to some one else
ought to have cured her, and the " still small voice " sug-
gested to Maggie something about the beam in her own eye,
and so she cut short her reflections, and called Ce'cile to have
all Miss Grantham's wraps ready, as she was to go out at
twelve with Lady Torchester.
The next day, after some hesitation, the earl was admitted
to see Miss Grantham.
She was looking exquisitely, delicately lovely, wrapped in
a white muslin dressing-gown, plentifully adorned with blue
ribbons.
" Oh, Tor, I am so pleased to see you ! "
Lord Torchester's heart was full ; at no time eloquent, he
was now quite speechless. He took her hand in both of his,
bent over it for a moment to hide his emotion, and at last
said rather huskily, " Thank God, you are all right ! "
Miss Grantham was much struck by the feeling he showed,
and his strong and successful effort to control it. She ever
after showed a greater degree of respect for him.
" You must not exert yourself, my dear Margaret," said
Lady Torchester, who mounted guard over the invalid each
day at a certain hour, armed with a thick volume of sermons,
addresses, meditations, or expositions ; and if not watched
and delicately manoeuvred by Maggie, would have insisted
on deluging her victim with large doses of the above mix-
tures. " And you must not excite her, Torchester."
" I am afraid,'' said the earl, laughing good-humoredly,
" there is very little chance of my doing so eh, Mar
garet ! "
" Oh, it is so nice to hear you talk again, dear Tor ! It
is really like coming back to life, I feel as if I should like to
ride so much,"
466 THE WOOING OT.
" You must not think of such a thing for weeks," cried the
countess.
" Well, my dear mother, I may drive Margaret to-morrow
in your pony carriage ; you know I am a good whip."
" But to-morrow Tuesday did you not think of second-
ing Lord E 's motion ? "
" Yes. Nevertheless, if you will put me up to-night,
and Margaret can go out tolerably early, I can manage
both."
" And are you going to speak in the House ? I am so
glad. What are you going to say ? " cried Miss Grantham.
" Very little ; nevertheless, it wiU be a beginning. But you
will drive with me to-morrow morning ? "
" Yes, certainly directly I am dressed. And, Torchester,
tell me all the news about Mr. Bolton, and the Stamers, and
Geoff everything."
" Bolton is a sad wreck, though better on the whole than
could have been expected at first. His speech is much im-
proved, but his right hand is nearly useless. He is to go
away for change of scene and air. I met Mrs. Stamer and
the girls at the duchess' reception last night, and I think
there is a very promising flirtation between Mary and St.
Lawrence. Erskine is in Paris ; so is Lady Brockhurst and
Geoff "
" Yes, what is he doing ? "
" Oh ! he has moved into chambers in Gray's Inn. He
has routed out all his old law books, and bought a blue bag
. and a wig, and is going in for the Woolsack Stakes in the
most determined manner. He is in court all day taking
notes, and has cut every one. Will not dine out goes no-
where, I believe, but to see Bolton, whose seizure, I believe
is principally caused by his grief about having drawn Geoff
into that unlucky banking concern."
" What a change ! " exclaimed Miss Grantham. " How
dreadful!"
" It is, indeed," echoed Lady Torchester ; " and yet his
manner is as bright as ever. I should not wonder if he is
very successful, still I cannot help thinking that his hard
work tells upon him he looked so dark and worn when I
saw him last. But he has not lost quite everything, has he ? "
she asked.
" Everything except a miserable three hundred a year."
" And what is this dreadful place he has gone to live in ? *
asked Miss Grantham.
THE WOOING O'T. 467
" Gray's Inn not so bad after all. I dined with Geoff
there the other day, and met a queer fellow a barrister. We
were uncommonly jolly. Geoff was most amusing, and the
other man I forget his name is a great character. Le-
moine, Geoff's Canadian, is with him still a first-rate ser-
vant."
" And does Geoff Trafford associate with all these horrid
people who live in this Gray's Inn ? " said Miss Grantham.
" A good many ; but, you know, he is too much of a cos-
mopolite to be fanciful and exclusive."
" No, I do not think either of you could have been very
exclusive, considering that you frequented Mrs. Berry's soi-
re'es."
The earl colored.
" What in the world induced you to go there ? " persisted
Miss Grantham.
" I can hardly tell. I got into rather a card-playing set in
Paris, and they all went. Geoffrey went there, I believe, to
look after me."
" The less said about it all the better," observed Lady
Torchester stiffly. " It is not our province to inquire into
the follies and errors of young men, especially when they are
repented of and abjured."
Miss Grantham glanced mischievously at her cousin.
" You must have lost a lot of money, Tor," said she, " or you
would never have abjured it."
The earl laughed. " I did not escape unscathed," said he.
" Margaret must not talk any more," observed the countess.
" You must go away, my dear boy."
" One word before you go, Tor. Does Geoffrey remember
that I have survived ? does he ever intend to come and see
me?"
" Of course he does he is only waiting permission. Ask
him to come down on Saturday and stay till Monday," said
the countess. "It seems an age since I saw him."
" Don't forget you are to drive me out to-mbrrow morning,"
added the heiress giving her hand to her cousin with a smile
so caressingly sweet that, but for the countess' awful presence,
Lord Torchester might have summoned courage to take a
kiss, and in Miss Grantham's sunny mood might have been
forgiven. As it was he left her presence more in love
than ever.
Descending the stairs he met Maggie, who had just come
from the garden with her hands full of flowers, in the hall
468 THE WOOING O'T.
"How do you do, Miss Grey? I am so glad to see you.
What a trump you have been ! If ever I am ill, I wisi L had
a chance of having you for a nurse. You might, yot know,
considering. Well, we mustn't talk of by-gones " a gay
laugh " Miss Grantham is nearly all right again. I never
saw her look lovelier." The earl was too excited to be
prudent.
" She does indeed. I am sure we all feel as if we had been
respited from the grave by her recovery. Are you going up
to town ? "
" Yes, but I am coming back to dine and sleep, for I am to
drive Margaret out in my mother's pony carriage to-morrow "
an irrepressible tone of triumph.
" And how are you yourself after all your fatigue ? I say,"
continued the earl, with a sudden accession of foresight, Miss
Grantham is deucedly curious as to why Geoff Trafford and
I used to go to Mrs. Berry's she will be sure to pump you "
A slightly awkward pause, for the earl suddenly remembered
that it would be awkward to ask a young lady to conceal the
fact that he had proposed to her. But Maggie relieved him.
" Trust me, Lord Torchester," she said, with a mischievous
smile. " I am quite safe."
" I am sure you are, and you can't think how fond I was of
you ; and so I am still, only " His lordship broke off
abruptly, a little shocked at his own candor.
" Is it not cruel of you to remind me of all I have lost ? "
said she, laughing. " Confess, now, you are infinitely obliged
to me for not having been equally fond of you ? "
" If you had, everything would have been quite different."
"There, say no more, my Lord ! I'll keep counsel about
poor Mrs. Berry's soirees. Of course you were brought there
by M. De Bragance ? "
"Exactly; and Geoffrey only came on my account."
As Lord Torchester spoke he happened to be looking
straight into Maggie's face, and in spite of her earnest effort
for composure the bright tell-tale color mounted in her cheeks,
and even flushed her brow. A sudden light seemed to break
in upon Lord Torchester, but he only said, " Good-bye then,"
and departed.
Maggie, hoping and hastily concluding that the earl did
not notice her absurd accession of color, turned into Lady
Torchester's morning-room to arrange her flowers.
Meantime the earl gathered up the reins of the two fast
trotters which were to whirl him back to his engagements ia
THE WOOING OT. 409
town, in deep thought. " Was it possible that Geoff had been
spoony on little Maggie Grey, or made love to her ? " There
was an interval when he remained behind in Paris which was
unaccounted for ; lots of mischief might have been done in
that time. The earl hoped that Trafford had not been
making a fool of himself or Miss Grey. " By Jove, I would
never forgive him if he played fast and loose with her ! she is
such a little brick ; but it would be a curious affair if Geoff,
whom I am certain came to choke me off, was caught
himself."
" When Maggie entered the morning-room she was a little
surprised to find Lady Torchester standing in one of the win-
dows, not looking over well pleased.
As soon as the earl had closed the door Miss Grantham
declared her intention of going to sleep, and the countess,
having letters to write, left her, intending to send her maid to
keep watch.
On reaching the stair she was somewhat ruffled to find her
son and that Miss Grey in close and cordial conversation
and as she passed into the morning-room could not help
hearing the earl say, " If you had everything would have
been quite different." Could it be possible that demure,
designing little Miss Grey was again twining herself around
that unsuspicious, noble-hearted boy? Now that she was
more than ever anxious he should marry Margaret Grantham
to whom, in her present gentle submissive mood, the good
countess was growing warmly attached it was alarming ;
once more she would consult Geoffrey, who had been her
good angel on the former occasion.
When poor Maggie beheld the countess standing there
with clouded brow, the color which had been called up by the
earl's eyes again deepened, and she said with some confusion :
" I did not know that you were here, Lady Torchester."
" Probably," said that lady, dryly. "You had better go up
to Miss Grantham. She is sleeping, but ought not to be left
alone." And Maggie, her ears tingling, and feeling she had
been rebuffed why, she knew not took herself and flowers
elsewhere.
The succeeding days were a little anxious, for Miss
Grantham was not quite so well; she was restless and slightly
feverish. Lord Torchester was in despair was it his fault ?
Had he talked too much to her, or let her talk too much?
Did Miss Grey think he had kept her out too long ? For the
earl turned naturally for comfort to Maggie ; she was so kind;
470 THE WOOING OT.
she seemed to enter into his feelings for Miss Grantham like
a real friend ; there was so much simple common-sense in her
opinions, that the young man was always in search of her, if
not with his cousin, during his brief but frequent visits to the
Beeches.
His lady mother, however, pondered all these things in her
heart, and very unpalatable food for thought she found them.
Maggie had always felt herself at a disadvantage with Lady
Torchester ; she was conscious that the countess could not
quite forgive her for having attracted the heir of Trafford, nor
perhaps the sort of mastery of the position which her disin-
terested rejection of the young peer bestowed. Then Maggie
was malignant, and did not disguise her malignancy. She
had on one occasion acknowledged that she would
have no objection whatever to meet a Catholic, or worse
yet, " Angelican," in another and a better world " and so
far from being a safe and evangelical influence to dear
Margaret Grantham, she rather confirmed that young lady's
Broad Church proclivities. Lady Torchester therefore found
herself heartily wishing the favorite secretary away, thougk it
would be hard to uproot her now, after her devotion her
successful devotion to the young heiress; yet if Margaret
was ordered abroad, as there was every probability, it would
be absurd to take Miss Grey. The countess determined to-
feel her way with the little secretary rather than with the self-
willed Margaret, who, at the slightest suggestion to the
contrary would very likely have declared her resolution never
to part with Maggie during the term of her natural life.
There was another subject which troubled the even surface
of that spiritual tranquility on which, as an advanced
Christian, the countess prided herself. The interest which
Miss Grantham evinced in Geoffrey, favored as he was by his
aunt, was anything but satisfactory to that lady. The young
heiress had somewhat incautiously relieved the tedium of
Lady Torchester's companionship, and avoided the infliction
of sundry memoirs of deceased divines, by indulging in
rather unlimited disquisitions on Geoffrey Trafford's past,
present, and future. Moreover, the earl had observed to his
mother when he had returned from Llanelwy " that Margaret
Grantham was quite devoted to Geoff Trafford, and would
believe black was white if Geoff said so " a mere ebullition
of ill-temper on the young man's part, as Miss Grantham
had snubbed him considerably ; but his words sank into his
mother's heart. Fond though she was of her favorite nephew,
THE WOOING O'T. 471
she did not like the idea of his carrying off the Grantham
heiress from her son. Torchester, though evidently fond of
his cousin, might possibly, if he thought Geoff preferred to
himself, turn his attentions and affections to that of Miss
Grey. And here were all the dramatis persona of the plot
gathered under her roof ! It was enough to ruffle the heavenly
composure of the most advanced Christian.
With some idea of suggesting to Maggie that she was de
irop in the Grantham establishment, Lady Torchester invited
Maggie to drive with her after luncheon on the Saturday
when Lord Torchester and Mr. Trafford were expected to
dinner.
" Yes ; pray go," said Miss Grantham. " It will be a little
change for you."
" And Margaret, my dear," observed Lady Torchester as
she was leaving the room, " I need not impress upon you the
importance of extreme quiet ; pray do not see Torchester or
Geoff, should they arrive before I return. They are both so
pleased to see you are better that they will talk too much ;
but, indeed, I scarcely expect Geoffrey. Torchester did not
think he would come till to-morrow."
" Oh, do not be uneasy," replied Miss Grantham Maggie
thought, a little evasively.
The drive was very tranquil and unexciting until Lady
Torchester began to talk of Miss Grantham ; her wonderful
recovery ; Maggie's admirable devotion ; the evident profound
attachment she felt toward her charming employer ; and that
it would be, no doubt, a pang to part, should Miss Grantham
(as was most likely) be ordered to the south of France or
Italy. But the whole family were aware of the obligations
they were under to Miss Grey ; and, whatever occurred, Miss
Grey's interests should not suffer.
Maggie felt painfully puzzled. Why did Lady Torchester
speak in this way to her as if to let her know she was to be
pensioned off and swept out of the life with which she had
so far been identified ? Could it be possible Miss Grantham
had commissioned her to speak thus, in order to rid herself
of an obligation ? No ! her heart at once replied. Margaret
Grantham was too frank, and true, and generous, to employ
any go-between to do or say that from which she would her-
self shrink.
So she listened with a choking sensation, said very little,
allowed the countess to entangle herself in her talk ; and
that lady, observing her companion's reticence, decided that
472 THE WOOING ffT.
Miss Grey was a designing little minx, exceedingly dangerous
as an inmate, and certainly to be got rid of.
While poor Maggie was undergoing this mild species of
torture, Trafford and the earl arrived at the Beeches. On
finding that the countess was out driving with Miss Grey,
both gentlemen strolled out into the grounds, not venturing
to present themselves to Miss Grantham in the absence of
both her guardians.
That young lady, however, espied them from her window.
and Despatched Cdcile to summon Mr. Trafford to her
presence.
It was more than Margaret Grantham's eager, indulged
nature could brook to wait the countess' return for that
interview she had so longed for and anticipated. Not even
Maggie, though she had her suspicions, had anything like a
correct idea of the burning, craving desire which possessed Miss
Grantham to right herself with Trafford, as she termed it in
her own mind, by which she meant to remove the impression
that she was hopelessly in love with him herself, and convey
the idea that she was impelled to speak to him as she did at
Eastnor by a temporary whim, principally induced by a
generous desire to retrieve his fortune.
Then if she could succeed in persuading him that she had
fallen back upon a mere sisterly affection, he might begin to
think of what he had lost, or perhaps, confide to her on
whom he had bestowed his affections ; and who could it
possibly be was a question that returned again and again to
perplex her in vain. For, considering Trafford's various
wanderings, it might have been some Indian, Canadian,
Egyptian, Persian, or Norwegian beauty that had captivated
him. " And I am sure she is married," was generally Miss
Grantham's conclusion, "for Geoffrey Trafford is not the
man to let a trifle stand between him and a woman he really
loved." One dim, preposterous suspicion sometimes flitted
across her fancy, to be chased thence as too ridiculous, too
absurd , it was the idea that little Maggie Grey might have
been the secret cause of Trafford's mysterious visits to Mrs.
