[Illustration: "Not by a glance or a turn of the head did he let hisbride see how wildly her superlative attraction had kindled the fire inhis blood. "]

THE REASON WHY

BY ELINOR GLYN

1911

Author of "His Hour, " "Three Weeks, " etc. 

ILLUSTRATED BY EDMUND FREDERICK

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Not by a glance or a turn of his head did he let his bride see howwildly her superlative attraction had kindled the fire in his blood"

"The whole expression of her face changed as he came and leaned upon thepiano"

"With his English self-control and horror of a scene, he followed hiswife to the door"

"'Zara!' he said distractedly . .. 'Can I not help you?'"

THE REASON WHY

CHAPTER I

People often wondered what nation the great financier, Francis Markrute, originally sprang from. He was now a naturalized Englishman and helooked English enough. He was slight and fair, and had an immaculatelygroomed appearance generally--which even the best of valets cannotalways produce. He wore his clothes with that quiet, unconscious airwhich is particularly English. He had no perceptible accent--only adeliberate way of speaking. But Markrute!--such a name might have comefrom anywhere. No one knew anything about him, except that he wasfabulously rich and had descended upon London some ten years previouslyfrom Paris, or Berlin, or Vienna, and had immediately become a power inthe city, and within a year or so, had grown to be omnipotent in certaincircles. 

He had a wonderfully appointed house in Park Lane, one of those smallerones just at the turn out of Grosvenor Street, and there he entertainedin a reserved fashion. 

It had been remarked by people who had time to think--rare cases inthese days--that he had never made a disadvantageous friend, from hisvery first arrival. If he had to use undesirables for business purposeshe used them only for that, in a crisp, hard way, and never went totheir houses. Every acquaintance even was selected with care for adefinite end. One of his favorite phrases was that "it is only the foolwho coins for himself limitations. "

At this time, as he sat smoking a fine cigar in his library which lookedout on the park, he was perhaps forty-six years old or thereabouts, andbut for his eyes--wise as serpents'--he might have been ten yearsyounger. 

Opposite to him facing the light a young man lounged in a great leatherchair. The visitors in Francis Markrute's library nearly always facedthe light, while he himself had his back to it. 

There was no doubt about this visitor's nation! He was flamboyantlyEnglish. If you had wished to send a prize specimen of the race to aWorld's Fair you could not have selected anything finer. He was perhapsmore Norman than Saxon, for his hair was dark though his eyes were blue, and the marks of breeding in the creature showed as plainly as in aDerby winner. Francis Markrute always smoked his cigars to the end, ifhe were at leisure and the weed happened to be a good one, but LordTancred (Tristram Lorrimer Guiscard Guiscard, 24th Baron Tancred, ofWrayth in the County of Suffolk) flung his into the grate after a fewwhiffs, and he laughed with a slightly whimsical bitterness as he wenton with the conversation. 

"Yes, Francis, my friend, the game here is played out; I am thirty, andthere is nothing interesting left for me to do but emigrate to Canada, for a while at least, and take up a ranch. "

"Wrayth mortgaged heavily, I suppose?" said Mr. Markrute, quietly. 

"Pretty well, and the Northern property, too. When my mother's jointureis paid there is not a great deal left this year, it seems. I don't mindmuch; I had a pretty fair time before these beastly Radicals made thingsso difficult. "

The financier nodded, and the young man went on: "My forbears got rid ofwhat they could; there was not much ready money to come into and one hadto live!"

Francis Markrute smoked for a minute thoughtfully. 

"Naturally, " he said at last. "Only the question is--for how long? Iunderstand a plunge, if you settle its duration; it is the drifting andtrusting to chance, and a gradual sinking which seem to me a poor game. Did you ever read de Musset's 'Rolla'?"

"The fellow who had arrived at his last night, and to whom the littlegirl was so kind? Yes: well?"

"You reminded me of Jacques Rolla, that is all. "

"Oh, come! It is not as bad as that!" Lord Tancred exclaimed--and helaughed. "I can collect a few thousands still, even here, and I can goto Canada. I believe there is any quantity of money to be made therewith a little capital, and it is a nice, open-air life. I just looked inthis afternoon on my way back from Scotland to tell you I should begoing out to prospect, about the end of November and could not join youfor the pheasants on the 20th, as you were good enough to ask me to do. "

The financier half closed his eyes. When he did this there was alwayssomething of importance working in his brain. 

"You have not any glaring vices, Tancred, " he said. "You are no gamblereither on the turf or at cards. You are not over addicted to expensiveladies. You are cultivated, for a sportsman, and you have made one ortwo decent speeches in the House of Lords. You are, in fact, rather afine specimen of your class. It seems a pity you should have to shutdown and go to the Colonies. "

"Oh, I don't know! And I have not altogether got to shut down, " theyoung man said, "only the show is growing rather rotten over here. Wehave let the rabble--the most unfit and ignorant--have the casting vote, and the machine now will crush any man. I have kept out of politics asmuch as I can and I am glad. "

Francis Markrute got up and lowered the blind a few inches--a miserableSeptember sun was trying to shine into the room. If Lord Tancred had notbeen so preoccupied with his own thoughts he would have remarked thisrestlessness on the part of his host. He was no fool; but his mind wasfar away. It almost startled him when the cold, deliberate voicecontinued:

"I have a proposition to make to you should you care to accept it. Ihave a niece--a widow--she is rather an attractive lady. If you willmarry her I will pay off all your mortgages and settle on her quite aprincely dower. "

"Good God!" said Lord Tancred. 

The financier reddened a little about the temples, and his eyes for aninstant gave forth a flash of steel. There had been an infinite varietyof meanings hidden in the exclamation, but he demanded suavely:

"What point of the question causes you to exclaim 'Good God'?"

The sang-froid of Lord Tancred never deserted him. 

"The whole thing, " he said--"to marry at all, to begin with, and tomarry an unknown woman, to have one's debts paid, for the rest! It is atall order. "

"A most common occurrence. Think of the number of your peers who havegone to America for their wives, for no other reason. "

"And think of the rotters they are--most of them! I mayn't be muchcatch, financially; but I have one of the oldest names and titles inEngland--and up to now we have not had any cads nor cowards in thefamily, and I think a man who marries a woman for money is both. ByJove! Francis, what are you driving at? Confound it, man! I am notstarving and can work, if it should ever come to that. "

Mr. Markrute smoothed his hands. He was a peculiarly still persongenerally. 

"Yes, it was a blunder, I admit, to put it this way. So I will be frankwith you. My family is also, my friend, as old as yours. My niece is allI have left in the world. I would like to see her married to anEnglishman. I would like to see her married to you of all Englishmenbecause I like you and you have qualities about you which count in life. Oh, believe me!"--and he raised a protesting finger to quell aninterruption--"I have studied you these years; there is nothing you cansay of yourself or your affairs that I do not know. "

Lord Tancred laughed. 

"My dear old boy, " he said, "we have been friends for a long time; and, now we are coming to hometruths, I must say I like your deucedcold-blooded point of view on every subject. I like your knowledge ofwines and cigars and pictures, and you are a most entertainingcompanion. But, 'pon my soul I would not like to have your niece for awife if she took after you!"

"You think she would be cold-blooded, too?"

"Undoubtedly; but it is all perfectly preposterous. I don't believe youmean a word you are saying--it is some kind of a joke. "

"Have you ever known me to make such jokes, Tancred?" Mr. Markrute askedcalmly. 

"No, I haven't, and that is the odd part of it. What the devil do youmean, really, Francis?"

"I mean what I say: I will pay every debt you have, and give you acharming wife with a fortune. "

Lord Tancred got up and walked about the room. He was a perfectlynatural creature, stolid and calm as those of his race, disciplined anddeliberate in moments of danger or difficulty; yet he never lived underself-conscious control as the financier did. He was rather moved now, and so he walked about. He was with a friend, and it was not the momentto have to bother over disguising his feelings. 

"Oh, it is nonsense, Francis; I could not do it. I have knocked aboutthe world as you know, and, since you are aware of everything about me, you say, you have probably heard some of my likings--and dislikings. Inever go after a woman unless she attracts me, and I would never marryone of them unless I were madly in love with her, whether she had moneyor no; though I believe I would hate a wife with money, in anycase--she'd be saying like the American lady of poor Darrowood: 'It's mymotor and you can't have it to-day. '"

"You would marry a woman then--if you were in love, in spite ofeverything?" Francis Markrute asked. 

"Probably, but I have never been really in love; have you? It is allstory-book stuff--that almighty passion, I expect. They none of themmatter very much after a while, do they, old boy?"

"I have understood it is possible for a woman to matter, " the financiersaid and he drew in his lips. 

"Well, up to now I have not, " Lord Tancred announced, "and may the daybe far off when one does. I feel pretty safe!"

A strange, mysterious smile crept over Mr. Markrute's face. 

"By the way, also, how do you know the lady would be willing to marryme, Francis? You spoke as if I only had to be consulted in the affair. "

"So you have. I can answer for my niece; she will do as I wish, and, asI said before, you are rather a perfect picture of an English nobleman, Tancred. You have not found women recalcitrant, as a rule--no?"

Lord Tancred was not inordinately vain, though a man, and he had a senseof humor--so he laughed. 

"'Pon my word it is amusing, your turning into a sort of matrimonialagent. Can't you see the fun of the thing yourself?"

"It seems quite natural to me. You have every social advantage to offera woman, and a presentable person; and my niece has youth, and somelooks, and a large fortune. But we will say no more about it. I shall beglad to be of any service I can to you, anyway, in regard to yourCanadian scheme. Come and dine to-night; I happen to have asked a coupleof railway magnates with interests out there, and you can get someinformation from them. "

And so it was arranged, and Lord Tancred got up to go; but just at thedoor he paused and said with a laugh:

"And shall I see the niece?"

The financier had his back turned, and so he permitted the flicker of asmile to come over his mouth as he answered:

"It might be; but we have dismissed the subject of the niece. "

And so they parted. 

At the sound of the closing of the door Mr. Markrute pressed the buttonof a wonderful trifle of Russian enamel and emeralds, which lay on hiswriting table, and a quiet servant entered the room. 

"Tell the Countess Shulski I wish to speak to her here immediately, please, " he said. "Ask her to descend at once. "

But he had to walk up and down several times, and was growing impatient, before the door opened and a woman came slowly into the room. 

CHAPTER II

The financier paused in his restless pacing as he heard the door openand stood perfectly still, with his back to the light. The womanadvanced and also stood still, and they looked at one another with nogreat love in their eyes, though she who had entered was well worthlooking at, from a number of points of view. Firstly, she had thatarresting, compelling personality which does not depend upon features, or coloring, or form, or beauty. A subtle force of character--aradiating magnetism--breathed from her whole being. When Zara Shulskicame into any assemblage of people conversation stopped and speculationbegan. 

She was rather tall and very slender; and yet every voluptuous curve ofher lithe body refuted the idea of thinness. Her head was small and herface small, and short, and oval, with no wonderfully chiseled features, only the skin was quite exceptional in its white purity--not the purityof milk, but the purity of rich, white velvet, or a gardenia petal. Hermouth was particularly curved and red and her teeth were very even, andwhen she smiled, which was rarely, they suggested something of greatstrength, though they were small and white. And now I am coming to hertwo wonders, her eyes and her hair. At first you could have sworn theeyes were black; just great pools of ink, or disks of black velvet, setin their broad lids and shaded with jet lashes, but if they chanced toglance up in the full light then you knew they were slate color, not atinge of brown or green--the whole iris was a uniform shade: strange, slumberous, resentful eyes, under straight, thick, black brows, theexpression full of all sorts of meanings, though none of them peacefulor calm. And from some far back Spanish-Jewess ancestress she probablygot that glorious head of red hair, the color of a ripe chestnut when itfalls from its shell, or a beautifully groomed bright bay horse. Theheavy plaits which were wound tightly round her head must have fallenbelow her knees when they were undone. Her coiffure gave you theimpression that she never thought of fashion, nor changed its form ofdressing, from year to year. And the exquisite planting of the hair onher forehead, as it waved back in broad waves, added to the perfectionof the Greek simplicity of the whole thing. Nothing about her had beenaided by conscious art. Her dress, of some black clinging stuff, wasrather poor, though she wore it with the air of a traditional empress. Indeed, she looked an empress, from the tips of her perfect fingers toher small arched feet. 

And it was with imperial hauteur that she asked in a low, cultivatedvoice with no accent:

"Well, what is it? Why have you sent for me thus peremptorily?"

The financier surveyed her for a moment; he seemed to be taking in allher points with a fresh eye. It was almost as though he were countingthem over to himself--and his thoughts ran: "You astonishinglyattractive devil. You have all the pride of my father, the Emperor. Howhe would have gloried in you! You are enough to drive any man mad: youshall be a pawn in my game for the winning of my lady and gainhappiness for yourself, so in the end, Elinka, if she is able to seefrom where she has gone, will not say I have been cruel to you. "

"I asked you to come down--to discuss a matter of great importance: Willyou be good enough to be seated, my niece, " he said aloud withceremonious politeness as he drew forward a chair--into which she sankwithout more ado and there waited, with folded hands, for him tocontinue. Her stillness was always as intense as his own, but whereashis had a nervous tension of conscious repression, hers had anunconscious, quiet force. Her father had been an Englishman, but bothuncle and niece at moments made you feel they were silent panthers, ready to spring. 

"So--" was all she said. 

And Francis Markrute went on:

"You have a miserable position--hardly enough to eat at times, oneunderstands. You do not suppose I took the trouble to send for you fromParis last week, for nothing, do you? You guessed I had some plan in myhead, naturally. "

"Naturally, " she said, with fine contempt. "I did not mistake it forphilanthropy. "

"Then it is well, and we can come to the point, " he went on. "I am sorryI have had to be away, since your arrival, until yesterday. I trust myservants have made you comfortable?"

"Quite comfortable, " she answered coldly. 

"Good: now for what I want to know. You have no doubt in your mind thatyour husband, Count Ladislaus Shulski, is dead? There is no possiblemistake in his identity? I believe the face was practically shot away, was it not? I have taken the precaution to inform myself upon everypoint, from the authorities at Monte Carlo, but I wish for your finaltestimony. "

"Ladislaus Shulski is dead, " she said quietly, in a tone as though itgave her pleasure to say it. "The woman Féto caused the fray, IvanLarski shot him in her arms; he was her lover who paid, and Ladislausthe _amant du coeur_ for the moment. She wailed over the body like asquealing rabbit. She was there lamenting his fine eyes when they sentfor me! They were gone for ever, but no one could mistake his curlyhair, nor his cruel, white hands. Ah! it was a scene of disgust! I havewitnessed many ugly things but that was of the worst. I do not wish totalk of it; it is passed a year ago. Féto heaped his grave with flowers, and joined the hero, Larski, who was allowed to escape, so all waswell. "

"And since then you have lived from hand to mouth, with those others. "And here Francis Markrute's voice took on a new shade: there was a coldhate in it. 

"I have lived with my little brother, Mirko, and Mimo. How could Idesert them? And sometimes we have found it hard at the end of thequarter--but it was not always as bad as that, especially when Mimo solda picture--"

"I will not hear his name!" Francis Markrute said with some excitement. "In the beginning, if I could have found him I would have killed him, asyou know, but now the carrion can live, since my sister is dead. He isnot worth powder and shot. "

The Countess Shulski gave the faintest shrug of her shoulders, while hereyes grew blacker with resentment. She did not speak. Francis Markrutestood by the mantelpiece, and lit a cigar before he continued; he knewhe must choose his words as he was dealing with no helpless thing. 

"You are twenty-three years old, Zara, and you were married atsixteen, " he said at last. "And up to thirteen at least I know you werevery highly educated--You understand something of life, I expect. "

"Life!" she said--and now there was a concentrated essence of bitternessin her voice. "_Mon Dieu!_ Life--and men!"

"Yes, you probably think you know men. "

She lifted her upper lip a little, and showed her even teeth--it waslike an animal snarling. 

"I know that they are either selfish weaklings, or cruel, hateful bruteslike Ladislaus, or clever, successful financiers like you, my uncle. That is enough! Something we women must be always sacrificed to. "

"Well, you don't know Englishmen--"

"Yes, I remember my father very well; cold and hard to my darlingmother"--and here her voice trembled a little--"he only thought ofhimself, and to rush to England for sport--and leave her alone formonths and months: selfish and vile--all of them!"

"In spite of that I have found you an English husband whom you will begood enough to take, madame, " Francis Markrute announcedauthoritatively. 

She gave a little laugh--if anything so mirthless could be called alaugh. 

"You have no power over me; I shall do no such thing. "

"I think you will, " the financier said with quiet assurance, "if I knowyou. There are terms, of course--"

She glanced at him sharply: the expression in those somber eyes wasoften alert like a wild animal's, about to be attacked; only she hadtrained herself generally to keep the lids lowered. 

"What are the terms?" she asked. 

And as she spoke Francis Markrute thought of the black panther in theZoo, which he was so fond of going to watch on Sunday mornings, shereminded him so of the beast at the moment. 

He had been constrained up to this, but now, the question being one ofbusiness, all his natural ease of manner returned, and he sat downopposite her and blew rings of smoke from his cigar. 

