Barbara Rebell

I have p

ight for r

ote on thin

tward-hand

-beauties

let affec

th

ming and going in her cheeks, Madame Sampiero's gaze rested on her with critical pleasure and approval, lingering over every detail of the pretty brown cloth gown and n

ithout first asking formal leave of Doctor McKirdy, and he had given in with a good grace. She had won the heart of Mrs. Turke, and w

tributed, though she felt rather ashamed of it, to her feeling of light-heartedness. Barbara Rebell, moving as one at home about the Priory, looked another creature fr

rer had apparently not dared to put by, as was the rule with such missives, and indeed with all letters addressed to the mistress of the Pri

as child and girl in her letters to Madame Sampiero, and she had now discovered that it was preferred to it

s not yet dry,-it must therefore have been written, in great haste, just now in the hall, and mu

onvenience about a certain matter concerning which your personal opinion and decision are urgently re

faith

r Bori

im, child-our Chancton jeune premier?" and the ghost of a sat

is sister who was so kind to me in Santa Maria. May I send for him

ly conveyed upstairs, had not waited, as Barbara had expected to find, in the corridor.

ill you kindly come up-now-to Madame Sampiero? She is quite ready to see you!" To the young man the low, very clear voice, see

few people connected with Madame Sampiero's past life-perhaps one of the cousins who sometimes came to Chancto

with heightened colour she said, "I know that you are Grace Johnstone's brother, I have been hoping the last few days to go and see your mother. Will you please tell her how much I look forward to meeting her?" A

self curiously transformed, the atmosphere about him more human, less frigid than in those days when hi

ed inwardly when his eyes met those of the paralysed woman stretched out before him: Boringdon was not imaginative, and yet these wide open

ed him out a cup of tea, and had installed him by her side. Later, when she made a movement as if to leave him alone with Madame Sampiero, she was stopped with a look, and Boringdon, far from feeling the presence of a third person as disagreeable and as

Indeed, during the discussion Boringdon had the curious feeling that this soft-voiced stranger, who, after all, was in no position to judge between himself and the peccant farmer, was being made to give the ultimate decision. It was Barbara also who had to repeat, to make clear to him, reddening and smiling as she did so, her god-mother's last words, "If

he told himself again and again when he thought over the scene later,-swept over the young man when he saw Doctor McKirdy pacing, w

I'm not responsible for what the consequences may be. Madam's not fit to be worried o'er business-not fit at all!" The words came out in sharp

man McGregor! He will have to be dismissed, not a doubt about it! He has the strictest, the very strictest orders-he must have been daft

er and indignation were justified. Boringdon knew well enough that, but for McKirdy's absence from the Priory that afternoon, he could never have penetrated into Madame Sampiero's presence. He had also been aware that McGregor was acting in direct con

, and so it is I alone, Doctor McKirdy, who should be blamed for what has happened. Madame Sampiero asked my advice as to whether she should see him, and as

rsion at herself she felt to be cruelly unjust, almost, she would have said, had she not become really fond of him, impertinent;

caught fire. Like most gentle, self-restrained natures, she was capable o

any way injured by seeing Mr. Boringdon." She turned, rather imperiously, to the young man. "I think," she said, "that now we had better go ou

pen air, Boringdon following her rather shamefacedly, and in silence they struck off down the path which le

ining to Mrs. Rebell the odd position in which he often found himself. The conversation which followed caused

r McKirdy, that they talked, and it was pleasant to Boringdon to hear his own part being taken to himself, to hear McKirdy severely cens

eyes for the noble trees arching overhead; and when at last they came out, from the twil

he felt not unkindly towards the old man he had conquered in what, he confessed to himself, had been unfair fight. With Mrs. Rebell on his side he could afford to smile at McKirdy's queer susceptibilities and jealousies. He must come and see her to-morro

er much hesitation and searching of he

the Grange? It seems a long

wn calmness, his absence of annoyance; that disagreeable

that you made a mistake the other day-I mean as regards Lucy;"-a note of reserve and discomfort crept into his voice as he pronounced her name,-"The General's manner was unmistakab

question, "And Madame Sampiero,-I suppose you did not see

nterview with Madame Sampiero, owing it, in a measure, to Mrs. Rebell. Madame Sampiero is evide

lace like Chancton. I suppose," Mrs. Boringdon spoke absently, but her son knew that she

wered rather drily, "Why sho

o have called. I hope you explained the ma

tinctive dislike to the idea, of discussing Mrs. Rebell with his

floor of the old manor-house, tucked away between the drawing-room, which was very little used except in the evening, and the long music gallery, and it was characte

r of complete relaxation and rest. The panelled walls, painted a pale blue, were hung with a few fine engravings of the more famous Stuart portraits, including two of that Arabella Stuart afte

and factotum, to take the material cares off her shoulders. Lord Bosworth was nothing if not hospitable. There was a constant coming and going of agreeable men and women in whatever place he h

le one, and she had set her whole mind to making it successful. Even now, she had pleasant, nay delightful, moments, but as she grew older, and

ppleby and Kendal's only son, which were shortly to take place at Halnakeham Castle. He had always had,-so his sister reminded herself with curling lip,-a curious attachment to this neighbourhood, a great desire to play a part in all local matters; this was the more strang

ost important matters to Arabella, Berwick himself. She had just learned, from one of the guests who had arrived at Fletchings the day before, that the woman whom, on the whole, she regarded as havi

icult for her to do so. She knew herself to be on the eve of receiving a very desirable offer of marriage. Its acceptance by her would be, in a sense, the crowning act of her successful life. The man was an ambassador, one of the most disting

d once loved-to come and spend a few days at Fletchings. They had met many times since that decisive interview in Kensington Gardens which had been so strangely interrupted by Oliver Boringdon-for such meetings are the unforeseen penalties attendant on such conduct as had b

to be done, to "rush her fences." She took up her pen and wrote, in he

was intolerably bitter. Arabella even now never thought of him without asking herself how it happened that she had not realised what manner of man he really was, and why she had n

of his real power. Her uncle, Lord Bosworth, had been more clear-sighted, in those far-off days when he had enc

O'Flaherty's coming to Fletchings, or his staying away, entirely to his own sense of what was fitting. He had become, as

and fatigue which had come over-it seemed to him only since yesterday-his niece's delicate clear-cut features and shadowed fairness. Arabella Berwick had always been a good-looking replica of her remarkable-looking brother, but youth, which remains so long wi

id the great surprise she felt at seeing him here, for this was, as far as she could remember, her uncle's first visit to th

got hold of long ago. We seem to have lost sight of him. I know I went to some trouble for him years ago

and the thought that Lord Bosworth had suspected anything concerning what had occurred between herself and O'Flaherty would have been intensely disagreeable to Arabel

than I should have thought he could have written on such a subject, but it amounts to this: before offering himself, he wishes to be sure of what your answer will be, an

ck's face. She felt relieved and rather touched.

. He said no word as to his niece's happiness being of more consequence than h

me Sampiero an offer of marriage some six or seven years ago, not long after the death of-of Sampiero. I believe her answer was contained in one of the very last letters she ever wrote with her own hand. Well, now-in fact for a long time past-

hment. She felt mortified to think how little she ha

you would find such an exist

an, Arabella, and I have always done full justice to your powers, but, believe me, there are certain things undreamt of in your philosophy, and

apart from any question of our immediate future, you must remember, my dear, that I'm an old man. I cannot help thinking that your life alone would be very dreary, and, much as you care for James, I cannot see either of you making in a permanent sense any kind of life with the other. In your place

out, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with her thought