Chapter VII: Part 7

"'Well, perhaps I'm not quite so naturally truthful as you are, dear,' she said. 'I do not like her myself, but why should we show it? It's so nice to be liked; and you never know when it may be to your advantage to make a friend, and I'm sure it is never any good to make an enemy. She might set some one against me whom I might really like. Besides, the truth is this--I cannot help it. Whenever I see a person, male or female, young or old, a distinct inclination comes over me to purr. I want them to take notice of me, and stroke my back; so if they do not start at once I'm obliged to rub softly against their feet, and let them know I require a caress. I read a book once about the transmigration of souls, or something of that kind, which said that people have been animals once. It's rather a funny idea! I like to fancy what each person has passed through in a previous existence. I think I must have died an untimely death as a kitten, and have to work out the rest of the purring stage here.'

"'What do you think I looked like in the last stage?' I asked.

"'Oh, I think you were a fawn, and it is that which makes you shun that old spotted leopardess, so that you feel inclined to retire into the next cover, you poor little timid thing, hiding away even from your husband!'

"'Why, you don't think I'm afraid of him,' I asked, 'do you?'

"'Well, how can I tell? If I had a husband I rather fancy I should be wanting to have him handy. Wouldn't I just make him wild about me! Of course I know how you feel, and the way he has acted. No doubt you are quite right; but I should want to make him sorry that he couldn't take me in his arms; and shouldn't I just make him jealous! Look at your position. Don't I wish that I had your chances! He can't come unless you let him, so you can do as you please; ask a lot of nice people to the house, and enjoy yourself. I should flirt a little perhaps! It's wrong; but you know I don't set up to be good, and I'm certain it would be impossible for me to resist the temptation. Then I'd take care to let him know all about it. Yes, dear, that would be the way to punish him--drive him mad with jealousy! You may be quite certain that he manages to find out all about your doings, and I call it just pampering him the way you go on. He knows you're quite safe, no doubt. Mr. Sydney's gone to India; you are shut up with your father and your school-friend, while he is free to enjoy himself, and knows that one day he will be forgiven, and can well afford to wait.'

"'He is quite mistaken if he thinks that, I can tell you!' I answered rather angrily, being annoyed with the way she had put the case.

"'That may be,' she said, jumping up and giving me a kiss; 'but men are so conceited, dearest, and when he hears that you are moping here--they are sure to tell him you are moping, because women are always supposed to mope in the eyes of the male sex when deprived of their company--he'll believe it. Besides, think what people will say--that your husband was tired of you in less than a week, and that you are waiting here in solitude till he sees well to return. No, if I were you, he and the world should see that you don't want him, and that there are plenty of people dying to fall in love with you. Men never care for what they can have--at least, so it's said. But if you leave the thing to me, I'll answer for it we will bring him as a beggar to these gates before many months are over, and he will cry to be let in on any terms!'

"'But I won't have him on any terms,' I said. 'Nothing would induce me to live with him.'

"'Oh! that doesn't matter at all,' she replied, 'so long as we bring him to the door. There is no fun shutting the portal to one who thinks the place not worth an assault. People never believe in the old maid's desire for celibacy, unless she produces her proposals. That is why I intend to make all my lovers propose by letter; then when I'm an old maid, I shall have them framed and hung round the room, with photographs of the best-looking, and incomes of the wealthiest underneath.'

"I have given this conversation rather fully, as it may help you to understand my friend's character, and also how the changes in our manner of life, of which I am going to tell you, came about; for this talk, and many on the same subject, no doubt influenced me more than I fancied at the time.

"I was bitterly angry with my husband, and the fact that he had made no sign of wishing to see me aggravated the feeling. I heard from my father that he had returned, and pictured him enjoying his life in town. The idea that he imagined that I was quietly waiting his coming, was unbearable, and after a little opposition, I eventually adopted the plan which Amy suggested.

"Somerville is about five miles from the Cathedral City of L----. It is a gay little place, owing chiefly to the barracks, which are situated about a mile on our side of the town. The large number of officers quartered there at this time favoured our plan.