"The terms are that the boy Mirko, your half-brother, shall be providedfor for life. He shall live with decent people, and have his talentproperly cultivated--"

He stopped abruptly and remained silent. 

Countess Shulski clasped her hands convulsively in her lap, and with allthe pride and control of her voice there was a note of anguish, too, which would have touched any heart but one so firmly guarded as FrancisMarkrute's. 

"Ah, God!" she said so low that he could only just hear her, "I havepaid the price of my body and soul once for them. It is too much to askit of me a second time--"

"That is as you please, " said the financier. 

He seldom made a mistake in his methods with people. He left nothing tochance; he led up the conversation to the right point, fired his bomb, and then showed absolute indifference. To display interest in a move, when one was really interested, was always a point to the adversary. Hemaintained interest could be simulated when necessary, but must never beshown when real. So he left his niece in silence, while she ponderedover his bargain, knowing full well what would be the result. She got upfrom her chair and leaned upon the back of it, while her face lookedwhite as death in the dying afternoon's light. 

"Can you realize what my life was like with Ladislaus?" she hissed. "Aplaything for his brutal pleasures, to begin with; a decoy duck to trapthe other men, I found afterwards; tortured and insulted from morning tonight. I hated him always, but he seemed so kind beforehand--kind to mydarling mother, whom you were leaving to die. "--Here Francis Markrutewinced and a look of pain came into his hard face while he raised a handin protest and then dropped it again, as his niece went on--"And shewas beginning to be ill even at that time and we were so poor--so Imarried him. "

Then she swept toward the door with her empress air, the rather shabby, dark dress making a swirl behind her; and as she got there she turnedand spoke again, with her hand on the bronze tracery of the fingerplate, making, unconsciously, a highly dramatic picture, as a sudden last rayof the sinking sun shot out and struck the glory of her hair, turning itto flame above her brow. 

"I tell you it is too much, " she said, with almost a sob in her voice. "I will not do it. " And then she went out and closed the door. 

Francis Markrute, left alone, leant back in his chair and puffed hiscigar calmly while he mused. 

What strange things were women! Any man could manage them if only hereckoned with their temperaments when dealing with them, and paid noheed to their actual words. Francis Markrute was a philosopher. A numberof the shelves of this, his library, were filled with works on thesubject of philosophy, and a well-thumbed volume of the fragments ofEpicurus lay on a table by his side. He picked it up now and read: "Hewho wastes his youth on high feeding, on wine, on women, forgets that heis like a man who wears out his overcoat in the summer. " He had notwasted his youth either on wine or women, only he had studied both, andtheir effects upon the thing which, until lately, had interested himmost in the world--himself. They could both be used to the greatestadvantage and pleasure by a man who apprehended things he knew. 

Then he turned to the _Morning Post_ which was on a low stand near, andhe read again a paragraph which had pleased him at breakfast:

"The Duke of Glastonbury and Lady Ethelrida Montfitchet entertained atdinner last night a small party at Glastonbury House, among the guestsbeing--" and here he skipped some high-sounding titles and let his eyefeast upon his own name, "Mr. Francis Markrute. "

Then he smiled and gazed into the fire, and no one would have recognizedhis hard, blue eyes, as he said softly:

"Ethelrida! _belle et blonde!_"

CHAPTER III

While the financier was contentedly musing in his chair beside the fire, his niece was hurrying into the park, wrapped in a dark cloak and thickveil. She had slipped out noiselessly, a few minutes after she left thelibrary. The sun had completely set now and it was damp and cold, withthe dead leaves, and the sodden autumn feeling in the air. Zara Shulskishivered, in spite of the big cloak, as she peered into the gloom of thetrees, when she got nearly to the Achilles statue. The rendezvous hadbeen for six o'clock; it was now twenty minutes past, and it was so badfor Mirko to wait in the cold. Perhaps they would have gone on. But no;she caught sight of two shabby figures, close up under the statue, whenshe got sufficiently near. 

They came forward eagerly to meet her. And even in the half light itcould be seen that the boy was an undersized little cripple of perhapsnine or ten years old but looking much younger; as it could also be seenthat even in his worn overcoat and old stained felt hat the man was agloriously handsome creature. 

"What joy to see you, Chérisette!" exclaimed the child. "Papa and I havebeen longing and longing all the day. It seemed that six would nevercome. But now that you are here let me eat you--eat you up!" And thethin, little arms, too long for the wizened body, clasped fondly roundher neck as she lifted him, and carried him toward a seat where thethree sat down to discuss their affairs. 

"I know nothing, you see, Mimo, " the Countess Shulski said, "beyond thatyou arrived yesterday. I think it was foolish of you to risk it. Atleast in Paris Madame Dubois would have let you stay and owe a week'srent. But here--among these strangers--"

"Now do not scold us, Mentor, " the man answered, with a charming smile. "Mirko and I felt the sun had fled when you went last Thursday. Itrained and rained two--three--days, and the Dubois canary got completelyon our nerves; and, heavens above! the Grisoldi insisted upon cookinggarlic in his food at every meal!--we had thought to have broken him ofthe habit, you remember?--and up, up it came from his stove. Body ofBacchus! It killed inspiration. I could not paint, my Chérisette, andMirko could not play. And so we said: 'At least--at least the sun of thehair of our Chérisette must shine in the dark England; we, too, will gothere, away from the garlic and the canary, and the fogs will give usnew ideas, and we shall create wonderful things. ' Is it not so, Mirkomio?"

"But, of course, Papa, " the boy echoed; and then his voice trembled witha pitiful note. "You are not angry with us, darling Chérisette? Say itis not so?"

"My little one! How can you! I could never be angry with my Mirko, nomatter what he did!" And the two pools of ink softened from theexpression of the black panther into the divine tenderness of theSistine Madonna, as she pressed the frail, little body to her side andpulled her cloak around it. 

"Only I fear it cannot be well for you here in London, and if my uncleshould know, all hope of getting anything from him may be over. Heexpressly said if I would come quite alone, to stay with him for thesefew weeks, it would be to my advantage; and my advantage means yours, asyou know. Otherwise do you think I would have eaten of his hatefulbread?"

"You are so good to us, Chérisette, " the man Mimo said. "You have, indeed, a sister of the angels, Mirko mio; but soon we shall be all richand famous. I had a dream last night, and already I have begun a newpicture of grays and mists--of these strange fogs!"

Count Mimo Sykypri was a confirmed optimist. 

"Meanwhile you are in the one room, in Neville Street, Tottenham CourtRoad. It is, I fear, a poor neighborhood. "

"No worse than Madame Dubois', " Mimo hastened to reassure her, "andLondon is giving me new ideas. "

Mirko coughed harshly with a dry sound. Countess Shulski drew him closerto her and held him tight. 

"You got the address from the Grisoldi? He was a kind little old man, inspite of the garlic, " she said. 

"Yes, he told us of it, as an inexpensive resting place, until ouraffairs prospered, and we came straight there and wrote to you at once. "

"I was greatly surprised to receive the letter. Have you any money atall now, Mimo?"

"Indeed, yes!" And Count Sykypri proudly drew forth eight bits of Frenchgold from his pocket. "We had two hundred francs when we arrived. Ourlittle necessities and a few paints took up two of the twenty-francpieces, and we have eight of them left! Oh, quite a fortune! It willkeep us until I can sell the 'Apache. ' I shall take it to a picturedealer's to-morrow. "

Countess Shulski's heart sank. She knew so well of old how long eighttwenty-franc pieces would be likely to last! In spite of Mirko's careand watching of his father that gentleman was capable of giving one ofthem to a beggar if the beggar's face and story touched him, and any ofthe others could go in a present to Mirko or herself--to be pawnedlater, when necessity called. The case was hopeless as far as money wasconcerned with Count Sykypri. 

Her own meager income, derived from the dead Shulski, was alwaysforestalled for the wants of the family--the little brother whom she hadpromised her dead and adored mother never to desert. 

For when the beautiful wife of Maurice Grey, the misanthropic andeccentric Englishman who lived in a castle near Prague, ran off withCount Mimo Sykypri, her daughter, then aged thirteen, had run with her, and the pair had been wiped off the list of the family. And MauriceGrey, after cursing them both and making a will depriving them ofeverything, shut himself up in his castle, and steadily drank himself todeath in less than a year. And the brother of the beautiful Mrs. Grey, Francis Markrute, never forgave her either. He refused to receive her orhear news of her, even after poor little Mirko was born and she marriedCount Sykypri. 

For on the father's side, the Markrute brother and sister were of verynoble lineage; even with his bar sinister the financier could not brookthe disgrace of Elinka. He had loved her so--the one soft side of hisadamantine character. Her disgrace, it seemed, had frozen all thetenderness in his nature. 

Countess Shulski was silent for a few moments, while both Mimo and Mirkowatched her face anxiously. She had thrown back her veil. 

"And supposing you do not sell the 'Apache, ' Mimo? Your own money doesnot come in until Christmas; mine is all gone until January, and it isthe cold winter approaching--and cold is not good for Mirko. What then?"

Count Sykypri moved uneasily. A tragic look grew in his handsome face;his face that was a mirror of all passing emotions; his face that hadbeen able to express love and romance, devotion and tenderness, to wilea bird from off a tree or love from the heart of any woman. And eventhough Zara Shulski knew of just how little value was anything he saidor did yet his astonishing charm always softened her irritation towardhis fecklessness. So she repeated more gently:

"What then?"

Mimo got up and flung out his arms in a dramatic way. 

"It cannot be!" he said. "I must sell the 'Apache!' Besides, if I don't:I tell you these strange, gray fogs are giving me new, wonderfulthoughts--dark, mysterious--two figures meeting in the mist! Oh! but awonderful combination that will be successful in all cases. "

Mirko pressed his arm round his sister's neck and kissed her cheek, while he cooed love words in a soft Slavonic language. Two big tearsgathered in Zara Shulski's deep eyes and made them tender as a dove's. 

She drew out her purse and counted from it two sovereigns and someshillings which she slipped into Mirko's small hand. 

"Keep these, pet, for an emergency, " she said. "They are all I have, butI will--I must--find some other way for you soon: and now I shall haveto go. If my uncle should suspect I am seeing you I might be powerlessto help further. "

They walked with her to the Grosvenor Gate, and reluctantly let herleave them; and then they watched her, as she sped across the roadbetween the passing taxi-cabs. When they saw the light from the openingdoor and her figure disappearing between the tall servants who had cometo open it, the two poor, shabby figures walked on with a sigh, to tryto find an omnibus which would put them down somewhere near their dingybedroom in Neville Street, Tottenham Court Road. And as they reached theMarble Arch there came on a sharp shower of icy rain. 

Countess Shulski, however poorly dressed, was a person to whom servantswere never impertinent; there was something in her bearing whichprecluded all idea of familiarity. It did not even strike Turner, orJames, that her clothes were what none of the housemaids would haveconsidered fit to wear when they went out. The remark the lordly Turnermade, as he arranged some letters on the hall table, was:

"A very haughty lady, James--quite a bit of the Master about her, eh?"

But she went on to the lift, slowly, and to her luxurious bedroom, herheart full of pain and rage against fate. Here she sat down before thefire, and, resting her chin on her two hands, gazed steadily into theglowing coals. 

What pictures did she see of past miseries there in the flames? Herthoughts wandered right back to the beginning. The stern, peculiarfather, and the gloomy castle. The severe governesses--English andGerman--and her adorable, beautiful mother, descending upon theschoolroom like a fairy of light, always gay and sweet and loving. Andthen of that journey to a far country, where she saw an old, old, dyinggentleman in a royal palace, who kissed her, and told her she wouldgrow as beautiful as her grandmother with the red, red hair. And therein the palace was Mimo, so handsome and kind in his glitteringaide-de-camp's uniform, who after that often came to the gloomy castle, and, with the fairy mother, to the schoolroom. Ah! those days were happydays! How they three had shrieked with laughter and played hide-and-seekin the long galleries!

And then the blank, hideous moment when the angel fairy had gone, andthe stern father cursed and swore, and Uncle Francis' face looked like avengeful fiend's. And then a day when she got word to meet her mother inthe park of the castle. How she clung to her and cried and sobbed to betaken, too! And they--Mimo and the mother--always so kind and loving andirresponsible, consented. And then the flight; and weeks of happiness inluxurious hotels, until the mother's face grew pinched and white, and noletters but her own--returned--came from Uncle Francis. And ever thefear grew that if Mimo were absent from her for a moment Uncle Franciswould kill him. The poor, adored mother! And then of the coming ofMirko and all their joy over it; and then, gradually, the skeleton ofpoverty, when all the jewels had been sold and all Mimo's uniform andswords; and nothing but his slender income, which could not be takenfrom him, remained. How he had worked to be a real artist, there inParis! Oh! poor Mimo. He had tried, but everything was so against agentleman; and Mirko such a delicate baby, and the mother's lovely faceso often sad. And then the time of the mother's first bad illness--howthey had watched and prayed, and Mimo had cried tears like a child, andthe doctor had said the South was the only thing to help their angel'srecovery. So to marry Ladislaus Shulski seemed the only way. He had avilla in the sun at Nice and offered it to them; he was crazy abouther--Zara--at that time, though her skirts were not quite long, nor hersplendid hair done up. 

When her thoughts reached this far, the black panther in the Zoo neverlooked fiercer when Francis Markrute poked his stick between its bars tostir it up on Sunday mornings. 

The hateful, hateful memories! When she came to know what marriagemeant, and--a man! But it had saved the sweet mother's life for thatwinter. And though it was a strain to extract anything from Ladislaus, still, in the years that followed, often she had been able to help untilhis money, too, was all gone--on gambling and women. 

And then the dear mother died--died in cold and poverty, in a poorlittle studio in Paris--in spite of her daughter's and Mimo's franticletters to Uncle Francis for help. She knew now that he had been faraway, in South Africa, at the time, and had never received them, untiltoo late; but then, it seemed as if God Himself had forsaken them. Andnow came the memory of her solemn promise. Mirko should never bedeserted--the adored mother could die in peace about that. Her lastwords came back now--out of the glowing coals:

"I have been happy with Mimo, after all, my Chérisette, with you andMimo and Mirko. It was worth while--" And so she had gasped--and died. 

And here the tears gathered and blurred the flaming coals. But Zara'sdecision had come. There was no other way. To her uncle's bargain shemust consent. 

She got up abruptly and flung her hat on the bed--her cloak had alreadyfallen from her--and without further hesitation she descended thestairs. 

Francis Markrute was still seated in his library; he had taken out hiswatch and was calculating the time. It was twenty-five minutes to eight;his guests would be coming to dine at eight o'clock and he had not begunto dress. Would his niece have made up her mind by then?

That there could be any doubt about the fact that she would make up hermind as he wished never entered his head. It was only a question of timebut it would be better, for every reason, if she arrived at theconclusion at once. 

He rose from his chair with a quiet smile as she entered the room. Soshe had come! He had not relied upon his knowledge of a woman'stemperament in vain. 

She was very pale. The extra whiteness showed even on her gardenia skin, and her great eyes gleamed sullenly from beneath her lowering brows ofink. 

"If the terms are for the certain happiness of Mirko I consent, " shesaid. 

CHAPTER IV

The four men--the two railway magnates, Francis Markrute, and LordTancred--had all been waiting a quarter of an hour before thedrawing-room fire when the Countess Shulski sailed into the room. Shewore an evening gown of some thin, black, transparent, woolen stuff, which clung around her with the peculiar grace her poorest clothesacquired. Another woman would have looked pitifully shabby in such adress, but her distinction made it appear to at least three of the menas the robe of a goddess. Francis Markrute was too annoyed at the delayof her coming to admire anything; but even he, as he presented hisguests to her, could not help remarking that he had never seen her lookmore wonderful, nor more contemptuously regal. 

They had had rather a stormy scene in the library, half an hour before. Her words had been few, but their displeasure had been unconcealed. Shewould agree to the bare bargain, if so be this strange man were willing, but she demanded to know the reason of his willingness. 

And when she was told it was a business matter between the two men, andthat she would be given a large fortune, she expressed no more surprisethan a disdainful curl of the lips. 

For her, all men were either brutes--or fools like poor Mimo. 

If she had known that Lord Tancred had already refused her hand andthat her uncle was merely counting upon his own unerring knowledge ofhuman nature--and Lord Tancred's nature in particular--she might havefelt humiliated, instead of full of impotent rage. 

The young man, for his part, had arrived exactly on the stroke of eight, a rare effort of punctuality for him. Some underneath excitement to seehis friend Markrute's niece had tingled in his veins from the moment hehad left the house. 

What sort of a woman could it be who would be willing to marry aperfect stranger for the sake of his title and position? Thequarter-of-an-hour's wait had not added to his calm. So when the doorhad eventually opened for her entry he had glanced up with intenseinterest, and had then drawn in his breath as she advanced up the room. The physical part of the lady at all events was extremely delectable. 

But when he was presented and his eyes met hers he was startled by thelook of smoldering, somber hate he saw in them. 

What could it all mean? Francis must have been romancing. Why should shelook at him like that, if she were willing to marry him? He was piquedand interested. 

She spoke not a word as they went down to dinner, but he was no rawyouth to be snubbed thus into silence. His easy, polished manner soonstarted a conversation upon the usual everyday things. He received "Yes"and "No" for answers. The railway magnate on her other side was hardlymore fortunate, until the entrées were in full swing, then she unfroze alittle; the elderly gentleman had said something which interested her. 

