The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II). Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ and so he grew cautious. But, somehow, his reserve provoked as little as his boldness. She did not change in the least; she treated him with a quiet, easy sort of no-notice, – the most offensive thing possible to one bent upon being impressive, and firmly persuaded that he need only wish, to be the conqueror.

      Self-worship was too strong in him to suffer a single doubt as to his own capacity for success, and therefore the only solution to the mystery of her manner was its being an artful scheme, which time and a little watching would surely explain. Time went on, and yet he grew none the wiser; Kate continued the same impassive creature as at first. She never sought, – never avoided him. She met him without constraint, – without pleasure, too. They never became intimate, while there was no distance in their intercourse; till at last, wounded in his self-esteem, he began to feel that discomfort in her presence which only waits for the slightest provocation to become actual dislike.

      With that peevishness that belongs to small minds, he would have been glad to have discovered some good ground for hating her; and a dozen times a day did he fancy that he had “hit the blot,” but somehow he always detected his mistake erelong; and thus did he live on in that tantalizing state of uncertainty and indecision which combines about as much suffering as men of his stamp are capable of feeling.

      If Lady Dorothea never suspected the degree of influence Kate silently exercised over her, the Captain saw it palpably, and tried to nourish the knowledge into a ground for dislike. But somehow she would no more suffer herself to be hated than to be loved, and invariably baffled all his attempts to “get up” an indignation against her. By numberless devices – too slight, too evanescent to be called regular coquetry – she understood how to conciliate him, even in his roughest moods, while she had only to make the very least possible display of her attractions to fascinate him in his happier moments. The gallant hussar was not much given to self-examination. It was one of the last positions he would have selected; and yet he had confessed to his own heart that, though he ‘d not like to marry her himself, he ‘d be sorely tempted to shoot any man who made her his wife.

      Lady Dorothea and Kate Henderson were seated one morning engaged in the very important task of revising the invitation-book, – weeding out the names of departed acquaintance, and canvassing the claims of those who should succeed them. The rigid criticism as to eligibility showed how great an honor was the card for her Ladyship’s “Tea.” While they were thus occupied, Captain Martin entered the room with an open letter in his hand, his air and manner indicating flurry, if not actual agitation.

      “Sorry to interrupt a privy council,” said he, “but I’ve come to ask a favor, – don’t look frightened; it’s not for a woman, my Lady, – but I want a card for your next Saturday, for a male friend of mine.”

      “Kate has just been telling me that ‘our men’ are too numerous.”

      “Impossible. Miss Henderson knows better than any one that the success of these things depends on having a host of men, – all ages, all classes, all sorts of people,” said he, indolently.

      “I think we have complied with your theory,” said she, pointing to the book before her. “If our ladies are chosen for their real qualities, the men have been accepted with a most generous forbearance.”

      “One more, then, will not damage the mixture.”

      “Of course, Captain Martin, it is quite sufficient that he is a friend of yours – that you wish it – ”

      “But it is no such thing, Miss Henderson,” broke in Lady Dorothea. “We have already given deep umbrage in many quarters – very high quarters, too – by refusals; and a single mistake would be fatal to us.”

      “But why need this be a mistake?” cried Captain Martin, peevishly. “The man is an acquaintance of mine, – a friend, if you like to call him so.”

      “And who is he?” asked my Lady, with all the solemnity of a judge.

      “A person I met at the Cape. We travelled home together – saw a great deal of each other – in fact – I know him as intimately as I do – any officer in my regiment,” said the Captain, blundering and faltering at every second word.

      “Oh! then he is one of your own corps?” said her Ladyship.

      “I never said so,” broke he in. “If he had been, I don’t fancy I should need to employ much solicitation in his behalf; the – they are not usually treated in that fashion!”

      “I trust we should know how to recognize their merits,” said Kate, with a look which sorely puzzled him whether it meant conciliation or raillery.

      “And his name?” asked my Lady. “His name ought to be decisive, without anything more!”

      “He’s quite a stranger here, knows nobody, so that you incur no risk as to any impertinent inquiries, and when he leaves this, to-morrow or next day, you ‘ll never see him again.” This the Captain said with all the confusion of an inexpert man in a weak cause.

      “Shall I address his card, or will you take it yourself, Captain Martin?” said Kate, in a low voice.

      “Write Merl, – Mr. Herman Merl,” said he, dropping his own voice to the same tone.

      “Merl!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea, whose quick hearing detected the words. “Why, where on earth could you have made acquaintance with a man called Merl?”

      “I have told you already where and how we met; and if it be any satisfaction to you to know that I am under considerable obligations – heavy obligations – to this same gentleman, perhaps it might incline you to show him some mark of attention.”

      “You could have him to dinner at your Club, – you might even bring him here, when we’re alone, Harry; but really, to receive him at one of our Evenings! You know how curious people are, what questions they will ask: – ‘Who is that queer-looking man?’ – I ‘m certain he is so. – ‘Is he English?’ – ‘Who does he belong to?’ – ‘Does he know any one?’”

      “Let them ask me, then,” said Martin, “and I may, perhaps, be able to satisfy them.” At the same moment he took up from the table the card which Kate had just written, giving her a look of grateful recognition as he did so.

      “You ‘ve done this at your own peril, Miss Henderson,” said Lady Dorothea, half upbraidingly.

      “At mine, be it rather,” said the Captain, sternly.

      “I accept my share of it willingly,” said Kate, with a glance which brought a deep flush over the hussar’s cheek, and sent through him a strange thrill of pleasure.

      “Then I am to suppose we shall be honored with your own presence on this occasion, – rare favor that it is,” said her Ladyship.

      “Yes, I ‘ll look in. I promised Merl to present him.”

      “Oh, you need n’t!” said she, peevishly. “Half the men merely make their bow when they meet me, and neither expect me to remember who they are or to notice them. I may leave your distinguished friend in the same category.”

      A quick glance from Kate – fleeting, but full of meaning – stopped Martin as he was about to make a hasty reply. And, crumpling up the card with suppressed passion, he turned and left the room.

      “Don’t put that odious name on our list, Miss Henderson,” said Lady Dorothea; “we shall never have him again.”

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