Mount Royal, Volume 3 of 3

f land-English land. Those shining lights y

seem cramped and narrow-not much better than the squirrel's cage seems to the squirrel-after the vast width and margin of that wilder, freer world they had just left-where men and women were not much more civilized than the unbroken horses

, a world created for him to roam about in, climbing all its hills, shooting in all its forests, fishing in all its rivers, exhausting all the sport and amusement that was to be had out of it-and with no anchor to chain him down to any given spot. Yet, though he had none of the deep feeling of the exile returning to the country of his birth, he was not without emotion as he saw the Lizard light broadening and yellowing under the pale beams of a young

though that reason was strong enough for hatred-but because the man was in every attribute so much his own superior. Never had Leonard Tregonell felt such keen anxiety a

tions-telling him of his boy's health and general progress, and of any details about the estate which it was his place to be told. Of Christabel she wrote as briefl

ews of the boy's growth and improvement, and to the particulars of their movements from one place to another-letters which gave not t

tears or sullen gloom. Albeit not of a sensitive nature, this uncertainty made him uncomfortable, and he looked at yonder faint grey shore-the

he South; but it had a teeming life and perpetual movement, which were unknown on the shores of the Pacific; the press and hurry of many industries-the steady fervour of a town where wealth is made by honest labour-the intensity of a place which is in so

ston, where the Mount Royal wagonette, and a cart f

Mount?" asked Leonard, as

s,

luggage-gun-cases, dressing-bags, despatch-boxes-and away they went up the castle hill, and then sharp round to the right, and off at a dashing pace along the road to the moor.

dge, and saw all the lights of the old wide-spreading Tudor fron

ittle moved at sight of the house in which he had be

's a glorious old place, and you needn't apologize for being proud of it. And now we've come back, I hope you are going to be jolly, f

ever cared about having people. We should hav

I can say is there's a good deal of candlel

ll aglow with light and fire; people were moving about near the hearth. It was a relief to Leonard to see this life and brigh

horses, and two tall slim figures with fluffy heads, short-waisted

, delighted. "How awfully jolly o

e's house. She who, even in the height of the London season, had been simplicity itself, recalling to those who most admired her, the picture of that chaste and unworldly maiden who dwelt beside the Dove, now wore an elaborate costume of brown velvet and satin, in which a Louis Quinze velvet coat, with large cut-steel buttons and Mechlin jabot, was the most striking feature. Her fair, soft hair was now fluffy, and stood up in an infinity of frizzy curls from the broad white fore

from love-making to gourmandize. There, again, marked out from the rest by a thoroughly prosaic air, which, in these days of artistic sensationalism is in itself a distinction-pale, placid, taking his ease in a low basket chair, with his languid hand on Randie's black muzzle-sat Mr. FitzJesse, the journalist, proprietor and editor of The Sling, a fashionable weekly-the man who was always smiting the Goliahs of pretence and dishonesty with a pen that was sharper than any stone that ever David slung against the foe. He was such an amiable-looking man-had such a power of obliterating every token of intellectual force and fire from the calm surface of his countenance, that people, seeing him for the first time, were apt to stare at him in blank wonder

ntrived to look seven-and-twenty; the Rev. St. Bernard Faddie, an Anglican curate, who carried Ritualism to the extremest limit consistent with the retention of his stipend as a minister of the Church of England, and who was always at loggerheads with some of his parishioners. There were Mr. and Mrs. St. Aubyn a

said his wife, smiling at her

ke a cup of tea. One of the numerous tea-tables had been established in a corner near the fire, and Miss Bridgeman, i

l entwined about him, still faintly suggestive of that poor man and th

here were no flowers about in tubs or on tables. That subtle grace-as of a thoughtful woman's hand ruling and arranging everything, artistic even where seeming most careless-was missing. Papers, books were thrown anyhow upon the tables; whips, carriage-rugs, wraps, hats, encumbered the chairs near the door. Half-a-dozen dogs-pointers, setters, collie-sprawled or prowled about the room.

exploring the hall and its

should he be?" exclai

th you. I thought he might have

e. There was no vein of poetry in his nature, yet unconsciously the memory of such pictures had associated itself with his wife's image. And instead of that holy

you, especially if you have brought him some South American toys; but I thought it would bore you to see him befor

onard, curtly; "I can fi

d in the midst of the cheerful circle, drinking soda water and brand

regonell, that is the soil for poetry and adventure; a land of extinct volcanoes. If Byron had known the shores of the Amazon, he would have struck a deeper note o

me rather strong poetry out of Switzerland

ght have written had he know

the Pampas?" sa

horses, and wilder humanity

published a vo

ies. But I do not place myse

e an original idea-and in an age marked by a total exhaus

sked Emily St. Aubyn, a well-grown upstanding youn

very fine bree

which follows one to one's doorstep, is the most faithful and intelligent of the whole canine race. Huxley may exalt Blenheim spaniels as the nea

dies in middle life from the consequences of over-feeding,"

g amiably on end, with his fore-paws on the cushioned elbow of her chair. "Do you know that these dogs smile when t

mourn," said FitzJesse. "I

ecock conversation-making a mock of most things and most people. Christabel joined in it all; and some of the bitte

ey elbowed each other before the looking-glass, the first armed with a powder puff, the secon

