A Great Success

ttractive. Arthur's study was unrecognisable. No cheerful litter anywhere. No smell of tobacco, no sign of a male presence! Doris, walking restlessly from room to room, had n

ould feel it if her son made a ridiculous and degrading marriage. But why not?-why shouldn't he come to grief like anybody else's son? Why should heaven and eart

nubbed so unkindly some twelve months before. She was evidently a sweet-natured, susceptible creature, to whom Lord Dunstable had taken a fancy, in his fatherly way, during occasional visits to her father's rectory, and of whom he had spoken to his wife. That Lady Dunstable should have unkindly slighted this motherless girl, who had evidently plenty of natural capacity

The boy was more than of age. Really he and his mother must look after themselves. To meddle with the young man's love affairs, simply because he happened to visit your studio in the company of a lady, would be outrageous. So the painter laughed, shook his head, and went back to his picture

had gathered up her papers, some of which had drifted to the floor between her table and Doris's easel, and had taken an immediate de

deserted study, thinking, as the sunset light came in across the dusty street, of that flame and splendour which such weather must be kindling on the moors, of the blue and purple distances, the glens of rocky mountains hung in air, "the gleam, the shadow, and the peace supreme"! She remembered how on their September honeymoon they had wandere

ything about the incident of the afternoon? Why should she? Why should she give him the chance o

arles was wrestling with another historical picture, a machine neither better nor worse than all the others. She thought that after all Jane would soon

e conc

nds delightful. We might do a week's climbing and then go on to the sea. I really shall want a holiday. Has there

irresolutely, then put it in an envelope hastily, addressed, stamped it, and rang the bell for Jane to run across the

*

. She saw, to her astonishment, that the girl-accountant of the morning, Mi

mmoned by Jane, entered the dust-sheeted drawing-room. "But you dropped an envelope with an addre

ch Arthur had written out for her before leaving home-"care of the Lord Dunstable, Franick Castle, Pitlochry,

d each other. The girl

o know how to begin

oke the

d to find that I kn

her visitor-"I supposed some frien

s, quietly. Really it was too much troub

uld this extraordinary little lady have behaved at the studio as if she had never heard of

ith perfect se

act is I didn't want to be mixed up with the affair at all. We have only lately made acquaintance with the Dunstables. Lady Dunstabl

ttle. I have hardly ever spoken to him. You saw he didn't recognise me this afternoon. But my father used to go over to Crosby Ledgers to coach him in the holidays, and he often told me that as a boy he was terrified of his mother. She either took no notice of him at all, or she was always sneering at him, and scolding him. As soon as ever he came of age and got a little money of his own, he decl

w up her hand

t up, wi

she said, "does it ma

for the family. They've been there since Queen Elizabeth's time. And it's dreadful to think of a woman like-well, like that!-reigning at Crosby Ledgers. I think of the poor people. Lady Dunstable's good to them; though of course you wouldn't hear anything about it

said Doris, after a

urself that you a

intimidated her visitor, and then spurred

great deal. I didn't have to go to the man whose address Mr. Bentley gave me. Madame Vavasour is a horrid woman! This is not the first young man she's fleeced-by a long way. There was a man-younger than Mr. Dunstable, a boy of nineteen-three years ago. She got him to promise to marry her; and the parents came down, and paid her enormously to let him

shrug. "Well!"-she turned her eyes full up

r look

you write to Mr. Mead

Dunst

hook he

you do it

n't worth telling!-but he wrote her an angry letter, and they never spoke afterwards. Lady Dunstable never forgives

at are the facts? Has the boy actually promised to ma

get. Well, she told me that Madame-they all call her Madame, though they all know quite well that she's not married, and that her name is Flink-boasts perpetually of her engagement. It seems that he was ill in the winter-in his lodgings. His mother knew nothing about it-he wouldn't tell her, and Madame nursed him, and made

f he's such a fool-why hasn't he m

m looked d

. And he hates the thought of the letters and the scenes. So he keeps it hanging on; and lately Madame has been furious with him, and is always teasing and sniffing at him. He's dreadful

nt. After which Doris sa

y Dunstable with her son. There is nobody in the world less helpless than Lady Dunstable

spoke, and Miss

e? I'm thinking of the villagers, and the farmers, and the schools-all the people we used to love

dge. This loyalty that people born and bred in the country feel to our English country system-

erybody rushes to help them when they get into a mess-to pick up the pieces-and sweep it all up! It's irr

very awkward it would be? Let me advise you just to watch the thing a little, and then to apply to somebody in the Crosby Ledgers neighbourhood. You must have some fri

untenance; then with a sigh she gave up her attempt,

mpunction. "And I suppose this woman will be there again. You can

ough she recognised the new softness in Doris's look, she added, "I'