Berry. But this was impossible. Maggie, though the dearest
creature, and very nice, was quite plain at times, and scarcely
ever absolutely pretty; and that a man like Trafford,
accustomed to the crime de la creme of society, to the fairest
women, to herself ! should bestow a thought on so very
unpretending a little blossom, was indeed a pretending idea.
Vet that drive in the Bois de Boulogne described by Madame
THE WOOING O*T.
473
De Beaumanoir, she could never quite get over that, in spite
of Miss Grey's frank explanation.
These thoughts thronged her brain for the hundred and
fiftieth time while she waited for Mr. Trafford to appear.
What an age it seemed since Cecile left the room. At last
the door reopened, Cecile said " Entrez monsieur" and he was
in her presence once more.
" My dear Margaret I am so glad to see you again ! "
He was kind and cordial, but there was no trace of the over-
powering emotion that nearly choked poor Lord Torchester.
Miss Grantham found it less easy to reply. She did not
before know how weak she was. How delightful to hear his
voice again ! that pleasantly modulated voice with a ring of
cheerfulness and decision in it.
" Ah, Geoff ! " leaving her hand in his " I thought I should
never see you or any one else again."
" I never quite despaired of you. Though none of us
would like to live through those days of terrible anxiety
again. And now you are looking better than ever."
Trafford drew a chair opposite Miss Grantham's sofa, and
facing the door, to which her back was turned.
A short and slightly embarrassed pause ensued. The awk-
wardness of their last parting was present to the minds of
both. At last Miss Grantham, with a woman's social courage,
and availing herself of the old frank intimacy which had ex-
isted between them for so many years, looked up with a kind
of blushing archness very lovely and attractive, and said, smil-
ing : " Don't suppose, monsieur, that I was simply so ill because
you would neither have half or the whole of Grantham. The
enemy had laid hold of me before that, and I have risen from
the combat clothed and in my right mind. So we are old
friends, and nothing else, once more, eh ? "
Trafford was greatly pleased to hear her speak thus; it
relieved him from a sort of haunting self-reproach ; it con-
firmed the friendly esteem he liked to feel for his fair kins-
woman, and settled the footing of their future intercourse.
" Pray do not suppose me such a conceited blockhead as
to have imagined anything of the kind. I know you well,
dear Margaret ; and I trust, even had circumstances been
different, I should never have taken advantage of what was,
I have no doubt, a generous, momentary impulse."
"You are quite a clairvoyant, Geoff," said Miss -Grantham,
smiling. " So we are friends again. All right." She held
474 THE WOOING OT.
out her hand as she spoke. Trafford took it in both his, and
looking into her face with kindly brotherly admiration :
"What luck some fellow will be in," he said, "some of
these days when he wins this hand and the heart that will go
with it ! "
Miss Grantham shivered slightly. Could she ever bestow
either on any other but this contradictory, provoking creature,
for whom she yet hoped she had some attraction ? " Oh, my
love affairs are all to come," she said, laughing lightly. " I
shall look to you as a chief counsellor when they do come.
Now, tell me all about yourself, dear Geoffrey. What are
you doing ? Tor gives a wonderful account of you. Yet you
do not look broken-hearted."
" On the contrary, I feel remarkably cheerful. I have
taken chambers in (to you) an unknown locality. I flourish
in a horse-hair wig and a black gown the greater part of every
day, to see if I can get a bite that is, a brief. My sitting-
room is as solemn as ranges of law books, papers, ink and
red tape can make it. And after the long vacation you will
perhaps see in The Times law reports some mention of Mr.
Trafford being with Cuddlestone, Q. C., or Kerridge, Q. C. r
or the celebrated Sergeant Eglantine. Then, if you have any
regard for the success of your kinsman, pray for the sickness
or sudden death of any or all of these eminent counsel, and
so shall I have a chance of addressing ' My lord ' or ' the
gentlemen of the jury.' "
" But is it not awfully triste^ Geoff, all alone in such a place ?
Do you never ride, or dine at the club, or go anywhere ? "
" I have no horses, and ' I haven't got no club.' I have
broken with my past life, and have gone in for work. But I
never felt less tristesse. I have no time for it. You must not
suppose that I am living up a court or down an alley. Gray's
Inn is a very distinguished locality. I tell you what it is,
Margaret, when you are better and stronger, you and Ldy
Torchester must come to luncheon with me. It will be en-
tirely new ground to you. I will receive you in my court
dress, and it will be no end of a lark."
Miss Grantham clapped her hands in childish delight at
the idea. She would be quite equal to lunch at Gray's Inn
next week. It would be so new and droll. " And we will
have Torchester." The young heiress was radiant ; she had
not felt so happy since that last meeting at Eastnor. . Trafford.
was just about to reply, when the door opened gently.
Miss Grantham's eyes were on her companion's face, antf
THE WOOING O-T. 475
she was suddenly struck and silenced hy the expression which
flashed across it a quick vivid gleam of irrepressible joy
a something she had never read in it before ; and the next
moment it was gone, and Trafford's face was hard and quiet
as usual. He rose, however, but did not speak or advance
from his place.
" Who is it ? " asked Miss Grantham, feeling certain whose
voice would answer.
" Maggie," was the reply, as that culprit hesitated at the
threshold of the door. " I thought you were alone ; " for
Lady Torchester had been informed, on reaching home, that
" My lord and Trafford had arrived about an hour ago, and
had gone out in the grounds."
" Well, come in," said Miss Grantham, with just a tinge of
impatience in her tone.
Maggie obeyed, and advanced to the invalid's sofa.
" We meet under brighter circumstances than when last 1
had, I must say, the pain of seeing you, Miss Grey," observed
Mr. Trafford, drawing a chair forward.
"Yes, it was a terrible time then." Maggie kept her eyes
carefully averted. She was greatly annoyed at having broken
in upon this tete-a-tete, and not a little disturbed by such a
sudden meeting with Trafford.
" I am surprised and charmed to find Miss Grantham look-
ing so marvelously well better, I mean than I had hoped ;
the result, I suppose, of sound health and good care." A
slight bow to Maggie.
" Have you had a pleasant drive ? " asked Miss Grantham,
languidly.
" Oh, yes ; and as you are not alone, I will leave you. I
shall be in my room, if you want me."
Trafford crossed to the door, and opened it for her. She
bent her head in acknowledgment, but kept her eyes on the
ground.
"Yes," said Trafford, resuming his seat, and looking
quickly and keenly into his companion's face ; " a luncheon
at Gray's Inn will be an adventure for you, and cast a halo
round my dingy chambers which will light them up for many
a day. However, as their dimensions are by no means mag-
nificent, we must not indulge in too large a party. We will
allow Lady Torchester one parson, and yourself one adorer
besides Tor, always provided it be not Sir Hugh Erskine;
and I am to be permitted to introduce two natives in or out
sf the costume of the country."
476 THE WOOING O'T.
Miss Grantham's attention was caught and amused by this
quick resumption of the subject, as Trafford intended it
should, for he had noticed the sudden change in her voice
and face as Maggie entered.
" Poor Sir Hugh ! " said she, with a slight coquetry' of man-
ner. " Why do you dislike him ? He is very nice."
" Oh, for a complication of reasons or no reason."
" I found a hetacomb of his cards when I was atle to look
at such things. Is he still in town ? "
" That I cannot tell. I know town in your sense no
longer."
" But, Geoffrey, you cannot keep this up ; you cannot live
always apart from every one and everything you have been
used to ? "
" I think I shall. Moreover, I do not think I have much
choice. And you must remember I never degenerated into a
regular London man. I belong to a wider circle. Will you
cut me altogether when I have settled thoroughly to my place
and have got my shoulder to the collar ? "
" Geoffrey ! " said Miss Grantham, with what seemed to
Trafford an alarming tender intonation.
" You must not let me stay too long," he resumed, " I
do not feel at all inclined to go, but I ought not to tire you."
"You do not not in the least. Do you know, Geoff, as
we are going to be faster friends than ever, you really ought
to tell me whom you are engaged to, just as a mark of con-
fidence."
This most unexpected attack surprised and rather nettled
him. He thought it indiscreet of his fair kinswoman, to say
the least.
" Engaged ! " he repeated. Who says I am engaged ? "
" I thought I understood you were," replied Miss Grant-
ham, a little faltering.
" I have not taken vows of celibacy," said Trafford, smil-
ing ; " and possibly one of these days when I make that
famous speech which is to carry away judge and jury, and
prove that black is white, when solicitors grow obsequious
and briefs numerous, I may present a Mrs. Geoffrey Trafford
to you ; but it is rather a remote contingency."
" She must be very nice, Geoff a thorough gentlewoman,
remember, or I shall have nothing to say to either of you."
Her words and tone struck Trafford as peculiar ; but he
replied at once carelessly, with a pleasant laugh, " I trust she
will meet with your approbation ; but however mistaken my
THE WOOING O'T. 477
judgment will be, it is probable I shall be principally anxious
to please myself."
" A defiance of my opinion," thought Miss Grantham, who
paused before replying in some uncertainty. And while she
hesitated, Lady Torchester, having divested herself of her
out-door dress, came in to bestow some of her society on the
invalid.
" You here, Geoffrey ! " exclaimed the countess, feeling an
unusual degree of annoyance at sight of her nephew in such
close and friendly conversation with the heiress. " I thought,
Margaret, you said you would not see any one till I came
back ? "
" Did I ? Well, I ought not to have said so, for it is so
long since I saw Geoff, I was sure not to wait till you came
in."
" Has Miss Grey been with you since we returned ? "
" Yes ; she just looked in, and went to take off her bon-
net."
" I am surprised she did not mention Geoffrey was here."
Maggie rose twenty per cent, in Miss Grantham's estima-
tion.
" As I am evidently a transgressor, I shall depart," said
Trafford.
" Oh, I am delighted to see you, Geoffrey ; but I am so
anxious that Margaret should not be imprudent or over-exert
herself. It would be so terrible to have her thrown back
while she is under my care."
" Or any one else's, I imagine. Well, I will go and look
for Torchester."
" And tell him I will see him this evening, after he has
dined. But he must come up in good time. I go to my room
at nine."
CHAPTER XXXVI.
"GEOFFREY," said Lady Torchester, as she sat in tho
drawing-room window, after their five o'clock Sunday dinner
the next evening, " I scarcely think that is wise or prudent,"
and she nodded toward a couple who were leisurely strolling:
to and fro on the soft, mossy grass of the pleasure ground,
where the spreading beech trees sheltered them from the
478 THE WOOING OT.
evening sun. The couple of course were the earl and Mag
gie.
Trafford rose from his semi-recumbent position in an easy
chair, and looked out gravely and steadily before he re-
plied.
" I do not think you have any cause for alarm, my dear
aunt. I imagine Torchester is quite safe in that quarter."
" I am by no means sure. I cannot quite make out that
little Miss Grey. It must be an enormous temptation ; and
she is so very uncommunicative. I confess I cannot share
your and Margaret's infatuation about her."
" Why because you are afraid Tor is too fond of her ?"
" Not altogether ; but she has a way of adhering to her
own opinions, which are far from orthodox, not becoming in
a young person. Not, I admit, that she does so rudely she
is very well bred but I do not think her a good companion
for Margaret, who, though she is very fond of her, is, I can
see from some conversation we had this morning, not so
averse to part with her as I expected."
" And yet this unorthodox companion risked her life for
Margaret little more than two months ago."
" So did the nurse, or nurses ; though I am far from deny-
ing that we all owe a debt of gratitude to Miss Grey. I
.should be the last to deny it. But should Margaret consult
you, Geoffrey, as she may probably, for you have a large
amount of influence with her a remarkable amount," re-
peated the Countess, rather peevishly, " I hope you will say
nothing to induce Margaret to keep her."
" Margaret must be considerably changed, or different
from what I imagine her, if she would readily part with Mag-
gie Grey."
" It is astonishing to me the familiarity with which you all
speak of Miss Grey and to her."
" To her ! No, I should not dare to call her by her
Christian name deliberately," said Trafford, laughing, but
-dimly conscious that he had done so on one or two occasions.
" Come, my dear aunt, be true to your better and unconven-
tional instinct ; trust to Miss Grey's rectitude, and your son's
preoccupation. Can't you see he is fathoms deep in love
with our fair Margaret ? And if you only let things alone,
all will be as you wish."
" As I wish, Geoffrey ? " echoed Lady Torchester. " You
.know I do not permit myself to form worldly projects. I am
attached to dear Margaret, and in spite of faith, the weaknase
THE WOOING OT. ^9
cf the flesh makes me anxious for my son's future, though I
ought to trust it to a higher power. Nevertheless "
" The carriage is at the door, my lady," announced the
butler.
Lady Torchester looked unhappy and undecided. It was
her habit on Sunday evenings to attend the ministrations of a
Wesleyan preacher, whose " awakening discourses " were
calculated to counteract the drowsy influences of summer
heat. The energetic volubility and startling denunciations of
the broad-shouldered, thick-necked Wesleyan acted as a spir-
itual dram upon her ladyship's nervous system, and wound up
the Sunday's devotion in a satisfactory fashion. But on the
present occasion she was in doubt. On the one side was the
word of comfort and exhortation, on the other, four contuma-
cious and wrong-headed young people, who, the moment she
was out of sight, would pair off exactly as they ought not ;
for sundry small indications in Miss Grantham's talk and!
manner had suggested dim uncomfortable suspicions of the
family mentor. It was possible that Margaret Grantham might
prefer her nephew to her son, and, if so, the countess' soul
might be exercised thereby ; but she could neither prevent it
nor complain. All this " nished through her brain " as she
hesitated ; and Geoffrey, who had also been thinking while
he watched her countenance, exclaimed : " It is too bad that
you should be bored in this way, or be cut off from your usual
Sunday routine. Go to church or meeting, or whatever it is,
with a quiet mind. I will play dragon, and, trust me, Tor-
chester shall not have a word alone with poor Miss Grey
during your absence. I will take her to church myself, if you
wish it ? " He spoke with much animation, and a half-
suppressed smile.
" My dear Geoffrey, that would be quite unnecessary.
However, as you are going to remain at home, I think I may
as well drive over to Salem Chapel as usual." And the
countess sailed away.
Trafford stood for a few minutes in thought, and then step-
ping through the open window, joined Lord Torchester and
Maggie, who had been enjoying a pleasant desultory talk,
chiefly about Miss Grantham, but occasionally glancing at
their Paris experiences ; for having once got over the
awkwardness of alluding to them, and finding Miss Grey per-
fectly frank and kindly, there was no one except Miss
Grantham to whom the earl liked talking better.
" Had this young fellow's heart remained empty, sweptj.
480 THE WOOING G'T.
and garnished," thought Trafford, as he approached them,
" until he had again encountered the old love, she would haves
entered in and effected a stronger lodgment than ever. His
last state would have been infinitely worse than the first. It
was lucky he fell in with Margaret. Lucky for who ? " Leaving
his profound question unanswered, he addressed Maggie
* ( I suppose it is permissible to join you ? "
"Of course," said Miss Grey, quickly.
" I suppose so, ' said the earl, slowly.
" Tor ! your mother is just starting for Bethel, or Kadesh
barnea, or some such place ; it would be a graceful attention
on your part to accompany her."
" So it would be on yours ! No, thank you, Master Geoff !
I prefer the quiet of the Beeches, and Miss Grey's conversa-
tion."
" She is not going to converse with you any longer. Miss
Grey, will you do me the favor to ask Miss Grantham if I may
come up and see her ? I leave late this evening, you know, that
I may be at the oar or the quill in good time to-morrow."