"I left all the arrangements to Amy; her brain was better fitted for the work, and she wasted no time in setting about her task. She persuaded my father it was absolutely necessary for his health, that he should have some congenial company to assist him with the port, and to cheer him up during his smoke. She showed such pity for his lonely state that, one evening when I happened to come into the room rather suddenly I found her kneeling at his side, and if I am not mistaken, she was even allowing him to give her a fatherly kiss. I don't remember feeling envious, but it vexed me, and she evidently noticed that I was annoyed, for before we parted that night, she said--

"'Your poor old father seemed so overcome when I spoke of his lonely evenings, that I could not help showing a little sympathy; but I think I've worked it all right. At first he said that he wanted no change--that he was contented in his present position. That was just when you came in. But when you left us alone together again, I tried another plan. I can see he does not like the idea of Lord Vancome coming back here, so I pointed out that if you were deprived of all society you would perhaps get tired of this kind of life, and want to change it. He then questioned me about you, and I incidentally mentioned that you had recently complained of never seeing any one, and that you had spoken on more than one occasion of your husband. That roused him. 'She must have society,' he said, 'you're quite right, my dear. I will see to it. I will ask one or two of the young fellows over from the barracks. There is Captain Frint, and Major Jackson, both capital fellows. I've played whist with them once or twice at the Conservative Club in L----.'

"I told her that she was a bad girl, and that she had no right to have spoken about me in that way; but she only laughed and kissed me, saying I was a sweet, pretty little innocent, who would turn the heads of fifty captains. Then she tripped off to her room, humming to herself--

'Where are you going, my pretty maid?'

"I fell asleep trying to answer the question.

"My father kept his word. The next morning he said that if I had no objection he was going to invite some friends over to dine, so that he might have a little whist in the evening. On the following Thursday evening they came: Colonel Collins, Major Jackson, and Captain Frint.

"As soon as Amy and I were alone together in the drawing-room, I asked her what she thought of the selection.

"'A 1,' she replied. 'The old Colonel seems a dull old boy, but Captain Frint will do for you splendidly as a start, while the Major shall be taken in hand by your humble servant. He looks a bit dangerous; it will be safer, therefore, if I take the risk, as should he be troublesome, it is easier for me to slip out of his clutches, but as you live here it might be awkward. Does the plan suit you?'

"'I don't know that I quite understand what you mean,' I replied; 'but I certainly prefer Captain Frint to the Major, and as for the old Colonel, he is quite impossible; he wouldn't make a bridegroom of eighty jealous!'

"Thus in comparative innocence we set the ball rolling, which was to carry both of us to the very border of destruction.

"The whist party did not come off that evening. Through the influence of the younger men, it was turned into a card-game which could include six. We played for money, and though the stakes were low I was rather uncomfortable about Amy, as I knew she could ill afford to lose even a small sum. Fortune, however, favoured her, and she rose from the table two or three pounds richer for the night's play; while, chiefly owing to my ignorance of the game, and a certain recklessness, I was a considerable loser.

"It was a bright moonlight night, and as my father and the Colonel seemed anxious to continue playing cards, we left them to try their luck at piquet, allowing ourselves to be persuaded by the younger men to go out for a stroll. At first we kept close together, but Amy soon carried the Major off to show him some view of the waterfall, and I found myself alone with Captain Frint.

"We walked for some time in silence; my companion seemed absorbed in thought, and I took the opportunity of studying his face carefully. His skin, which was clear and pale, in this light looked unnaturally white. His features were well formed, and finely cut, while the intensity of shadow added to the effect, giving his face a statuesque coldness and nobility; his head was uncovered, and I noticed from the first, how well-shaped was its outline: his forehead, which was naturally broad, seemed even larger than it really was, as the hair had receded from the temples. The lower part of the face was disappointing, the jaw too small, the mouth and chin effeminate.

"I was thus taking stock of my companion, when he turned and our eyes met.

"'How rude you will think me, Lady Vancome!' he said; 'the scene here is so like fairyland, that for a few moments I forgot my own existence, though conscious of yours. I'm rather given to these fits of absent-mindedness, which are evidently caused by some defect of the brain, for if anything interests me, my faculties go to sleep. I was just wondering whether fancy was not the only reality, and science a very dull fairy tale, for when our companions disappeared round the corner, they left me in sole possession of the Garden of Eden.'

"'Had it not been for the inconvenient presence of Eve, whom you were doubtless trying to forget.' I said this thoughtlessly; then, seeing the trap in which I had so easily been caught, I felt a hot blush pass over me as I continued--'But don't let me disturb you, Captain Frint. I would on no account interrupt your pleasant dream, and will join the others.'

"'Don't go,' he said, putting out his hand as though to stop me. 'Eden without Eve was found too dull for Adam, and I should be deprived even of his occupation. There are no beasts here to name.'

"'You can let loose your inventive faculty,' I said, 'and when you have finished with the animals you can invent Eve. You see, as fancy is the only reality, there can be no difficulty in the matter.'

"'But even fancy,' he replied, 'requires inspiration, and if you leave me, its light will be extinguished. Don't you know that as it takes two to quarrel, it takes two for inspiration--the inspirer and the inspired? Even children don't care to play alone. Do you not sometimes find it dull in this lovely home of yours? But I forgot, you have a companion, and I should fancy a bright and lively one. I suppose, however, that your husband will soon be back now: I heard that he was suddenly called away to America shortly after your marriage. It must have been very annoying to both of you!'