*

unt of conscience-hard lines!" thought Doris, as she re

ost was not at all calculated to melt the "black imp" further. Arthur wrote in a

ortnight, but you won't mind, dear, will you? I am getting famously rested, and really the house is very agreeable. In these surroundings Lady Dunstable is less of the bas-bleu, and more of the woman. You must make up your mind to come another year! You would soon get over your prejudice

e all done by the time Arthur graciously condescended to come back to her? Were there not dark lines under her eyes, and was she not feeling a limp and wretched creature, unfit for any exertion? What was wrong with her? She hated her drawing-s

scene which any day might realise-the scene at Franick Castle, when Lady Dunstable, unsuspecting, should open the letter which announced to her the advent of her daughter-in-law, Elena, née Flink-or should gather the same unlovely fact from a casual newspaper paragraph. As for interfering between her and her rich deserts, Doris vowed to herself she would not lift a finger. That incredibl

to her uncle's studio. But it was soon evident that within the studio itself there was animation enough. From the long passage approaching it Doris heard someone shouting-declaiming-what appeared to be verse. Madame, o

ant! The tear-dro

path, and tear th

its close, to snip

t life to ru

bleating lamb

the moon o'e

vering veins a ten

Reach out, my L

these ugly beasts

day long-beast

, and Calumny!

uths, O splendid

ctics, and their

t the awful "Mig

he studio door, and perceived Lady Dunstable's prospective daughter-in-law standing in the middle of the studio, head thrown back and hands out

s own, and to be winking roguishly at the audience. Meanwhile Madame's muslin dress of the day before had been exchanged for something more appropriate to the warmth of her poetry-a tawdry flame-coloured satin, in which her "

t, as she stood, herself invisible, behind her uncle's large easel. Thence she perceived also the other persons in the studio:-Bentley sitting in front of the poetess, hiding his eyes with one hand

to look at young Dunstable. For it was he who had laughed. Madame also shook off her stage trance to look-a thunderous frown upon her handsome fac

ave done it before. And now before stranger

still convulsed, did his best to quiet the paroxy

ting that at Crosby Ledgers-to my

ould be seen that the poe

what would

stepped forward. Her uncle stayed her with a gesture. He himself rose, but Madame fie

demanded Madame, again

young Dunstable, help

nk-she'd

it her lip. Then came a torrent of Italian-evidently a torrent of abuse; and

my promised husband-and you mock at me; you will encourage your

For Herbert Dunstable had risen. At the blow, an amazing change had passed over his weak countenance and weedy frame. He put his

?" stammered Madame. "I-I was

xtremely pale. "This is not the first time.

Doris seemed to perceive, the traditions of his birth and breeding had returned upon him; something instinctive and inherited had reappeared; and the gen

ted Madame, eyeing him. "You

u kindly see-Miss Flink-into a taxi? I thank you very much for allowing me t

quietly but irresistibly, while the young man made his retreat. Then, with a shriek, Madame fell back on her chair, pretending to fai

le, may I sp

t, showing a grim pallor

ges some weeks ago, and my husband is now in Scotland with your people. His name is Arthur Meadows. I am Mrs

ith the same expression she had often worn when Arthur had come to her with some confession of folly-the expression which belongs to the maternal side of women,

l. Only I've found out now I can never live with her. Her temper is fiendish. It degrades her-and me. But you saw! She has made my life a burden to me lately, because I wouldn't name a day for us to be married. I wanted to see my father quietly first-without my mother knowing-and I have been thinking how to manage it-and funking it of course-I a

all dining-room and closed the door. She listened

id abruptly, when he paused. "Br

tation, I mean. There is only one thing could let me off. She swore to me that-we

f nothing?" sai

y and ferret out things against her!" cried t

nts that will h

ce har

into that. My father will see I couldn't do anything else. I'd better get it

tell you

o do so. She argued with him a little more, trying to get at his real thoughts, and to straighten them out for him. But it was evident he had made up

er decidedly. He thanked her warmly-though drearily-for tak

Mrs. Meadows-and I'll be there-for once! Then I'll tell

*

be moved to take the thing up. "I kept her from scalping him!-" he laughed-"and I'm not due for any more!" Doris said little. A whirl of arguments and projects were in her mind. But she kept her own counsel about

*

hade of trees already autumnal, watching the multitude of children-children of the people-enjoying the nation's park all to themselves, in the complete absence of their social betters. What ducks they were

time motionless; then rising to her feet, tottering a little, like one in bewilderment, she turned northwards, and made her way hurriedly towards Lancaster Gate. In a house there, lived a lady, a widowed lady, who was Doris's godmother, and to whom Doris-who had los

ng sun lay over the grassy glades; the Serpentine held reflections of a sky barred with rose; London, transfigured, seemed a city of pearl and fire. And in Doris's heart there was a glory like

a woman-and I didn't know-if all his life-a

med to be walking with Arthur throu

use, asking for railway guides, and peremptorily telling Ja

RT