Maggie smiled, nodded to him, and departed.
" Shall I warn Torchester of his mother's suspicions ? "
thought Trafford to himself. " No ; it would perhaps arouse
dangerous associations, and do more harm than good."
Lord Torchester lit a cigar. " I hope you'll find Margaret
in a better temper than I did this morning ; she was perfectly
savage. I should have given her back some of her snubs,
only she looked so delicately handsome I couldn't."
" Don't let her get too much the better of you."
" I don't intend it.*'
"Her ladyship wishes to know if my lord, or you, sir, would
like to go to evening service. Miss Grantham will see Mr.
Trafford."
" Miss Grey might have come back. What am /to do ? "
To the servant, " I will come and put Lady Torchester into
the carriage." And the earl walked away.
As the countess descended the stairs she met Trafford going
up.
" I am going to say good-bye to Margaret," he said, in reply
to her questioning look.
" Do not stay too long," said her ladyship, coldly and went
her way, less inclined to pay profound attention to the rever-
end Wesleyan's utterances than she expected. "Geoffrey
closeted with Margaret ! Then what would Torchester ana
Mat Miss Grey be about ? "
THE WOOING OT. 481
Meantime "that" Miss Grey, having made her arrange-
ments with Miss Grantham, slipped away, unperceived by any
one, to a quiet little church in the neighborhood, where a
kindly, mellow-voiced, rather old fashioned clergyman read
the prayers, as if he were the mouth-piece of a rational
congregation offering up "a reasonable service," instead of
reducing them to an inarticulate incantation. It was very
sweet to Maggie to rest there on this calm summer evening,
and listen to the familiar rhythm of those dear, well-known
prayers, venerable if only for the respite they have brought
to many a wear}-, storm-shaken heart.
The evening sen-ice always transported her back to her
happy, childish days, to her mother, to the dusky, solemn old
cathedral of Altringham, where her love of beauty, her first
dim consciousness of an inner life, quite distinct from, though
not at variance with, the outer world, had dawned. Was it
never to be her lot to know home again ? Why was it that
Lady Torchester seemed averse to her remaining where she
was ? What was the vague, faint coldness in Miss Grantham's
manner all that day and the previous evening, varied, certainly,
iy warm but unconnected expressions of gratitude ? It was
beyond her power to imagine. She only knew that directly
Mr. Trafford appeared upon the scene, trouble and unpleas-
antness was sure to find her out.
But while she listened to the hymns so sweetly sung, the
prayers so devoutly read, a soft, sad composure settled down
upon her heart not hope, not content, but woman's peculiar
virtue, resignation,
It was not yet quite dark when Maggie came out of church,
and she turned into the grounds at a small gate, of which she
carried the key. It was a longer and more sombre way than
by the road, but Maggie wanted to be alone ; and, resting her-
self on one of the rustic seats with -.vhich the path was ac-
commodated, she could not keep the tears from rising and
overflowing their boundaries. She could not tell why such
unusual sadness oppressed her, and in all probability it was
in some measure the result of the great strain which she had
borne during Miss Grantham's illness. And now, to think
any cloud should arise between her and that dear patient,
who was all the dearer for the care and anxiety she had cost !
Why does she not open her heart to me ! Why does she let
any one in the world come between us ? I can be no obstacle
to any wish of hers. Thinking thus, Maggie arose up and
hastened toward the house, intending to gain her own room
482 THE WOOING OT.
and compose herself before encountering any one. Just as
she reached the entrance, where the lights from the hall
streamed out upon the steps, some one came up behind her
quickly.
" So you returned by the grounds, Miss Grey ? Hearing
you had gone to church, I thought you might have no objec-
tions to an escort back; so I went up the road to meet you,"
said Trafford coming to her side.
" Oh, you are very good. I do generally return by the
road." Maggie was infinitely annoyed to be found with
traces of tears on her cheek by Trafford. She could not
avoid him ; she was obliged to meet his eyes the eyes she
loved and dreaded while the moisture still clung glistening
on her own long lashes.
" What is the matter ? Forgive me, but I am an old friend,
now. I fear some one or something has distressed you. Can
I not be some help ? " He bent down to her, looking eagerly
into her eyes and at her trembling lips.
This encounter completed Maggie's disorganization ; she
struggled hard to steady her voice as she replied :
" You are quite mistaken ; there is nothing the matter.
The church was warm ; the hymns the music the "
Her tears welled up again. " I have been low and nervous
since Miss Grantham's illness."
" Exactly ; I guessed as much," said Trafford standing in
her way. " Still, you are not the kind of a girl to cry for
nothing. Will you be vexed if I write and ask your trou-
bles ? "
" For Heaven's sake, no ! " cried Maggie, her terror at
such a proposition restoring her self-possession. "You mean
to be kind you are kind but I have no right to ask your help
or sympathy, nor you to know my small troubles." Turning a
little to one side she slipped past him ; but, as suddenly paus-
ing, came back quickly, and, holding out her hand, she look-
ed full in his face with an impulse of confidence. " Do not
think me ungrateful or ungracious," she said, " but I can not
talk to you to-night." She drew her hand quickly from him
and ran up the steps to her own room.
Trafford looked after her for a moment, and, turning away,
walked slowly into the shadow of the trees in deep thought.
" Has Miss Grey not returned from church yet ? " asked
Miss Grantham, as she was preparing to retire for the night.
"Oui, mademoiselle, elle vient de retourner ce moment
avec monsieur qu'il est alle la chercher."
THE WOOING O'T. 483
" Indeed ! " said Miss Grantham, and made a mental note
of it.
" I am a little late," exclaimed Maggie, entering a few
minutes after ; " but it was fine and sweet. I returned by
the grounds."
" With Mr. Trafford ? " said Miss Grantham, carelessly.
" No ; I met him at the door." Maggie was quite steady
and composed now ; she felt the desperate necessity of keep-
ing herself from drifting into a dangerous nondescript liason
with Trafford, which could only cause her pain and grief, and
who was ready to respect and resent anything like friendship
or familiarity with the object of her own affections.
Miss Grantham was silent for a while : after looking earn-
estly at her companion, " Maggie " she said, "you have been
crying : have you had any bad news ? what is the matter ? "
She spoke with her own frank, kindly voice and manner.
" There is nothing the matter, except that the service and
the music this evening ' struck the electric chain ' and sent
me back to my early days." And Maggie, glad to be on a
safe subject, spoke a little more than usual of her memories ;
she spoke well too, with a natural picturesqueness that inter-
ested her listener.
" Maggie," she said, after both had dropped into silence,
"what a pity your cousin John Grey is not charming and
lovable I It would have such a nice wind-up for you to have
married the faithful friend and champion of your troubled
days."
" Yes I have always regretted it too," returned Maggie,
laughing ; " but it was quite impossible."
" It was ? " said Miss Grantham, gravely ; " whether you
had met any one more acceptable or not ? "
"I have met no one," replied Maggie, shaking her head.
" I have certainly seen more polished people ; but even had I
lived in an enchanted island, I could never have made John
my Ferdinand."
Miss Grantham laughed, and then asked Maggie to read
her to sleep.
The great event of the next week was that Miss Grantham
once more joined the general circle at dinner. Great was the
rejoicing thereat.
Of course the Earl came down from town to hand his cou-
sin to the dining-room, and the countess further enlivened the
occasion by inviting her favorite curate. the Reverend
484 THE WOOING O'T.
Augustus Blackmore, at present in town for the May Meetings,
as also the favored Grantham rector, whose visit to the
metropolis had reference to the Royal Academy and the
Archbishop's levee. Maggie was among the guests, with the
countess' full approbation. Matrimony with the Reverend
Augustus would be an excellent solution of all her difficulties
respecting that inconvenient young person ; and whether, with
the tact of his calling, the Reverend A. B. divined the wishes
of his patroness, or followed the bent of his own inclination?
it is not for commonplace mortals to judge, but he certainl)
bestowed a good deal of polite attention on the favorite com-
panion ; and Maggie was very well pleased to talk with him ;
he was good humored and passably well-bred.
The countess was content. Her son seemed quite devoted
to Miss Grantham, and the rector was kindly and patronizing
to her pet curate.
The next important occurrence, and very important it proved,
was a visit of condolence and recognition paid by Lord Tor-
Chester and his mother to the unfortunate family solicitor.
Trafford had, for some time, been anxious that his aunt
should accomplish this act of courtesy.
Mr. Bolton had been on terms of unusual intimacy with his
noble clients. It had been an old family connection on both
sides, and being himself a man of good birth and excellent
education, Mr. Bolton was quite fitted to take his part in such
society.
With Trafford's father and mother he had been a great fa-
vorite. His happiest hours had been passed with them, and
his affection and regard for their son was probably the deep-
est feeling cherished by the kindly old epicurean.
To think that he had been instrumental in his ruin was a
shock too great for his nervous system to bear, and, as we
have seen, he succumbed. Trafford was most desirous that
he should feel the whole family exonerated him from blame,
and now, as he had recovered sufficiently both in strength and
looks to bear such a visit, Lady Torchester agreed to make it.
It took place on the Saturday following, and on Sunday, re-
turning from church, the countess found Mr. Trafford had
come down from town, and had given his arm to Miss Grant-
ham in her first attempt at walking exercise.
Now Miss Grantham was dining down stairs, the dinner
party always included Miss Grey, and Trafford thought, as
they took their places, that she had not yet lost the traces of
the fatigue and anxiety she had undergone.
THE WOOING OT. 485
On this occasion Lady Torchester announced the delights
of the Wesleyan shepherd's discourse, and the family party,
increased by the addition of Mr. Longmore, who had come
down to look after his vested rights in the heritage of Grant-
ham, gathered together in the great bay window of the prin-
cipal drawing-room.
" Now that you are so much better, fair cousin," said Mr c
Longmore, " I suppose you will try some further change
charming as Lady Torchester's villa is."
" Yes," replied Miss Grantham, " I'm thinking of Cowes
for a month. There is to be a great fete at Northumberland
House early in July. I should like to see that, as I have
missed everything else, and then I shall go abroad some-
where."
She spoke languidly, and wore an air of much greater deli-
cacy and weakness than when Trafford had seen her a week
before.
" I think you are right," said he, coming over to sit beside
her. " A little total change of air and scene would do you a
world of good. You would enjoy the continent."
" I am in treaty for a first-rate yacht," said the earl.
" Suppose you and my mother come for a cruise on the Med-
iterranean ? We'll give Miss Grey a berth too, if she is good ! "
" My dear boy," exclaimed the countess, " what an idea! "
" A very good one," said Mr. Longmore, who expected an
invitation. " All the doctors recommend change of air and
scene now."
" Yes," said Trafford, " they are routing out poor Bolton on
that plea ; but it is not so much matter, as he must sell his
house in Connaught Square."
" I understand he has not a shilling left," observed Long-
more.
" Not a shilling of property," said the earl, " but he has a
tolerable income from the firm, which is not touched by his
private transactions."
" What did you think of him yesterday ? " asked Trafford.
l He is sadly altered," replied the countess, " but not SQ
bad as I expected, and altogether his frame of mind is mora
hopeful than I anticipated. Poor man ! I feel so much foi
him. He seems quite to dread going away where he cannot
see you, Geoffrey. It is under such circumstances that a man
misses the care of a wife or daughter. As he said : ' had I a
daughter now, like the young lady who was so good to me at
456 THE WOOING O'T.
Grantham,' meaning you, Miss Grey, ' I should be quite ind*
pendent of the world.' "
" Did he say so ? poor Mr. Bolton," said Maggie, blushing,
as all eyes were turned upon her.
" He has often mentioned Miss Grey to me," remarked
Trafford. " I really wish we could find some cheerful aman-
uensis for him. His old servant is still with him a very re-
spectable fellow but his hieroglyphics would puzzle Gardnet
Wilkinson himself. Now the puzzle is where to send him,,
one place is too far, another too cold."
Whereupon a discussion arose on the merits of various sea-
side places, in the midst of which Maggie spoke a sentence 01
two to Miss Grantham, who immediately exclaimed :
" To be sure Geoffrey, have you never thought of Eastnoi
and Mrs. Berry ? I am sure she is just the person to make
poor Mr. Bolton comfortable."
" Indeed ! Do you think she would care to have an invalid
inmate, Miss Grey ? " said Trafford.
" I will write and ask her if you wish."
" Pray do, Miss Grey," said the countess,. " and let me know
all about it, for I promised Mr. Bolton to find some suitable
locality. Indeed I am anxious to encourage his present frame
-of mind, if possible."
"You are really very good, Lady Torchester,'* observed Mr.
Longmore.
" Thank you, my dear aunt," said Trafford warmly, and the
-conversation flowed into other channels.
But early the next morning Maggie wrote the desired epistle,
and received a speedy reply from Mrs. Berry, whose house
had been empty ever since Miss Grantham and her party had
left Eastnor. She would take the best care she could of the
poor dear gentleman, and if her esteemed young friend would
at any time like a week or two by the sea, she would only be
too happy to see her.
Lady Torchester was delighted with this letter and the terms
proposed. Having made Maggie copy out the business por-
tion of it, she departed one brilliant morning to communicate
the trouvaille to Mr. Bolton, with a small cargo of tracts and
awakening works, a basket of fruit, and a large bouquet gath
ered and arranged by Maggie, with the head gardener's per-
mission and under his superintendence.
Mr. Bolton had suddenly become an object to the countess,
who was naturally a kind-hearted, if not a very sympathetic
woman. The utter annihilation of his tendency to uphold
THE WOOING O'T. 487
worldly and " damnable doctrines," which, like everything ap-
pertaining to self-assertion, had been crushed out of him by
his misfortunes and illness, encouraged her ladyship to hope
that a radical change had taken place, even in so hardened a
sinner, and that by the application of judicious remedies she
might ere long lead him captive to the feet of the Wesleyan
shepherd. There is nothing dearer to the awakened soul of
an evangelically pious woman than a possible convert, not
yet quite converted. For him is the fatted calf, the uppermost
seat, the tenderest consideration, the most flattering defer-
ence.
And this excitement is irrespective of rank and riches. Be
he peasant or prince, the man who hesitates whether he will
give up his previous habits of thought for years, and exchange
his springs of action for those which move you, is an object
of intense interest, especially -while he hesitates ; and there is
no woman who could abstain from throwing in a make-weight
of petting to turn the balance.
Lady Torchester, therefore, was thoroughly occupied with
Mr. Bolton, and occupied Maggie, in quite a voluminous cor-
respondence with Mrs. Berry, respecting various minutiae.
Miss Grantham and her secretary sometimes laughed a lit
tie good-humoredly at her ladyship's activity. The heiress
was gaining strength, but not very rapidly, and continued to pain
*nd puzzle her friend by her variability of manner. Some-
times cold, sometimes loving, sometimes impatient, poor
Maggie felt each day that the continuance of her present life
was more and more uncertain.
There was much talk of Lady Torchester taking a house at
Cowes, that Miss Grantham should have the benefit of sea-air
and the amusement of seeing, or sailing in, the yacht which
the earl had almost arranged to purchase. Maggie could not
help observing that nothing was said concerning herself. She
tvas in total uncertainty whether she was to be sent to the
town house, or taken with her patroness, or dismissed ; and
she made up her mind to ask Miss Grantham her inten-
tions.