"What could I say? It had never occurred to me before that sooner or later it would be necessary to explain things. It was quite evident that whether I did so or not, people would soon hear of my husband's return to England. It seemed therefore better to give my own version rather than allow some worse report to get about, so I answered--

"'I would rather not go into the matter, but perhaps I ought to say that my marriage was a mistake, and that I think it very improbable that you will ever see Lord Vancome here!'

"Captain Frint looked at me for a moment, evidently so taken aback that he was unable to speak. It was quite plain that no report of the scandal had hitherto reached him. Then his manner changed: the half flippant tone in which he had before spoken was no longer noticeable as he said--

"'I am very sorry indeed. I had no idea of your trouble, or of course should not have referred to the subject. I hope you will forgive me.'

"'There is nothing to forgive,' I said. 'You must have known some time, and now I shall feel more comfortable when we meet. But do not let others know what I have told you; for though it is sure to come out, there is no occasion to make one's private affairs public while it is possible to keep them quiet.'

"'You may trust me,' he answered; 'and I shall always consider it a favour to be allowed to help you at any time and in any way. You have, I know, your father, but there are occasions perhaps when a younger man might be of some service. In any case I hope you will look upon me as your friend.'

"As he was speaking I heard the sound of laughter, and Amy called out to know where we were hiding. When she and her companion came up, she assured us that they had been looking all over the place to find us, which, considering that we had never moved from the terrace, seemed rather ridiculous.

"As I was never fond of sleeping alone, I had recently persuaded Amy to share my room, and this gave us extra time for conversation. As soon as the maid had left us on this eventful evening, I asked Amy what she thought of the first result of her scheme.

"'Capital!' she replied, 'things could not be moving better. Your father has a companion who suits him, so have I, and from what I could see you appear to be getting on fairly well.'

"When I told her what had passed, she laughed, saying that I was a born flirt with all my seeming artlessness, and that to arrive at the Adam and Eve stage the first evening was fairly good; but to end in private confidence about my relations with my husband was even better.

"I asked her how she got on with the Major, saying that she seemed pretty merry on her return.

"'Oh! he's just delightful!' she replied, 'but such a humbug! He tried to talk in epigrams, but as he is not over good at it, and endeavours to make them complimentary, the result was ludicrous. This is the kind of thing, you know.' And she mimicked his voice and rather affected drawl. 'Nature is only natural when cultivated, and in your presence I feel that woman is only cultivated when natural.--As a girl puts on reserve she drops refinement.--The sound of gentle laughter is a sign of gentle breeding; the suggestion of prudery the seal of plutocracy; the coyness of the lips shows a canker in the life.' When he got to this point I thought it best to turn back. On our return journey he perpetrated the following atrocity--'Two minus two is represented by the circle of eternal content: two plus two by a right angle which some unkindly fate has crossed.'

"'The great advantage of this kind of conversation is that you never have any occasion to understand it unless you like; the worst of the habit that it sometimes tempts the man to risk a remark which he dare not produce without its swaddling-bands. He must exhaust his brain terribly with the effort, and no doubt this is the reason that those who go in for this kind of affectation often seem so terribly stupid.'"

*CHAPTER XI*

"During the following month we made many new acquaintances, but the Major and Captain Frint were by far our most frequent visitors. Either Amy got over her dislike to epigrams, or her companion, on becoming more familiar with her, dropped the affectation, for they seemed fast friends.

"Captain Frint, on the other hand, while seeming anxious to be with me, was strangely reserved, and the restraint which he obviously kept over his feelings piqued and irritated me. Whatever women may say to the contrary, I fancy that they seldom like a man to show that he is able to keep his admiration too completely under control. It tends rather to awaken a distrust in the force of attraction, and we would rather that he at times forgot himself sufficiently to enable us to rebuke and chastise him.

"From what I could gather, Amy had nothing to complain of in this respect from her admirer; in fact she told me that there was some difficulty in keeping him within reasonable bounds. Her kitten-like nature probably encouraged him to show more familiarity than he might otherwise have thought prudent. As he was very wealthy I could not help wishing that Amy's attractions might prove strong enough to lead to a proposal before very long; and this scheme of mine seemed sufficient justification for the encouragement of intimacy between them.

"In following out this plan it was of course necessary that I should be thrown more often in the company of his friend than otherwise might have been considered prudent, for though accepting Amy's suggestion to a certain extent, I had no intention of going beyond a little harmless flirtation.

"It had been arranged that on a certain day, we four, accompanied by my father, should ride over to Hanston Castle, a ruin which was locally considered of great interest. On the day fixed my father had an attack of gout which prevented his coming, but as I was now competent to act as chaperon, we did not think it necessary to alter our plans.

