The Spider and the Fly. Garvice Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ I will remind you that you are heir to the estate, and that it is in your power to clear it of the encumbrances."

      "In mine!" exclaimed Lord Fitz.

      "Exactly," said the earl. "By a judicious marriage. You must marry an heiress, Fitz. There are a number of them to be met with; and a great many are extremely anxious to purchase position with their money. I speak plainly because the matter is too serious for mere insinuation. You must marry well, and – ahem – so, of course, must your sister."

      He glanced at the timepiece significantly.

      The young lad rose at the hint and took up his hat.

      "I won't detain you any longer, sir," he said. "I am very much obliged for – for the money, and, of course, I'm very sorry to hear such a bad account of the estate."

      "Exactly," said the earl, with a cold smile, looking out of the window. "You are riding that bay, I see, and I trust you will take care of it. I had to pay a heavy bill for the mare whose knees you cut last month. Let me beg of you to be careful with the bay."

      "Certainly, sir," said Lord Boisdale, and with a very uncomfortable air he left the room.

      As he passed into the corridor a sweet, clear voice rose from the hall.

      "Fitz, are you coming?"

      Fitz smothered a sigh, and as cheerfully as he could, replied:

      "All right; here I am," and ran down the stairs.

      In the hall stood Lady Ethel Boisdale.

      "How long you have been!" she said, with a smile. "Are you not ashamed to keep a lady waiting? Well, I think brothers imagine they are privileged to take advantage of a sister."

      As she spoke her eyes noted the disappointment and embarrassment on his countenance, and when they were mounted and turning out of the square she said:

      "What is the matter, Fitz? Will not papa give you the money?"

      "No," said Fitz, with an uncomfortable laugh, "no; and supplies an excellent reason for not complying with my modest request. Oh, dear me, I'm very miserable. There! don't ask me what about, because I shan't tell you. It would only worry you, and you're too good a fellow – I mean girl – to be worried. Let's put these lazy animals into something sharper; I hate this square and those streets."

      Lady Ethel touched her horse gently, and in silence they cantered into the Park.

      "Look," said Ethel, presently, "who is that lifting his hat?"

      "Eh? where?" said Lord Fitz. "Oh, it's Bertie Fairfax and Leicester Dodson – capital fellow, Bertie. Let's pull up a minute, Ethel."

      And with a smile of welcome he steered his horse near the rails, upon which the two gentlemen who had raised their hats were leaning.

      One of them, Leicester Dodson, we know, the other was a tall, splendidly built fellow, with a frank, genial face, and a noble yet peculiarly free and graceful bearing.

      "Hello, Bertie! Good-morning, Mr. Dodson. Delighted to see you. Ethel, you will let me introduce my friends, Mr. Dodson, Mr. Bertie Fairfax. Bertie, Mr. Dodson, this is my sister, Lady Ethel Boisdale."

      Both the gentlemen raised their hats; Lady Ethel bent her beautiful head with her rare smile.

      She always liked to know any friends of her brother whom he chose to introduce, for with all his simplicity he was too wise to fall into the mistake of showing her any but the most unexceptionable of them.

      Bertie Fairfax looked up at the lady and then at the horse. He was a connoisseur of both.

      "It is a beautiful day," he said, opening the conversation with the usual weatherwise remark. "Your horse looks as if he enjoyed it."

      "Which he does," said Ethel. "I am sure I do. It is delightful – walking or riding."

      "I should prefer the latter," said Bertie Fairfax, "but my horse is lamed temporarily and I am compelled to pedestrianize."

      "What a pity," said Ethel, adding, with her sweet smile, "Perhaps the change will be good for you."

      Bertie Fairfax looked up at her with his frank eyes to see if she was quizzing him, then laughed musically.

      "Perhaps he thought so and tumbled down on purpose. It doesn't much matter – I like walking, but not here; I like more room. My friend, Mr. Dodson, however, insisted upon this promenade. He is an observer of human nature – a cynic, I regret to say – and finds material for bitter and scornful reflection in the gay and thoughtless crowd. Are you going to Lady Darefield's ball to-night?"

      "Yes," said Ethel. "I presume you, also, by your question, are going?"

      "Yes," said Bertie Fairfax, "I am glad to say."

      Five minutes before he had sworn to Mr. Leicester Dodson that he wouldn't go to my Lady Darefield's ball for five hundred pounds, and five hundreds pounds were of some consequence to Mr. Bertie Fairfax.

      "It is very hot for balls, but one must do his duty. I hope I may be able to persuade you to give me a dance?"

      "I don't know," said Ethel, with a smile.

      At that moment her horse walked on a little. Mr. Fairfax moved farther up the rail, and then conversation, no more confidential than that we have already given, continued until Lord Fitz was heard to exclaim "Good-by," and then joined his sister.

      Both the gentlemen on foot raised their hats, Bertie Fairfax with his cordial, pleasant smile, Leicester Dodson with his grave and also pleasant grace, and after a return of the salutations the four young people parted.

      "Well," said Lord Fitz, from whose mind the recent meeting had expunged the unpleasant remembrances of his morning interview, "what do you think of them?"

      Ethel was silent for a moment.

      "I don't know which was the handsomer," she said, thoughtfully.

      "That's just like you women, Eth; you always think of the graces first."

      "Well," said Ethel, "there was no time to know anything more about them. I think Mr. Fairfax is very pleasant – he has a nice voice and such frank eyes. There are some men with whom you feel friendly in the first ten minutes; he is one of them."

      "You're right," said Lord Fitz. "Bertie's the jolliest and dearest old fellow going. Poor old Bert!"

      "Why poor?" said Ethel.

      "Because he is poor, deuced poor," said Lord Fitz, muttering under his breath, with a sigh, "Like some more of us."

      "How do you mean?" said Ethel.

      "Well," said Lord Fitz, "he has to work for his living. He's a barrister or something of that sort. But he writes and draws things for books, you know. I don't quite understand. He can sing like a nightingale and tell a story better than any man I know."

      "He looks very happy," said Ethel, "although he is poor."

      "Happy!" said Lord Fitz. "He's always happy. He's the best company going."

      "And who is his friend? Mr. Dodson, is not his name?" asked Ethel.

      "Yes, СКАЧАТЬ