But her opportunities of private communications were not
so frequent as formerly. Miss Grantham was always either
driving out with Lady Torchester or engaged with some
friend or relative who had come down from town expressly to
see her. However, Maggie resolved to make the opportunity
she sought. For that purpose she went to the drawing-room^
with a letter she had just received from Mrs. Berry announc-
4& THE WOOING OT.
ing the safe arrival of Mr. Bolton, and further advising hef
young friend of the peculiar viands prepared for his refresh-
ment, and the remarkable relish he had evinced for the same,
etc., etc.
Lady Torchester was in possession, however, armed with a
piece of Berlin wool-work. So Maggie took refuge in her let*
ten
" Would you care to look at it, Lady Torchester ? The
writing is not very legible, but I can decipher anything you
cannot make out."
" Thank you, my dear Miss Grey," said the countess,
graciously ; " I should like to see what your friend
says."
Miss Grantham, who was pretending to crochet, looked
pale and absent ; she neither looked at, nor spoke to Mag-
gie.
" Very satisfactory, indeed. Could you tell me what this
is ? " asked Lady Torchester.
" Oh ! I think it is intended for ' ravenously.' "
" So it is. Pray sit down, Miss Grey. Margaret and I have
just been speaking about you. I see this Mrs. Berry ex-
presses a great wish to see you again. Would you like to pay
her a visit ? "
"Yes. That is I really do not care much about it. What-
ever Miss Grantham pleases," said Maggie, in uncertainty,
while her heart beat quickly. Was this a first move in a plan
to get rid of her ?
" No, dear Maggie ! " cried Miss Grantham, coloring and
looking up. " It is not exactly what pleases me but what is
kindest and best to do. Lady Torchester had a talk with
Mr. Trafford and the earl, on Monday, at Mr. Bolton's, and
they agreed, that if the poor old man is lonely and moped,
down at Eastnor, it will counteract all the good he might
derive from going there ; so one or other of them suggested
that you might go down and stay with Mrs. Berry ; then you
could pay him a visit every day, a -.id read to him, or anything
of that kind if I could spare you. Of course, I could spare
you, though I shall miss you much ; but pray, do not think
you are obliged to go. Do just as you like."
" Of course, you will do just as you like," echoed the coun-
tess. " But I thought it an excellent suggestion of Lord
Torchester's. You see there will be no one to cheer him up.
Geoffrey says it is quite out of the question that he can run
down even for a day ; and I think it is an opportunity of
THE WOOING OT. 489
doing good to a fellow-creature \\hich ought not to be
lost."
" I am sure, Lady Torchester, I shall be very pleased to be
of any use to Mr. Bolton. I shall be very pleased to go down
and stay at Eastnor, if Miss Grantham wishes it." Maggie
had collected her forces, and rapidly reviewed her position.
Moreover, there was something in Miss Grantham 's kind,
natural manner that revived her courage.
" Thank you, Maggie," replied that lady, with a pleasant
smile ; " and it will do you good also. You must want change,
after all you have gone through for me. Why, you will ba
glad not to see me for a little while."
" Glad not to see you ! Ah! Miss Grantham "Mag-
gie stopped abruptly and eloquently.
" Pray, can you tell me," asked the countess, who had
been counting the stitches in a parrot's beak, with which she
was elaborately decorating a large square of canvas " pray,
can you tell me if the gospel is preached at Eastnor ? "
As Miss Grantham remained silent. Maggie thought her-
self bound to reply ; " There is a very High Church there,"
she said, a little timidly, for it was a portentous subject,
" where there was a great deal of very ridiculous ceremony ;
but I remember going to an Independent chapel, or some
Dissenting chapel, a little whitewashed place in the fisher
village : and I was very much struck with the sermon, and the
service altogether ; it gave me more the idea of a whole con-
gregation Worshipping God, than any I had ever seen ; they
seemed to sing and pray with all their hearts.
" My dear Miss Grey ? " cried Lady Torchester, laying
down her work, " I am very pleased to hear you speak in this
way. I feared that you were infected by that spirit of luke-
wajmness and unbelief too common to the young of the
present day. I am more than ever anxious that you should
be with our afflicted friend, and I trust you will lose no
opportunity of pressing the truth upon him."
" Maggie is the most religious girl I know," said Miss
Grantham, with a bright, approving smile. " Well, you had
better write to Mrs. Berry, and make your arrangements.
We are going to Cowes next week, and when I have settled
my plans for the summer you can join me again."
" And you had better mention to Mrs. Berry," said the
elder and more thoughtful lady, " that we do not want to
quarter you upon her to suit our convenience ; that although
nominally a visitor, she must consider you as a boarder,
490 THE WOOING O'T.
You will settle all that, and let me know ; pray let it be clear
and defined."
Feeling half stupefied by the sudden and unexpected man-
ner in which she was " told off her detachment duty," Maggie
retired to collect her thoughts and to write.
Having written and despatched her letter, Maggie sat on,
trying to understand why Miss Grantham was so ready to
part with her. Though Mr. Bolton's sincere admiration had
always made him a pet with Miss Grantham, Maggie was
well aware she would not have sacrificed so much of comfort
as seemed to depend on herself, had not some other motive
been at work.
She was very pleased to go and see Mrs. Berry ; very glad
to be of use to Mr. Bolton ; but both feelings were tinged by
a gnawing, painful impression that she would never again be
with Miss Grantham on the same happy footing. That this
separation was only the preliminary to one more painful and
more permanent.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
WHEN money is no object, obstacles melt rapidly, and very
Alps of circumstances dissolve in a wonderful manner.
Mrs. Berry wrote in such unmistakable joy at the prospect
of her young friend's visit, that her orthography, syntax, and
prosody were, to use one of her own expressions, " all in a
muddle."
" It is just the best thing Mr. Bolton's friends could do for
him to send you down. It makes me quite in a fidget to see
the dear old gentleman sitting there without nothing to do ;
and his man, Thomas, a nice, civil-spoken, respectable person
as you would like to see, can't read well. I tried once or
twice, but they do put such 'orrid hard words in the papers,
and my throat gets that dry and ticklish, that what with
smothering a cough, and trying to read distinct I thought I
would have choked. You see Mr. Bolton can read a little
while, and then he turns giddy. He is out a good deal, and
has his meals regular, and that helps on pretty well, but the
evenings is tedious. I have had rather a fright lately. The
milkman told my Sarah there was a foreign-looking swell at
the Ship Hotel inquiring for me ; and I thought it must be
the count regular cleaned out, and coming to see what he
THE WOOING &T. 49*
could pick up so I was afraid to go out doors, till one morn-
ing who should go by but Kockanowska, the Pole, as used to
smash my piano every Wednesday evening in Paris the
money that I have paid repairing after him would keep a
poor family ! Well, with that I got my bonnet on and went
out, and I soon stumbled on my gentleman. He was very
bad off, and was wanting to set up as a professor of the
piano. He wanted me to recommend him to Miss Monitor
the grand school at Sea-view House but I just told him -I
would do nothing of the sort ; that I had had enough of the
count and his followers, and that I would be more like to de-
nounce him as a gambler ; so he is gone. He couldn't, or
wouldn't, tell me anything of the count : but, anyhow, this
house and furniture is my trustee's, not mine, so he could not
do me much harm.
" I am so pleased to think of seeing you ; try and come
down Tuesday next at the latest."
" This letter with all its imperfections on its head, was
shown to Miss Grantham, because of certain business arrange-
ments contained in the first page. She smiled good-humor-
edly over it, and then exclaimed, " It must have been a
dreadful task, Maggie, to be companion to such an ignorant
woman."
" No, somehow it was not, and yet she was very selfish ;
but I was really of value to her, and felt it, so I grew posi-
tively fond of her."
" I cannot understand it," said Miss Grantham. " I must
ask Lady Torchester," she continued, " to settle about our
leaving for Cowes on Monday or Tuesday. I could not bear
to stay here after you are gone. I shall miss you terribly,.
Maggie."
" Then why do you send me away ? " cried Maggie, with
an irresistible impulse, her eyes filling up. " I know I have
displeased or annoyed you in some way ! It would be kinder
to tell me so at once than let me fret and puzzle over it as I
do. Is it, really and truly, only to make Mr. Bolton comfort-
able that you send me away ? "
" My dear girl, why will you torment yourself ? " began
Miss Grantham, in a slightly constrained manner, and look-
ing down ; then she hesitated, and raising her eyes quickly to
her friend, exclaimed, " There, I cannot tell you polite
stories ! There is a little something fretting me, though you
are not the least to blame. I cannot solve the riddle for you
now, and you must not ask me. When we meet again I
492 THE WOOING O'T.
shall probably tell you everything ; foi the present we had
better part ; but do not fear, my friendship for you will not
and shall not be shaken. You are true as steel, and, besides,
I can never forget. Don't look miserable, Maggie ; we shall
be better friends than ever when we meet again ; " and she
held out her hand.
" When we meet," said Maggie, with a half sob, as she
pressed and kissed the hand held out to her. " I feel as if
we shall never be together again as we are now." And, un-
able to regain composure, she hastily left the room.
During the days which intervened, Miss Grantham was very
tender in her manner, and considerate, but she evidently
never wavered for a moment in her intention to expel poor
Maggie, for a while at least, from the paradise of her pres-
ence. Lady Torchester, too, was most benign, and Maggie
could not help thinking, with a smile, that the exceeding ami-
ability of every one was rather like " les demurs moments
Tune condamn'ee."
Lord Torchester was the only one who did not seem quite
content with the arrangement.
" Capital thing for old Bolton ; but what will you do with-
out Miss Grey, Margaret ?"
" Oh ! I must try and manage. But, Tor, was it not you
who suggested her going down to Eastnor ? "
" Me ? No ; certainly not. It was between my mother
and Geoffrey Trafford."
" Was it ? I thought you were the originator ? What has
become of Geoff ? he has not been here for ten days."
" I don't know. He is busy, I suppose. He says he
will come down and see us at Cowes. He is, or used to be,
a first-rate seaman."
And Maggie, too, wondered and regretted a little that Mr.
Trafford did not come to the Beeches ; that he had never
made the most distant approach to a private conversation
since the Sunday evening she had broken so abruptly from
him.
Sometimes she wished she had not ; was it not prudery and
bad taste in her to avoid what was probably only his friendly
kindly wish to sympathize and, if possible, to assist hei LE
she wanted assistance ? If she had consented to /et him
write, what would he have written ? It was of course, much
better not to receive a letter from him. Miss Grantham
would have divined that she had one the moment she looked
in her face, and all sorts of mischief would have ensued*
THE WOOING ffT. 493
still Maggie was a little surprised he had not written. She
was not aware how fervent was her exclamation, " For Heav-
en's sake, no ! " when Trafford suggested such a proceeding.
At all events he did not write, and Maggie was at once re-
lieved, and the least little bit disappointed. She had quite
given up all the stormy struggling with which she used to tear
her brave little heart. Do what she would, this man had so
entwined himself with her inner life that she could fight
against the idea no longer.
Yet this was no ignoble defeat no folding of the hands in
helplessness. She would be as active as she could be, as dil-
igent in self-culture, and time would gradually dim the out-
lines now so vivid and so dear. He should never know this
folly no, he should never have a glimpse of it though he
understood Her alarmingly well. But what was this knowl-
edge compared i j her intense comprehension of him ? There
was not a -lance of his eye, tender, or impatient, or scornful,
not a gesture, not an attitude, not an inflection of his voice,
the tones of wi.ich were so well trained and guarded, that did
not betray too readily the citadel of thoughts which she could
read by the light of an affection, pure, deep, and discriminat-
ing as ever lodged in mortal heart ; and hidden almost from
her own eye lay the conviction that at all events he had some
feeling beyond common liking and esteem for herself, though
not enough to make him bridge over the wide space between
rheir social positions. But he had never trifled with her
never shown the smallest want of respect for her ; and it was
this quiet, undemonstrative self-control that had so deeply
impressed her.
Thinking vaguely in this strain, and telling herself that at
Eastnor there was little or no chance of being disturbed by a
visit from Mr. Trafford, Maggie performed her packing up.
With a few tears, and a hearty embrace, she parted with
Miss Grantham, not caring to own how sad a presentiment
of separation weighed upon her. Lady Torchester and the
fair invalid were to start the same afternoon for Cowes, es-
corted by the earl ; while Maggie proposed to sleep at P
Square, in order to gather together all her belongings ; for by
some curious impulse of that prophetic current which runs
through us all just making darkness visible, but seldom or
never offering light enough to guide she felt impelled to
carry her all with her to Mrs. Berry's, lest she might never
return.
Eastnor looked quite a different place under a June sun
494 THE WOOING OT.
and a bright blue sky, and Maggie felt a newer and a brighter
creature after a night's rest. She was most heartily welcome J
by Mrs. Berry.
" I'm sure you have the most wonderful luck, Maggie !
To think how kind all those grand people are to you ; I can't
help thinking you will bring some to me. You ought, you
know; but I must say you are looking regular wore out.*' So
spake Mrs. Berry the next morning, as the two ladies sat at
breakfast. "What a mercy it was Miss Grantham got over
that fever ! we wouldn't have a season at all, if it had gone
out that she had caught her death at Eastnor. Do you think
she had named you in her will ? "
" I never thought of such a thing ; I don't suppose she has
ever made one."
" Well, she ought to ; and put you down for a good round
sum, after all your devotion to her, at the risk of your life."
" How do you know I risked my life ? "
" Didn't the old gentleman up stairs tell me all about it ?
He is uncommon fond of a bit of gossip, and is never tired
of hearing about Lord Torchestet and Mr. Trafford, and
their goings on in Paris. Lord, Maggie, I never seem to have
known what grandees they are, till I heard this old gentle-
man, who is like a nobleman in a small way himself, talk of
them so respectful-like. Tell me what's gone wrong with him,
Maggie ? Something about money matters that's at the
bottom of everything. Not but what I must say Mr. Bolton
is quite the gentleman in his ways and dealings quite lib-
eral."
" Oh 1 he was very rich ; but he lost all his money in that
terrible ' bank failure,' Oldham and Garret, when Mr. Traf-
ford lost all his."
"What! has Trafford lost all his money? Well, I am
sorry ! for a more gentlemanly, polite, pleasant creature I
never, never met ; and ever since the night of that concert,
when your poor cousin came down here, I can't help fancying
that he is sweet upon you, Maggie."
" Mrs. Berry ! How can you fancy such nonsense such
injurious nonsense ? It is infinitely annoying to me to hear
you speak like that."
" Well, no harm's done. You need not color like fire about
it, but them's my notions. Now, will you have another cup
of tea?"
" No, thank you ; and Mrs. Berry, have you nothing for me
THE WOOING 0"T. 495
to do ? I am longing to be busy. Can I not make up your
books, or your bonnets, or something ? "
" Law ! Maggie, do you mean to say you are ready to go to
the old work again for me, now that you are a paying
boarder ? Well, you are a trump, and no mistake ! "
" Ah ! " cried Maggie, rising and going to the back of her
chair, v/here she pressed a light kiss on Mrs. Berry's brow.
" Nothing can obliterate old times with me. Do I not owe
my first emancipation to you ? Can I forget the dear, de-
lightful days in Paris, and all your kindness to me there ?
Why, at the remembrance, I feel equal to manage an ocean
of lace, and an infinitude of ribbon."
Mrs. Berry wiped her eyes. " Don't talk of Paris, my
dear," she said. " I made a bad business of it there ; and I
must say you always warned me. Still, if those vile women
had let the poor count alone but that is neither here nor
there the best thing you can do for me now is to make your-
self agreeable to poor Mr. Bolton, and keep him here, for he
is a good tenant. I'll just step up and say you have come to
pay me a visit, and will be happy to read to him, or any-
thing."