"It was a lovely summer morning on which our military escort arrived. We had decided to start early and lunch at a small inn near the Castle; spend some little time wandering about, and return as soon as the air was sufficiently cool to make riding pleasant. We found it very hot going over, and I felt quite done up before we had come to the end of our twelve miles' ride. Everything was in readiness for us at the inn, thanks to the forethought of our companions, who had sent over some provisions beforehand.

"It was too hot, however, to enjoy even the excellent cold lunch provided, but the iced champagne was like nectar after our exertion. It may be that without knowing it we all drank more freely than usual. Personally, as we wandered round the old ruin afterwards, I felt conscious of more dreamy contentment than usual, and it struck me that Amy showed even more than her wonted spirits.

"But I was not able to criticize her for long as she challenged the Major to a race, declaring that he could not catch her before she reached the flag-staff on the top of the Castle. As neither Captain Frint nor I felt inclined for violent exertion of this kind, we wandered on round the battlements till a shady corner tempted us to sit down and rest.

"Whether it was the wine or the exercise I do not know, but as I threw myself down on the soft grass in this shady spot I felt a reckless delight in existence never before known. The place was absolutely secluded; a massive, moss-covered wall rose above us on the left; on our right was the buttress round which we had just passed, while in the empty moat in front some magnificent trees were growing, the foliage of which provided us with welcome shade.

"My companion sat down beside me, and after offering a cigarette, which I accepted, lighted one himself. For a few moments we smoked in silence, then a desire came over me to make this man who had lately seemed so cold, acknowledge that he was my slave. Not that I cared for him, but rather because I was interested to know the meaning of his late behaviour. I felt convinced that he was fascinated by me, and yet since the first evening of our acquaintance he had never said one word which could justify me in this opinion. Had it not been that whenever I turned in his direction I found that he was watching with that unmistakable look in his eyes which speaks so plainly, I might have imagined that I was wrong.

"Little by little I tried to draw him on to confession, guided by an instinct which most women possess, and which requires neither study nor thought. Often this instinct guides by ways that would seem diametrically opposed to the purpose, but which have, when followed out, the desired effect; for it is by subtle and unstudied opposition that men can most easily be overcome, and for this reason an artless girl, often without knowing it, exerts a power where the most skilful coquette would utterly fail. Nature in such cases, is a better teacher than experience, and many girls are blamed for leading men on by artifice who have never even thought on the subject.

"In the present case, however, I was not unconscious, though I allowed my natural instinct to guide me, but for some little time with small success; for though after each veiled attack my companion's face grew paler, and the look of repressed feeling was more plainly noticeable on his features, yet he continued to talk on trivial subjects, and all attempts to turn the conversation into a personal channel were adroitly set aside, though with manifest effort on his part.

"Probably when nature planned men and women it failed to make allowance for what are now called considerations of honour, and possibly this may have been the cause of my difficulty. Trusting, therefore, that it might be more easy to arrive at the desired point by starting on another path, I said--

"'Are not men supposed to be more honourable than women?'

"'I do not know,' he replied; 'but as men have more temptations to dishonour, they have more opportunity of showing off the quality and gaining credit; yet I fancy that the great battles are lost or won more often in private than in public. The noble deed that the world hears of is often the impulse of a moment--some unconscious act of heroism; there are many who can do great deeds under the inspiration of the hour, but how few can safely meet temptation day by day successfully, in moments of weakness as well as in times of strength! The day may come when the sword of honour is forgotten, and the man falls even before knowing that he is in the presence of danger.'

"'You are very solemn and dull to-day. What has happened? Are you ill?' As I said this I put out my hand and just touched his arm. 'Can I not help you in any way? Tell me, what has been disturbing you so much lately? We are friends, you know, and friendship is a poor thing where there is no confidence. Besides, if you remember, I have already confided in you once.'

"He was trembling visibly, and looking up into his face, I knew that I had conquered.

"'I cannot tell you this,' he said; 'do not ask me.'

"'Oh, very well!' I replied, pretending not to understand him. 'Of course a girl's sympathy is not likely to be any use to you. It was absurd of me to fancy that it might be, and very probably you think I am not to be trusted.'

"'It is cruel of you to say that,' he replied. 'There is no one I would sooner trust. There is no one whose sympathy I long for more. But cannot you understand that there are some things that I may have no right to speak to you about--have no right to feel, perhaps; but our feelings we cannot always control, though our words we can.'

"'Oh, I don't want you to make me your confidant about anything which you consider I had better not hear,' I said, purposely still seeming to misunderstand him. 'Of course I can quite see that you may have something on your conscience which it would not do for you to tell me. However, I am sorry.'