The part which particularly irritated Lord Tancred was that he felt sureshe was not really stupid--who could be stupid with such a face? And hewas quite unaccustomed to being ignored by women. A like experience hadnot occurred to him in the whole of his life. 

He watched her narrowly. He had never seen so white a skin; theadmirably formed bones of her short, small face caused, even in a sidelight, no disfiguring shadows to fall beside the mouth and nose, nor onthe cheeks; all was velvety smooth and rounded. The remote Jewish touchwas invisible--save in the splendor of the eyes and lashes. She filledhim with the desire to touch her, to clasp her tightly in his arms, topull down that glorious hair and bury his face in it. And Lord Tancredwas no sensualist, given to instantly appraising the outward charm ofwomen. 

When the grouse was being handed, he did get a whole sentence from her;it was in answer to his question whether she liked England. 

"How can one say--when one does not know?" she said. "I have only beenhere once before, when I was quite a child. It seems cold and dark. "

"We must persuade you to like it better, " he answered, trying to lookinto her eyes which she had instantly averted. The expression ofresentment still smoldered there, he had noticed, during their briefglance. 

"Of what consequence whether I like it or no, " she said, looking acrossthe table, and this was difficult to answer! It seemed to set him uponhis beam-ends. He could not very well say because he had suddenly begunto admire her very much! At this stage he had not decided what he meantto do. 

An unusual excitement was permeating his being; he could not account forhow or why. He had felt no sensation like it, except on one of his lionhunts in Africa when the news had come into camp that an exceptionallyfine beast had been discovered near and might be stalked on the morrow. His sporting instincts seemed to be thoroughly awakened. 

Meanwhile Countess Shulski had turned once more to Sir Philip Armstrong, the railway magnate. He was telling her about Canada and she listenedwith awakening interest: how there were openings for every one and greatfortunes could be made there by the industrious and persevering. 

"It has not come to a point, then, when artists could have a chance, Isuppose?" she asked. Lord Tancred wondered at the keenness in her voice. 

"Modern artists?" Sir Philip queried. "Perhaps not, though the rich menare beginning to buy pictures and beautiful things, too; but in a newcountry it is the man of sinew and determination, not the dreamer, whosucceeds. "

Her head then drooped a little; her interest now seemed only mechanical, as she answered again, "Yes" and "No. "

Lord Tancred wondered and wondered; he saw that her thoughts were faraway. 

Francis Markrute had been watching things minutely while he kept up hissuave small talk with Colonel Macnamara on his right hand. He was wellpleased with the turn of events. After all, nothing could have beenbetter than Zara's being late. Circumstance often played into the handof an experienced manipulator like himself. Now if she only kept up thisattitude of indifference, which, indeed, she seemed likely to do--shewas no actress, he knew--things might be settled this very night. 

Lord Tancred could not get her to have a single continued conversationfor the remainder of dinner; he was perfectly raging with annoyance, hisfighting blood was up. And when at the first possible moment after thedessert arrived she swept from the room, her eyes met his as he held thedoor and they were again full of contemptuous hate. 

He returned to his seat with his heart actually thumping in his side. 

And all through the laborious conversation upon Canada and how best toinvest capital, which Francis Markrute with great skill and apparentlyhearty friendship prolonged to its utmost limits, he felt the attractionand irritation of the woman grow and grow. He no longer took theslightest interest in the pros and cons of his future in the Colony, andwhen, at last, he heard the distant tones of Tschaikovsky's _ChansonTriste_ as they ascended the stairs he came suddenly to a determination. She was sitting at the grand piano in the back part of the room. A huge, softly shaded lamp shed its veiled light upon her white face and roundedthroat; her hands and arms, which showed to the elbow, seemed not lesspale than the ivory keys, and those disks of black velvet gazed in frontof them, a whole world of anguish in their depths. 

For this was the tune that her mother had loved, and she was playing itto remind herself of her promise and to keep herself firm in herdetermination to accept the bargain, for her little brother Mirko'ssake. 

She glanced at Lord Tancred as he entered. Count Ladislaus Shulski hadbeen a very handsome man, too. She did not know enough of the Englishtype to judge of Lord Tancred morally. She only saw that he was asplendid, physical creature who would be strong--and horribleprobably--like the rest. 

The whole expression of her face changed as he came and leaned upon thepiano. The sorrow died out of her eyes and was replaced by a fiercedefiance; and her fingers broke into a tarantella of wild sounds. 

"You strange woman!" Lord Tancred said. 

"Am I strange?" she answered through her teeth. "It is said by those whoknow that we are all mad--at some time and at some point. I have, Ithink, reason to be mad to-night. " And with that she crashed a finalchord, rose from her seat, and crossed the room. 

"I hope, Uncle Francis, your guests will excuse me, " she said, with animperial, aloof politeness, "but I am very tired. I will wish you all agood-night. " She bowed to them as they expressed their regrets, and thenslowly left the room. 

"Goodnight, madame, " Lord Tancred said, at the door. "Some day you and Iwill cross swords. "

But he was rewarded by no word, only an annihilating glance from hersullen eyes, and he stood there and gazed at her as she passed up thestairs. 

"An extraordinary and beautiful woman--your niece--eh, my dearMarkrute?" he heard one of the pompous gentlemen say, as he returned tothe group by the fire, and it angered him--he could not have told why. 

Francis Markrute, who knew his moments, began now to talk about her, casually; how she was an interesting, mysterious character; beautiful?well, no, not exactly that--a superlative skin, fine eyes and hair, butno special features. 

"I will not admit that she is beautiful, my friend, " he said. "Beautysuggests gentleness and tenderness. My niece reminds me of the blackpanther in the Zoo, but one could not say--if she were tamed. "

Such remarks were not calculated to allay the growing interest andattraction Lord Tancred was feeling. Francis Markrute knew his audience;he never wasted his words. He abruptly turned the conversation back toCanada again, until even the two magnates on their own ground were boredand said goodnight. The four men came downstairs together. As the twoothers were being assisted into their coats by Turner and his satellitesthe host said to Lord Tancred:

"Will you have a cigar with me, Tancred, before you go on to your supperparty?" And presently they were both seated in mammoth armchairs in thecozy library. 

"I hope, my dear boy, you have all the information you want aboutCanada, " Mr. Markrute said. "You could not find two more influentialpeople than Sir Philip and the Colonel. I asked--" but Lord Tancredinterrupted him. 

"I don't care a farthing more about Canada!" he flashed out. "I havemade up my mind. If you really meant what you said to-day, I will marryyour niece, and I don't care whether she has a penny or no. "

The financier's plans had indeed culminated with a rush!

But he expressed no surprise, merely raised his eyebrows mildly andpuffed some blue rings of smoke, as he answered:

"I always mean what I say, only I do not care for people to do thingsblindly. Now that you have seen my niece are you sure she would suityou? I thought, after all, perhaps not, to-night: she is certainly adifficult person. It would be no easy task for any man to controlher--as a wife. "

[Illustration: "The whole expression of her face changed as he came andleaned upon the piano. "]

"I don't care for tame women, " Lord Tancred said. "It is that veryquality of difficulty which has inspired me. By George! did you ever seesuch a haughty bearing? It will take a man's whole intelligence to knowwhich bit to use. "

"She may close her teeth on whatever bit you use, and bolt with it. Donot say afterwards that I let you take her blindly. "

"Why does she look at me with such hate?" Lord Tancred was just going toask--and then he stopped himself. It was characteristic of him that nowhe had made up his mind he would not descend to questions or details--hewould find all out later for himself--but one thing he must know: hadshe really consented to marry him? If so, she had her own reasons, ofcourse, and desire for himself was not among them; but, somehow, he feltsure they were not sordid or paltry ones. He had always liked dangerousgames--the most unbroken polo ponies to train in the country, thefreshest horses, the fiercest beasts to stalk and kill--and why not adifficult wife? It would add an adorable spice to the affair. But as hewas very honest with himself he knew, underneath, that it was not whollyeven this instinct, but that she had cast some spell over him and thathe must have her for his own. 

"You might very well ask her history, " Francis Markrute said. He couldbe so gracious when he liked, and he really admired the wholehearteddash with which Lord Tancred had surrendered; there was something bigand royal about it--he himself never gambled in small sums either. "Soas I expect you won't, " he continued, "I will tell you. She is thedaughter of Maurice Grey, a brother of old Colonel Grey of Hentingdon, whom everybody knew, and she has been the widow of an unspeakable brutefor over a year. She was an immaculate wife, and devoted daughter beforethat. The possibilities of her temperament are all to come. "

Lord Tancred sprang from his chair, the very thought of her and hertemperament made him thrill. Was it possible he was already in love, after one evening?

"Now we must really discuss affairs, my dear boy, " the financier wenton. "Her dower, as I told you, will be princely. "

"That I absolutely refuse to do, Francis, " Lord Tancred answered. "Itell you I want the woman for my wife. You can settle the other thingswith my lawyer if you care to, and tie it all up on her. I am notinterested in that matter. The only thing I really wish to know is ifyou are sure she will marry me?"

"I am perfectly sure. " The financier narrowed his eyes. "I would nothave suggested the affair to-day if I had had any doubt about that. "

"Then it is settled, and I shall not ask why. I shall not ask any thing. Only when may I see her again and how soon can we be married?"

"Come and lunch with me in the city to-morrow, and we will talk overeverything. I shall have seen her, and can then tell you when to presentyourself. And I suppose you can have the ceremony at the beginning ofNovember?"

"Six whole weeks hence!" Lord Tancred said, protestingly. "Must she getsuch heaps of clothes? Can't it be sooner? I wanted to be here for myUncle Glastonbury's first shoot on the 2nd of November, and if we areonly married then, we shall be off on a honeymoon. You must come to thatshoot, by-the-way, old boy, it is the pleasantest of the whole lot hehas; one day at the partridges, and a dash at the pheasants; but he onlyasks the jolliest parties to this early one, for Ethelrida's birthday, and none of the bores. "

"It would give me great pleasure to do so, " Francis Markrute said. Andhe looked down so that Lord Tancred should not see the joy in his eyes. 

Then they shook hands most heartily, and the newly made fiancé saidgood-night, with the happy assurance in his ears that he might claim hisbride in time to be back from a week's honeymoon for the Glastonburyshoot. 

When he had gone Francis Markrute's first act was to sit down and writea four-figure check for the Cripple Children's Hospital: he believed inthankofferings. Then he rubbed his hands softly together as he went upto his bed. 

CHAPTER V

Then Lord Tancred left the house in Park Lane he did not go on to thesupper party at the Savoy he had promised to attend. That sort ofaffair had bored him, now for several years. Instead, he drove straightback to his rooms in St. James' Street, and, getting comfortably intohis pet chair, he steadily set himself to think. He had acted upon amad impulse; he knew that and did not argue with himself about it, orregret it. Some force stronger than anything he had hitherto known hadcompelled him to come to the decision. And what would his future lifebe like with this strange woman? That could not be exactly guessed. That it would contain scenes of the greatest excitement he did notdoubt. She would in all cases look the part. His mother herself--theLady Tancred, daughter of the late and sister of the present Duke ofGlastonbury--could not move with more dignity: a thought which remindedhim that he had better write to his parent and inform her of hisintended step. He thought of all the women he had loved--or imagined hehad loved--since he left Eton. The two affairs which had convulsed himduring his second year at Oxford were perhaps the most serious; theLaura Highford, his last episode, was fortunately over and had alwaysbeen rather tiresome. In any case none of those ladies of the world--orother world--had any reasons to reproach him, and he was free andhappy. And if he wished to put down a large stake on the card ofmarriage he was answerable to no one. 

During the last eight hundred years, ever since Amaury Guiscard of thathouse of Hauteville whose daring deeds gave sovereigns to half Europe, had come over with his Duke William, and had been rewarded by the giftof the Wrayth lands--seized from the Saxons--his descendants hadperiodically done madly adventurous things. Perhaps the quality wascoming out in him!

Then he thought of his lady, personally, and not of theextraordinariness of his action. She was exasperatingly attractive. Howdelicious it would be when he had persuaded her to talk to him, taughther to love him, because she certainly must love him--some day! It wasrather cold-blooded of her to be willing to marry him, a stranger; buthe was not going to permit himself to dwell upon that. She could not bereally cold-blooded with that face: its every line bespoke capability ofexquisite passion. It was not the least cunning, or calculating, either. It was simply adorable. And to kiss! But here he pulled himself togetherand wrote to his mother a note, short and to the point, which shereceived by the first post next morning at her small, house in QueenStreet, Mayfair; and then he went to bed. The note ran:

"My Dear Mother:

"I am going to be married at last. The lady is a daughter of MauriceGrey (a brother of old Colonel Grey of Hentingdon who died last year), and the widow of a Pole named Shulski, Countess Shulski she is called. "

(He had paused here because he had suddenly remembered he did not knowher Christian name!)

"She is also the niece of Francis Markrute whom you have such anobjection to--or had, last season. She is most beautiful and I hope youwill like her. Please go and call to-morrow. I will come and breakfastwith you about ten. 

"Your affectionate son, Tancred. "

And this proud English mother knew here was a serious letter, because hesigned it "Tancred. " He usually finished his rare communications withjust, "love from Tristram. "

She leaned back on her pillows and closed her eyes. She adored her sonbut she was, above all things, a woman of the world and given to makingreasonable judgments. Tristram was past the age of a foolishentanglement; there must be some strong motive in this action. He couldhardly be in love. She knew him so well, when he was in love! He hadshown no signs of it lately--not, really, for several years--for thatwell conducted--friendship--with Laura Highford could not be calledbeing in love. Then she thought of Francis Markrute. He was so immenselyrich, she could not help a relieved sigh. There would be money at allevents. But she knew that could not be the reason. She was aware of herson's views about rich wives. She was aware, too, that with all hissporting tastes and modern irreverence of tradition, underneath he wasof a proud, reserved nature, intensely proud of the honor of his ancientname. What then could be the reason for this engagement? Well, she wouldsoon know. It was half-past eight in the morning, and Tristram's "aboutten" would not mean later than, half-past, or a quarter to eleven. Sherang the bell for her maid, and told her to ask the young ladies to puton dressing-gowns and come to her. 

Soon Lord Tancred's two sisters entered the room. 

They were nice, fresh English girls, and stood a good deal in awe oftheir mother. They kissed her and sat down on the bed. They felt it wasa momentous moment, because Lady Tancred never saw any one until herhair was arranged--not even her own daughters. 

"Your brother Tristram is going to be married, " she said and referred tothe letter lying on the coverlet, "to a Countess Shulski, a niece ofthat Mr. Markrute whom one meets about. "

"Oh! Mother!" and "Really!" gasped Emily and Mary. 

"Have we seen her?"

"Do we know her?"

"No, I think we can none of us have seen her. She certainly was not withMr. Markrute at Cowes, and no one has been in town, except this lastweek for Flora's wedding. I suppose Tristram must have met her inScotland, or possibly abroad. He went to Paris, you remember, at Easter, and again in July. "

"I wonder what she is like, " said Emily. 

"Is she young?" asked Mary. 

"Tristram does not say, " replied Lady Tancred, "only that she isbeautiful. "

"We are so surprised, " both girls gasped together. 

"Yes, it is unexpected, certainly, " agreed their mother, "but Tristramhas judgment; he is not likely to have chosen any one of whom I shoulddisapprove. You must be ready to call with me, directly after lunch. Tristram is coming to breakfast, so you can have yours now--in yourroom. I must talk to him. "

And the girls, who were dying to ask a hundred thousand questions, feltthat they were dismissed, and, kissing their dignified parent, theyretired to their own large, back room, which they shared, in commonwith all their pleasures and little griefs, together. 

"Isn't it too wonderful, Em?" Mary said, when they were back there, bothcurled up in the former's bed waiting for their breakfast. "One can seeMother is very much moved; she was so stern. I thought Tristram wasdevoted to Laura Highford, did not you?"

"Oh! he has been sick of that for ages and ages. She nags at him--she isa cat anyway and I never could understand it, could you, Mary?"

"Men have to be like that, " said Mary, wisely, "they must have some one, I mean, to play with, and they are afraid of girls. "

"How I hope she will like us, don't you?" Emily said. "Mr. Markrute isvery rich and perhaps she is, too. How lovely it will be if they areable to live at Wrayth. How lovely to have it opened again--to go andstay there!"

"Yes, indeed, " said Mary. 

Lady Tancred awaited her son in the small front morning-room. She wasquite as much a specimen of an English aristocrat as he was, with herbrushed-back, gray hair, and her beautiful, hard, fine-featured face. She was supremely dignified, and dressed well and with care. She hadbeen brought up in the school which taught the repression of allemotion--now, alas! rapidly passing away--so that she did not even tapher foot from the impatience which was devouring her, and it was nearlyeleven o'clock before Tristram made his appearance!

He apologized charmingly, and kissed her cheek. His horse, Satan, hadbeen particularly fresh, and he had been obliged to give him an extracanter twice round the Row, before coming in, and was breakfastready?--as he was extremely hungry! Yes, breakfast was ready, and theywent into the dining-room where the old butler awaited them. 