" Do ; and I will not write to Miss Grantham till I have
seen him."
Mrs. Berry's ground-floor consisted of a cheerful drawing-
room, the windows of which commanded the most picuresque
view of old Eastnor ; its irregular redtiled roofs, the fishing-
boats dotting the bay, or drawn up on the beach, the richly
tinted deep brown and black nets hung out to dry, and the
sheltering crag before mentioned ; behind it was another
drawing-room converted into a bedroom for the invalid.
Between these two apartments the once active self-asserting
and somewhat dominant man of business now passed his life.
There, while the full tide of the world poured on, brimming,
seething, ceaseless, with its everlasting rush and roar, he, poor
shattered shred, that so lately shouldered it with the foremost,
now lay motionless, and stranded ; with the sense of failure,
of mistaken judgment, pressing on his slowly awakening
brain : and, worse than all, the consciousness of having drag*
ged down his favorite client with him. He terribly missed
the friendly visits of that sufferer ; his reassuring presence,
his cheerful, easy talk, was more to him than any doctor's
remedy.
When Maggie, on receiving a cordial invitation, entered the
room, she was much touched by the alteration of her fornw
496 THE WOOING 0'7!
acquaintance. He was neither looking so ill, nor was he so
disfigured as she expected. His mouth was very slightly
drawn to one side, scarcely perceptible till he spoke or smiled
But it was in the whole expression of face and figure that s-'ie
perceived the change. He sat so still in his invalid-chair,
there was a sort of hopeless quiet in his attitude ; his fight
hand lay in a sling, the left rested on a small table, which, with
his chair, occupied a bay window. The once keen, defiant
black eyes had a pained, wistful look ; and though neat and well
cared for, there was a limpness about him that showed some
power had departed, never to return.
He smiled and held out his left hand as Maggie approached.
" Very glad to see you ; very good of you to come."
His voice was rather thicker and slower than formerly, but
was not otherwise changed.
" And I am so pleased to see you, Mr. Bolton. I shall be-
so glad if you will let me read to you, or do anything for
you, as you used at Grantham."
And Maggie drew a chair beside him. There was a
warm underglow of kindness and tender consideration toning
her quiet manner like the tinge of rose that gives such a de-
lightful richness to certain neutral grays and fawn colors.
Poor Mr. Bolton felt it very keenly. A sudden gentle life
seemed to flow around him ; a moral Gulf Stream, bringing
warmth and vitality from happier climates.
" And what has brought you down here, my dear young
lady ? "
" Oh, I was a little worn out after all my anxiety about Miss
Grantham, and they thought change would do me good, so I
came down to my old friend, Mrs. Berry."
" A very pleasant arrangement for me. I suspect the best
of fellows, Mr. Trafford, is at the bottom of it. He said how
good it would be if I had such a nurse as Miss Grantham
had, and then we talked of all your kind attention to me at
Grantham. Depend upon it, it was his suggestion. Rather
too bad to send you from one invalid to another."
" Nothing suits me better. And you are scarce an invalid.
You want a companion, not a nurse. I am a companion by
profession. Are the morning papers in yet ? You must set me
to work at once."
" They are not come, and I want to hear your news. Tell
me about Miss Grantham, and the earl, and Mr. Trafford."
The family had supreme interest in Mr. Bolton's eyes, and
half an hour quickly passed in a description of Miss Granfr
THE WOOING OT. 497
ham's illness, recovery, removal to the Beeches, the renewal
of her intercouse with Trafford, etc. Maggie soon perceived
the family adviser's anxiety on this last-named subject, and
saw that the old man proudly reckoned on a brilliant mar-
riage retrieving his favorite's fortune.
Then the papers came ; and when Mr. Bolton's dinner was
brought he was astonished to find that the morning, usually
so long, and tedious, and sad, was gone, almost too fast.
After three or four days it seemed to Mr. Bolton, Mrs. Ber-
ry, and, indeed, to Maggie, that she had been installed for
ages as chief companion, prime mover and prime councillor,
and that in uprooting her the whole edifice of their daily life
must tumble about their ears.
It was many a long year since she had been so busy and so
happy. From her early rising, to her regular half-past ten
retiring, she had not an idle moment for vain or morbid re-
grets.
Mrs. Berry's accounts had to be looked into, and sundry
matters of ornamentation in the house and furniture had to be
attended to, and her own needlework, besides all she did for
Mr. Bolton and a precious hour or two of reading for herself,
which she managed to abstract from every evening. Then she
was thoroughly free of the house. From " turret to founda-
tion stone " she could come and go as she liked. Mrs. Berry
admired her young friend's success too entirely to be anything
save an acquiescent auxiliary. So the delicious home feeling
grew upon Maggie, and though she often thought of Miss
Grantham, and wished she would write more frequently, she
could not help acknowledging to herself that she had never
known anything like the content and repose she now enjoyed
under the brilliant auspices of the beautiful heiress.
Nevertheless Miss Grantham did not neglect her. She
wrote short but kindly notes, from which it appeared she was
very well amused at Cowes, and Lady Torchester wrote long
exordiums directed to the patient, which Mr. Bolton answered
judiciously with Maggie's help and by Maggie's hand.
He often received letters from Mr. Trafford, and loved to
speak of him during their long talks in the bay window or on
the beach, where he was daily wheeled and used to sit, enjoy-
ing the delicious briny air, talking lazily, while Maggie worked,
or listening while she read, or both remaining sympathetically
silent.
" My dear," said the old gentleman one day, after having
kept a long silence, " it is very curious. At one time I
32
498 THE WOOING O'T.
should have thought two days of such a life as I now lead
would have been enough to kill me with misery and mortifica-
tion ; and now I have come to this I should be happy were I
only free from the consciousness of having ruined Mr. Traf.
ford. Yes, I was very successful, and knew all that sort of
pleasure. But I don't think I ever was so happy as I am
now."
" I am so glad to hear you say so ; and I do not think you
need fret about Mr. Trafford. He seems quite energetic and
hopeful. Perhaps he will do better now than he ever would
have done without the incentive of necessity.
" Ah, that does not alter the case to me ! But I trust he
will marry Miss Grantham, and that will set everything right.
You have seen them a good deal together, my dear. Do you
not think it is the most likely termination of matters ? "
Maggie shook her head. " I am no great judge," she said.
" But I do not fancy Mr. Trafford thinks of her."
" Pooh, nonsense ! " replied Mr. Bolton, with some of his
old, quick decision ; " he must. Maggie you must write for
me to Mr. Trafford this evening. He has hitherto been con-
tent with what meagre reports my good Thomas has been able
to send him ; but in his last two letters he has begged me to
use your hand."
' Very well, Mr. Bolton." Very quietly said, but how
quickly beat the heart under its light muslin covering ! She
had always half expected, half dreaded this ; and now she
was almost sorry it had come, she had been so tranquil, so
content.
" I fear there is no chance of our seeing him here," con-
tinued Mr. Bolton. " He is attending the Court very closely,
and when the long vacation comes I think, from what he told
me, he is going away to some leafy retreat in Wales to fish."
When they returned to the house Mr. Bolton did not forget
his intentions, as he often did. So Maggie was obliged to
produce the writing materials, while her companion dictated
an epistle to Mr. Trafford. Short, but full of matter, it de-
scribed his own comfort, content and improvement ; the great
pleasure which Mr. Trafford's letters gave him ; and then he
would fain have proceeded with a glowing panegyric on his
fair secretary, but she laughingly refused.
" It would be too absurd to send my own praises in my own
handwriting," she said. " Mr. Trafford would be the first to
laugh at me."
THE WOOING O'T. 499
" Well, he has heard them from Thomas, so I shall let you
off. Give me the paper, and I will manage to sign it."
That afternoon came a letter from Miss Grantham, full of
many kind inquiries, and giving an amusing account of their
first cruise in Lord Torchester's yacht. At the end she ad-
ded, " Have you seen or heard anything of Geoff Trafford ?
He has never turned up here, and I begin to fear he is irre-
trievably lost to civilization.
To which Maggie replied duly the next day, statiag that
nothing had been seen and very little heard of Mr. Trafford
at Eastnor, and quoting Mr. Bolton's opinion touching his in-
tended retirement in Wales. It was a considerable time
before Miss Grantham wrote again, and Maggie sometimes
reproached herself that she had not told her patroness that
she had written to Mr. Trafford for Mr. Bolton. However,
she gradually came to think it was as well she had not.
The next morning's post brought her a letter from Aunt
Grey, which was a most unusual occurrence, though Maggie
wrote dutifully and regularly.
Aunt Grey's epistle was pervaded by her usual spirit of ex-
altation, for self, and depreciation for her neighbors. Busi-
ness at Ditton Market was, on the whole, prosperous; but
what " your uncle would do without me I'm sure I cannot
tell. However, young Banks is a great help quite a rising
young man ; and between you and me, I think he is as good
as engaged to Jemima. There is a very steady young man,
who has a nice bit of land a few miles off, visits here very
constant. It's my belief that he is after Bell, who has grown
a fine girl, and might be any man's fancy. My girls, you see,
are plain and straightforward ; no pretending to be fine ladies
no airs and nonsense about them, and that's what men like.
Your uncle had a letter from John last week. They had a
fine voyage, and he writes in the best of spirits. His letter
is just full of Polly right through. She quite enjoys herself,
and is so well. He does not make any mention of you. We
don't quite understand you being sent back to Mrs. Berry.
It looks uncommon like Miss Grantham trying to get rid of
you, which seems ungrateful after your nursing her through
that horrid fever. Why, your uncle was quite foolish about
you when he heard of it, but the selfishness of people is sur-
prising."
Maggie smiled as she replaced this effusion in its envelope,
and resumed her occupation of trimming a wide-brimmed
bat to shelter herself from the embrowning effect of her long
500 THE WOOING OT.
rambles, beside Mr. Bolton's chair. Nevertheless, the letter
pained her. She knew Miss Grantham did not want to get
rid of her, and she did not in the least value Mrs. Grey's
opinion, yet she did not like to see the hard conjecture set
down in unmistakable caligraphy; and John too, he might
have asked how and where she was, without any disloyalty to
Polly.
However, she threw off the impression, and devoted her-
self to her hat. " Though it is a common thing I may as
well make it pretty ; " and, accordingly, she fastened a knot
of gray ribbons, matching the color of the straw, to the side,
and finding a small surplus of the material, left two floating long
ends. Having accomplished this, she tried it on before the
little mirror which adorned the mantle-piece in Mrs. Berry's
private parlor, and surveyed her work with some admiration.
" Please 'm," said the servant, coming in, ' Mrs. Berry says
this letter is for you. I took it to her in mistake, for you see
her name is on it."
Maggie removed her hat, and sat down to examine the let-
ter. It was directed to Miss Grey, at Mrs. Berry's ; but the
writing, large, firm, and very distinct, made her heart give a
sudden bound. She had seen very little of it, yet it was well
known. What a silly thing she was to be so disturbed ! It
was, no doubt, something for Mr. Bolton, or about him. She
must read it before the old man sent for her, as he usually
did about eleven o'clock.
" MY DEAR Miss GREY Although your stern and em-
phatic prohibitions as to my presuming to write to you is still
fresh in my memory, I cannot resist sending a few words of
reproach for your unfriendliness in not adding one syllable of
separate comment or information to Bolton's letter. When I
recognized a different hand from that of the accomplished
Thomas (my correspondent hitherto), I tore open the enve-
lope, feeling sure that I should find a joint epistle. But no !
I read diligently every line I studied every defiant angle of
the resolute and characteristic writing, but it was Bolton all
through.
" Considering the sincere interest I take in our friend's
condition, to say nothing of my old friendship with yourself,
I think you might have added a postscript. I write by this
post to Mr. Bolton, and in replying, I really do hope you will
give me your candid opinion of him.
THE WOOING 0"T. 501
" If you will add how you like the banishment to which I
believe I was instrumental in consigning you, and other partic-
ulars you may choose, you will be conferring a favor. You
cannot think how refreshing such a letter would be in the arid
solitudes of Grey's Inn. Town is fearfully hot, and dusty,
and seedy every one looks the worse of the season ; but as
Bolton will tell you, I cannot get away for a week or more.
I never longed so much for the sea air before. What an aston-
ishing zest a spice of difficulty lends ! I count on my holiday
with a schoolboy's delight. How are you off for books at
Eastnor ? I will send you some reviews and novels ; novels
are the correct thing on the seashore. I suppose the news-
paper is as much as you can read to Bolton. Are you bored ?
Do you regret the Beeches and Miss Grantham, and can you
forgive me for being the means of separating you from her ?
remember, I expect replies to all these questions, because
well, because I wish for them. Moreover, you owe me large
reparation for having visited the sins of that charming traitor-
ess, Madame De Beaumanoir, on me.
" So, for every reason you must write, especially as I want
your absolution for writing myself.
" Always yours,
"G. TRAFFORD."
Absolve him ! Well, if he could have seen the sparkling
eyes that scanned his lines the trembling hand that held his
letter he would not have had much doubt. But it was with
pleasure and dread, mingled with a fluttered exultation, that
Maggie read this ingenuous epistle. She must not allow her-
self to be blinded to the danger of being drawn into an inti-
macy which must be concealed from Miss Grantham ; and
while confused ideas of prudence and pleasure crowded her
brain, the respectable Thomas put in his head to request that,
if quite disengaged, she would come to Mr. Bolton.
She found that gentleman quite animated, with an open let
ter before him. " Well, my dear young lady, I have some cor-
respondence to trouble you with to-day. Here is a most
charming, entertaining letter from Mr. Trafford, and a parcel
of books, which he says is for your benefit as well as mine.
And what do you think ? He has had his first brief, and ab-
solutely spoken in court."
" Is it possible ? " cried Maggie, with the wannest sympa-
thy.
502 THE WOOING O'T.
" Yes. I am happy to say he has got his foot on the first
round of the ladder.
" Then depend on it, you will see him at the top before you
quit this mortal scene, dear Mr. Bolton."
" I hope so I hope so. Thomas, just bring the paper.
Look in the law reports Court of Chancery Jackson versus
Jones."
" Will his speech be in the paper ? " cried Maggie, delight-
ed.
" 1 do not fancy he made much of a speech : but have you
found it?"
" Yes here it is. It is a long thing about minors, and no
one seems to speak. Oh, here are the names for the plain-
tiff, Sergeant Pouncebox ; with him, Mr. G. Trafford."
" That's it. Just read the case, will you ? "
After dinner Mr. Bolton dictated a long letter to his friend,
from which Maggie gathered that Mr. Trafford was kept in
town in consequence of some business connected with the
unfortunate bank ; and that Mr. Bolton was very anxious that
as soon as he possibly could he should go down to Cowes and
join the heiress and her party.
" Miss Grantham is to be in town early in July, foj some
grand f6te," said Maggie, as she finished her task.
"Is she? But Mr. Trafford is sure to be aware of her
movements."
Maggie, blushing at her own duplicity, offered to post Mr.
Bolton's letter. She could not bring herself to say that she
too had heard from Trafford. However imprudent she might
be in concealing it, she could not tell Mr. Bolton or Mrs. Berry.
So she ran away to her own room, and indited a sly little
postscript principally about Mr. Bolton. She was able to
give an excellent account of him. She was very happy at
Eastnor, happier than she had been for a long time.
She was charmed to receive the books, and greatly obliged
to Mr. Trafford. She would always add a bulletin of Mr.
Bolton if he wished it. She was so pleased to hear the news
in his letter to Mr. Bolton, and offered her best wishes.