's ever so much easier to get on with. I didn't

" faltered Dopsy. "I wasn't able to get on with her, but I couldn't help looking

s three times as nice as it was last year," said Mopsy, turning the corner of an eyebrow wit

little more careful

to want the glass exactly

n?" asked Dopsy, when a brief si

old me that he was born and brought up in Jersey-that his father

me by his title-if

e said. He belonged to an old Huguenot family-those people who were massacred in the opera, don't you know-and the title had been allowed to go dead-till this man

of the Sheffield

age. FitzJesse says they both lived upon brandy, but

Mrs. Tregonell to invite

-but he's ve

nowledge-an active, vivacious being, full of health and energy. Whatever duties Christabel had neglected during her husband's absence, the boy had, at least, suffered no neglect. Never

s clothes had been put ready for him, and candles lighted by his Swiss valet. The dressing-room was at that end of the corridor most remote

were henceforth to lead divided lives. The event of last October, his year of absence, had built

stance. Every look, every tone just now was a defiance. Of course I know that she loved that man-loved him first-last-always; never caring a straw for me. She was too careful of herself-had been brought up too well to go wro

wn to the drawing-room, feeling like a visitor in a strange house, half inclined to wonder how he would be received by his wife and his wife's guests. He who had always ruled suprem

ear relationship to the bead and feather-wearing savage-but de Cazalet had made himself as gorgeous as he could with jewelled studs, embroidered shirt, satin under-waistcoat, amber silk stockings, and Queen Ann shoes. He was assuredly handsome-but he had just that style of beauty which to the fastidious mind is more revolting than positive ugliness. Dark-brown eyes, strongly arch

e asked himself. "I should have thought he

ck to your Lares and Penates,"

red Leonard, flinging himself into a large armchair by the fir

t if I ever found myself in this part of the country she would be pleased to receive me in her house. I needn't tell you that with such a temptation in view I was very glad to bend my step

at traveller,

the tents of the Arabs. I have bivouacked on the Pampas-and enjoyed life in all the cities of the South, from Valparaiso to C

aineering," said Leonard, smiling grimly at the B

thermometer below zero, a doubtful supply of provisions, pemmican, roasted s

with an approving smile. This no doubt was the kind of Inn at which he loved to take his ease-a hou

ich always savoured of the stable and farmyard, were more refined or elegant; but the St. Aubyns arrogated to themselves the right to be vulgar, and resented free-and-easy manners in two young persons who were obviously poor and obviously obscure as to their surroundings. If their gowns had been made by a West End

d stars in her hair, a style curiously different from those quiet dinner dresses she had been wont to wear a year ago. Leonard looked at her in blank amazement-just as he ha

the general joy of the whole table. Very different was the banquet of to-day from that quiet dinner on the first night of Mr. Hamleigh's visit to Mount Royal, that dinner at which Leonard watched his wife so intensely, eager to discover to what degree she was affected by the presence of her first lover. He watched her to-night, at the head of her brilliantly lighted dinner-table-no longer the old subdued light of low shaded lamps, but the radiance of innumerable candles in lofty silver candelabra, shining over a striking decoration of vivid crimson asters and spreading palm-leaves-he watched her helplessly, hopelessly, knowing that he and she were ever so much farther apart than they had been in the days before he broug

of view. "It was my determination to have my own way that wrecked me. I couldn't submit to be conquered by a girl-to have the wife I had set my heart upon when I was a boy, stolen

is host's La Rose-and when Mr. St. Aubyn expanded himself in county talk, enlightening the wanderer as to the progress of events during his absence-while Mr. FitzJesse sat blandly puffing his cigarette, a silent observer of the speech and gestures of the county magnate, speculating, from a scientific point of view, as to how much of this talk were purely automatic-an inane drivel

immediate adjournment to billiards, but to his

ming?" asked J

not to appreciate the novelty of an evening with ladies. You an

er like sitting in a billiard-room and listening to the co

no, and the music of a rich baritone, trolling out a popular air from the most fashionable opera-bouffe-that one piece which all P

a refrain which would have been distinctly indecent, if the tails of all th

the decline of the Roman Empire," said FitzJesse, "when

power which Leonard never remembered to have heard from her before. The two voices

ouse-sings, and plays, and recites, and acts-rather puffy and short-winded in his elocution-if

eems to have made himself agreeable-or useful-to Mrs. Tregonell and Miss Bridgeman; and, in a moment of ill-

deal about him-nothing actually to his detriment. The man was a full-blown adventurer when he had the good luck to get hold of a rich wife. He pays hi

he d

y cubic space-the amount he can hold. His brain and constitution

' said Mrs. Tregonell, while her guests ranged themselves into an irregular semicircle, and the useful Miss Bridgeman placed a prie-dieu c

Mr. Tregonell, as he seated himself and surv

a of confidential relations, yet may mean no more than a vain man's desire to appear the accepted worshipper of a beautiful

e supposed she would tolerate," thought Leonard;

rid American have written anything so clever? But then it was Colonel Blathwayt's inimitable elocution which gave a charm

r sunflower fan-a great yellow flower, like the sign of the Sun

iments for what they were worth. "You'll have to be very attentive if you want

page, coughed faintly, and then began in thick, hurried accents, which kept getting thicker and more hurried as the poem advanced. It was given, no

o pathetic!" exclaimed a

t: they would be delighted," said Mr. Faddie, wh

to understand," remarked Mr. FitzJ

-makes it ever so much more real, d

s Lee!" si

Lee!" ejacu

?" asked Mi

which the Baron fired off the verses having left all those among his

y, changeful and capricious as the skylark's song-a very fountain of joyous fancies. Mr. Tregonell had never appreciated Beethoven, being, indeed, as unmusical a soul as God ever created; but he thought it a more respect

must be of your wife-such verve-such élan-so thoroughly in the spirit of the thing. That is the only kind of singing anybody really cares for now. One goes to

is wife, in the act of singing a refrain, of Bé-bé-bé, which

e goes so admirably w

rably," said Leonard, sor

u had last year. I felt so intensely sorry for you all-yet I was selfish enough to be glad I had

y brought

? One always wants to know these th

e Blue

r awfully near. Do you believe in spiritual influences? Have you ever had a

sh for the hall. And so ended his first evening at home with