"'It is not that I've done anything that could not be told to a woman,' he replied, getting up from the ground and standing over me. 'Oh! why cannot you understand that it is to you, and you only, that I may not speak, because to tell you would be to make things worse, not better?'

"'Whatever are you talking about?' I cried. 'Tell me at once what you mean. You have said either too much or too little, and I am justified in asking you to explain fully; or if you prefer to keep your secret from me, it must be at the cost of our friendship.'

"'Vera,' he said, bending over me, 'have you not seen--do you not know that I love you? Love you so deeply that, had it been possible, I should long ago have torn myself away from the scene of temptation; but oh! my love, I could not! I have striven to hide my feelings so that you might never know, and I, fool that I am! believed it was possible. All I asked was to be near you, to worship you; and what is the result? You will now despise and hate me. Had you loved your husband it would have been different, for till I knew that he had treated you badly--till I felt that you were in the sight of heaven not really his wife--I only admired you, and thought what a fortunate man he must be. But when you trusted me with this sorrow, a new feeling sprang up--a fire that could not be quenched. Oh, I know how vile I must seem in thus taking advantage of your confidence. Have I not thought over it day and night, saying to myself it is her very loneliness which should make the thought of love impossible! But I deceived myself with that old and oft-repeated deception of friendship, of self-renunciation, of living for you. Oh, Vera, I could not help it. If you could only know how sweet, how lovely you are, you would forgive.'

"He knelt down and kissed me on the forehead; then, apparently losing all further power of control, before I could decide what to say or do, he put his arm round me and kissed me on the lips and on the eyes. I leapt up, terrified by his passion, and conscious of a strange mixture of anger and pride: anger that he should have dared thus to insult me; pride that my beauty should so far overcome his reserve and honour.

"'Captain Frint!' I said, trembling so that I could hardly speak, 'I hate you--hate you! I thought you were a man to be trusted. I hope we shall never meet again.'

"He stood before me, looking on the ground. His face was deadly pale; his features were drawn and pinched as though he were suffering from acute bodily pain.

"'You are right,' he said at last, though in so low a tone that I could barely catch the words. 'I am a brute--the vilest of men! There is no excuse, so I will not make things worse by speaking. The only thing that is possible I will do. You shall not see me again after to-day.'

"As he spoke I could hear the strange sound which his parched lips made while he stammered out the words. When he had finished, for a moment I thought he would have fainted, but after a pause he seemed to recover somewhat, and continued--

"'Vera, you can never know how I have tried to be honourable, and though you will not believe me, had I foreseen that this could have happened, I would willingly have suffered the pain of parting from you before, rather than thus have given you cause for hating me. Oh, to think that I, who worship you so, should have dared to profane those pure, sweet lips, have dared to offer you my cursed love! Why is fate so cruel? If we had met a year ago, that which is now sin might have been so different! I cannot tell--I dare not even think of it--you might have loved me! This law which now separates us would have come no longer like the angel of death between us, and what is a curse would have proved a blessing! Hell, the eternity of which stretches before me, might have been changed to the gate of heaven. Why are things so ordered that fate has made my love poison, and turned that which should have been the greatest of earth's blessings into a curse? I must never see you again--must try even not to think of you. To do the latter is impossible, but the former I will do.'

"There was no mistake possible. The words he spoke were not caused by an exaggerated impulse of the moment; still less was he acting a part. He loved me, as I thought no one had ever done before, unselfishly yet passionately. I felt certain that if I said nothing, he would keep his word, and that this would be the last time I should have an opportunity of speaking to him. I did not like the idea of thus losing his companionship, but what was to be done? After thinking a minute, I said--

"'Captain Frint, I am very sorry that this should have happened. I quite thought that you had too much respect for me to act in the way you have done--even though you cared for me. I suppose that what you suggest is best, if you feel that your power of self-control is so weak that you cannot see without insulting the girl you profess to love. This being so, it is certainly imperative that you should go; but you must remember that if you suddenly give up calling, and act in the way proposed, people will probably talk. I can hardly think that you are so weak as, in the excitement of the moment, you fancy, and therefore if you will promise faithfully never to forget yourself in this way again, I will forgive you this once, though mind, never again. Come,' I continued, holding out my hand, 'let us be friends--mind, friends and nothing more. You must get over this silly fancy. There are plenty of nicer girls than I am, unmarried and waiting for you. To one of these you can express all those pretty sentiments without a prick of conscience.'

"'Thank you,' he said, 'I will promise not to forget, but can never hope to follow your advice. Do you think it would be possible to change so easily? You do not understand, and perhaps it is better you should not, how deeply I feel; but your forgiveness is the more generous, as this very depth of feeling is my only possible excuse.'