"Give me everything, Michelham, " said his lordship, "I am ravenous. Thenyou can go. Her ladyship will pour out the coffee. "

The old servant beamed upon him, with a "glad to see your lordship'swell!" and, surrounding his plate with hot, covered, silver dishes, quietly made his exit, and so they were alone. 

Lady Tancred beamed upon her son, too. She could not help it. He lookedso completely what he ought to look, she thought--magnificently healthyand handsome, and perfectly groomed. No mother could help being proud ofhim. 

"Tristram, dear boy, now tell me all about it, " she said. 

"There is hardly anything to tell you, Mother, except that I am going tobe married about the 25th of October--and--you will be awfully nice toher--to Zara--won't you?" He had taken the precaution to send round anote, early in the morning, to Francis Markrute, asking for his lady'sfull name, as he wished to tell his family; so the "Zara" came out quitenaturally! "She is rather a peculiar person, and--er--has very stiffmanners. You may not like her at first. "

"No, dear?" said Lady Tancred hesitatingly, "Stiff manners you say? Thatat least is on the right side. I always deplore the modernfree-and-easy-ness. "

"Oh, there is nothing free-and-easy about her!" said Tristram, helpinghimself to a cutlet, while he smiled almost grimly. His sense of humorwas highly aroused oven the whole thing; only that overmasteringsomething which drew him was even stronger than this. 

Then he felt that there was no use in allowing his mother to draginformation from him; he had better tell her what he meant her to know. 

"You see, Mother, the whole thing has been arranged rather suddenly. Ionly settled upon it last night myself, and so told you at once. Shewill be awfully rich, which is rather a pity in a sense--though Isuppose we shall live at Wrayth again, and all that--- but I need nottell you I am not marrying her for such a reason. "

"No, I know you, " Lady Tancred said, "but I cannot agree with you aboutits being a pity that she is rich. We live in an age when the oldest andmost honored name is useless without money to keep up its traditions, and any woman would find your title and your position well worth all hergold. There are things you will give her in return which only hundredsof years can produce. You must have no feeling that you are acceptinganything from her which you do not equalize. Remember, it is a falsesentiment. "

"Oh, I expect so--and she is well bred, you know, so she won't throw itin my teeth. " And Lord Tancred smiled. 

"I remember old Colonel Grey, " his mother continued; "years ago he drovea coach; but I don't recollect his brother. Did he live abroad, perhaps?"

This was an awkward question. The young fiancé was quite ignorant abouthis prospective bride's late father!

"Yes, " he said hurriedly. "Zara married very young, she is quite youngnow--only about twenty-three. Her husband was a brute, and now she hascome to live with Francis Markrute. He is an awfully good fellow, Mother, though you don't like him; extremely cultivated, and so quaintlyamusing, with his cynical views on life. You will like him when you knowhim better. He is a jolly good sportsman, too--for a foreigner. "

"And of what nation is Mr. Markrute, Tristram, do you know?" LadyTancred asked. 

Really, all women--even mothers--were tiresome at times with theirquestions!

"'Pon my word, I don't. " And he laughed awkwardly. "Austrian, perhaps, or Russian. I have never thought about it; he speaks English so well, and he is a naturalized Englishman, in any case. "

"But as you are marrying into the family, don't you think it would bemore prudent, dear, to gather some information on the subject?" LadyTancred hazarded. 

And then she saw the true Tancred spirit come out, which she had oftenvainly tried to combat in her husband during her first years of marriedlife, and had desisted in the end. Tristram's strong, level eyebrowsjoined themselves in a frown, and his mouth, clean-shaven and chiseled, shut like a vice. 

"I am going to do what I am going to do, Mother, " he said. "I amsatisfied with my bargain, and I beg of you to accept the situation. Ido not demand any information, and I ask you not to trouble yourselfeither. Nothing any one could say would change me--Give me some morecoffee, will you, please. "

Lady Tancred's hand trembled a little as she poured it out, but she didnot say anything, and there was silence for a minute, while his lordshipwent on with his breakfast, with appetite unimpaired. 

"I will take the girls and call there immediately after lunch, " she saidpresently, "and I am to ask for the Countess Shulski. You pronounce itlike that, do you not?"

"Yes. She may not be in, and in any case, perhaps, for to-day only leavecards. To-morrow or next day I'll go with you, Mother. You see, untilthe announcement comes out in the _Morning Post_, everything is notquite settled--I expect Zara would like it better if you did not meetuntil after then. "

That was probably true, he reflected, since he had not even exchangedpersonal pledges with her yet himself!

Then, as his mother looked stiffly repulsed, his sense of humor got thebetter of him, and he burst into a peal of laughter, while he jumped upand kissed her with the delightful, caressing boyishness which made herlove him with a love so far beyond what she gave to her other children. 

"Darling, " she murmured, "if you are so happy as to laugh like that I amhappy, too, and will do just what you wish. " Her proud eyes filled withmist and she pressed his hand. 

"Mum, you are a trump!" he said, and he kissed her again and, holdingher arm, he led her back into the morning-room. 

"Now I must go and change these things, " he announced, as he looked downat his riding clothes. "I am going to lunch with Markrute in the City todiscuss all the points. So good-bye for the present. I will probably seeyou to-night. Call a taxi, " he said to Michelham who at that moment cameinto the room with a note. He had kissed his mother and was preparing toleave, when just as he got to the door he turned and said:

"Don't say a word to any one, to-day, of the news--let it come out inthe _Morning Post_, to-morrow. I ask it--please?"

"Not even to Cyril? You have forgotten that he is coming up from UncleCharles' to go back to Eton, " his mother said, "and the girls alreadyknow. "

"Oh! Cyril. By Jove! I had forgotten! Yes, tell him; he is a first classchap, he'll understand, and, I say"--and he pulled some sovereigns fromhis pocket--"do give him these from me for this term. "

Then with a smile he went. 

And a few minutes afterwards a small, slender boy of fourteen, with onlyEton's own inimitable self-confidence and delicious swagger printed uponhis every line, drove up to the door, and, paying for the taxi in alordly way, came into his mother's morning-room. There had been a gap inthe family after Tristram's appearance, caused by the death, fromdiphtheria, of two other boys; then came the two girls of twenty andnineteen respectively and, lastly, Cyril. 

His big, blue eyes rounded with astonishment and interest when he heardthe important news. All he said was:

"Well, she must be a corker, if Tristram thinks her good enough. Butwhat a beastly nuisance! He won't go to Canada now, I suppose, and weshan't have that ranch. "

CHAPTER VI

Francis Markrute also saw his niece at breakfast--or rather--just afterit. She was finishing hers in the little upstairs sitting-room which hehad allotted to her for her personal use, when he tapped at the door andasked if he might come in. 

She said "yes, " and then rose, with the ceremonious politeness shealways used in her dealings with him--contemptuous, resentful politenessfor the most part. 

"I have come to settle the details of your marriage, " he said, while hewaved her to be seated again and took a chair himself. At the word"marriage" her nostrils quivered, but she said nothing. She was alwaysextremely difficult to deal with, on account of these silences of hers. She helped no one out. Francis Markrute knew the method himself andadmired it; it always made the other person state his case. 

"You saw Lord Tancred last night. You can have no objection to him onthe ground of his person, and he is a very great gentleman, my niece, asyou will find. "

Still silence. 

"I have arranged with him for you to be married in October--about the25th, I suppose. So now comes the question of your trousseau. You musthave clothes to fit you for so great a position. You had better get themin Paris. " Then he paused, struck by the fact which he had only justnoticed, that the garments she had been wearing and those she now worewere shabby enough. He realized the reason he had not before remarkedthis--her splendid carriage and air of breeding--and it gave him athrill of pride in her. After all, she was his own niece. 

"It will be a very great joy to dress you splendidly, " he said. "I wouldhave done so always, if I had not known where the money would go; but weare going to settle all that now, and every one can be happy. "

It was not in her nature to beg and try to secure favors for her brotherand Mimo without paying for them. She had agreed upon theprice--herself. Now all she had to do was to obtain as much as possiblefor this. 

"Mirko's cough has come back again, " she said quietly. "Since I haveconsented I want him to be able to go into the warmth without delay. They are here in London now--he and his father--in a very poor place. "

"I have thought it all out, " Francis Markrute answered while he frowned, as he always did, at the mention of Mimo. "There is a wonderfully cleverdoctor at Bournemouth where the air is perfect for those delicate in thelungs. I have communicated with him; and he will take the child into hisown house, where he will be beautifully cared for. There he can have atutor, and when he is stronger he can return to Paris, or to Vienna, andhave his talent for the violin cultivated. I want you to understand, " hecontinued, "that if you agree to my terms your brother will not bestinted in any way. "

And her thoughts said, "And Mimo?" but she felt it wiser not to askanything about him just then. To have Mirko cared for by a really cleverdoctor, in good air, with some discipline as to bedtime, and not thoseunwholesome meals, snatched at odd hours at some restaurant, seemed awonderfully good thing. If the little fellow would only be happyseparated from his father; that was the question!

"Are there children in the house?" she asked. Mirko was peculiar, anddid not like other little boys. 

"The doctor has an only little girl of about your brother's age. He isnine and a half, is it not so? And she is delicate, too, so they couldplay together. "

This sounded more promising. 

"I would wish to go down and see the doctor first--and the home, " shesaid. 

"You shall do so, of course, when you like. I will set aside a certainsum every year, to be invested for him, so that when he grows up he willhave a competence--even a small fortune. I will have a deed drawn outfor you to sign; it shall be all _en règle_. "

"That is well, " she said. "And now give me some money, please, that Imay relieve their present necessities until my brother can go to thisplace. I do not consent to give myself, unless I am certain that I freethose I love from anxieties. I should like, immediately, a thousandfrancs. Forty pounds of your money, isn't it?"

"I will send the notes up in a few minutes, " Francis Markrute said. Hewas in the best of tempers to-day. "Meanwhile, that part of thearrangement being settled, I must ask you to pay some attention to thethought of seeing your fiancé. "

"I do not wish to see him, " she announced. 

Her uncle smiled. 

"Possibly not, but it is part of the bargain. You can't marry the manwithout seeing him. He will come and call upon you this afternoon, and, no doubt, will bring you a ring. I trust to your honor not to show soplainly your dislike that no man could carry through his side. Pleaseremember your brother's welfare depends upon your actual marriage. Ifyou cause Lord Tancred to break off the match the bargain between youand me is void. "

The black panther's look again appeared in her eyes, and an icystillness settled upon her. But she began to speak rather fast, with acatch in the breath between the sentences. 

"Then, since you wish this so much for your own ends, which I cannotguess, I tell you, arrange for me to go to Paris, alone, away from him, until the wedding day. He must hate the thought as much as I do. We areprobably both only marionettes in your hands. Explain to the man that Iwill not go through the degradation of the pretence of an engagement, especially here in this England, where, _Maman_ said, they paradeaffections, and fiancés are lovers. _Mon Dieu!_ I will play my part--forthe visits of ceremony to his family, which I suppose must take placeeven here--but beyond that, after to-day, I will not see him alone norhave any communication with him. Is it understood?"

Francis Markrute looked at her with growing admiration. She wasgorgeously attractive in this mood. He obtained endless pleasure out oflife by his habit of abstract observation. He was able to watch peoplein the throes of emotion, like a master seeing his hunters being putthrough their paces. 

"It shall be understood, " he said. He knew it was wiser to insist uponno more; her temper would never brook it. He knew he could count uponher honor and her pride to fulfill her part of the bargain if she werenot exasperated beyond bearing. 

"I will explain everything to Lord Tancred at luncheon, " he said, "thatyou will receive him this afternoon, and that then you are going toParis, and will not return until the wedding. You will concede thefamily interviews that are absolutely necessary, I suppose?"

"I have already said so; only let them be few and short. "

"Then I will not detain you longer now. You are a beautiful woman, Zara, " Francis Markrute said, as he rose and kissed her hand. "None ofthe royal ladies, your ancestresses, ever looked more like a queen. " Andhe bowed himself out of the room, leaving her in her silence. 

When she was alone she clenched her hands and walked up and down for afew moments, and her whole serpentine body writhed with passionate angerand pain. 

Yes, she was a beautiful woman, and had a right to her life and joyslike another--and now she was to be tied, and bound again to a husband!

_"Les Infâmes!"_ she hissed aloud. "But for that part, I will not bearit! Until the wedding I will dissemble as best I can--but afterwards--!"

And if Lord Tancred could have seen her then he would have known thatall the courage he had used when he faced the big lion would be neededsoon again. 

But before a servant brought up the envelope with the notes she hadcalmed herself and was preparing to go out. The good part of the newsmust be told to the two poor ones in their Tottenham Court Road retreat. 

As she sped along in the taxi--her uncle had placed one of his severalmotors at her disposal, but it was not for such localities--she arguedwith herself that it would be wiser not to give Mimo all the money atonce. She knew that that would mean not only the necessary, instantaneous move to a better lodging, but an expensive dinner at thenearest restaurant as well, and certainly bonbons and small presents forMirko, and new clothes; twice as much would be spent, if credit could beobtained; and then there would be the worry of the bills and theanxiety. If only Mirko would consent to be parted from his fond andirresponsible parent for a time it would be so much better for hishealth, and his chance of becoming of some use in the world. Mimo alwaysmeant so kindly and behaved so foolishly! With the money she personallywould get for her bargain Mimo should, somehow, be made comfortable insome studio in Paris where he could paint those pictures which would notsell, and might see his friends--he had still a few who, when hisclothes were in a sufficiently good state, welcomed him and hischarming, debonair smile. Mimo could be a delightfully agreeable guest, even though he was changed by years and poverty. 

And Mirko would be in healthy surroundings; surely it was worth it, after all!

The taxi drew up in the mean street and she got out, paid the man, andthen knocked at the dingy door. 

A slatternly, miserable, little general servant opened it. No, theforeign gentleman and the little boy were not in, they said they wouldbe back in a few minutes--would the lady step up and wait? She followedthe lumpy, untidy figure upstairs to a large attic at the top. It wasalways let as a studio, apparently. It had a fine northern light from abig window, and was quite clean, though the wretched furniture spoke ofbetter days. 

Cleanliness was one of Count Sykypri's peculiarities; he always keptwhatever room he was in tidy and clean. This orderly instinct seemed atvariance with all the rest of his easy-going character. It was thefastidiousness of a gentleman, which never deserted him. Now Zararecognized the old traveling rug hung on two easels, to hide the littleiron beds where he and Mirko slept. The new wonder, which would be boundto sell, was begun there on a third easel. It did not look extremelypromising at its present stage. Mirko's violin and his father's, intheir cases, were on a chair beside a small pile of music; the water-jughad in it a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums probably bought off a barrow. 

The Countess Shulski had been through many vicissitudes with these twosince her husband's death, but seldom--only once perhaps--had they gonedown to such poverty-stricken surroundings. Generally it was some smallapartment in Paris, or Florence, that they occupied, with rather scantymeals when the end of the quarter came. During Count Shulski's life shehad always either lived in some smart villa at Nice, or led a wanderingexistence in hotels; and for months at a time, in later years, when hedisappeared, upon his own pleasures bent, he would leave her in some oldNormandy farmhouse, only too thankful to be free from his hatefulpresence. Here Mimo and Mirko would join her, and while they painted andplayed, she would read. Her whole inner life was spent with books. Amongthe shady society her husband had frequented she had been known as "TheStone. " She never unbent, and while her beauty and extraordinary typeattracted all the men she came across they soon gave up their pursuit. She was quite hopeless, they said--and half-witted, some added! No womancould sit silent like that for hours, otherwise. Zara thought of allthese things, as she sat on the rickety chair in the Neville Streetlodging. How she had loathed that whole atmosphere! How she loathedbohemians and adventurers, no words could tell. 

While her mother had lived there had been none of them about. For allher personal downfall, Elinka, Markrute's sister, and an emperor'sdaughter, remained an absolute _grande dame_--never mixing or minglingwith any people but her own belongings. 

But now that she was dead, poor Mimo had sometimes gone for company intoa class other than his own. 

As yet Zara's thoughts had not turned upon her new existence which wasto be. She had drawn a curtain over it in her mind. She knew but vaguelyabout life in England, she had never had any English friends. One or twogamblers had often come to the Nice villa, but except that they werebetter looking types and wore well made clothes, she had classed themwith the rest of her husband's acquaintances. She had read numbers ofEnglish classics but practically no novels, so she could not very wellpicture a state of things she was ignorant about. Sufficient for the daywas the evil thereof. 

She was getting slightly impatient when at last the two came in. 

They had been told of her arrival; she knew that by their glad, hurriedmounting of the stairs and the quick opening of the door. 

"Chérisette, Angel! But what joy!" And Mirko hurled himself into herarms, while Mimo kissed her hand. He never forgot his early palacemanners. 

"I have brought you good news, " she said, as she drew out two ten-poundnotes. "I have made my uncle see reason. Here is something for thepresent. He has such a kind and happy scheme for Mirko's health. Listen, and I will tell you about it. "

They clustered around her while she explained in the most attractivemanner she could the picture of the boy's future, but in spite of allthat, his beautiful little face fell as he grasped that he was to leavehis father. 

"It will only be for a time, darling, " Zara said, "just until you getquite well and strong, and learn some lessons. All little boys go toschool, and come home for the holidays. You know _Maman_ would havewished you to be educated like a gentleman. "

"But I hate other boys, and you have taught me so well. Oh! Chérisette, what shall I do? And to whom play my violin, who will understand?"