" Very guarded very commonplace," she thought : " so
perhaps he will see I do not wish to write again. Heigh-ho ! "
So she posted the letter, and things fell into their uiual
routine. Nor did Trafford write again.
THE WOOING &T. 503
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
" WELL, I'm sure it has been quite like another world since
you came down," said Mrs. Berry, as she with Maggie were
enjoying their five o'clock tea, for Mr. Bolton generally slept
at that time in order to be fresh and ready for his evening
airing.
" Take some marmalade, Maggie. How long is it since you
came down ? Five weeks next Tuesday so it is ! and it seems
no time at all. Mr. Bolton says he feels like a new man.
He is pretty sure to stay on as long as you are here. I hope
Miss Grantham won't be sending for you."
" I do not think she will," replied Maggie, with a slight sigh,
" she seems to have forgotten me : it is quite ten days since I
wrote to her."
"Well, if I was you, Maggie," said Mrs. Berry, oracularly,
" I should never trouble about that. Your best plan would
be to stick to the old gentleman up stairs. Miss Grantham
will be marrying some day soon ; likely she and that TrafTord
have made it up by this time, and then you will be sent adrift.
Now Mr. Bolton would be like a father to you, and leave you
his money when he dies."
" But I do not think he has any money to leave. He lost
it all when Mr. Trafford lost his, in that terrible failure."
" Don't you believe all that ! He pays like a prince, and as
regular as regular as the sun. Depend upon it he had a
nest-egg put away snug. There is no being up to these law-
yers. He is a lawyer, is he not ? "
" Yes ; still I am quite sure he lost his fortune."
" Don't tell me you are sure. I'll never believe it. And I
can't help thinking how nice it would be if you was to stay on,
and him, summer and winter. If you wanted to go away for
an out I could take care of 'him ; and if I wanted to go you
could take care of the house. You see, if he thinks you
stick to him, though he has lost his money, he'll be twice as
cond of you. Has he any relations ? "
" I do not know anything about his family."
" Relations is a bore," said Mrs. Berry, reflectively.
" They are always in the way when they aren't wanted, and
out of the way when they are. But my advice is, stick to Mr
504 THE WOOING OT.
Bolton and keep him here. He can't be doing no business
now ; and where could he be better off ? "
" Nowhere, indeed. Still if he gets stronger, I do not
fancy he will keep away from London."
" I wouldn't mind going back there myself if I could part
with this house advantageously. But law, Maggie ! you try
to fix yourself on to some one. You have had wonderful luck
so far, but still you have nothing really settled. Ah ! you
threw away your best chance when you let your cousin go ! I
never could quite make that out. Did you like any one else
better, or did you think there was any chance of the earl com-
ing on again ? "
" Oh, no ! dear Mrs. Berry. Can you not imagine my sim-
ply objecting to marry anv one until I found some one I really
could like ? "
" Mark my words, Maggie, you will be an old maid.
" There," interrupting herself, " Sarah ! The front-door bell !
It will be some one after my two top rooms ; I thought I saw
a gentleman come up the steps. It's really cruel to think the
chances one has, letting apartments ; and all no good because
I am tied to that unfortunate, misguided, treacherous scape*
grace ! Why, Sarah has come down again. What is it,
Sarah?"
" A gentleman for Mr. Bolton, 'm."
" A gentleman for Mr. Bolton ! Is it Mr. Parkins ? " this
was the incumbent of St. Winifred's.
" No, 'm ; it's a stranger a tall, dark gentleman."
" My goodness gracious ! It's that Trafford, Maggie ;
come to stir up everything ! I should not wonder but he is
after the old gentleman's money. I wish he would just stay
away."
" I do not think it can be Mr. Trafford," exclaimed. Mag-
gie, turning quite pale. " Mr. Bolton did not in jhe ieast
expect him."
" I'll lay anything it is. Here, Sarah ; just ask Thomas
who it is when he comes out, and if he wants any dinner."
In a few moments Sarah returned. " It's Mr. Trafford 'm,
and he does not want any dinner ; he had some at the hotel."
" There now ! I told you so ! And there will be an end
of our peace and comfort."
" I hope not," said Maggie, who felt a strong desire to run
away. " Mrs. Berry, you said you wanted some of the green
ribbon matched for your muslin dress ; I may as well go and
et it for yov* now of course Mr. Bolton fill not want ",;c."
THE WOOING O'T. 505
" Oh, do as you like ; perhaps it will be better to get on
with it when you can."
Maggie speedily departed on her errand, too disturbed to
think very distinctly at first ; but the prosaic employment of
matching the ribbon helped to clear her brain. So she made
a detour, during which her mind grew calmer and her pulses
steadier. She would not seem to avoid Mr. Trafford, nor
reject his well-intended professions of friendship, but she
would really keep away from him as much as possible ; and
also, if possible, never mention Paris or the De Boaumanoir
imbroglio. It was quite foolish to be disturbed because of so
natural an event as Mr. Trafford's coming to see his invalid
friend. She must be perfectly self-possessed, and treat it as
a matter of course.
Thus fortified, Maggie returned, but did not reach the
house till past seven.
" Where on earth have you been ? " cried Mrs. Berry, who
met her in the hall. " Mr. Bolton has been asking for you,
and Mr. Trafford, and I have been in to see them ; and I'm
sure if Miss Grantham does marry Trafford, I am not sur-
prised. A nicer man never walked ! He is quite delighted
with Mr. Bolton he never saw such a recovery ; and said out
plain enough that the best thing the old gentleman could do
was to stay where he was well off ! What do you think of
*hat ? " Mrs. Berry was radiant.
" Very sensible indeed."
" There, go get off your hat and make yourself tidy.
They have asked for tea, and you'd best go in and make it."
" But I do not suppose Mr. Bolton can want me."
" He does, I tell you. Don't be aggravating and contra-
dictory."
Maggie made no further objection, but removed her hat
and smoothed her hair ; and arming herself with her never-
failing needlework, entered the " enchanted hall," without
giving herself time for more hesitation.
Mr. Bolton was in his usual place by the window. Traf-
ford was sitting by the table with the newspaper in his hand,
as if he had been reading it alone. Thomas was laying the
tea things.
" Where have you been, my dear ? I have asked a dozen
times for you."
" Doing a little shopping as I did not think you would
want me."
506 THE WOOING 0T.
Trafford had stood up as she came in, and looked at het
with a pleased half smile while Mr. Bolton spoke.
" Well, Miss Grey ; you see I could not refrain from run-
ning down to see how my prescription agreed with our patient
here. And really the effect is marvelous." He shook hands
with her very cordially.
" I am very glad you are satisfied," said Maggie, and placed
herself at the tea-table. With all her resolution, she felt
strangely shy and embarrassed.
" You are not perhaps aware of all you have to thank me
for," continued Trafford addressing Bolton. " It was due to
my dexterous maneuvers that you have been blessed with
Miss Grey's companionship. I put it into Lady Torchester's
head to apply to Miss Grantham ; but I was desperately
afraid she would refuse."
Maggie shook her head a little sadly. " I feared she did
not care enough to refuse," she said, in a low voice.
" We will discuss that by-and-by," said Trafford, in the
same tone.
While Mr. Bolton, who did not catch the asides, was say-
ing : " You may laugh if you like, Mr. Trafford, but Maggie
has been a blessing to me. The kindest, wisest little com-
panion that could have been sent to a poor old fellow thrown
on his beam ends like myself."
" Laugh ! " exclaimed Trafford, with much earnestness, " I
meant what I said. Your opinion is an article of faith with
me, of which Miss Grey is quite aware."
" If you are both going to persist in such bare-faced pane-
gyrics," said Maggie, rallying herself from her confusion, and
laughing and blushing very prettily, " I shall run away and
leave you to pour out your own tea."
" Heaven forbid ! " cried Trafford, piously. " We will not
breathe another syllable of praise. Thank you," as he
received his cup. " I think the last time you had the pleas-
ure of pouring out tea for me was in Paris, under poor Mrs.
Berry's auspices. What an unfortunate affair that marriage
of hers was ? "
" Do you know, I think Mrs. Berry is really happier now
than when she was running after imaginary grand people in
Paris. She must be, for she is fully and congenially
employed : and after all, that must be nearly all that is
necessary."
" Not a bad definition of happiness eh, Bolton ? but just
a little more completes it."
7X3 WOOING aT. 507
" What more ? " asked Mr. Bolton, who was enjoying his
cup of tea by the open window.
" Well, congenial companionship, as well as employment ;
that supplies the whole of what is necessary in your estima-
tion, does it not, Miss Grey ? "
" Yes," said Maggie, with a little faint sigh.
That evening went over with marvelous, charming rapidity.
The invalid was wheeled out on the sands, and both his
friends accompanied him. There was something contagious
in the sort of controlled joyousness that seemed to glow
through Trafford's manner and ring out in his voice. He
did the principal part of the talking, and amused his listeners
by a description of his experiences at court, which highly
delighted Mr. Bolton.
The air was delicious ; the sunset hues divine ; the ripple
forward and soft caressing backward sweep of the wavelets,
sweetest music. But at last Mr. Bolton decided to return to
the house. It had been, he said, a very happy day, but he
was tired, and bid Trafford and Maggie good-night as they
went in.
"Come, Miss Grey, the evening is heavenly; take one
turn more on the beach before you imprison yourself for the
night. Consider, I am only free for a couple of days ; you
ought to indulge me a little ; besides, I want to talk about
Miss Grantham."
"Very well," said Maggie; and they walked slowly away
down the garden. Right or wrong, it was very delightful.
No one was there to find fault, or notice the unorthodox
proceeding.
"I imagine," said Trafford, after a long, delicious
silence, " that you think Miss Grantham was too ready to
part with you ? "
" I thought more of it when I first came down here. I am
in a. more healthy frame of mind now."
" I rather think yours an unusually healthy mind ; but you
are mistaken if you think Margaret is not fondly attached to
you. She is, and yet it is possible she may wound you. Do
not, however, let that distress you. She is too true herself
not to love you, and when you meet again you will be better
friends than ever. Why, you saved her life."
" Still love I mean affection cannot be bought. Neither
gold nor self-sacrifice avail much."
" What can win love, then ? " asked Trafford, in a low tone.
" Oh, I cannot tell. I feel inclined to ask you, and then
5&S THE WOOING O'T.
practice the spell on Miss Grantham. I do want her to love
me as if we were equals, for equality is the soul of love and
friendship."
" That was always your doctrine, and I believe it has much
truth."
" And I am sure of it."
" And forgive me if I speak too freely do you never
give any regretful thoughts to poor Torchester ? "
" Never. I like him a very great deal, but I have never
regretted not taking advantage of his boyish fancy. I should
not have been happy. You could not imagine me a countess."
" Yes, I could," said Trafford, with a gay laugh, " a very
charming little countess ; but I would rather not."
" Of course I know that," returned Maggie, laughing also.
He was so frank and pleasant, and unloverlike that she was
growing delightfully at home with him. She did not notice
that he turned and looked steadily at her, for she herself was
watching the first moonbeams gleaming out over the sea.
" How did you like the books I sent you ? " was his next
question.
"Very much especially an article in that review on
' French and English fiction.' The writer knows women
wonderfully. It seems to me as if he knew every thought of
mine, my courage and cowardice everything. Is it not
wonderful a man could write like this ? for I suppose it was
written by a man."
" I am glad it pleased you ; very glad ; for I am rather
interested in the writer. Have you heard from Miss Grant-
ham lately ? "
" No, not for a fortnight."
" She is to be in town on Monday, I think; for some fete or
entertainment ; and I am sorry to hear that Sir Hugh Erskine
has been hanging about her at Cowes."
" So am I. I cannot bear Sir Hugh. But, Mr. Trafford, I
must go in, and you would like a cigar ; so good-night ; we
are close to the garden-gate."
" Must you go ? Well, good-night."
It was, perhaps, inadvertence, but he held her hand rather
too long for the preservation of that calm, equable condition
of friendship which she flattered herself she had been sue-
cessful in attaining.
" Gracious goodness, Maggie ! Did you go out again, and
have you been walking till this hour just nine o'clock with
THE WOOING O'T. 509
Mr. Trafford ? If Miss Grantham was here, wouldn't you
catch it ? but don't you be afraid, I won't peach."
" Was it very wrong to stay out with him ? " asked Maggie,
anxiously. " I will not do so again ;" and she escaped to her
own room, too happy at this renewal of the old easy, delightful
intercourse to reason or resolve or torment herself.
Maggie was reading the morning paper to Mr. Bolton the
next day when Trafford came in, and she thought he looked
grave and preoccupied. After a few words of greeting she
rose to leave the room. Trafford offered no opposition to her
retreat, but rather facilitated it by opening the door.
" I suppose Mr. Trafford has taken your place with the old
gentleman," said Mrs. Berry, who, with a large apron over
her neat morning dress, was making some pastry. " If you
don't mind, he will cut you out."
Maggie sat down and laughed merrily at the idea of a
rivalry between herself and Trafford for the possession of Mr.
Bolton's money.
"Oh, you think yourself very clever, I dare say, but I
have seen a deal more of life than you have ; and mark my
words, that Trafford is no friend of yours. I suppose he'll be
wanting some dinner by and by. What shall I give him ?
You know what he likes ! "
" Indeed I do not. Send up some of your nice cutlets
when Mr. Bolton takes his luncheon, and ask if Mr. Trafford
will dine and at what hour."
" A late dinner ! Lor', Maggie, don't put it into their
heads. Perhaps the old gentleman may be wanting it regular
after."
" Oh, he must take his food as the doctors direct."
Mrs. Berry prattled on for awhile, till Maggie, finding a
favorable opportunity, escaped to the parlor, and busied her-
self with her hostess' books.
After their early dinner, finding that Mr. Bolton was still
occupied with his visitor, she got her hat and a book, and
telling Mrs. Berry she would go to the seat in the crag to
read awhile, she stole -quietly away by the road, so as not to
be perceived from the drawing-room windows.
" I am sure it does not do poor Mr. Bolton much good,
these London visitors ; he hasn't eat two bites," said Mrs.
Berry ruefully, as Maggie left the room. " I am afraid your
master is not quite so well to-day, Thomas ? " she continued.
" Well, mum, he does seem a little flustered like, but Mr.
Trafford is sure to cheer him up. Dinner at six, if you
5 io THE WOOING O'T.
please ; and will you try and get some fish, and anything else
nice and tasty you can think of ? "
" Fish ! " almost screamed Mrs. Berry ; why it's half-past
two now. I'll go and see about it at once."
Meantime Maggie had sat for some time, alternately trying
to read and gazing out to sea dreamily. At length she closed
her book, and, laying it aside, began to plan a letter to Miss
Grantham. She must write and tell her of Mr. Trafford's
visit ; and this was no trifling undertaking. It made her hot
to think of it. She untied her hat and placed it on her knee.
She had not sat long thus, a pretty little picture in her fresh
black-and-white muslin dress, her scarf partly fallen off one
shoulder, and her thoughtful face, with its earnest eyes and
tender mouth, framed in a background of rock and wild
flowers and trailing leaves, her hands resting on the brim of
her hat she had not sat long thus meditating, when Trafford
joined her. She scarcely felt surprised, but she determined
to leave him as soon as she could effect a retreat in good
order.
" I rather think Bolton will not thank me for banishing you
this whole morning ; but I could not help it."
" No, no! It must be delightful to him to have you here."
A long silence.
