A Changed Heart. May Agnes Fleming

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СКАЧАТЬ seen the flush his face wore. Perhaps it was the sea-breeze, though; for it was blowing up fresh and bracing, and a host of stars spangled a sky of cloudless blue. The monotonous plash of the waves on the shore came dully booming over the rattle of their own carriage-wheels.

      "What are the wild waves saying? Miss Rose and I have a bond of sympathy between us: we both love the sea. I suppose," said Natty, going off into another subject, "Mrs. Leroy will read me a lecture for my long stay, when I get back."

      "Will she not be asleep?"

      "Asleep? No, indeed; I believe if I staid out for a week she would never close an eye until I got back."

      "Is she so very fond of you, then?"

      "It is not that; though I think she is as fond of me as it is in her nature to be of anything, except," with another laugh, "eating and money. It is fear that keeps her awake; she dreads being left alone."

      "Why? Not from an evil conscience, I trust."

      "For shame, sir. No, she always keeps a large sum of money in her chamber—you saw that queer cabinet—well, in that; and she is terribly scared of robbers, in spite of all our bolts and bars."

      "She should not keep it about her, then."

      "Very true; but she will. I sleep in the room next hers, and I presume she feels my presence there a sort of safeguard against burglars. In Midge she has no confidence whatever."

      "And yet I should consider Midge the greatest possible safeguard. The sight of her might scare away an army of robbers."

      "Now, now!" cried Natty. "I shall not have Midge abused. She is the most faithful and trustworthy creature that ever lived."

      "Perhaps so; but you will own that she is not the most lovely. When I was a boy at Eton, I used to read German legends of beautiful princesses guarded by malignant spirits, in uncouth human forms. I thought of the stories this morning when I was at Redmon."

      "That's a compliment, I suppose," said Natty, "but I don't relish compliments, I can tell you, at Midge's expense. Here we are at the cottage."

      "What cottage is it?" Captain Cavendish asked, forgetting suddenly that he had spent half an hour there that very morning.

      "The Nettlebys. The father is our gardener; the sons, the whole family, make themselves useful about the place, all but Cherrie, who is more for ornament than use. Here we are at Redmon, and there is the light burning in Mrs. Leroy's window."

      "Does it burn all night?" he asked, looking up at it.

      "No; it is a beacon for me. I must go to her room the first thing now, give an account of myself, and extinguish it. Good-night; I hope you will enjoy your solitary journey back."

      "I shall have pleasant thoughts of a lady fair to keep me company. Are you sure you can get in?"

      "Midge is opening the door now; once more, good-night."

      Waving her hand to him, she was gone while she spoke. Midge stood blinking in the doorway, holding a candle above her head, which tar-mop was now tied up in a red flannel petticoat.

      She shaded her eyes with her hand, peering out at the tall figure in the loose overcoat; and when she made sure of his identity, slamming the door to with a bang that left no doubt of her feelings toward him.

      "Midge, why did you do that?" Natty said, reprovingly.

      "Because I never want to see his wicked face here, Miss Natty; that's why!" cried Midge, shrilly; "and I don't want to see him with you, for he is a villain, and he will turn out one, if he was ten officers, ten times over."

      But Natty was flying up the polished stairs with a new happiness at her heart, singing as she went a snatch of "Love's Young Dream."

CHAPTER VII.

       Table of Contents

TOO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE.

       Table of Contents

      Mr. Val Blake was a young gentleman possessing a great many admirable virtues, among others the fearful one of always saying what he thought. Another, not quite so terrible to society, was that of early rising. The sun, whenever that luminary condescended to show its face in Speckport, which wasn't so very often, never found him in bed, either winter or summer. Val might be up until two o'clock in the office, as he sometimes was in busy seasons, such as election times, but that never prevented his rising at half-past four the next morning, as bright as a new penny.

      Val had escorted Miss Laura Blair home from his sister's little sociable—not only escorted her home, in fact, but had gone in with her. It was past eleven then, but Papa Blair had invited him to blow a friendly cloud, and Val had accepted the invitation. There they sat, smoking and talking politics until after one, and it was half-past when he got back to No. 16 Great St. Peter's Street; but for all that, here he was next morning at the hour of six, coming striding along the sea-shore, a pipe in his mouth, and a towel in his hand. Val had been taking a sea-bath, his invariable custom every fine morning, from the first of May to the last of October, to the alarming increase of his appetite for breakfast. There were few to be met on the sand, at that hour, except in the fishing seasons; and the fishermen not being in yet from the night's work, the shore was entirely deserted. The editor of the Speckport Gazette had not the shore all to himself after all; for, as he passed a jutting bowlder, he came in view of a fluttering figure walking slowly on before. The black dress waving in the breeze, the slender form in the long black mantle, the little straw hat, and the brown braid were familiar by this time.

      Miss Rose, the pretty little school-teacher, was taking an early constitutional as well as himself, with a book for her only companion. Val's long legs were beginning to measure off the sand in vast strides, to join her, when he was forestalled most unexpectedly. Starting up from behind a tall rock, in whose shadow on the warm sand he had been lying, his hat pulled over his eyes to protect him from the sun, a gentleman came forward, lifted his hat, and accosted her. Val knew the gentleman quite as well as he did the lady, and stopped. At the sound of his voice coming so suddenly, she had recoiled with a suppressed cry, but at sight of whom it was, she stood perfectly still, as if transfixed.

      There was a path up the hillside—the very path Captain Cavendish had been shown by the young Nettlebys the day before. Val turned up this, with his hands in his pockets, and his mind in a state of soliloquy.

      "I'm not wanted, I expect; so I'll keep clear! There's something queer about this—they were both taken aback last night, were they not? She's a pretty little thing, and he's been in Montreal, I know; was quartered there before he was ordered to Halifax. I suppose it's the old story—he always was a flirt, and his handsome face sets the girls loony wherever he goes. Miss Rose looks sensible, but I dare say she's as bad as the rest."

      Val's suspicions might have become certainty had he been listening to the conversation of the young officer and the little school-teacher; but there was no one to listen, except the waves and the wind, and the seagulls clanging over their heads.

      "Winnie!" Captain Cavendish was hurriedly saying, "I knew you would be here, and I have been waiting for СКАЧАТЬ