"Oh, but Mirko mio, it is a splendid offer! Think, dear child, acomfortable home and no anxieties, " Mimo said. "Truly your sister is anangel, and you must not be so ungrateful. Your cough will get quitewell; perhaps I can come and lodge in the town, and we could walktogether. "

But Mirko pouted. Zara sighed and clasped her hands. 

"If you only knew how hard it has been to obtain this much, " she said, with despair in her voice. "Oh, Mirko, if you love me you will acceptit! Can't you trust me that I would not ask you to go where they arehard or cruel? I am going down to the place to-morrow, to see it andjudge for myself. Won't you be good and try to please me?"

Then the little cripple fell to sobbing and kissing her, nestling in herarms with his curly head against her neck. 

But in the end she comforted him, the never varying gentleness towardhim which she showed would have soothed the most peevish invalid. 

So at last she was able to feel that her sacrifice, of which they mustalways remain ignorant, would not be all in vain; Mirko appearedreconciled to his fate, and would certainly benefit by more healthysurroundings. Instinct told her there would be no use even suggesting toher uncle that the child should stay with Mimo, the situation would havebecome an _impasse_ if the boy had held out, and between them they wouldhave had only this forty pounds until Christmas--and then very littlemore--and the life of hand-to-mouth poverty would have gone on and on, while here were comfort and probable health, with a certainty ofwelfare, and education, and a competence in the future. And who knowsbut Mirko might grow into a great artist one day!

This possible picture she painted in glowing colors until the child'spathetic, dark eyes glistened with pleasure. 

Then she became practical; they must change their lodging and find abetter one. But here Mimo interfered. They were really very comfortablewhere they were, he urged, humble though it looked, and changing wasunpleasant. If they were able to buy some linen sheets and a new suit ofclothes for each it would be much better to stay for the present, untilMirko's going to Bournemouth should be completely settled. "And eventhen, " Count Sykypri said, "it will do for me. No one cooks garlic here, and there is no canary!"

CHAPTER VII

Neither Lord Tancred nor Francis Markrute was late at the appointment inthe city restaurant where they were to lunch, and they were soon seatedat a table in a corner where they could talk without being interrupted. They spoke of ordinary things for a moment. Then Lord Tancred'simpatience to get at the matter which interested him became too great towait longer, so he said laconically:

"Well?"

"I saw her this morning and had a talk"--the financier said, as heplaced some caviare on his toast. "You must not overlook the fact, whichI have already stated to you, that she is a most difficult problem. Youwill have an interesting time taming her. For a man of nerve, I cannotimagine a more thrilling task. She is a woman who has restricted all heremotion for men, and could lavish it all upon _the_ man, I imagine. Inany case that is 'up to you, ' as our friends, the Americans, say--"

Lord Tancred thrilled as he answered:

"Yes, it shall be 'up to me. ' But I want to find out all about her formyself. I just want to know when I may see her, and what is theprogramme?"

"The programme is that she will receive you this afternoon, abouttea-time, I should say; that you must explain to her you realize you areengaged. You need not ask her to marry you; she will not care fordetails like that--she knows it is already settled. Be as businesslikeas you can--and come away. She has made it a condition that she sees youas little as possible until the wedding. The English idea of engagedcouples shocks her, for, remember, it is, on her side, not a love-match. If you wish to have the slightest success with her afterwards be careful_now_. She is going to Paris, immediately, for her trousseau. She willreturn about a week before the wedding, when you can present her to yourfamily. "

Tristram smiled grimly and then the two men's eyes met and they bothlaughed. 

"Jove! Francis!" Lord Tancred exclaimed, "isn't it a wonderful affair! Areal dramatic romance, here in the twentieth century. Would not everyone think I was mad, if they knew!"

"It is that sort of madmen who are often the sanest, " Francis Markruteanswered. "The world is full of apparently sane fools. " Then he passedon to a further subject. "You will re-open Wrayth, of course, " he said. "I wish my niece to be a Queen of Society, and to have her whole lifearranged with due state. I wish your family to understand that Iappreciate the honor of the connection with them, and consider it aprivilege, and a perfectly natural thing--since we are foreigners ofwhom you know nothing--that we should provide the necessary money forwhat we wish. "

Lord Tancred listened; he thought of his mother's similar argument atbreakfast. 

"You see, " the financier went on reflectively, "in life, the wise manalways pays willingly for what he really wants, as you are doing, forinstance, in your blind taking of my niece. Your old nobility in Englandis the only one of any consequence left in the world. The othercountries' system of the titles descending to all the younger sons, _adinfinitum_, makes the whole thing a farce after a while. A Prince in theCaucasus is as common as a Colonel in Kentucky, and in Austria andGermany there are poor Barons in the streets. There was a time in mylife when I could have had a foreign title, but I found it ridiculous, and so refused it. But in England, in spite of your amusing radicalismthe real thing still counts. It is a valid asset--a tangible securityfor one's money--from a business point of view. And Americans orforeigners like myself and my niece, for instance, are securingsubstantial property and equal return, when we bring large fortunes inour marriage settlements to this country. What satisfaction comparableto the glory of her English position as Marchioness of Darrowood couldMiss Clara D. Woggenheimer have got out of her millions, if she hadmarried one of her own countrymen, or an Italian count? Yet she givesherself the airs of a benefactress to poor Darrowood and throws hermoney in his teeth, whereas Darrowood is the benefactor, if there is acase of it either way. But to me, a sensible business man, the bargainis equal. You don't go to an art dealer's and buy a very valuableRembrandt for its marketable value, and then, afterwards, jibe at thepicture and reproach the art dealer. Money is no good without position, and here in England you have had such hundreds of years of freedom frominvasion, that you have had time, which no other country has had, toperfect your social system. Let the Radicals and the uninformed of otherlands rail as they will, your English aristocracy is the finest body ofthinkers and livers in the world. One hears ever of the black sheep, thefew luridly glaring failures, but never of the hundreds of great andnoble lives which are England's strength. "

"By Jove!" said Lord Tancred, "you ought to be in the House of Lords, Francis! You'd wake them up!"

The financier looked down at his plate; he always lowered his eyes whenhe felt things. No one must ever read what was really passing in hissoul, and when he felt, it was the more difficult to conceal, hereasoned. 

"I am not a snob, my friend, " he said, after a mouthful of salad. "Ihave no worship for aristocracy in the abstract; I am a student, arather careful student of systems and their results, and, incidentally, a breeder of thoroughbred live stock, too, which helps one'sconclusions: and above all I am an interested watcher of the progress ofevolution. "

"You are abominably clever, " said Lord Tancred. 

"Think of your uncle, the Duke of Glastonbury, " the financier went on. "He fulfills his duties in every way, a munificent landlord, and asound, level-headed politician: what other country or class couldproduce such as he?"

"Oh, the Duke's all right, " his nephew agreed. "He is a bit hard up likea number of us at times, but he keeps the thing going splendidly, and mycousin Ethelrida helps him. She is a brick. But you know her, of course, don't you think so?"

"The Lady Ethelrida seems to me a very perfect young woman, " FrancisMarkrute said, examining his claret through the light. "I wish I knewher better. We have few occasions of meeting; she does not go out verymuch into general society, as you know. "

"Oh, I'll arrange that, if it would interest you. I thought you wereperfectly cynical about and even rather bored with women, " Lord Tancredsaid. 

"I think I told you--was it only yesterday?--that I understood it mightbe possible for a woman to count--I have not time for the ordinaryparrot-chatterers one meets. There are three classes of the speciesfemale: those for the body, those for the brain, and those for both. Thelast are dangerous. The other two merely occupy certain moods in man. Fortunately for us the double combination is rare. "

Lord Tancred longed to ask under which head Francis Markrute placed hisniece, but, of course, he restrained himself. He, personally, felt sureshe would be of the combination; that was her charm. Yes, as he thoughtover things, that was the only really dangerous kind, and he had soseldom met it! Then his imagination suddenly pictured Laura Highfordwith her tiny mouth and pointed teeth. She had a showy little brain, absolutely no heart, and the senses of a cat or a ferret. What part ofhim had she appealed to? Well, thank God, that was over and done with, and he was perfectly free to make his discoveries in regard to Zara, hisfuture wife!

"I tell you what, Francis, " he said presently, after the conversationhad drifted from these topics and cigars and liqueurs had come, "I wouldlike my cousin Ethelrida to meet Countess Shulski pretty soon. I don'tknow why, but I believe the two would get on. "

"There is no use suggesting any meetings until my niece returns fromParis, " the financier said. "She will be in a different mood by then. She had not, when she came to England, quite put off her mourning; shewill then have beautiful clothes, and be more acquiescent in every way. Now she would be antagonistic. See her this afternoon and be sensible;make up your mind to postpone things, until her return. And even then becareful until she is your wife!"

Lord Tancred looked disappointed. "It is a long time, " he said. 

"Let me arrange to give a dinner at my house, at which perhaps the Dukeand Lady Ethelrida would honor me by being present, and your mother andsisters and any other member of your family you wish, let us say, on thenight of my niece's return" (he drew a small calendar notebook from hispocket). "That will be Wednesday, the 18th, and we will fix the weddingfor Wednesday the 25th, a week later. That gets you back from yourhoneymoon on the 1st of November; you can stay with me that night, andif your uncle is good enough to include me in the invitation to hisshoot we can all three go down to Montfitchet on the following day. Isall this well? If so I will write it down. "

"Perfectly well, " agreed the prospective bridegroom--and having nonotebook or calendar, he scribbled the reminder for himself on his cuff. Higgins, his superb valet, knew a good deal of his lordship's historyfrom his lordship's cuffs!

"I don't think I shall wait for tea-time, Francis, " he said, when theygot out of the restaurant, into the hall. "I think I'll go now, and getit over, if she will be in. Could I telephone and ask?"

He did so and received the reply from Turner that Countess Shulski wasat home, but could not receive his lordship until half-past fouro'clock. 

"Damn!" said that gentleman as he put the receiver down, and FrancisMarkrute turned away to hide his smile. 

"You had better go and buy an engagement ring, hadn't you?" he said. "Itwon't do to forget that. "

"Good Lord, I had forgotten!" gasped Tristram. 

"Well, I have lots of time to do it now, so I'll go to the familyjewelers, they are called old-fashioned, but the stones are so good. "

So they said good-bye, the young man speeding westwards in a taxi, thelion hunter's excitement thrilling in his veins. 

The financier returned to his stately office and passed through hisobsequious rows of clerks to his inner sanctum. Then he lit anothercigar and gave orders that he was not to be disturbed for a quarter ofan hour. He reposed in a comfortable chair and allowed himself to dream. All his plans were working; there must be no rush. Great emergenciesrequired rush, but to build to the summit of one's ambitions, one mustuse calm and watchful care. 

CHAPTER VIII

Countess Shulski was seated in her uncle's drawing-room when LordTancred was announced. 

It was rather a severe room, purely French, with very little furniture, each piece a priceless work of art. There were no touches of feminineinfluence, no comfortable sofas as in the morning-room or library, allwas stiff, and dignified, and in pure style. 

She had chosen to receive him there, on purpose. She wished the meetingto be short and cold. He came forward, a look of determination upon hishandsome face. 

Zara rose as he advanced, and bowed to him. She did not offer to shakehands, and he let his, which he had half outstretched, drop. She did nothelp him at all; she remained perfectly silent, as usual. She did noteven look at him, but straight out of the window into the pouring rain, and it was then he saw that her eyes were not black but slate. 

"You understand why I have come, of course?" he said by way of abeginning. 

"Yes, " she replied and said nothing more. 

"I want to marry you, you know, " he went on. 

"Really!" she said. 

"Yes, I do. " And he set his teeth--certainly she was difficult!

"That is fortunate for you, since you are going to do so. "

This was not encouraging; it was also unexpected. 

"Yes, I am, " he answered, "on the 25th of October, with yourpermission. "

"I have already consented. " And she clasped her hands. 

"May I sit down beside you and talk?" he asked. 

She pointed to a Louis XVI. _bergère_ which stood opposite, and herselftook a small armchair at the other side of the fire. 

So they sat down, she gazing into the blazing coals and he gazing ather. She was facing the gloomy afternoon light, though she did not thinkout these things like her uncle, so he had a clear and wonderful pictureof her. "How could so voluptuous looking a creature be so icily cold?"he wondered. Her wonderful hair seemed burnished like dark copper, inthe double light of fire and day, and that gardenia skin looked fit toeat. He was thrilled with a mad desire to kiss her; he had never felt sostrong an emotion towards a woman in his life. 

"Your uncle tells me you are going away to-morrow, and that you will beaway until a week before our wedding. I wish you were not going to be, but I suppose you must--for clothes and things. "

"Yes, I must. "

He got up; he could not sit still, he was too wildly excited; he stoodleaning on the mantelpiece, quite close to her, for a moment, his eyesdevouring her with the passionate admiration he felt. She glanced up, and when she saw their expression her jet brows met, while a look ofinfinite disgust crept over her face. 

So it had come--so soon! He was just like all men--a hateful, sensualbeast. She knew he desired to kiss her--to kiss a person he did notknow! Her experience of life had not encouraged her to make the leastallowance for the instinct of man. For her, that whole side of humanbeings was simply revolting. In the far back recesses of her mind sheknew and felt that caresses and such things might be good if oneloved--passionately loved--but in the abstract, just because of theattraction of sex, they were hideous. No man had ever had the concededtip of her little finger, although she had been forced to submit tounspeakable exhibitions of passion from Ladislaus, her husband. 

For her, Tristram appeared a satyr, but she was no timid nymph, but afierce panther ready to defend herself!

He saw her look and drew back--cooled. 

The thing was going to be much more difficult than he had even thought;he must keep himself under complete control, he knew now. So he turnedaway to the window and glanced out on the wet park. 

"My mother called upon you to-day, I believe, " he said. "I asked her notto expect you to be at home. It was only to show you that my family willwelcome you with affection. "

"It is very good of them. "

"The announcement of the engagement will be in the _Morning Post_to-morrow. Do you mind?"

"Why should I mind?" (her voice evinced surprise). "Since it is true, the formalities must take place. "

"It seems as if it could not be true. You are so frightfully frigid, " hesaid with faint resentment. 

"I cannot help how I am, " she said in a tone of extreme hauteur. "I haveconsented to marry you. I will go through with all the necessaryceremonies, the presentations to your family, and such affairs; but Ihave nothing to say to you: why should we talk when once these thingsare settled? You must accept me as I am, or leave me alone--that isall"--and then her temper made her add, in spite of her uncle's warning, "for I do not care!"

He turned now; he was a little angry and nearly flared up, but the sightof her standing there, magnificently attractive, stopped him. This wasmerely one of the phases of the game; he should not allow himself to beworsted by such speeches. 

"I expect you don't, but I do, " he said. "I am quite willing to take youas you are, or will be. "

"Then that is all that need be said, " she answered coldly. "Arrange withmy uncle when you wish me to see your family on my return; I will carryout what he settles. And now I need not detain you, and will saygood-bye. " And bowing to him she walked towards the door. 

"I am sorry you feel you want to go so soon, " he said, as he sprangforward to open it for her, "but good-bye. " And he let her pass withoutshaking hands. 

When he was alone in the room he realized that he had not given her theengagement ring, which still reposed in his pocket!

He looked round for a writing table, and finding one, sat down and wroteher a few words. 

"I meant to give you this ring. If you don't like sapphires it can bechanged. Please wear it, and believe me to be

"Yours, "Tancred. "

He put the note with the little ring-case, inclosed both in a largeenvelope, and then he rang the bell. 

"Send this up to the Countess Shulski, " he said to the footman whopresently came. "And is my motor at the door?"

It was, so he descended the stairs. 

"To Glastonbury House, " he ordered his chauffeur. Then he leaned backagainst the cushions, no look of satisfaction upon his face. 

Ethelrida might be having tea, and she was always so soothing andsympathetic. 

Yes, her ladyship was at home, and he was shown up into his cousin's ownsitting-room. 

Lady Ethelrida Montfitchet had kept house for her father, the Duke ofGlastonbury, ever since she was sixteen when her mother had died, andshe acted as hostess at the ducal parties, with the greatest success. She was about twenty-five now, and one of the sweetest of young women. 

She was very tall, rather plain, and very distinguished. 

Francis Markrute thought her beautiful. He was fond of analyzing typesand breeds, and he said there were those who looked as if they had beenpoured into more or less fine or clumsy mould, and there were others whowere sharply carved as with a knife. He loved a woman's face to look_ciselée_, he said. That is why he did not entirely admire his niece, for although the mould was of the finest in her case, her small nose wasnot chiseled. Numbers of English and some Austrians were chiseled, heaffirmed--showing their race--but very few of other nations. 

Now some people would have said the Lady Ethelrida was too chiseled--shemight grow peaky, with old age. But no one could deny the extremerefinement of the young woman. 

She was strikingly fair, with silvery light hair that had no yellow init; and kind, wise, gray eyes. Her figure in its slenderness was a thingwhich dressmakers adored; there was so little of it that any frock couldbe made to look well on it. 

