Annie Haynes Premium Collection – 8 Murder Mysteries in One Volume. Annie Haynes

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СКАЧАТЬ cold hands in his firm warm clasp now, gathering courage from the fact that they were not withdrawn—nay, he fancied that the small fingers were clinging to his. "What is it that you wish I had done sooner?"

      "Told me—this," said Peggy with a sob. "Why didn't you, Stephen? Why did you let me—"

      Stephen's face was very grave as his eyes rested on the drooping head, on the soft lips that were quivering childishly.

      "It seemed to me that I had no right to speak to you sooner, Peggy; no right to bind your bright youth to me, until you had seen something of the world, until you could make your choice with your eyes open. I cannot see, even now, how I could have done otherwise."

      "Don't you? No! Perhaps you couldn't!" Peggy said weakly. "But oh, Stephen, if you had—"

      "Would it have made any difference, Peggy?" Stephen asked her softly.

      "Why, of course it would," she cried, catching her breath, big tears standing in her eyes. "Of course it would, I should have known then—"

      "You would have known then that I loved you," Stephen finished. "Ah, yes, but don't you understand, if your choice fell on any other man, I didn't want you to know it, Peggy. I wanted to keep your friendship."

      "That wasn't what I meant at all," Peggy said in a very shaky voice. Her face was averted now, and Stephen could not see how her lips were trembling, nor the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. "I meant that I should have known, when he came—Lord Chesterham—that it was no use—that no one could ever take my old friend's place with me."

      "Peggy!" Stephen came a little nearer, he stooped till his dark head was very near her brown hair. "Does this mean that—that you cared—that you can care—for me?"

      "Oh, I believe I have cared all my life," Peggy cried, the tears bursting forth in real earnest now. "Oh, if I had only known, Stephen; if I had only known. It is too late now!"

      "Why is it too late?" Stephen asked softly, his right hand still holding both of hers, his left arm crept round her waist and encircled it. "Why is it too late, Peggy?"

      "Because—because—oh, I couldn't," the girl sobbed incoherently. "Do you know that they point at me everywhere, Stephen? In London, quite a little crowd collected once to see me come out of the house. Abroad it is just the same. As soon as any English people hear my name, they tell one another that I am the girl who was engaged to the false Lord Chesterham—the man who would have been—hanged—if he had lived. And even here, in Carew, where the people have known me all my life, they stare at me. They wonder how I take things; they let me see that they never forget!"

      "Brutes!" Stephen ejaculated beneath his breath. "All the more reason you should let me take care of you, Peggy. When you are Mrs. Crasster of Talgarth they will forget all about it, and so will you."

      "Never, never!" the girl said passionately. "I couldn't, Stephen!"

      "Not if I tried to make you?" Stephen said quietly. He drew her nearer, gathering comfort from the fact that she did not repulse him. "I will try very, very hard, Peggy. Tell me you will let me."

      "I don't know why you should want to," Peggy said quaintly, "but—"

      "But you will," Stephen said triumphantly. "Oh, Peggy, my little wilful rosebud. How often I have dreamt of this day! Tell me it is really true, that you care for me a little."

      Peggy's small face was hidden against his coat sleeve.

      "Not a little," she said shyly. "A—a great deal, Stephen."

      That all happened quite a long time ago now. For Peggy has been mistress of Talgarth for more than four years, and people have almost forgotten that she was once engaged to the false Lord Chesterham. The impostor himself is seldom spoken of either; old Betty Lee is dead, her son Hiram has left the neighbourhood, and the new Lord Chesterham, a distant cousin of the last peer, is a middle-aged man with a large growing up family of sons and daughters, who keep the neighbourhood lively with their doings, and leave little time for the delving into past history.

      There are children too at Talgarth, as well as at Heron's Carew. Peggy has two boys—big sturdy fellows with their father's length of limb and broad brows and their mother's fair complexion. Love for them, and for their father, has driven the shadows from Peggy's eyes, has brought back the smiles to her lips. She leads a very busy life too—little Mrs. Crasster of Talgarth—for Stephen was too much attached to his profession to give it up. He has made great strides in it of late; rumour has it that he will be the next new judge, and this necessitates a good deal of time being spent in London. Peggy enjoys that part of her life thoroughly, and she makes a sweet little hostess, but she is never really as happy anywhere as at Talgarth with her children and her flowers, in the home she loves.

      Up at Heron's Carew Paul is growing into a tall manly fellow, whom his father is already talking of sending to school, and there is another baby boy, a year old in the nursery, and a little girl a couple of years older, who is her mother's very image, and the joy of her father's heart.

      Unlike the Crassters, Sir Anthony and Lady Carew spend most of their time in the country. Sir Anthony, like most men, is happiest there, occupied with his hunting, and his shooting and looking after his property, while the very mention of London to Lady Carew always seems to bring back the memory of that bygone tragedy that once threatened to wreck their lives.

      Echoes from the past reach them sometimes when Mrs. Rankin and her daughter pay them a visit, or when a keen looking man with a stubby sandy beard, who is a great friend of Paul's, comes to spend a brief holiday at the Carew Arms. Occasionally, too, the society papers chronicle the doings of a certain Princess Zeuridoff who was, before her second marriage, Lady Palmer.

      The Princess has made several tentative efforts of late to renew her friendship with the Carews, and professes herself grieved that her overtures have met with no response. She shrugs her shoulders sometimes, and asks, "What can you expect from the mad Carews?"

      Sir Anthony and Lady Carew, however, reck little of her displeasure. Their mutual love, strengthened and purified by the trials they have undergone, their affection for their children, their care for their dependents and their poorer neighbours round their beautiful things make up the happiness of their lives, and they have little time to spare for outside interests.

      Judith is adored by the poor folk in all the country-side. Sir Anthony is her willing helper in all her schemes for the good of others, and people, in general, have almost forgotten, seeing him so transformed by his wife's gentle influence, that he was ever spoken of as one of the mad Carews of Heron's Carew.

      The Blue Diamond

       Table of Contents

       Chapter I

       Chapter II

       Chapter III

       Chapter IV

       Chapter СКАЧАТЬ