Wild Margaret. Garvice Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ I suppose we can't hit it off; we don't care for each other."

      The earl frowned.

      "I have every reason to believe that Violet would be willing – "

      "Oh, it's all a mistake, sir!" broke in Lord Blair quickly. "Nothing of the kind! Violet doesn't care a straw for me! And as to breaking her heart, as you said this afternoon, why" – he laughed – "she's the last girl in the world for that sort of thing! No, we thought we could manage it, but we found pretty soon that it wouldn't work, and so – and so – well, we just broke it off!"

      "I can understand!" said the earl, grimly. "You wearied her with your dissipation, and stung her by your neglect."

      Lord Blair flushed.

      "Put it so, if you like, sir," he said, thinking what a good thing it was that they did not see much of each other.

      "And so lost the chance of restoring your ruined fortunes," said the earl. "Violet's fortune is a large one. I am one of the trustees, and can speak with authority. It is large enough to repair all the mischief your wild, spendthrift course has produced. And you have lost, not only the means of your salvation, but one of the best girls in England. Great Heaven" – he spoke quite quietly – "how can a man be so great a fool, and so blind!"

      At another time the young man might have retorted, but he had had a good dinner and two glasses of the wonderful port, and so he only laughed.

      "I suppose I am a fool, sir," he said good-temperedly. "Perhaps it's part of my constitution. But don't let us quarrel. It isn't worth while."

      "You are right. It isn't worth while," said the earl, sinking back in his chair. "After all, I ought to be thankful that Violet has escaped; but blood is thicker than – water and I have thought of you more than of her. But let it pass. You are bent on following the road you have set out upon, and not even she nor I can stay you. As to Ketton, you refuse to accept my offer – "

      "Yes, sir," said Lord Blair, gently but firmly. "I shall mortgage Ketton. I can't take any more money from you. If we were – well, better friends, it would be different, but – It's a pity you can't touch this port! The best wine I ever tasted!"

      The earl sat in silence for a few minutes, then he rose.

      "Coffee will be served in the drawing-room," he said. "You will excuse me?"

      "Oh, certainly," said Lord Blair, jumping up. "I don't care about the coffee, I will go and get a cigar on the terrace. Perhaps I sha'n't see you again, sir, I start early in the morning. If I should not, I'll say good-bye," and he held out his hand.

      The earl touched it with his thin white fingers.

      "Good-bye," he said, and with a sigh he passed down the corridor to his own apartments.

      Lord Blair took out his cigar-case and stepped through the open window on to the terrace.

      "Yes, I'm on the road to ruin, as mine uncle says," he mused, "and going along at a rattling good pace, too! Sha'n't be long before I reach the terminus, I expect. Hartwell gone, Parkfield gone, and now Ketton. I'm sorry about Ketton! But I'd rather pawn everything that's left than take any more money from him! Heigho! I wonder whether any of the fellows who are so thick now will cut me when I can't come up on settling day and my name's on the black list! And I could put it all right by marrying Violet Graham. Just by marrying Violet. But I can't do that. I suppose I am a fool, as the old gentleman politely remarked. It's wonderful that I'm the only man he is ever rude to. They say he is the pink of courtesy and politeness to the rest of the world. 'Courtly Ferrers,' they used to call him. Ah, well, what does it matter? All the same in a hundred years. I've had my fling, or nearly had it, and after me – "

      Before he could conclude with "the deluge," a girl's voice rose softly and sweetly in the distance, and seemed to float in and harmonize with the rather melancholy strain of his musings; and yet the voice was blithe and joyous enough, too.

      Lord Blair leaned over the stone rail of the balustrade and listened.

      A spell fell upon the wild young man, and for a few minutes a strange feeling – was it of remorse for his wasted life? – possessed him. Then there rose the desire to see the singer, and as such desires were far stronger in Lord Blair's breast than remorse, he moved quickly along the terrace in the direction of the voice.

      It did not occur to him that it might be Margaret Hale, and he experienced a sudden thrill of gratification as he saw the dove-colored dress shining, a soft patch of light against the shrubbery of the small garden.

      At the same moment Margaret saw his shadow cast upon the smooth lawn, and the song died on her lips.

      He stopped short, and stood on top of the steps leading to the little garden, looking down at her.

      "May I come?" he said quietly.

      Margaret inclined her head gravely and rose. It was quite unnecessary to tell the Viscount Leyton that he was at liberty to step into a part of the garden that would belong to him some day.

      "I'm awfully unlucky, Miss Hale," he said, flinging his cigar away and coming up to the seat where she had been sitting. "This is the second time to-day I have disturbed you; and yesterday – oh, yesterday won't bear thinking of! You were singing, weren't you?"

      "Yes, my lord," said Margaret gravely, for her grandmother's words had suddenly occurred to her, and she moved away.

      "Are you going?" he said. "Now, I have driven you away! Please, don't go. I'll take myself off at once."

      "I was going, my lord," said Margaret.

      "Oh, come," he retorted pleadingly; "it's almost as wicked to tell stories as it is to fight; and you know you were sitting here comfortably enough until I intruded upon you."

      His voice, his manner were irresistible, and produced a smile on Margaret's face.

      "It is getting late," she said, "and Mrs. Hale may want me."

      "I don't think she will. It isn't late – " he looked at his watch – "I can't see. Your eyes are better than mine, I'll be bound. I've spoilt them sitting up studying at night. Will you look? But upon this condition," he added, covering the face of the watch with his hand, "that if it isn't ten o'clock, you will stay a little while longer; of course I'll go – if you want me to!"

      His eagerness was so palpable, almost so boyish, that Margaret could not repress a soft laugh. Rather gingerly she came back a step, and he held out his watch.

      "It is half-past nine," she said.

      "There you are, you see; it isn't late at all! Now you stop out till ten, and I'll take myself off" – and with a nod he walked toward the steps, with Margaret's antimacassar shawl in his hand.

      "My lord!" she said, in a tone of annoyance, for it seemed as if he had done it on purpose.

      "Yes," he responded, turning back very promptly.

      "Will you give me my anti – my shawl, please?"

      "Eh? Oh, of course, I beg your pardon," he said, "I took it up intending to ask you to put it on – nights are chilly sometimes. Here you are. Let me put it on for you."

      "No, no, thank you," said Margaret, taking it from him.

      "Well, it is СКАЧАТЬ