"We sat without speaking for a few minutes, and then he suggested that we had better go and look for our companions.

"After wandering about for some little time we found them comfortably reclining against a buttress on one of the towers. As we went up the winding steps we could hear them talking about the view. Amy, I thought, had evidently less occasion for a chaperon than had her qualified protector; but I was more doubtful about this point after having seen her face, which was flushed and showed signs of an unusual, though suppressed, excitement. The Major has proposed, I thought.

"I had no opportunity of finding out if this surmise were correct till I went up to our room that evening; and even then Amy, instead of answering my question, at first persisted in hearing what Captain Frint had been saying to me.

"'He looked like a ghost when you came up,' she said; 'whatever had you been doing to the poor man?'

"So I had to tell her, and was glad to find that she quite approved of my action, saying that it would have been a great mistake if I had let him go, and that it was only fair to punish him for his impertinence by a little extra tantalization.

"'If he had gone,' she said, 'he would have soon forgotten and taken up with some one else. Now you can keep him miserable as long as you like, for he is a safe man, you see, even as I told you.'

"I should have felt disposed to argue the point, for her way of speaking annoyed me, but at the moment I was too anxious to hear her experience, so I said that it was her turn now to explain.

"'There is not very much to tell,' she answered; 'you came up at rather an inconvenient moment. Our friend had been giving me a long discourse on love, which rather perplexed me. At last he became more personal, and was saying that he loved me to distraction, but that for some reason he dared not at the moment ask my love in return--when we heard your footsteps down below, and he at once changed the subject.'

"'I am sorry we came so soon,' I said. 'What did he mean, I wonder?'

"'That is the curious part of it,' said Amy. And we spent half-an-hour trying to make various guesses, but not one of them came near to the mark, as we discovered later on.

"As time passed, I grew more and more annoyed with my admirer. He was polite, respectful, and reserved, but decidedly uninteresting, and evidently so afraid of falling again, and showing his love for me, that he became stiff and formal the moment we were alone together.

"Why, I thought, cannot men be more reasonable? There surely is some line between frigidity and fire. Moreover, as I got over my alarm at his first outburst of affection, I began rather to desire some sign of my influence, and even tried now and again to break through his reserve by indirect reference to what had passed between us, but for some time without avail.

"This piqued me, and one evening when we were alone together, I was seized with a mad impulse to make him break his promise.

"'I am glad to see,' I began, 'that you have got over your difficulty so easily. You know I told you at the time that you under-rated your power, and exaggerated your feeling. Certainly there has been no sign lately of a repetition of your fault. In fact I am inclined to think that you are even rather tired of my company.'

"'You are mistaken,' he answered; 'there is one way, and one way only which I dare take. If I were to go ever so little beyond it I might go too far and again offend you. It is possible to be friendly with those we care little for, and to be cold to those we love; but to be intimate without showing our true feeling with one we care for above all others is, I believe, impossible. The strain would be too great. Some time or other the line would be crossed, the veil torn aside.'

"'But,' I asked, 'don't you think you are making a good deal out of a little? Suppose you do like me, would it not be better to accept the position and have done with it? Face facts bravely. I do not love you, and in any case cannot marry you; but there is no reason why we should not be good friends. What more can you want? It's no good being cross because you cannot have the impossible. You are worse than the love-sick maiden who fell in love with the man in the moon, for she was content to look at her idol, and you are not even satisfied with being able to talk to and see yours, but must needs sulk.'

"'You must know that it is not that,' he said. 'I am not cross, but I am afraid of myself. You cannot know how ashamed I felt after that day in the Castle, and as you were so forgiving and allowed me to see you again, it is doubly necessary for me to be on my guard.'

"'Well, you have been very good since,' I said, 'and as it is evident that you are to be trusted, for the future you may be a little more natural, and not quite so stiff and proper. You may be quite certain that I shall not for a moment allow you to go too far. But I cannot see why a man and a girl cannot be friends without the ridiculous idea they are bound to fall in love. I really believe it was nothing else than this on your part, and you must make up your mind to get over it. To help you to do this I am going to be quite open and frank with you. I shall treat you as a companion whom I like, and you can forget I am a girl, and treat me in the same way.'

"'I will try,' he said, 'but am rather doubtful of success. If you were not so pretty it would be easier.'

"'Pretty--Oh! rubbish!' I replied; 'whatever has that, even if it were true, got to do with the matter? You can make up your mind if you like, with the help of that powerful imagination of yours, that I am as ugly as sin. Don't you think you can?'