Lady Ethelrida did everything with moderation. She was not mad about anysport or any fad. She loved her father, her aunt, her cousins of theTancred family, and her friend, Lady Anningford. She was, in short, afine character and a great lady. 

"I have come to tell you such a piece of news, Ethelrida, " Tristram saidas he sat down beside her on the chintz-covered sofa. Ethelrida's tastesin furniture and decorations were of the simplest in her own room. "Guess what it is!"

"How can I, Tristram? Mary is really going to marry Lord Henry?"

"Not that I know of as yet, but I daresay she will, some day. No, guessagain; it is about a marriage. "

She poured him out some tea and indicated the bread and butter. Tristram, she knew, loved her stillroom maid's brown bread and butter. 

"A man, or a woman?" she asked, meditatively. 

"A man--ME!" he said, with reckless grammar. 

"You, Tristram!" Ethelrida exclaimed, with as much excitement as sheever permitted herself. "You going to be married! But to whom?"

The thing seemed too preposterous; and her mind had instantly flown tothe name, Laura Highford, before her reason said, "How ridiculous--sheis married already!"--so she repeated again: "But to whom?"

"I am going to be married to a widow, a niece of Francis Markrute's; youknow him. " Lady Ethelrida nodded. "She is the most wonderfullyattractive creature you ever saw, Ethelrida, a type not like any oneelse. You'll understand in a minute, when you see her. She has stormyblack eyes--no, they are not really black; they are slate color--and redhair, and a white face, and, by Jove! a figure! And do you know, my dearchild, I believe I am awfully in love with her!"

"You only 'believe, ' Tristram! That sounds odd to be going to be marriedupon!" Lady Ethelrida could not help smiling. 

He sipped his tea and then jumped up. He was singularly restless to-day. 

"She is the kind of woman a man would go perfectly mad about when heknew her well. I shall, I know. " Then, as he saw his cousin's humorousexpression, he laughed boyishly. "It does sound odd, I admit, " he said, "the inference is that I don't know her well--and that is just it, Ethelrida, but only to you would I say it. Look here, my dear girl, Ihave got to be comforted this afternoon. She has just flattened me out. We are going to be married on the 25th of October, and I want you to beawfully nice to her. I am sure she has had a rottenly unhappy life. "

"Of course I will, Tristram dear, " said Lady Ethelrida, "but remember, Iam completely in the dark. When did you meet her? Can't you tell mesomething more? Then I will be as sympathetic as you please. "

So Lord Tancred sat down on the sofa beside her again, and told her thebare facts: that it was rather sudden, but he was convinced it was whathe wanted most to do in life; that she was young and beautiful, rich, and very reserved, and rather cold; that she was going away, until aweek before the wedding; that he knew it sounded all mad, but his dearEthelrida was to be a darling, and to understand and not reason withhim!

And she did not. She had gathered enough from this rather incoherentrecital to make her see that some very deep and unusual current musthave touched her cousin's life. She knew the Tancred character, so shesaid all sorts of nice things to him, asked interested but notindiscreet questions. And soon that irritated and baffled sense lefthim, and he became calm. 

"I want Uncle Glastonbury to ask Francis Markrute to the shoot on the2nd of November, Ethelrida, " he said, "and you will let me bringZara--she will be my wife by then--although I was asked only as abachelor?"

"It is my party, not Papa's, you dear old goose, you know that, " LadyEthelrida said. "Of course you shall bring your Zara and I myself willwrite and ask Mr. Markrute. In spite of Aunt Jane's saying that he is acynical foreigner I like him!"

CHAPTER IX

Society was absolutely flabbergasted when it read in the _Morning Post_the announcement of Lord Tancred's engagement! No one had heard a wordabout it. There had been talk of his going to Canada, and much chaffupon that subject--so ridiculous, Tancred emigrating! But of aprospective bride the most gossip-loving busybody at White's had neverheard! It fell like a bombshell. And Lady Highford, as she read thenews, clenched her pointed teeth, and gave a little squeal like a stoat. 

So he had drifted beyond her, after all! He had often warned her hewould, at the finish of one of those scenes she was so fond of creating. It was true then, when he had told her before Cowes that everything mustbe over. She had thought his silence since had only been sulking! Butwho was the creature? "Countess Shulski. " Was it a Polish or Hungarianname? "Daughter of the late Maurice Grey. " Which Grey was that? "Nieceof Francis Markrute, Esquire, of Park Lane. " Here was the reason--money!How disgusting men were! They would sell their souls for money. But thewoman should suffer for this, and Tristram, too, if she could manage it!

Then she wept some tears of rage. He was so adorably good looking andhad been such a feather in her cap, although she had never been reallysure of him. It was a mercy her conduct had always been of such animmaculate character--in public--no one could say a word. And now shemust act the dear, generous, congratulating friend. 

So she had a dose of sal volatile and dressed, with extra care, to lunchat Glastonbury House. There she might hear all the details; onlyEthelrida was so superior, and uninterested in news or gossip. 

There was a party of only five assembled, when she arrived--she wasalways a little late. The Duke and Lady Ethelrida, Constance Radcliffe, and two men: an elderly politician, and another cousin of the family. She could certainly chatter about Tristram, and hear all she could. 

They were no sooner seated than she began:

"Is not this wonderful news about your nephew, Duke? No one expected itof him just now, though I as one of his best friends have been urginghim to marry, for the last two years. Dear Lady Tancred must be soenchanted. "

"I am sure you gave him good counsel, " said the Duke, screwing hiseyeglass which he wore on a long black ribbon into his whimsical oldblue eye. "But Tristram's a tender mouth, and a bit of a bolter--got toride him on the snaffle, not the curb. "

Lady Highford looked down at her plate, while she gave an answer quiteat variance with her own methods. 

"Snaffle or curb, no one would ever try to guide Lord Tancred! And whatis the charming lady like? You all know her, of course?"

"Why, no, " said His Grace. "The uncle, Mr. Markrute, dined here theother night. He's been very useful to the Party, in a quiet way andseems a capital fellow--but Ethelrida and I have never met the niece. Ofcourse, no one has been in town since the season, and she was not herethen. We only came up, like you, for Flora's wedding, and go downto-morrow. "

"This is thrilling!" said Lady Highford. "An unknown bride! Have you noteven heard what she is like--young or old? A widow always sounds soattractive!"

"I am told that she is perfectly beautiful, " said Lady Ethelrida fromthe other side of the table--there had been a pause--"and Tristram seemsso happy. She is quite young, and very rich. "

She had always been amiably friendly and indifferent to Laura Highford. It was Ethelrida's way to have no likes and dislikes for the generalcircle of her friends; her warm attachment was given to so very few, andthe rest were just all of a band. Perhaps if she felt anything definiteit was a tinge on the side of dislike for Laura. Thinking to pleaseTristram at the time she had asked her to this, her birthday party, whenthey had met at Cowes in August, and now she was faced with the problemhow to put her off, since Tristram and his bride would be coming. Shesaw the glint in the light hazel eyes as she described the fiancé andher kind heart at once made her determine to turn the conversation. After all, it was perfectly natural for poor Laura to have been in lovewith Tristram--no one could be more attractive--and, of course, it musthurt her--this marriage. She would reserve the "putting off, " until theyleft the dining-room and she could speak to her alone. So with herperfect tact and easy grace she diverted the current of conversation tothe political situation, and luncheon went on. 

But this was not what Lady Highford had come for. She wanted to heareverything she could about her rival, in order to lay her plans; and themoment Ethelrida was engaged with the politician and the Duke hadturned to Mrs. Radcliffe, she tackled the cousin, in a lower voice. 

He, Jimmy Danvers, had only read what she had, that morning. He had seenTristram at the Turf on Tuesday after lunch--the day beforeyesterday--and he had only talked of Canada--and not a word of a ladythen. It was a bolt from the blue. "And when I telephoned to the old boythis morning, " he said, "and asked him to take me to call upon hisdamsel to-day, he told me she had gone to Paris and would not be backuntil a week before the wedding!"

"How very mysterious!" piped Laura. "Tristram is off to Paris, too, then, I suppose?"

"He did not say; he seemed in the deuce of a hurry and put the receiverdown. "

"He is probably only doing it for money, poor darling boy!" she saidsympathetically. "It was quite necessary for him. "

"Oh, that's not Tristram's measure, " Sir James Danvers interrupted. "He'd never do anything for money. I thought you knew him awfully well, "he added, surprised. Apprehension of situations was not one of hisstrong qualities. 

"Of course I do!" Laura snapped out and then laughed. "But you men!Money would tempt any of you!"

"You may bet your last farthing, Lady Highford, Tristram is inlove--crazy, if you ask me--he'd not have been so silent about it allotherwise. The Canada affair was probably because she was playing thepoor old chap, --and now she's given in; and that, of course, ischucked. "

Money, as the motive, Lady Highford could have borne, but, to hearabout love drove her wild! Her little pink and white face with itscarefully arranged childish setting suddenly looked old and strained, while her eyes grew yellow in the light. 

"They won't be happy long, then!" she said. "Tristram could not befaithful to any one. "

"I don't think he's ever been in love before, so we can't judge, " theblundering cousin continued, now with malice prepense. "He's had lots oflittle affairs, but they have only been 'come and go. '"

Lady Highford crumbled her bread and then turned to the Duke--there wasnothing further to be got out of this quarter. Finally luncheon came toan end, and the three ladies went up to Ethelrida's sitting-room. Mrs. Radcliffe presently took her leave to catch a train, so the two wereleft alone. 

"I am so looking forward to your party, dear Ethelrida, " Lady Highfordcooed. "I am going back to Hampshire to-morrow, but at the end of themonth I come up again and will be with you in Norfolk on the 2nd. "

"I was just wondering, " said Lady Ethelrida, "if, after all, you wouldnot be bored, Laura? Your particular friends, the Sedgeworths, have hadto throw us over--his father being dead. It will be rather a family sortof collection, and not so amusing this year, I am afraid. Em and Mary, Tristram and his new bride, --and Mr. Markrute, the uncle--and the restas I told you. "

"Why, my dear child, it sounds delightful! I shall long to meet the newLady Tancred! Tristram and I are such dear friends, poor darling boy! Imust write and tell him how delighted I am with the news. Do you knowwhere he is at the moment?"

"He is in London, I believe. Then you really will stick to us and not bebored? How sweet of you!" Lady Ethelrida said without a change in herlevel voice while her thoughts ran: "It is very plucky of Laura; or, shehas some plan! In any case I can't prevent her coming now, and perhapsit is best to get it over. But I had better warn Tristram, surprises areso unpleasant. "

Then, after a good deal of gush about "dear Lady Tancred's" prospectivehappiness in having a daughter-in-law, and "dear Tristram, " LadyHighford's motor was announced, and she went. 

And when she had gone Lady Ethelrida sat down and wrote her cousin anote. Just to tell him in case she did not see him before she went backto the country to-morrow that her list, which she enclosed, was made upfor her November party, but if he would like any one else for his brideto meet, he was to say so. She added that some friends had been toluncheon, and among them Laura Highford, who had said the nicest thingsand wished him every happiness. 

Lady Ethelrida was not deceived about these wishes, but she could do nomore. 

The Duke came into her room, just as she was finishing, and warmedhimself by her wood fire. 

"The woman is a cat, Ethelrida, " he said without any preamble. These twounderstood each other so well, they often seemed to begin in the middleof a sentence, of which no outsider could grasp the meaning. 

"I am afraid she is, Papa. I have just been writing to Tristram, to lethim know she still insists upon coming to the shoot. She can't doanything there, and they may as well get it over. She will have to becivil to the new Lady Tancred in our house. "

"Whew!" whistled the Duke, "you may have an exciting party. You hadbetter go and leave our cards to-day on the Countess Shulski, andanother of mine, as well, for the uncle. We'll have to swallow the wholelot, I suppose. "

"I rather like Mr. Markrute, Papa, " Ethelrida said. "I talked to him theother night for the first time; he is extremely intelligent. We oughtnot to be so prejudiced, perhaps, just because he is a foreigner, and inthe City. I've asked him on the 2nd, too--you don't mind? I will leavethe note to-day; Tristram particularly wished it. "

"Then we'll have to make the best of it, pet. I daresay you are right, and one ought not to be prejudiced about anything, in these days. "

And then he patted his daughter's smoothly brushed head, and went outagain. 

Lady Ethelrida drove in the ducal carriage (the Duke insisted upon acarriage, in London), to Park Lane, and was handing her cards to herfootman to leave, when Francis Markrute himself came out of the door. 

His whole face changed; it seemed to grow younger. He was a fairly tallman, and distinguished looking. He came forward and said: "How do youdo, " through the brougham window. 

Alas! his niece had left that morning _en route_ for Paris--_trousseaux_and feminine business, but he was so delighted to have had this chanceof a few words with her--Lady Ethelrida. 

"I was leaving a note to ask you to come and shoot with my father atMontfitchet, Mr. Markrute, " she said, "on the 2nd of November. Tristramsays he hopes they will be back from the honeymoon in time to join us, too. "

"I shall be delighted, and my niece will be delighted at your kindnessin calling so soon. "

Then they said a few more polite things and the financier finishedby:--"I am taking the great liberty of having the book, which I told youabout, rebound--it was in such a tattered condition, I was ashamed tosend it to you--do not think I had forgotten. I hope you will acceptit?"

"I thought you only meant to lend it to me because it is out of printand I cannot buy it. I am so sorry you have had this trouble, " LadyEthelrida said, a little stiffly. "Bring it to the shoot. It willinterest me to see it but you must not give it to me. " And then shesmiled graciously; and he allowed her to say good-bye, and drive on. Andas he turned into Grosvenor Street he mused, "I like her exquisite pride; but she shall take the book--and many otherthings--presently. "

 * * * * *

Meanwhile Zara Shulski had arrived at Bournemouth. She had started earlyin the morning, and she was making a careful investigation of the house. The doctor appeared all that was kind and clever, and his wife gentleand sweet. Mirko could not have a nicer home, it seemed. Their littlegirl was away at her grandmother's for the next six weeks, they said, but would be enchanted to have a little boy companion. Everything wasarranged satisfactorily. Zara stayed the night, and next day, havingwired to Mimo to meet her at the station, she returned to London. 

They talked in the Waterloo waiting-room; poor Mimo seemed so glad andhappy. He saw her and her small bag into a taxi. She was going back toher uncle's, and was to take Mirko down next day, and, on the followingone, start for Paris. 

"But I can't go back to Park Lane without seeing Mirko, now, " she said. "I did not tell my uncle what train I was returning by. There is plentyof time so I will go and have tea with you at Neville Street. It will belike old times, we will get some cakes and other things on the way, andboil the kettle on the fire. "

So Mimo gladly got in with her and they started. He had a new suit ofclothes and a new felt hat, and looked a wonderfully handsome foreigngentleman; his manner to women was always courteous and gallant. Zarasmiled and looked almost happy, as they arranged the details of theirsurprise tea party for Mirko. 

At that moment there passed them in Whitehall a motorcar going veryfast, the occupant of which, a handsome young man, caught the mostfleeting glimpse of them--hardly enough to be certain he recognizedZara. But it gave him a great start and a thrill. 

"It cannot be she, " he said to himself, "she went to Paris yesterday;but if it is--who is the man?"

He altered his plans, went back to his rooms, and sat moodily down inhis favorite chair--an unpleasant, gnawing uncertainty in his heart. 

CHAPTER X

Mirko, crouched up by the smoldering fire, was playing the _ChansonTriste_ on his violin when the two reached the studio. He had awonderful talent--of that there was no doubt--but his health had alwaysbeen too delicate to stand any continuous study. Nor had the means ofthe family ever been in a sufficiently prosperous condition, in lateryears, to procure a really good master. But the touch and soul of thestrange little fellow sounded in every wailing note. He always playedthe _Chanson Triste_ when he was sad and lonely. He had been nearlyseven when his mother died, and he remembered her vividly. She had soloved Tschaikovsky's music, and this piece especially. He had played itto her--from ear then--the afternoon she lay dying, and for him, as forthem all, it was indissolubly connected with her memory. The tears wereslowly trickling down Mirko's cheeks. He was going to be taken away fromhis father, his much loved Chérisette would not be near him, and hefeared and hated strangers. 

He felt he was talking to his mother with his bow. His mother who was inheaven, with all the saints and angels. What could it be like up there?It was perhaps a forest, such as Fontainebleau, only there were sure tobe numbers of birds which sang like the nightingales in the BorgheseGardens--there would be no canaries! The sun always shone and _Maman_would wear a beautiful dress of blue gauze with wings, and her lovelyhair, which was fair, not red like Chérisette's, would be all hangingdown. It surely was a very desirable place, and quite different from theNeville Street lodging. Why could he not get there, out of the cold anddarkness? Chérisette had always taught him that God was so good and kindto little boys who had crippled backs. He would ask God with all theforce of his music, to take him there to _Maman_. 

The sound of the familiar air struck a chill note upon Mimo and Zara, asthey came up the stairs; it made them hasten their steps--they knew verywell what mood it meant with the child. 

He was so far away, in his passionate dream-prayer, that he did not hearthem coming until they opened the door; and then he looked up, hisbeautiful dark eyes all wet with tears which suddenly turned to joy whenhe saw his sister. 

"_Chérisette adorée_!" he cried, and was soon in her arms, soothed andcomforted and caressed. Oh, if he could always be with her, he really, after all, would wish for no other heaven!

