Robert Orange

ersome springs and attached to a pair of fine greys, was standing before the Earl of Garrow's town residence in St. James's Square. The hall clock within that mansion chimed four, the great doors we

ned the grey walls; to criticise the fresh brown rosette under the near horse's ear; to bestow a swift glance upon

Carlto

rilliant display of their well-disciplined mettle, suffered

ne, had a scarlet eloquence more pleasing than sculpturesque severity. At the moment, she wore no gloves, and her tapering fingers shared their characteristic with her nose, which also tapered, with exquisite lightness of mould, into a point. For colour, she had a gypsy's red and brown. The string of gold beads which she fastened habitually round her throat showed well against the warm tints in

age which she had received by post two days before from a nobleman of great fortune, the Duke of Marshire. But Sara was ambitious-not mercena

e said to herself, "th

s." This time, however, he did neither of these things, but watched the reflection of his daughter's face in the carriage window before him. He had white hair, a dyed moustache and a small imperial-also dyed the deepest black-just under the lower lip. In appearance he was, spite of the false touches, good-looking, sensitive, and perhaps too mild. The cleft in his rounded chin was the sole mark of decision in a countenance whose features were curved-wherever a curve was possible-to a degree approaching caricature. Temples, eyebrows, nostrils, and moustache, all described a series of semi-circles which, accentuated by a livid complexion and curling hair, presented an effect somewhat commonplace and a little tiresome. He had spent his existence among beings to whom nothing seemed natural which did not depart most earnestly from all that nature is and teaches: he had always endeavoured to maintain the ideal of a Christian gentleman where, as a matter of fact, Christianity was understood rather as a good manner than a faith, and ideals were prejudices of race rather than aspirations of the soul. Well-born, well-bred, and moderately learned, he was not, and could never be, more than dull or less than dignified. The second son of his father, he had spe

n the object of his wife's supreme devotion. Before the child's birth she had given him an emerald ring which, she declared, was all that she valued on earth. It was no gift of his; it had belonged to a young attaché to her father's embassy. Affection had taught Lord Garrow something; he asked no questions; the jewel was placed, by his orders, on her dead hand; it was buried with her, and with that burial he included any jealousy of her early romance. He had been sincerely, wholly attached to her; he had been proud of her graces and accomplishments; he knew her virtue and honoured her pure mind; she was the one woman he had ever wished to marry. He did not regret, nay, it was impossible to regret, their marriage. But she had been ever an alien and a stranger. Each ha

you se

any case, I think he woul

hy

ire is a man of the nicest feeling. He

and so disg

" she said. "I was thinki

xclaimed Lord Garr

with Lord Wight? He seems to me a coming man; and

uent. Was his daughter not weighing-with prayer, he hoped, and certainly with all her senses-the prospect of an alliance with the Duk

know him?" he

emarkable person. But

gins. While we have our Howards, our Talbots, and our Poulets-to say nothing of the De Courcys and Clif

I dislike the class which ambition, wealth, and pride separate from

desire to shun companionship and be alone. Her deli

en it seems an are

your age you must learn to liv

where I should b

staking the imagination for the soul? Young people

ust utter contradictions. I like my advantages while I despise them. I wish to

r mind is disturbed by a question which you m

, I c

to take time before you object to wh

rable enough, b

ess? You would be in possession of a station where your interest would be as independent as your spirit. Nothing could have been more brilliant, or flatteri

had been for some time very near his heart. She resolved, on the instant, not to fail him; but as

love him,"

quire an unconquerable love

e had that for certain friends-for one or two,

n? Why do you

hbour's pedigree? I believe that his family is every bit as good as ours. His second name is de Hausée.

character. To-day I could even accuse you of levity. Dearest Sar

give my especial blessings for any other earthly happiness, and then, a moment

rices, when we know, by experience, how short is the plea

eary, disgusted, and dismayed. But the soul is never bored

ess, the approach of a sentimental mood which he

e least interest in things or people?" she continued. "I am not i

does i

nd upon her j

id. "The autumn is treachero

ds which, grey, heavy, and impenetrable, moved,

ain! I like to be

nes, give a charm to life, whereas passions-" he put some s

ate, does not seem

oint, he must change. He admires and respects you, my

way from the few carriages filled with invalids or

ked me to marry him because it is his duty to choose a wife from his own circle. I have no illusions in the matter. N

ing you just. I have had an extr

quet with her in the evenings, and feed her peacocks in the

is to take place. I wish I could tell he

smile, "you are anxious, I see, to be r

what e

wis

ppiest, too?" he a

I a woman who could, by any chance, be

in the exposition of his theories to reach an intelligence with whom the desire of virtues would have to come as a passion-inspiring and inspired or else be utterly repudiated. Utilitarianism, and the greatest happiness of the greatest number, comfortable domestic axioms, little schemes for the elevation of the masses by the classes, had, on their logical basis, no attraction for this sceptical, wayward girl. To be merely useful was, in her eyes, to make oneself meddlesome and absurd. The obje

d happy at the same

upt standstill, and, on looking out, Lord Garrow observed that the coachman had halted in ob

Earl; "I never knew a man so

" said Sara, flushing a little. "I

me man with an auburn beard and ve

is errand, the hunter, who was nearly quite thoroughbred and a magnificent animal,

said Lord Garrow.

him," observe

s late for tea. Wh

one out above the trees, which were dull but not yet leafless. Grey and sulphurous and gold-edged clouds floated in masses on the b

please about Reckage, but I call him a spooney. That horse was a noble hor

age," was the dry response. "Poor Reckage is a brilli

unted the long staircase to the drawing-room, where the tea-table was already spread, the flame quivering under the kettle, the deep pink china laid out on a silver tray. But the homeliness of the scene and its familiarity had no power to soothe that aching, distracted heart. Had she been a man, she thought, s

d Lord Garrow, who was fol

ife! That is all tha

you h

ng capability. Let us say no more about it. I m

oor uncle used to say, if women deserved happiness they would bear it better