" What a charming nook this is. I suppose you often come
here to read ? "
" Not very often. It is an awkward place for Mr. Bol ton's
chair. I only indulge in reading here when I have nothing
else to do."
No reply to this. A deep gravity, almost sternness, gathered
over Mr. Trafford's countenance.
" As you have finished your talk with Mr. Bolton, I dart
say he will be ready for the paper ; I had better go to him."
She took up her hat.
" No, he is not, I assure you. He is gone out by this time.
He does not want you ; but I do. I have something to tell
you ! Something to ask you, and," coming a little closer, and
leaning his arm on the back of the seat, nearly over her
shoulder, " I dare say you know very well what it is." His
first slight hesitation had completely vanished by the time he
reached this part of his speech.
Maggie was much impressed by the gravity of his manner ;
but his proposing for her was an event so far beyond the
range of possibilities in her estimation, that she exclaimed,
honestly enough, " I do not, indeed ! " raising her eyes td
THE WOOING O'T. 511
his as she spoke. Whatever it was she read there, she did
not look up again.
" I always believed you," he resumed ; " yet I have flattered
myself there was such a thorough sympathy between us,
that, whether acceptable or not, you must have known I love
you that I have loved you almost ever since I knew you."
He spoke softly and very calmly ; but Maggie could not
reply. The astonishing confession, the terror of so much joy,
struck her dumb.
" This is what I have to tell you. What I have to ask is,
that you will love me ? "
Maggie felt she must speak ; she had turned quite pale,
and now began nervously rolling up the long ends of ribbon
that adorned her hat, with trembling hands.
" Every one will think you mad," she exclaimed at last, the
uppermost thought getting utterance somehow ; " there is no
equality between us."
" For God's sake," said Trafford, with great earnestness,
" do not let any false pride stand between us. I have not
acted with either sense or judgment ; but now let nothing
separate us. My life is in your hands ! "
" And mine in yours," said Maggie ; the supreme impor-
tance of the moment lifting her over smaller doubts and
shyness. " If you are not sure of your own courage and
constancy, let what you have said be forgotten. Oh ! look
into your soul and see if I am really worth to you all you
imagine. I can bear a good deal ; but not to lose you once
" She stopped abruptly, the enthusiasm which had
nerved her to speak so boldly dying out.
Trafford caught her hand in both of his. " I am not quite
unworthy of you, dearest," he said, while his eyes lit up and
a dark flush passed over his cheek. " I know well how
necessary you are to me. I have suffered enough from
sacrificing natural instinct to conventionality. Then, Maggie,
if you believe that I am true and loyal, you will not refuse to
be my wife?" he pressed her hand almost painfully, and
went on hastily, " I must confess that I deeply, bitterly regret
not having sought you in my comparative prosperity, as my
heart prompted. Now I have but broken fortunes to offer
you ! I do not set myself up as a hero ; I am a very fallible
mortal. Will you take me with all my imperfections ? "
" I understand," said Maggie., slowly, but leaving her hand
in his. " You did not think it possible to raise me to your
5 i2 THE WOOING O'T.
own level before troubles came. Well, I am a fitter help
mate for a real worker than for a fine gentleman ; but "
" I acknowledge that you would have been braver and
truer had you been in my place," interrupted Trafford.
" No," replied Maggie, looking down ; " I should then
have been a man, and felt the force of more worldly
motives."
Trafford smiled, and ventured to kiss the hand he held so
closely. Maggie withdrew it, as he continued :
" But, if you have even a little liking for me, grant me
plenary absolution ; besides, I must remind you that you
never granted me a glimpse of anything like preference. At
Grantham, I thought you were absolutely indifferent. Since
that, I have imagined another motive had its share in your
obstinate avoidance of me ; but now give me your hand
again, give me your heart ! "
" Ah ! " said Maggie, her lips quivering, and great unshed
tears brimming up in her eyes, as she gave it to him. " I
have tried so hard not to love you. Oh ! how angry every
one will be ! Mr. Bolton and Miss Grantham. What will
Miss Grantham say ? "
Unconsciously, she drew closer to him, and her hand
pressed more tightly on his.
" Why think of them ? " exclaimed Trafford ; hitherto he
had spoken with studied calmness, as if to disturb her as lit-
tle as he could ; but now he let the emotion he felt speak in
his voice. " Think of me ; think of the happiness you give,
my own darling ! " clasping his arms around her, he at
last sought the sweet, sad mouth, for which he had often
pined, and pressed upon it a kiss so long, so tender, so im-
passioned, that Maggie felt as if her soul was drawn through
her lips.
" I do think of you," said she in a low, trembling voice,
as he slowly released her. " But I dread so much theii
anger for you. Mr. Bolton ! How shall I ever go in and
speak to him ? How will you tell him ? "
Trafford smiled. " I have told him that I was going to
try my chance to-day, and that, if successful, all he had to do
was to offer his congratulations to my intended."
" You don't mean to say you have told him already? " said
Maggie, turning pale. " I shall dread to see him."
" In short," exclaimed Trafford, " if you are going to make
a bugbear of my friends and relations, the sooner we are
married the better ; and you must hear what I have to saj r on
THE WOOING O'T. 513
that subject this evening, or to-morrow morning. You are
too frank and real to stand on punctilio, and knowing me so
well as you certainly do, it cannot be like beginning the great
journey with a stranger."
" No ; " with a shy smile and bright glance up at him. " A
quiet, real home with you, where I can be busy and of use,
would be very sweet ; but just now, I scarcely know whether
I am terrified or happy."
Here the tears overflowed their reservoirs so quickly, that
she was obliged to cover her face in her handkerchief.
Trafford wisely refrained from indulging in another kiss,
though strongly tempted. Maggie was so tremulous, so
shaken, that he feared to agitate her more. Gradually he
irew her into conversation, and, with exquisite tact, assisted
her to regain composure. It was very delicious to recall
their first meetings and their delightful drive in Paris. " You
little knew how desperately inclined I was to run away with
you that evening when we wandered by the lake."
" It would not have been so easy to run away with me
against my will," returned Maggie.
" And would it have been quite against your will ? "
" Yes, certainly then. But it is frightfully late ; we must go
in, Mr. Trafford."
" Mr. Trafford ! What a little formalist ! Do you mean to
call me Mr. Trafford all the days of your life ? "
" I believe so. I have always thought of you as Mr. Traf-
ford."
" But we have changed all that," said he, rising and draw*
ing her arm within his own.
To meet Mr. Bolton with all her iniquity upon her head
was a tremendous trial to Maggie, as Trafford, half amused,
half sympathetic, observed. Having fully and completely
made up his own mind as to what was best and pleasantest
to do, he could not see the great importance Maggie attached
to the opinions of other people.
" Well, my dear sir, we have come to claim your congratu-
lations," he said, with enviable coolness, taking his fianc&s
hand, and laying it within that of the invalid.
" You have them," said Mr. Bolton, holding it kindly,
though Maggie fancied there was a tinge of sadness in his
tone, " and I think there is that in both of you to make each
other happy."
" I hope you are not very angry," faltered Maggie.
19
jl4 THE WOOING OF.
" Angry ! No, my dear young lady, I have no right to be.
I think you are both very excusable. Now you are probably
not aware that it is six o'clock and dinner is ready."
" Certainly not ! " cried Maggie, flying away, glad to be
alone even for a few minutes.
Dinner was not nearly so painful as might have been ex-
pected. Trafford and Mr. Bolton discussed law and politics,
and even literature, with ease and apparent unconcern, while
Mrs. Berry, in the regions below, marveled much at her
young friend joining the gentlemen at their repast. She had
merely said hastily that she would tell her all by-and-by, as
they encountered in the hall. So Mrs. Berry was obliged to
wait.
" Depend upon it," she said to Sarah, in the " strong ne-
cessity " of speaking to some one, " he has been and told
that Trafford how he intends to make her his heiress, and
shut him up ! I heard them speaking very low and earnest
just after lunch, when I was putting a clean toilette cover on
Mr. Bolton's dressing-table ; and that's the reason she's gone
in to dinner."
" Well, 'm, I was thinking as Mr. Trafford was her young
man."
" Bless us and save us, Sarah, what put that in your
head ? "
But Mrs. Berry's curiosity was not destined to be quickly
allayed. After dinner Mr. Bolton elected to sit by the win-
dow, and Maggie, to avoid the pain and difficulty of talking,
gladly read the neglected morning newspaper ; while Trafford
lounged in an easy chair near her in a state of tranquil en-
joyment, not often or long to be enjoyed in this weary world
At last Mr. Bolton said he was tired and would go to bed
Trafford assisted the excellent Thomas to wheel his master
to his bedroom ; returning, he found the lamp lit, and Maggie
drawing forth her work at the center-table.
Trafford stood for a moment or two on the hearth-rug.
" Mrs. Berry is out," he said, " and I suppose it is not ab-
solutely necessary for me to say good-night just yet."
" Perhaps not," said Maggie, shyly.
Trafford drew a chair to the table, and leaning his elbow
on it, looked at the pretty, busy white hands, the tenderly
curved throat, the half averted head, for a minute or two in
expressive silence, while Maggie, in her quick-beating heait,
felt how delightful yet how awful it was to be alone with him
on such terms.
THE WOOING O'r. $15
" Maggie, ' he said at length, and his voice sounded like a
caress, " Maggie, what are you thinking of ? "
" Oh, Miss Grantham ! I can think of nothing else/'
She pushed away her v/crk, and clasped her hands in a
sort of despair.
" Flattering to me."
" But can you wonder at it ? She will think me treach-
erous everything that is bad."
" She shall not. I intend to see her myself on Tuesday,
and to explain everything. I am fond of Margaret Grantham.
Though we may not see much of each other in future, I
should not like you to lose her friendship ? "
" Will it not be dreadful to have to tell her ? "
" A little awkward to get into the subject, but easy enough
after. Leave it all to me. Do not disturb the first happy
hours I have known for more than twelve long months by
conjuring up unpleasantness ; let us talk of your relations,
Shall I write and ask Uncle Grey for his blessing and
consent ? "
" Ah, yes ! poor dear Uncle Grey 1 You are very good
and kind."
She stretched her hand out tenderly, and did not regain
possession of it for a long time.
" You must go away then to-morrow ? " she exclaimed at
length, after some laughing conjecture as to what Aunt Grey
and Aunt Torchester respectively would say, and the earl,
and especially Cousin John, and much loving talk that would
scarce read sensible on paper.
" Yes, I must indeed. I suppose you would on the whole,
prefer my remaining here ? "
" I perfectly dread being alone. I shall imagine all sorts
of things."
" I have no doubt of it ; and therefore, in writing to Uncle
Grey, would it not be as well to mention that we hope to
arrange everything so as to be married about the twenty-first
of next month ? " and Trafford watched the effect of this
coup.
"The twenty-first of next month," repeated Maggie,
opening her eyes in amazement. " Why, that is barely three
weeks off ! "
" Just so. Have you any reasonable reason against it ?
What is the use of prolonging an uncomfortable transition
state, exposed to the heavy fire of remonstrance which you
$14 THE WOOING Of.
" Angry 1 No, my dear young lady, I have no right to be.
I think you are both very excusable. Now you are probably
not aware that it is six o'clock and dinner is ready."
" Certainly not ! " cried Maggie, flying away, glad to be
alone even for a few minutes.
Dinner was not nearly so painful as might have been ex-
pected. Trafford and Mr. Bolton discussed law and politics,
and even literature, with ease and apparent unconcern, while
Mrs. Berry, in the regions below, marveled much at her
young friend joining the gentlemen at their repast. She had
merely said hastily that she would tell her all by-and-by, as
they encountered in the hall. So Mrs. Berry was obliged to
wait.
" Depend upon it," she said to Sarah, in the " strong ne-
cessity " of speaking to some one, " he has been and told
that Trafford how he intends to make her his heiress, and
shut him up ! I heard them speaking very low and earnest
just after lunch, when I was putting a clean toilette cover ou
Mr. Bolton's dressing-table ; and that's the reason she's gone
in to dinner."
" Well, 'm, I was thinking as Mr. Trafford was her young
man."
" Bless us and save us, Sarah, what put that in your
head ? "
But Mrs. Berry's curiosity was not destined to be quickly
allayed. After dinner Mr. Bolton elected to sit by the win-
dow, and Maggie, to avoid the pain and difficulty of talking,
gladly read the neglected morning newspaper ; while Trafford
lounged in an easy chair near her in a state of tranquil en-
joyment, not often or long to be enjoyed in this weary world
At last Mr. Bolton said he was tired and would go to bed
Trafford assisted the excellent Thomas to wheel his master
to his bedroom ; returning, he found the lamp lit, and Maggie
drawing forth her work at the center-table.
Trafford stood for a moment or two on the hearth-rug.
" Mrs. Berry is out," he said, " and I suppose it is not ab-
solutely necessary for me to say good-night just yet."
" Perhaps not," said Maggie, shyly.
Trafford drew a chair to the table, and leaning his elbow
on it, looked at the pretty, busy white hands, the tenderly
curved throat, the half averted head, for a minute or two in
expressive silence, while Maggie, in her quick-beating heatt,
felt how delightful yet how awful it was to be alone with hita
pn such terras.
THE WOOING OPT. 515
" Maggie, ' he said at length, and his voice sounded like a
caress, " Maggie, what are you thinking of ? "
" Oh, Miss Grantham ! I can think of nothing else."
She pushed away her v/crk, and clasped her hands in a
sort of despair.
" Flattering to me."
" But can you wonder at it ? She will think me treach-
erous everything that is bad."
" She shall not. I intend to see her myself on Tuesday,
and to explain everything. I am fond of Margaret Grantham.
Though we may not see much of each other in future, I
should not like you to lose her friendship ? "
" Will it not be dreadful to have to tell her ? "
" A little awkward to get into the subject, but easy enough
after. Leave it all to me. Do not disturb the first happy
hours I have known for more than twelve long months by
conjuring up unpleasantness ; let us talk of your relations,
Shall I write and ask Uncle Grey for his blessing and
consent ? "
" Ah, yes ! poor dear Uncle Grey 1 You are very good
and kind."
She stretched her hand out tenderly, and did not regain
possession of it for a long time.
" You must go away then to-morrow ? " she exclaimed at
length, after some laughing conjecture as to what Aunt Grey
and Aunt Torchester respectively would say, and the earl,
and especially Cousin John, and much loving talk that would
scarce read sensible on paper.
" Yes, I must indeed. I suppose you would on the whole,
prefer my remaining here ? "
" I perfectly dread being alone. I shall imagine all sorts
of things."
" I have no doubt of it ; and therefore, in writing to Uncle
Grey, would it not be as well to mention that we hope to
arrange everything so as to be married about the twenty-first
of next month ? " and Trafford watched the effect of this
coup.
" The twenty-first of next month," repeated Maggie,
opening her eyes in amazement. " Why, that is barely three
weeks off ! "
" Just so. Have you any reasonable reason against it ?
What is the use of prolonging an uncomfortable transition
state, exposed to the heavy fire of remonstrance which you
Si6 THE WOOING 0T.
seem to anticipate ? You will be your own sweet, frank self,
and not raise unnecessary difficulties ? "
" It is all so wonderful, so astonishing." murmured Maggie ;
" but nothing can be settled till you see Miss Grantham.
Oh, do write and tell me all she says ! "
" She shall write to you herself. Yes, she shall ! " in reply
to an incredulous shake of the head.
" And now, Mr. Trafford well Geoffrey you must go.
Look, it is ten o'clock, and I have to see Mrs. Berry yet."