"I looked full in his face; for a moment his eyes met mine, then he turned away as I rattled on--

"'Don't you think it would be rather nice if you made up your mind to dismiss all this foolish nonsense about love, and were to try the experiment of true friendship? You could say to yourself, "Here is a girl that I like, who is willing to be friends with me, but nothing more; I will show her what an unselfish friendship means." If you will try and do that, I, for my part, will forget all about the past, and be very nice to you. I shall be very strict, but at the same time endeavour not to take offence at little things, especially if I see you are trying to be good. Now what do you say to that?'

"'Say?' he replied. 'Why, that you are far too good and noble to have anything to do with me. That if after what you have said I fail to show you true friendship, I am unworthy to be called a man! But, Vera----' He stopped, the word had evidently escaped him accidentally.

"'Well,' I broke in, 'I don't call that a very good beginning; but after all, there is no particular reason why friends should not call each other by their Christian names.'

"'I forgot,' he stammered, 'I so often think of you by that name that it slipped out by accident.'

"'Well, never mind, I promised not to be too strict,' I answered. 'But you must take care not to forget when we are in public, because you see people are so bad they cannot understand true friendship; but to show you that I have forgiven you, I will just for once call you Albert. It's rather a nice name, and seems to suit you. I think men, when they have been a long time away from home, must feel rather lonely if they never hear their Christian name. I suppose no one now calls you that, do they?'

"'No,' he answered, 'and if you will sometimes, I shall be glad to think that no one else ever would.'

"I put my hand up as if to cover his mouth, saying, 'Hush! you are already on the verge of transgression. Now, in future, when you are talking you must watch me very carefully. If I put my hand to my lips you will know that you have said something which is objected to. If I am seriously angry, I shall put up both my hands. Now don't forget!'

"The weeks of early summer passed quickly and pleasantly by. It is true that my conscience occasionally troubled me, for the agreement which I had made with Captain Frint did not work out exactly as intended. Our friendship at times would have been open to misconception had some unseen observer been present. I will do my companion the justice he deserves, by saying at once that he seemed to strive against his love; moreover, his conscience troubled him, I fancy, more than mine disturbed me, and after each outburst of demonstration he suffered apparently from a deep fit of remorse, which struck me as rather amusing than otherwise.

"But familiarity bred contempt, and little by little we both got more callous over what I tried to justify as playing at love-making. It was some time before I had any idea that this play was likely to become serious as far as my own feelings were concerned; but after a time a suspicion arose in my mind which I tried to stifle, that some great change had taken place in my heart. I found that life had begun to assume a different aspect. Time no longer hung heavily on my hands, but was divided into about equal periods of depression and exultation. My thoughts were running on one subject--the man who loved me.

"Then for the first time I began to realize the hopeless position in which we were placed, for though I believed that to live such a life as we now enjoyed would continue to satisfy me, yet even this was manifestly impossible; and I felt regret that we had drifted thus far upon a path which could only lead to the sorrow of parting. Up to this time any consideration for my companion's feelings in the matter had never occurred to me; but now I understood, and was more sorry for him than for myself. I had come across his path, and perhaps ruined his life. He had struggled nobly against his passion, while I had refused to let him go, and without any intention of returning his devotion had kept him from escaping the temptation. Now it seemed that I was being entangled in a like web, and it was impossible to see what would be the end of it all.

"Amy surprised me very much one morning by saying that she should be obliged to go home at the end of the week. She expressed great regret at leaving, but at the same time gave a reason for her return which, though unanswerable, was to me unsatisfactory. I felt convinced that she had some further object in view, which she did not care to mention. For a few weeks past our talks had been less confidential, partly owing to the fact that as I grew to care more for Captain Frint, I was less anxious to speak about him; and also that when we discussed the Major, while professing to have nothing further to communicate, Amy seemed desirous of avoiding the subject.

"On the Monday after she left I heard that Major Jackson had gone home on leave, and this seemed partially to explain her sudden change of plans."

*CHAPTER XII*

"I shall not attempt any explanation of a remarkable experience which happened some little time after Amy left, but shall give you a brief account of it.

"One lovely evening near the close of summer, sitting alone in the garden, dreamily listening to the soft hum of the insects and the distant murmur of the water, I was suddenly roused by the sound of a footstep, and turning toward the direction from which the sound came, I saw, greatly to my astonishment, Alan Sydney.

"At first sight I could hardly believe my senses, for though, after all, there was nothing so very extraordinary in his having returned to England, yet I fancied that he had gone away for some years, and I had lately hardly ever even thought about him.

"He was much changed, though it is not easy to describe in what way the alteration struck me. I had always been rather afraid of him, and I felt the fear now even more strongly than in the past. Yet his face, as he came nearer, bore no expression of severity, but only kindliness and pity.

"'You are surprised to see me, Vera,' he said; 'but you know I promised always to help you, and have, therefore, come now.'

