The Spider and the Fly. Garvice Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ with his legs extended before him, watching Bertie engaged on some article or poem or drawing, and, as he watched, would almost wish that he also had to work for his living.

      So Mr. Leicester was somewhat of a philosopher and a cynic, as Bertie had said, and at times found life rather wearisome.

      To-night he drew himself a chair – Bertie was extended upon an ancient, but comfortable, sofa, and, lighting a fresh cigar, rang for claret and ice.

      "Dreadfully hot, Bert. What on earth makes us hang about this horrible town, in this terrible weather? Fancy staying in London when all the green fields are holding out their hands and shouting, 'Come, and roll on us'! Fashion is a wonderful thing – so are you. Why on earth don't you speak? I never knew you so silent for so many minutes together, in my life. Are you asleep?"

      "No," said Bertie. "Push the claret across the table with the poker, will you? When did you say you were going down to the Cedars, Les?"

      "When you like," said Leicester Dodson, coloring slightly and turning his face away from his companion. "To-morrow, if you like; I was going to say I wish I'd never left it, but I came up this week because – "

      "Because what?" asked Bertie, as he stopped.

      "Because," said Leicester Dodson, looking hard at the fire, in his grave, sedate way, "discretion is the better part of valor."

      "What on earth do you mean?" exclaimed Bertie Fairfax. "You never mean to tell me you were afraid of a man?"

      "No," said Leicester, with his cynical smile; "of a woman. There, don't ask me any more. I am not going to make a fool of myself, Bert, but while we're on the subject, I'll say that it would never do for either of us to do that."

      "No," said Bertie Fairfax, with an unusual bitterness. "We can never marry, Les. You, because you are too – "

      "Selfish," interrupted Mr. Dodson, placidly.

      "And I, because I am too poor – "

      "You will be rich enough some day, you clever dog," said Mr. Dodson, sententiously.

      "Yes, when I'm an old man, gray-headed and bent double. Never mind."

      "I won't. Don't you, either," said Leicester; "and now for the Cedars. Suppose we say the end of the week?"

      "Yes, that will do," said Bertie. "The Lacklands – at least, some of them – are going down to Coombe Lodge next week."

      "Oh," said Leicester, significantly, glancing at the frank, pleasant face of his friend.

      "Yes," retorted Bertie, "and the Mildmays are still at the Park, I suppose?"

      "Yes," said Leicester, shrugging his shoulders with an air of indifference he was far from feeling. "So that we shall be all together – like moths round a candle," he added, cynically, as Bertie rose, with a yawn, to mount to his own chambers.

      Yes, all together, and near the meshes of that web which a skillful, cunning spider was weaving for them.

      Captain Murpoint had laid his delicate web ready for his flies.

      CHAPTER VI

      "LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG."

      Captain Howard Murpoint had not exaggerated his powers of pleasing when making that important communication and revelation to his accomplice, Jem, under the Portland cliffs.

      He had not been in possession of the marvelously comfortable suite of rooms at Mildmay Park many days before young and old, mistress and servants, were ready to pronounce the captain a most agreeable man, and his servant, Jem, a most amusing and obliging fellow.

      The morning after his arrival the captain came down to breakfast elegantly attired in a loose velvet shooting-coat, which set off his strong, well-made figure to advantage.

      His smooth face was set with a pleasant smile, and his voice was toned to a half-affectionate interest as he shook hands with Mrs. Mildmay.

      "I hope you slept well, Captain Murpoint?" she murmured.

      The captain declared that he had never slept better, and that his quarters were all that could be wished.

      "Violet is not down yet," said Mrs. Mildmay. "She is late, but we were rather later than usual last night, and, I dare say, the excitement of your arrival made her feel tired. Ah, there she is."

      And Violet entered at the moment, and came up to give her aunt the morning kiss.

      Then she turned to the captain, and once again his bold, watchful eyes shrank for a moment before the clear, calm gaze of her pure ones.

      His salutation was a finished piece of acting, so reverential, so paternally affectionate, and so respectful.

      Violet shook hands with him, and tripped to her seat.

      "And did the ghosts annoy you?" she asked, as the captain spoke of his night's rest.

      "No; they were considerate to their guest. Perhaps when we are more familiar they may be more troublesome. You have had a good night's sleep, 'tis evident," he continued, glancing admiringly at her fair, fresh, blooming face.

      "I always sleep well," said Violet, simply. "Neither ghosts nor indigestion disturb me."

      "I thought perhaps that our little party had tired you, my dear," said Mrs. Mildmay.

      "No, aunt," replied Violet. "It was a very pleasant one," she added, musingly.

      "Very, the pleasantest I have participated in for some time," said the captain, with some truth. "I must congratulate you upon having some really agreeable neighbors. The vicar was a most delightful man, and Mr. and Mrs. Giles are most amiable."

      "And what did you think of the Dodsons?" asked Mrs. Mildmay, with a half sigh.

      "Most agreeable people," replied the captain. "So original and unaffected. The young fellow pleased me exceedingly," and he glanced at Violet, under his dark brows.

      "They are quite new friends – acquaintances," said Mrs. Mildmay. "Last night was the first time we have had the pleasure of their company.

      "Indeed!" said the captain, with interest. "Newcomers, I suppose?"

      "No; they have been here some time," answered Mrs. Mildmay. "They live in the large, red house, the Cedars; perhaps you did not notice it? You can see it from the dining-room windows. They are friends of Violet's making and – and though very agreeable people, still – "

      "Still, they are – tallow chandlers," put in Violet, wickedly, "and aunt cannot forgive them."

      Captain Murpoint smiled a peculiar smile of conciliation for both the ladies.

      "Tallow chandlers," he said, "can be very agreeable people; but I understand your aunt's prejudice, my dear Miss Mildmay – "

      "And I cannot," said Violet, with quiet gravity. "My father," and her voice lowered softly, "must have bought tallow when he traded with Russia, as I have heard, and I cannot see much difference between buying it in the first instance and melting it in the second."

      "There is a difference," said the captain, softly. "But, putting the question aside, I thought the Dodsons extremely СКАЧАТЬ