" Do, and tell her you have agreed to take me for better,
for worse. This day's proceedings require explanation, so
good-night, darling, and do not let any one or anything
frighten or disturb you. Remember you are promised and
pledged to me," and Trafford drew her closely to him, and
looked intently, almost sternly into her eyes " I will hold
you to it." Then relaxing into a smile, as he met her half-
wondering glance, " I am quite capable of desperate deeds,
though you may not think so ! Another kiss, Maggie. I
really am a model of moderation ; we have been absolutely
engaged for six or seven hours, and I have had but one !
now, one more ! Ah 1 little witch ! why do I love you so
much 1 "
" I declare to goodness, Maggie, you could knock me down
with a feather," exclaimed Mrs. Berry, sitting down suddenly
as if unable to stand, about half an hour after Trafford had
torn himself away, when Maggie had, with much circum
locution and many breakdowns, given her the startling intelli-
gence that Trafford had proposed, had been accepted, and
had made it all right with Mr. Bolton, etc., etc., etc.
" What in the world will Miss Grantham say and the
Earl ? My gracious, Maggie, you have fixed yourself on some
one ! but if he has no money what are you to do ? "
" I never thought of that. He knows best. I leave
everything to him."
" And how sly you have been ! now tell the truth didn't you
know he was after you in Paris ? Was that the reason you
refused my lord ? You would have been better off as the
Countess of Torchester. And what's to become of poor Mr.
Bolton when you are off honeymooning ? "
" Yes, dear Mrs. Berry, something must be done for him."
" Well to be sure, it's all like a book ; and what shall we
give them for dinner to-morrow ? Oh, you leave it to me, do
you I I dare say you are above dinners now ; but mark me^
THE WOOIN-G &T. 517
if you want to keep a man sweet and civil, feed him ! They
are all alike. Lord, Maggie, you'll be first cousin to the Earl,
and niece to my Lady the Countess ? People like them v 'i\]
never let a blood relation come to poverty. If ever a girl was
born with a silver spoon in her mouth you are that girl 1 "
CHAPTER XXXIX.
TRAFFORD had quite as much pluck as falls to the lot of
most healthy Englishmen, and rather more strength of will
than is possessed by the generality ; nevertheless he could
not help smiling to himself at his own sense of embarrass-
ment as he proceeded westward to keep his appointment with
Miss Grantham.
The young heiress had found a few lines from him on her
arrival from Cowes, in which he merely said " I shall call
upon you to-morrow at eleven, if not forbidden ; I am about
to commit what my ' friends and the public ' will consider an
act of imprudence, and as you are the most unworldly and
imprudent of the family, I look for your countenance and
support ; you must therefore give me a few moments of your
valuable time."
To which, the first post brought him this curt reply.
" DEAR GEOFFREY, At eleven. With pleasure.
'Yours, M, G."
It is an awkward position, that of announcing your
intended marriage with one woman, to another who has made
you an offer and been rejected. But Trafford was resolved
that Miss Grantham should learn the history of his relation
with Maggie from his own lips, and before any other
individual.
Miss Grantham received him in her private sitting-room,
where the blazing July sun was toned down by rose-color
blinds, and the atmostphere was full of perfume from a
profusion of flowers. All that taste and modern luxury could
contribute of comfort and beauty was there assembled, yet
the lovely possessor (and Trafford acknowledged to himself
that she was lovely, as she received him with her usual grace-
ful cordiality) had heavy eyes and an air of depression.
" Well Geoffrey, so you have come to make your confession
Si8 THE WOOING OT.
to me at last," said she, as Trafford sat down on the ottoman
beside her. " Shall I tell you the heads of the discourse,
and save you the trouble of trying to blush ! "
" I should like to hear your version ; but I have no inten-
tion of blushing, there is nothing to blush for."
" In one sense, I am sure not. I only thought of your
possible bashfulness. Well, Geoffrey, you have come to
confide in me that you are in love with little Maggie, and
intend to propose for her forthwith."
" Margaret, you are positivelyuncanny," exclaimed Trafford,
in no small surprise. " Has Maggie written to you ? "
" Little traitress ! no. Then you have absolutely proposed
and been accepted ? I thought there would be a little more
time before us."
" Why, my dear cousin ? You are not going to declare
against me ? I have quite counted on you."
" And you may, Geoff, dear old friend. Oh ! it is a
desperate act ! But if you have asked her, and you are sure
she loves you, there is no more to be said ; still I will say
that I am very, very sorry. As if it was not bad enough to
lose your money and have to work for bare existence, you
must hamper yourself with an incongruous engagement.
You would do twice as well without it. It will be a millstone
round your neck."
" An engagement probably would ; but I do not intend it
to be one. I have nearly persuaded Maggie that our wisest
plan would be to marry sometime about the end of this month,
and I look to you to complete her conviction."
" Geoffrey, you are certainly the most audacious man
living," cried Miss Grantham, laughing. " I know it is waste
of words to talk to you against anything you have resolved
upon : but how do you mean to get on ? where do you mean
to live ? Oh, it is too dreadfully foolish altogether, and so
out of place. Not that I mean to say a word against Mag-
gie. She is a dear thing, but not a wife for you no." The
iears sprung to Miss Grantham's eyes. " She is a little
traitress ! To think of the many times we have talked about
you, and she never for a moment admitted that you were in
love with her. She always denied that you made love to
her ; " and Miss Grantham paced to and fro.
" She is no traitress, and I never did make love to her, at
least, consciously, nor do I believe she ever admitted to her-
self that I loved her, though I suppose she must have felt I
THE WOOING O'T. 519
did. Tell me how you knew what my confession was to
be?"
" I always had an instinctive feeling that Maggie was at-
tractive to you. Something in your voice when you spoke to
her " Miss Grantham paused for a moment, and a contrac-
tion, as of pain, passed over her brow, as she noticed the
tender, dreamy, far-off look that came into Trafford's eyes,
the soft smile that stole over his lips, at her words, but he
did not heed her " was different from its usual tone," she
continued ; " but that day at the Beeches, when Maggie came
unexpectedly into the room, I saw it in your eyes. The
more I thought of it, the more convinced I felt that you
loved her, and would marry her some day. Had you not
made up your mind then ? "
" I had," he replied, " if I could get her consent."
" Had you any doubt about that ? " asked Miss Grantham,
elevating her eyebrows.
" Yes ; great doubts. Now I will give you the whole his-
tory ; " and he began by their meeting in Paris, which he ac-
counted for by his attempt to rescue Torchester from the
gambling set into which he had fallen ; he described the sort
of curious interest he took at first in Maggie, because she
was so different from the people about her, and then be-
cause of the blending of modesty and frankness, unselfishness
and individuality, which characterized her. Her unembar-
rassed ease with himself, as though he were completely out
of the category of possible lovers ; the confidence that osten-
sibly grew up between them ; the tenderness called forth by
her unprotected loveliness ; the admiration excited by the in-
nate bravery, the high spirit sheathed in the velvet softness of
her nature. In short, Trafford, in his every-day phraseology,
gave a most interesting psychological sketch of the mutual
attraction of two kindred spirits, but wisely left out of sight
the wildfire which had soon, though he scarce knew when,
begun to flash along the electric system of his frame at the
touch of that quiet little orphan's hand, the glance of her
calm, sweet eyes. " I only regret I did not ask her to be my
wife long ago. It seems a shame to turn to her when I have
nothing left. What a strong hold the habits and opinions of
one's class have over us. At first I felt such a marriage
would be disastrous and ridiculous, and then the first moment
I lost my self-control, the instant I overstepped the boundary
of quiet friendship, Maggie shrank so visibly, and avoided
me so steadily, that I often thought she really did not car
520 THE WOOING ffT.
for me. And now there can be no doubt that our best course
is to be married right off. Where could Maggie be during a
long indefinite engagement? while I should be feverish and
unsettled. Matrimony is not so very costly as we shall un-
dertake it. I dare say Maggie will not mind sharing my
chambers for a year or two ; at all events, I have made up
my mind on the subject."
" One word, Geoffrey ! Did you know that she was at
Grantham last winter when you came down with me ? "
" No ; but I confess your description of the new secretary
roused my curiosity."
" And you undertook the journey to satisfy it ? "
" Not altogether. I was very pleased to be with you, Mar-
garet."
" Do not tell me such stories ; you never thought about
me," interrupted Miss Grantham, petulantly. " Then Maggie
has been true always. Poor dear thing, she must have been
unhappy often, and I have been so cross, Geoff ! she shall
marry you whenever you like. I'll write to her to-day and
tell her so. I shall have no patience with her if she contra-
dicts you, when you love her so dearly ; and you do. You do
not know how much you have let me see. But, Geoffrey, be
constant, be kind ! If hereafter you ever regret having made
a foolish marriage for it is a foolish marriage, and by and
by being a man, you may half resent the injury to your pros-
pects and social standing keep it to yourself, don't let her
see it, for though I feel infinitely vexed that she ever came in
your way, if I saw you change to her and break her heart, for
it would break if she saw you changed, I would hate and de-
spise you."
" I think," said Trafford, smiling well-pleased, " you may
trust her with me, and I think if there were more Margaret
Granthams in the world, it would be a different and a better
place."
" God knows I am by no means sure. Now, Geoffrey,
what do you want me to do ? to tell Tor and his mother ? "
" By no means ! I shall tell every one who need be ac
quainted, myself; but you kindly proposed writing to Maggie
yourself ; if you will do this, it will be a favor to us both.
She is awfully nervous at the idea of universal disapproba-
tion. Then when the general howl begins, if you will strike
in with a different key it will produce a great effect, but I
really only care for your own fair self. If you stand by me,
the rest may go."
THE WOOING O"T. 5*t
" I will do that, Geoffrey. Are you going ? "
" Yes, I have troubled you long enough. "
" Oh, no, no ! yet you had better go. I have twenty things
to do before that horrid fete ! "
" What, the fete you came on purpose for ? "
" Yes and I must go. I have such a lovely dress. "
" Well, good-bye for the present. "
" Remember I shall go to your wedding, and bring Tor
Chester with me, " cried the heiress, whose partisanship greur
warmer each moment. " Dear Geoffrey, how I hope you
may be happy ! this is good-bye, indeed ! " As he bent for-
ward to kiss her brow, she burst into tears, threw herself for
an instant into his arms, and ran quickly from the room.
There was no lovelier woman at the Marchioness of Hill-
shire's fete than Miss Grantham. Her cheek had a soft glow,
her eyes a light and animation that gave her new beauty.
Sir Hugh Erskine pronounced her perfect dazzling, and
declared his mind to be made up, that to-morrow he would
secure this exquisite creature for himself.
When a few days after his departure for a lengthened visit
to Palestine and the East was announced, to the delight of
Lord Torchester and several others, society naturally con-
cluded that he had been rejected.
It would swell the narrative of little things to portentous
length were all the doubts and self-tormentings of poor Mag-
gie, during the day succeeding Trafford's departure, set down.
The greatest aggravation of her uneasiness arose from the
downcast expression of Mr. Bolton's face, and the depressed
quiet of his manner. She felt a criminal of the deepest dye
every time she looked at him. Mrs. Berry, too, was a thorn
in the flesh, with her perpetual " wonderings " what this and
that person would say, her conjectures, speculations, and con-
gratulations.
Toward evening this condition of things as regarded Mr.
Bolton became so intolerable that Maggie could endure it no
longer. " It makes me miserable to see you look so sad,
dear Mr. Bolton," she said, drawing a foot-stool beside his
chair. " I feel a sort of guilty creature to have caused you
uneasiness, and to have made Mr. Trafford care about me ;
but but, I cannot help it."
" No, no, of course not, my dear, and personally I highly
approve his choice ; it is only a little startling at first, and I
was so in hopes he would think of nothing but his profession
and making a place for himself ! '
J22 THE WOOING O'T.
" And do you think / would idle him, and hold him back in
any way ? " cried Maggie, much distressed. " If you think it
right and better for him, I am quite willing to give him up,
and never see him again or
" My dear child, YOU could not ! Mr. Trafford's mind is
thoroughly made up. Neither you nor I, nor any one else,
will shake his purpose. He is no inexperienced boy like the
earl. I should never dream of opposing him. I am afraid I
am unkind and inconsiderate to you, but we will all come
right bye-and-bye ; besides, you will be a terrible loss to me.
You must allow for selfish regrets," and he took her hand
kindly.
" Ah ! said Maggie, pressing her cheek against the feeble
hand that held hers, " you must come and live near Mr. Traf-
ford and and myself when things are settled if such won-
derful things can be settled and then I can still be your
daughter."
" That would be a comfort," sighed Mr. Bolton.
" I will never leave you without finding some one to come
in and read and write for you, while you are here," continued
Maggie ; and then their talk flowed on quietly though broken-
ly, and complete peace was established between them.
The next day brought Maggie an enchanting letter, tender,
bright, and full of quiet humor shining through its deeper
feeling. Of course it had to be replied to, and that was
enough joy to have lit up a whole week. Gradually the
astonishing fact that she was engaged to Trafford, and on the
point of becoming his wife, grew delightfully familiar to Mag-
gie's mind, and its more awful aspects disappeared. Then
came a welcome epistle from dear Miss Grantham, beginning,
" So we are to be kinsfolk as well as acquaintance, dear
Maggie," and continuing, in the kindest, frankest tone, to des-
cribe her own preparation for the event, and her complete
consent. " You would laugh if you could have seen Torches-
ter's mingled amazement and amusement. I cannot help
imagining that on the whole he is highly delighted, though I
cannot quite understand him. Of course it seems to him as
it would to any one rather mad of Geoffrey to think of
marrying any one just now ; but he has always been so thor-
oughly independent, such a mentor to Torchester and myself,
that we would as soon think of dictating to majesty as ad-
vising him, and I trust in Heaven all will go well and happily
with you both. I must, however, admit that Lady Torchester
is in a dreadful state of mind. She was here to-day on hef
THE WOOING O'T. 523
way to see Geoffrey, to remonstrate with him, etc. Much ef-
fect she will produce ! But she may worry him. So I am
quite of his opinion that the sooner you are married the bet-
ter. Lady Torchester and every one else must thereafter
ever hold their peace ; besides, I want to be at your wedding,
and cannot postpone my departure for our cruise much
longer."
" Aunt Grey " wrote " after her kind," and Trafford was
much pleased with Uncle Grey's kindly simple reply to his
letter.
There is no more to tell. One chapter of a woman's life is
finished, and into the deeper, sweeter, homelier mysteries and
interests of the next, writers of English fiction seldom venture
to extend their explorations :
" The reason of the strongest is always the best."
Trafford had his way, and his very quiet, almost private,
wedding, was performed in time to allow the happy couple to
spend all the long vacation together at the " leafy retreat " in
Wales, as that gentleman had planned.
" I little thought when we met in Paris," said the earl to
his cousin's bride, as he handed her into the Eastnor fly
which was to convey them to the station, " that the first kiss
you were to bestow on me would be as Geoff Trafford's wife."
" What a wonderfnl ending ! How good you have always
been to me, dear Lord Torchester."
" Well, take care of Geoff, for he is a good fellow."
" How awfully happy they are," said the earl enviously,
with a look half comic, half wistful, as he rejoined his cousin,
whom he found alone in the little drawing-room.
" I wish, Margaret, we were going to follow suit.'*
" Dear Torchester, don't talk nonsense to me now."
" Not now ? Well, when may I talk what you choose to call
nonsense, eh, Margaret ? "
" Oh, I don't know ! When we are under blue skies in a
southern climate, perhaps."