"'I am delighted to see you back,' I answered, holding out my hand to him. 'But why did you not write? My father will be delighted! You must come and see him at once.'

"'Not now,' he replied, 'I only came to talk to you, and must go directly. Moreover, I do not wish you even to mention that you have seen me.'

"Saying this he sat down by my side, and I, wondering greatly why he had come, said--

"'Oh! I shall not hear of your going! You must tell me all about your travels. But, first of all, what made you fancy that I required your help now? You have already done so much for me it is difficult to imagine what further assistance so lucky a girl can need.'

"'Perhaps,' he said, 'I have done too much. It is often the case that those who would help, by their very effort to do so, only hinder. But tell me, are you happy?'

"As he said this he looked into my eyes, and there was something in his look which seemed to open my heart so that I could see what I had never fully known before. I tried to speak, but could not; then burying my face in my hands I wept. He placed his hand upon my head, and at his touch a feeling of rest and calm stole over me.

"Then he said--'Vera, why will you turn into the way of trouble? I have tried again and again to save you, but it is impossible to help one who wilfully, or even heedlessly, chooses that road which can only lead to sorrow. Every step taken over it has to be retrodden, and the smooth pathway will then be overgrown with thorns; the light of passion will have died out, and in weariness and darkness each step must be one of uncertainty and pain. I know how you have endeavoured to blind your eyes by false reasoning which can never help you, but the day of self-revelation always comes. You would argue that it is not your fault if men fall in love with your beauty, and that, placed in your position, it is more than usually difficult to act. But there is one thing that can always guide us--if, leaving our own position out of the question, and, caring nothing about our own salvation or our own end, we think but of others--of how each action will affect their lives. "Love and do as you like," said one of earth's noblest men. But it must be true love.

"There is a man who, in a limited sense, loves you, and whom, though in a still more limited sense, you love. He has tried nobly, considering his weakness, to keep that love pure, and when he found that his lower nature rebelled against his higher, he was willing, even anxious, to suffer the pain of separation rather than harm you. How knowing this, did you act? Did you consider him? Did you think--if I let him go on I shall be his eternal curse? He is now honourable, but he will become mean. Have you any idea what this implies to a man? When he is with you he may forget; but think of the solitary hours when he sees himself as he is, and knows that he is damning the girl he loves! If there is any nobleness in his nature, he must conquer his passion, or destroy his conscience. And each day it becomes more difficult to do the former--more imperative to do the latter. And you, consciously or unconsciously, have taken the very course which makes the path most difficult for him. Professing not to care for his love, you have well-nigh made it a point of honour that he should not leave you, whilst under the pretence of friendship you have taken every means to increase his infatuation. Already the infection of his feeling has influenced your nature. What will be the end? One of three things must happen. He will conquer either himself, or you, or the battle will destroy him. There is no other way open if you continue to act as you are doing now. The first would be the best, but whether it is now possible I doubt. Either of the other alternatives must lead to his utter misery and yours. Do not blind your eyes, Vera! You do not know how soon the fatal moment may come when it will be too late. And remember, do not think about yourself or your own safety--that will never help you. Think of the man who loves you, and save him.'

"He stopped speaking, and for a few moments I was so overcome by his words that I did not move, but still sat with bent head, my face covered in my hands. When I looked up he was no longer by me.

"It was growing dusk, and I could not see him. I called his name, but there was no answer. He had gone! Shame prevented me from trying to find him. No wonder, if he knew all this, that he wished to have nothing further to do with one so vile!

"It is surprising how hateful actions seem when placed in words, which, when only hid in the heart, trouble us little. If there be a God who can read the inmost thoughts, how great must be His love, or how overwhelming His contempt for us!"

As Vera said this I found myself in darkness. The vision had gone, and being very tired I slept.

*PART IV*

*CHAPTER XIII*

I have already mentioned that Alan Sydney was fond of hunting, and it so happened that a few days after the incidents related in the last chapter I overtook him riding to the meet. Since hearing his experience in India, and seeing more of his remarkable power, it seemed strange to me that a man with his advantages should still care for hunting, or even continue to live in the way he did at all. I took this opportunity of asking him some questions on the subject.

"I will try to explain to you," he said, "what seems, but is not, a contradiction in my life. One of the strongest powers which influences character is association. What a man once loves and cares for leaves him very slowly, and even death, as we call it, namely, the change in our surroundings, does not destroy the tendency of the past. No doubt it is owing to this that so often we see traces of the beast nature in man. Of all tendencies the desire to hunt, a necessary instinct of the lower creation, is most noticeable. It was doubtless this instinct that influenced me when young, as it has influenced so many; and I have explained to you before that I still find the sport of great service in taming and controlling my body."