"We are going to have such a picnic!" Zara told him. "Papa and I havebrought a new tablecloth, and some pretty cups and saucers, and spoons, and knives, and forks--and see! such buns! English buns for you totoast, Mirko mio! You must be the little cook, while I lay the table. "

And the child clapped his hands with glee and helped to take the papersoff; he stroked the pretty roses on the china with his delicate, littleforefinger--he had Mimo's caressing ways with everything he admired andloved. He had never broken his toys, as other children do; accidentalcatastrophes to them had always caused him pain and weeping. And thesebright, new flowery cups should be his special care, to wash, and dry, and guard. 

He grew merry as a cricket, and his laughter pealed over the paper capMimo made for him and the towel his sister had for an apron. They wereto be the servants, and Mimo a lordly guest. 

And soon the table was laid, and the buns toasted and buttered; Zara hadeven bought a vase of the same china, in which she placed a bunch ofautumn red roses, to match those painted on it and this was a particularjoy. 

"The Apache, " which had not yet found a purchaser, stood on one easel, and from it the traveling rug hung to the other, concealing allunsightly things, and yesterday Mimo had bought from the Tottenham CourtRoad a cheap basket armchair with bright cretonne cushions. And really, with the flowers and the blazing fire when they sat down to tea it alllooked very cozy and home-like. 

What would her uncle or Lord Tancred have thought, could they have seenthose tempestuous eyes of Zara's glistening and tender--and soft as adove's!

After tea she sat in the basket chair, and took Mirko in her arms, andtold him all about the delightful, new home he was going to, the kindlady, and the beautiful view of the sea he would get from his bedroomwindows; how pretty and fresh it all looked, how there were pine woodsto walk in, and how she would--presently--come down to see him. And asshe said this her thoughts flew to her own fate--what would her"presently" be? And she gave a little, unconscious shiver almost offear. 

"What hast thou, Chérisette?" said Mirko. "Where were thy thoughtsthen?--not here?"

"No, not here, little one. Thy Chérisette is going also to a new home;some day thou must visit her there. "

But when he questioned and implored her to tell him about it sheanswered vaguely, and tried to divert his thoughts, until he said:

"It is not to _Maman_ in heaven, is it, dear Chérisette? Because there, there would be enough place for us both--and surely thou couldst take metoo?"

 * * * * *

When she got back to Park Lane, and entered her uncle's library he wassitting at the writing table, the telephone in his hand. He welcomed herwith his eyes and went on speaking, while she took a chair. 

"Yes, do come and dine. --May you see her if by chance she did not go toParis?" He looked up at Zara, who frowned. "No--she is very tired andhas gone to her room for the evening. --She has been in the countryto-day, seeing some friends. --No--not to-morrow--she goes to the countryagain, and to Paris the following night--To the station? I will ask her, but perhaps she is like me, and dislikes being seen off, " then alaugh, --and then, "All right--well, come and dine at eight--good-bye. "The financier put the receiver down and looked at his niece, a whimsicalsmile in his eyes. 

"Well, " he said, "your fiancé is very anxious to see you, it seems. Whatdo you say?"

"Certainly not!" she flashed. "I thought it was understood; he shall notcome to the train. I will go by another if he insists. "

"He won't insist; tell me of your day?"

She calmed herself--her face had grown stormy. 

"I am quite satisfied with the home you have chosen for Mirko and willtake him there to-morrow. All the clothes have come that you said Imight order for him, and I hope and think he will be comfortable andhappy. He has a very beautiful, tender nature, and a great talent. If hecould only grow strong, and more balanced! Perhaps he will, in thiscalm, English air. "

Francis Markrute's face changed, as it always did with the mention anddiscussion of Mirko--whose presence in the world was an ever-ranklingproof of his loved sister's disgrace. All his sense of justice--and hewas in general a just man--could never reconcile him to the idea of everseeing or recognizing the child. "The sins of the fathers"--was hiscreed and he never forgot the dying Emperor's words. He had lost sightof his niece for nearly two years after his sister's death. She hadwished for no communication with him, believing then that he had lefther mother to die without forgiveness, and it was not until he happenedto read in a foreign paper the casual mention of Count Shulski's murder, and so guessed at Zara's whereabouts, that a correspondence had beenopened again, and he was able to explain that he had been absent inAfrica and had not received any letters. 

He then offered her his protection and a home, if she would sever allconnection with the two, Mimo and Mirko, and she had indignantlyrefused. And it was only when they were in dire poverty, and he hadagain written asking his niece to come and stay with him for a fewweeks, this time with no conditions attached, that she had consented, thinking that perhaps she would be able in some way to benefit them. 

But now that she looked at him she felt keenly how he had trapped her, all the same. 

"We will not discuss your brother's nature, " he said, coldly. "I willkeep my side of the bargain scrupulously, for all material things; thatis all you can expect of me. Now let us talk of yourself. I haveventured to send some sables for your inspection up to your sitting room;it will be cold traveling. I hope you will select what you wish. Andremember, I desire you to order the most complete trousseau in Paris, everything that a great lady could possibly want for visits andentertainments; and you must secure a good maid there, and return withall the _apanages_ of your position. "

She bowed, as at the reception of an order. She did not thank him. 

"I will not give you any advice what to get, " he went on. "Your ownadmirable taste will direct you. I understand that in the days of yourlate husband you were a beautifully dressed woman, so you will know allthe best places to go to. But please to remember, while I give youunlimited resources for you to do what I wish, I trust to your honorthat you will bestow none of them upon the--man Sykypri. The bargain isabout the child; the father is barred from it in every way. "

Zara did not answer, she had guessed this, but Mirko's welfare was offirst importance. With strict economy Mimo could live upon what hepossessed, if alone and if he chose to curtail his irresponsiblegenerosities. 

"Do I understand I have your word of honor about this?" her uncledemanded. 

Her empress' air showed plainly now. She arose from the chair and stoodhaughtily drawn up:

"You know me and whether my spoken word 'is required or no, " she said, "but if it will be any satisfaction to you to have it I give it!"

"Good--Then things are settled, and, I hope, to the happiness of allparties. "

"Happiness!" she answered bitterly. "Who is ever happy?" Then she turnedto go, but he arrested her. 

"In two or three years' time you will admit to me that you know of fourhuman beings who are ideally happy. " And with this enigmaticannouncement ringing in her ears, she went on up the stairs to hersitting-room. 

Who were the _four_ people? Herself and himself and Mimo and Mirko? Wasit possible that after all his hardness towards them he meant to beeventually kind? Or was the fourth person not Mimo, but her futurehusband? Then she smiled grimly. It was not very likely _he_ would behappy--a beast, like the rest of men, who, marrying her only for heruncle's money, having been ready to marry her for that when he had nevereven seen her--was yet full enough of the revolting quality of his sexto be desirous now to kiss her and clasp her in his arms!

As far as she was concerned he would have no happiness!

And she herself--what would the new life mean? It appeared a blank--anabyss. A dark curtain seemed to overhang and cover it. All she couldfeel was that Mirko was being cared for, that she was keeping her wordto her adored mother. She would fulfill to the letter her uncle's wishesas to her suitable equipments, but beyond that she refused to think. 

All the evening, when she had finished her short, solitary dinner, sheplayed the piano in her sitting-room, her white fingers passing from onedivine air to another, until at last she unconsciously drifted to the_Chanson Triste_, and Mirko's words came back to her:

"There, there would be enough place for us both"--Who knows--that mightbe the end of it!

And the two men heard the distant wail of the last notes as they cameout of the dining-room, and, while it made the financier uncomfortable, it caused Tristram a sharp stab of pain. 

CHAPTER XI

The next three weeks passed for Lord Tancred in continuously growingexcitement. He had much business to see to for the reopening of Wraythwhich had been closed for the past two years. He had decided to let Zarachoose her own rooms, and decorate them as she pleased, when she shouldget there. But the big state apartments, with their tapestry andpictures, would remain untouched. 

It gave him infinite pleasure--the thought of living at his old houseonce again--and it touched him to see the joy of the village and all theold keepers and gardeners who had been pensioned off! He found himselfwondering all sorts of things--if he would have a son some day soon, toinherit it all. Each wood and broad meadow seemed to take on newinterest and significance from this thought. 

His home was so very dear to him though he had drilled himself into aseeming indifference. The great, round tower of the original Norman keepwas still there, connected with the walls of the later house, a large, wandering edifice built at all periods from that epoch upwards, andculminating in a shocking early-Victorian Gothic wing and porch. 

"I think we shall pull that wretched bit down some time, " he said tohimself. "Zara must have good taste--she could not look so well in herclothes, if she had not. "

His thoughts were continually for her, and what she would be likely towish; and, in the evening, when he sat alone in his own sanctum after ahard day with electricians and work-people, he would gaze into theblazing logs and dream. 

The new electric light was not installed yet, and only the big, oldlamps lit the shadowy oak panelling. There in a niche beside thefireplace was the suit of armor which another Tristram Guiscard had wornat Agincourt. What little chaps they had been in those days incomparison with himself and his six feet two inches! But they had beengreat lords, his ancestors, and he, too, would be worthy of the race. There were no wars just now to go to and fight for his country--but hewould fight for his order, with his uncle, the Duke, that splendid, oldspecimen of the hereditary legislator. Francis Markrute who was a goodjudge had said that he had made some decent speeches in the House ofLords already, and he would go on and do his best, and Zara would helphim. He wondered if she liked reading and poetry. He was such amagnificently healthy sportsman he had always been a little shy ofletting people know his inner and gentler tastes. He hoped so much shewould care for the books he did. There was a deep strain of romance inhis nature, undreamed of by such women as Laura Highford, and theseevenings--alone, musing and growing in love with a phantom--drew itforth. 

His plan was to go to Paris--to the Ritz--for the honeymoon. Zara whodid not know England would probably hate the solemn servants staring ather in those early days if he took her to Orton, one of the Duke'splaces which he had offered him for the blissful week. Paris was muchbetter--they could go to the theater there--because he knew it would notall be plain sailing by any means! And every time he thought of thataspect, his keen, blue eyes sparkled with the instinct of the chase andhe looked the image of the Baron Tancred who, carved in stone, with hisCrusader's crossed feet, reposed in state in the church of Wrayth. 

A lissom, wiry, splendid English aristocrat, in perfect condition andhealth, was Tristram Guiscard, twenty-fourth Baron Tancred, as helounged in his chair before the fire and dreamed of his lady and hisfate. 

And when they were used to one another--at the end of the week--therewould be the party at Montfitchet where he would have the joy and prideof showing his beautiful wife--and Laura would be there;--he suddenlythought of her. Poor old Laura! she had been awfully nice about it andhad written him the sweetest letter. He would not have believed hercapable of it--and he felt so kindly disposed towards her--little as shedeserved it if he had only known!

Then when these gayeties were over, he and Zara would come here toWrayth! And he could not help picturing how he would make love to her inthis romantic setting; and perhaps soon she, too, would love him. Whenhe got thus far in his picturings he would shut his eyes, stretch outhis long limbs, and call to Jake, his solemn bulldog, and pat hiswrinkled head. 

And Zara, in Paris, was more tranquil in mind than was her wont. Mirkohad not made much difficulty about going to Bournemouth. Everything wasso pretty, the day she took him there, the sun shining gayly and the seaalmost as blue as the Mediterranean, and Mrs. Morley, the doctor's wife, had been so gentle and sweet, and had drawn him to her heart at once, and petted him, and talked of his violin. The doctor had examined hislungs and said they certainly might improve with plenty of the fine airif he were very carefully fed and tended, and not allowed to catch cold. 

The parting with poor Mimo had been very moving. They had said good-byeto him in the Neville Street lodging, as Zara thought it was wiser notto risk a scene at the station. The father and son had kissed andclasped one another and both wept, and Mimo had promised to come to seehim soon, soon!

Then there had been another painful wrench when she herself leftBournemouth. She had put off her departure until the afternoon of thefollowing day. Mirko had tried to be as brave as he could; but thememory of the pathetic little figure, as she saw it waving a hand to herfrom the window, made those rare tears brim up and splash on her glove, as she sat in the train. 

In her short life with its many moments of deep anguish she had seldombeen able to cry; there were always others to be thought of first, andan iron self-control was one of her inheritances from her grandfather, the Emperor, just as that voluptuous, undulating grace, and the red, lustrous hair, came from the beautiful opera dancer and great artiste, her grandmother. 

She had cautioned Mrs. Morley, if she should often hear Mirko playingthe _Chanson Triste_, to let her know, and she would come to him. It wasa sure indication of his state of mind. And Mrs. Morley, who had read inthe _Morning Post_ the announcement of her approaching marriage, askedher where she could be found, and Zara had stiffened suddenly andsaid--at her uncle's house in Park Lane, the letters to be marked "To beforwarded immediately. "

And when she had gone, Mrs. Morley had told her sister who had come into tea how beautiful Countess Shulski was and how very regal looking, "but she had on such plain, almost shabby, black clothes, Minnie dear, and a small black toque, and then the most splendid sable wrap--thosevery grand people do have funny tastes, don't they? I should have likeda pretty autumn costume of green velveteen, and a hat with a wing or abird. "

The financier had insisted upon his niece wearing the sable wrap--andsomehow, in spite of all things, the beautiful, dark, soft fur had givenher pleasure. 

And now, three weeks later, she was just returning from Paris, herbeauty enriched by all that money and taste could procure. It was theeighteenth of October, exactly a week before her wedding. 

She had written to Mimo from Paris, and told him she was going to bemarried; that she was doing so because she thought it was best for themall; and he had written back enchanted exclamations of surprise and joy, and had told her she should have his new picture, the London fog--sodramatic with its two meeting figures--for his wedding gift. Poor Mimo, so generous, always, with all he had!

Mirko was not to be told until she was actually married. 

She had written to her uncle and asked him as a great favor that shemight only arrive the very day of the family dinner party, he couldplead for her excess of trousseau business, or what he liked. She wouldcome by the nine o'clock morning train, so as to be in ample time fordinner; and it would be so much easier for every one, if they could getthe meeting over, the whole family together, rather than have the ordealof private presentations. 

And Francis Markrute had agreed, while Lord Tancred had chafed. 

"I _shall_ meet her at the station, whatever you say, Francis!" he hadexclaimed. "I am longing to see her. "

And as the train drew up at Victoria, Zara caught sight of him there onthe platform, and in spite of her dislike and resentment she could nothelp seeing that her fiancé was a wonderfully good-looking man. 

She herself appeared to him as the loveliest thing he had ever seen inhis life, with her perfect Paris clothes, and air of distinction. If hehad thought her attractive before he felt ecstatic in his admirationnow. 

Francis Markrute hurried up the platform and Tristram frowned, but thefinancier knew it might not be safe to leave them to a tête-à-tête driveto the house! Zara's temper might not brook it, and he had rushed backfrom the city, though he hated rushing, in order to be on the spot tomake a third. 

"Welcome, my niece!" he said, before Lord Tancred could speak. "You see, we have both come to greet you. "

She thanked them politely, and turned to give an order to her new Frenchmaid--and some of the expectant, boyish joy died out of Tristram's face, as he walked beside her to the waiting motor. 

They said the usual things about the crossing--it had been smooth andpleasant--so fortunate for that time of the year--and she had stayed ondeck and enjoyed it. Yes, Paris had been charming; it was always adelightful spot to find oneself in. 

Then Tristram said he was glad she thought that, because, if she wouldconsent, he would arrange to go there for the honeymoon directly afterthe wedding. She inclined her head in acquiescence but did not speak. The matter appeared one of complete indifference to her. 

In spite of his knowledge that this would be her attitude and he neednot expect anything different Tristram's heart began to sink down intohis boots, by the time they reached the house, and Francis Markrutewhispered to his niece as they came up the steps:

"I beg of you to be a little more gracious--the man has some spirit, youknow!"

So when they got into the library, and she began to pour out the tea forthem, she made conversation. But Tristram's teeth were set, and a steelylight began to grow in his blue eyes. 

She looked so astonishingly alluring there in her well-fitting, blueserge, traveling dress, yet he might not even kiss her white, slenderhand! And there was a whole week before the wedding! And afterit?--would she keep up this icy barrier between them? If so--but herefused to think of it!

He noticed that she wore his engagement ring only, on her left hand, andthat the right one was ringless, nor had she a brooch or any otherjewel. He felt glad--he would be able to give her everything. His motherhad been so splendid about the family jewels, insisting upon handingthem over, and even in the short time one or two pieces had been reset, the better to please the presumably modern taste of the new bride of theTancreds. These, and the wonderful pearls, her uncle's gift, werewaiting for her, up in her sitting-room. 

"I think I will go and rest now until dinner, " she said, and forced asmile as she moved towards the door. 

It was the first time Tristram had ever seen her smile, and it thrilledhim. He had the most frantic longing to take her in his arms and kissher, and tell her he was madly in love with her, and wanted her never tobe out of his sight. 

But he let her pass out, and, turning round, he found Francis Markrutepouring out some liqueur brandy from a wonderful, old, gold-chasedbottle, which stood on a side-table with its glasses. He filled two, andhanded one to Tristram, while he quoted Doctor Johnson with anunderstanding smile:

"'Claret for boys, port for men, but brandy for heroes!' By Jove! mydear boy, " he said, "you are a hero!"

CHAPTER XII

Lady Tancred unfortunately had one of her very bad headaches, and anhour before dinner, in fact before her son had left the Park Lane house, a telephone message came to say she was dreadfully sorry, it would beimpossible for her to come. It was Emily who spoke to Francis Markrute, himself. 

"Mother is so disappointed, " she said, "but she really suffers sodreadfully. I am sure Countess Shulski will forgive her, and you, too. She wants to know if Countess Shulski will let Tristram bring herto-morrow morning, without any more ceremony, to see her and stay toluncheon. "

Thus it was settled and this necessitated a change in the tablearrangements. 

Lady Ethelrida would now sit on the host's right hand, and LadyColtshurst, an aunt on the Tancred side, at his left, while Zara wouldbe between the Duke and her fiancé, as originally arranged. EmilyGuiscard would have Sir James Danvers and Lord Coltshurst as neighbors, and Mary her uncle, the Duke's brother, a widower, Lord CharlesMontfitchet, and his son, "Young Billy, " the Glastonbury heir--LadyEthelrida was the Duke's only child. 

At a quarter before eight Francis Markrute went up to his niece'ssitting-room. She was already dressed in a sapphire-blue velvetmasterpiece of simplicity. The Tancred presents of sapphires anddiamonds lay in their open cases on the table with the splendidMarkrute yards of pearls. She was standing looking down at them, thestrangest expression of cynical resignation upon her face. 

"Your gift is magnificent, Uncle Francis, " she said, without thankinghim. "Which do you wish me to wear? Yours--or his?"

"Lord Tancred's, he has specially asked that you put his on to-night, "the financier replied. "These are only his first small ones; the otherjewels are being reset for you. Nothing can be kinder or more generousthan the whole family has been. You see this brooch, with the large dropsapphire and diamond, is from the Duke. "

She inclined her head without enthusiasm, and took her own small pearlsfrom her ears, and replaced them by the big sapphire and diamondearrings; a rivière of alternate solitaire sapphires and diamonds sheclasped round her snowy throat. 

"You look absolutely beautiful, " her uncle exclaimed with admiration. "Iknew I could perfectly trust to your taste--the dress is perfection. "

"Then I suppose we shall have to go down, " she said quietly. 

She was perfectly calm, her face expressionless; if there was atempestuous suggestion in her somber eyes she generally kept the lidslowered. Inwardly, she felt a raging rebellion. This was the firstceremony of the sacrifice, and although in the abstract her fine sensesappreciated the jewels and all her new and beautiful clothes and_apanages_, they in no way counterbalanced the hateful degradation. 

To her it was a hideous mockery--the whole thing; she was just achattel, a part of a business bargain. She could not guess her uncle'smotive for the transaction (he had a deep one, of course), but LordTancred's was plain and purely contemptible. Money! For had not thewhole degrading thing been settled before he had ever seen her? He wasworse than Ladislaus who, at all events, had been passionately in love, in his revolting, animal way. 

She knew nothing of the English customs, nor how such a thing as thearrangement of this marriage, as she thought it was, was a perfectlyunknown impossibility, as an idea. She supposed that the entire familywere aware of the circumstances, and were willing to accept her only forher uncle's wealth--she already hated and despised them all. Her ideawas, "_noblesse oblige_, " and that a great and ancient house shouldnever stoop to such depths. 

Francis Markrute looked at her when she said, "I suppose we shall haveto go down, " with that icy calm. He felt faintly uneasy. 

"Zara, it is understood you will be gracious? and _brusquer_ no one?"

But all the reply he received was a glance of scorn. She had given herword and refused to discuss that matter. 

And so they descended the stairs just in time to be standing ready toreceive Lord and Lady Coltshurst who were the first to be announced. Hewas a spare, unintelligent, henpecked, elderly man, and she, a stout, forbidding-looking lady. She had prominent, shortsighted eyes, and sheused longhandled glasses; she had also three chins, and did not resemblethe Guiscards in any way, except for her mouth and her haughty bearing. 

Zara's manner was that of an empress graciously receiving foreigners ina private audience!

The guests now arrived in quick succession. Lord Charles and his son, "Young Billy, " then Tristram and his sisters, and Jimmy Danvers, and, lastly, the Duke and Lady Ethelrida. 

They were all such citizens of the world there was no awkwardness, andthe old Duke had kissed his fair, prospective niece's hand when he hadbeen presented, and had said that some day he should claim the privilegeof an old man and kiss her cheek. And Zara had smiled for an instant, overcome by his charm, and so she had put her fingers on his arm, andthey had gone down to dinner; and now they were talking suavely. 

Francis Markrute had a theory that certain human beings are born withmoral antennae--a sort of extra combination beyond the natural of thesenses of sight, smell, hearing and understanding--which made themapprehend situations and people even when these chanced to be of ahitherto unknown race or habit. Zara was among those whose antennae werehighly developed. She had apprehended almost instantaneously thatwhatever their motives were underneath, her future husband's family weregoing to act the part of receiving her for herself. It was a littleridiculous, but very well bred, and she must fall in with it when withthem collectively like this. 

Before they had finished the soup the Duke was saying to himself thatshe was the most attractive creature he had ever met in his life, and nowonder Tristram was mad about her; for Tristram's passionate admirationto-night could not have been mistaken by a child!

And yet Zara had never smiled, but that once--in the drawing-room. 

Lady Ethelrida from where she sat could see her face through a gap inthe flowers. The financier had ordered a tall arrangement on purpose:if Zara by chance should look haughtily indifferent it were better thather expression should escape the observation of all but her nearestneighbors. However, Lady Ethelrida just caught the picture of herthrough an oblique angle, against a background of French panelling. 

And with her quiet, calm judgment of people she was wondering what wasthe cause of that strange look in her eyes? Was it of a stag at bay? Wasit temper, or resentment, or only just pain? And Tristram had said theircolor was slate gray; for her part she saw nothing but pools of jet ink!

"There is some tragic story hidden here, " she thought, "and Tristram istoo much in love to see it. " But she felt rather drawn to her newprospective cousin, all the same. 

Francis Markrute seemed perfectly happy--his manner as a host leftnothing to be desired; he did not neglect the uninteresting aunt, whoformed golden opinions of him; but he contrived to make Lady Ethelridafeel that he wished only to talk to her; not because she was anattractive, young woman, but because he was impressed with herintelligence, in the abstract. It made things very easy. 

The Duke asked Zara if she knew anything about English politics. 

"You will have to keep Tristram up to the mark, " he said, "he has donevery well now and then, but he is a rather lazy fellow. " And he smiled. 

"'Tristram, '" she thought. "So his name is 'Tristram'!" She had actuallynever heard it before, nor troubled herself to inquire about it. Itseemed incredible, it aroused in her a grim sense of humor, and shelooked into the old Duke's face for a second and wondered what he wouldsay if she announced this fact, and he caught the smile, cynical thoughit was, and continued:

"I see you have noticed his laziness! Now it will really be your duty tomake him a first-rate fighter for our cause. The Radicals will begin toattack our very existence presently, and we must all come up to thescratch. "

"I know nothing as yet of your politics, " Zara said. "I do notunderstand which party is which, though my uncle says one consists ofgentlemen, and the other of the common people. I suppose it is like inother countries, every one wanting to secure what some one above him hasgot, without being fitted for the administration of what he desires tosnatch. "

"That is about it, " smiled the Duke. 

"It would be reasonable, if they were all oppressed here, as in Francebefore the great revolution, but are they?"

"Oh! dear, no!" interrupted Tristram. "All the laws are made for thelower classes. They have compensations for everything, and they haveopenings to rise to the top of the tree if they wish to. It is wretchedlandlords like my uncle and myself who are oppressed!" and he smileddelightedly, he was so happy to hear her talk. 

"When I shall know I shall perhaps find it all interesting, " shecontinued to the Duke. 

"Between us we shall have to instruct you thoroughly, eh, Tristram, myboy? And then you must be a great leader, and have a salon, as theladies of the eighteenth century did: we want a beautiful young woman todraw us all together. "

"Well, don't you think I have found you a perfect specimen, Uncle!"Tristram exclaimed; and he raised his glass and kissed the brim, whilehe whispered:

"Darling, my sweet lady--I drink to your health. "

But this was too much for Zara--he was overdoing the part--and sheturned and flashed upon him a glance of resentment and contempt. 

Beyond the Duke sat Jimmy Danvers, and then Emily Guiscard and LordColtshurst, and the two young people exchanged confidences in a lowvoice. 

"I say, Emily, isn't she a corker?" Sir James said. "She don't look abit English, though, she reminds me of a--oh, well, I'm not good athistory or dates, but some one in the old Florentine time. She looks asif she could put a dagger into one or give a fellow a cup of poison, without turning a hair. "

"Oh, Jimmy! how horrid, " exclaimed Emily. "She does not seem to me tohave a cruel face, she only looks peculiar and mysterious, and--and--unsmiling. Do you think she loves Tristram? Perhaps that isthe foreign way--to appear so cold. "

At that moment Sir James Danvers caught the glance which Zara gave herfiancé for his toast. 

"Je-hoshaphat!" he exclaimed! But he realized that Emily had not seen, so he stopped abruptly. 

"Yes--one can never be sure of things with foreigners, " he said, and helooked down at his plate. That poor devil of a Tristram was going tohave a thorny time in the future, he thought, and he was to be best manat the wedding; it would be like giving the old chap over to a tigress!But, by Jove!--such a beautiful one would be worth being eaten by--headded to himself. 

And during one of Francis Markrute's turnings to his left-hand neighborLord Coltshurst said to Lady Ethelrida:

"I think Tristram's choice peculiarly felicitous, Ethelrida, do not you?But I fear her ladyship"--and he glanced timidly at his wife--"will nottake this view. She has a most unreasonable dislike for young women withred hair. 'Ungovernable temperaments, ' she affirms. I trust she won'tprejudice your Aunt Jane. "

"Aunt Jane always thinks for herself, " said Lady Ethelrida. Sheannounced no personal opinion about Tristram's fiancé, nor could LordColtshurst extort one from her. 

As the dinner went on she felt a growing sense that they were all on theedge of a volcano. 

Lady Ethelrida never meddled in other people's affairs, but she lovedTristram as a brother and she felt a little afraid. She could not seehis face, from where she sat--the table was a long one with ovalends--but she, too, had seen the flash from Zara which had caused JimmyDanvers to exclaim: "Jehoshaphat!"

The host soon turned back from duty to pleasure, leaving Lady Coltshurstto Lord Charles Montfitchet. The conversation turned upon types. 

Types were not things of chance, Francis Markrute affirmed; if one couldlook back far enough there was always a reason for them. 

"People are so extremely unthinking about such a number of interestingthings, Lady Ethelrida, " he said, "their speculative faculties seem onlyto be able to roam into cut and dried channels. We have had greatscientists like Darwin investigating our origin, and among the Germansthere are several who study the atavism of races, but in general eveneducated people are perfectly ignorant upon the subject, and they expectlittle Tommy Jones and Katie Robinson, or Jacques Dubois and MarieBlanc, to have the same instincts as your cousin, Lord Tancred, and you, for instance. Whatever individual you are dealing with, you shouldendeavor to understand his original group. In moments of greatexcitement when all acquired control is in abeyance the individualalways returns to the natural action of his group. "

"How interesting!" said Lady Ethelrida. "Let us look round the table anddecide to what particular group each one of us belongs. "

"Most of you are from the same group, " he said meditatively. "Eliminating myself and my niece, Sir James Danvers has perhaps had themost intermixtures. "

"Yes, " said Lady Ethelrida, and she laughed. "Jimmy's grandmother wasthe daughter of a very rich Manchester cotton spinner; that is whatgives him his sound common sense. I am afraid Tristram and the rest ofus except Lord Coltshurst have not had anything sensible like that in usfor hundreds of years, so what would be your speculation as to theaction of our group?"

"That you would have high courage and fine senses, and highly-strung, nervous force, and chivalry and good taste, and broad and noble aims inthe higher half and that in the lower portion you would run to thedecadence of all those things--the fine turned to vices--yet even so Iwould not look for vulgarity, or bad taste, or cowardice in any of you. "

"No, " said Lady Ethelrida--"I hope not. Then, according to yourreasoning it is very unjust of us when we say, as perhaps you have heardit said, that Lady Darrowood is to blame when she is noisy andassertive and treats Lord Darrowood with bad taste?"

"Certainly--she only does those things when she is excited and has goneback to her group. When she is under her proper control she plays thepart of an English marchioness very well. It is the prerogative of a newrace to be able to play a part; the result of the cunning and strengthwhich have been required of the immediate forbears in order to live atall under unfavorable conditions. Now, had her father been a Deptfordox-slaughterer instead of a Chicago pig-sticker she could never haverisen to the role of a marchioness at all. This is no new country; itdoes not need nor comprehend bluff, and so produces no such type as LadyDarrowood. "

At this moment Lady Ethelrida again caught sight of Zara. She was silentat the instant, and a look of superb pride and disdain was on her face. Almost before she was aware of it Ethelrida had exclaimed:

"Your niece looks like an empress, a wonderful, Byzantine, Romanempress!"

Francis Markrute glanced at her, sideways, with his clever eyes; had sheever heard anything of Zara's parentage, he wondered for a second, andthen he smiled at himself for the thought. Lady Ethelrida was not likelyto have spoken so in that case--she would not be acting up to her group. 

"There are certain reasons why she should, " he said. "I cannot answerfor the part of her which comes from her father, Maurice Grey, a veryold English family, I believe, but on her mother's side she could havethe passions of an artist and the pride of a Caesar: she is a veryinteresting case. "

"May I know something of her?" Ethelrida said, "I do so want them to behappy. Tristram is one of the simplest and finest characters I have evermet. He will love her very much, I fear. "

"Why do you say you _fear?_"

Lady Ethelrida reddened a little; a soft, warm flush came into herdelicate face and made it look beautiful: she never spoke of love--tomen. 

"Because a great love is a very powerful and sometimes a terrible thing, if it is not returned in like measure. And, oh, forgive me for sayingso, but the Countess Shulski does not look as if--she lovedTristram--much. "

Francis Markrute did not speak for an instant, then he turned and gazedstraight into her eyes gravely, as he said:

"Believe me, I would not allow your cousin to marry my niece if I werenot truly convinced that it will be for the eventual great happiness ofthem both. Will you promise me something, Lady Ethelrida? Will you helpme not to permit any one to interfere between them for some time, nomatter how things may appear? Give them the chance of settlingeverything themselves. "

Ethelrida looked back at him, with a seriousness equal to his own as sheanswered, "I promise. " And inwardly the sense of some unknownundercurrent that might grow into a rushing torrent made itself felt, stronger than before. 

Meanwhile Lady Coltshurst, who could just see Zara's profile all thetime when she put up those irritating, longhandled glasses of hers, nowgave her opinion of the bride-elect to Lord Charles Montfitchet, herneighbor on the left hand. 

"I strongly disapprove of her, Charles. Either her hair is dyed or hereyes are blackened; that mixture is not natural, and if, indeed, itshould be in this case then I consider it uncanny and not what one wouldwish for in the family. "

"Oh, I say, my lady!" objected Lord Charles, "I think she is the moststunning-looking young woman I've seen in a month of Sundays!"

Lady Coltshurst put up her glasses again and glared:

"I cannot bear your modern slang, Charles, but 'stunning, ' usedliterally, is quite appropriate. She does stun one; that is exactly it. I fear poor Tristram with such a type can look forward to very littlehappiness, or poor Jane to any likelihood that the Tancred name willremain free from scandal. "

Lord Charles grew exasperated and retaliated. 

"By George! A demure mouse can cause scandal to a name, with probablymore certainty than this beauty!"

There was a member of Lady Coltshurst's husband's family whom sheherself, having no children, had brought out, and who had beenperilously near the Divorce Court this very season: and she was a dull, colorless little thing. 

Her ladyship turned the conversation abruptly, with an annihilatingglance. And fortunately, just then Zara rose, and the ladies filed outof the room: and so this trying dinner was over. 

CHAPTER XIII

Nothing could exceed Zara's dignity, when they reached the drawing-roomabove. They at first stood in a group by the fire in the larger room, and Emily and Mary tried to get a word in and say something nice intheir frank girlish way. They admired their future sister-in-law soimmensely, and if Zara had not thought they were all acting a part, asshe herself was, she would have been touched at their sweetness. As itwas she inwardly froze more and more, while she answered withpoliteness; and Lady Ethelrida, watching quietly for a while, grewfurther puzzled. 

It was certainly a mask this extraordinary and beautiful young woman waswearing, she felt, and presently, when Lady Coltshurst who had remainedrather silently aloof, only fixing them all in turn with her longeyeglasses, drew the girls aside to talk to her by asking for news oftheir mother's headache, Ethelrida indicated she and Zara might sit downupon the nearest, stiff, French sofa; and as she clasped her thin, finehands together, holding her pale gray gloves which she did not attemptto put on again, she said gently:

"I hope we shall all make you feel you are so welcome, Zara--may I callyou Zara? It is such a beautiful name I think. "

The Countess Shulski's strange eyes seemed to become blacker thanever--a startled, suspicious look grew in them, just such as had comeinto the black panther's on a day when Francis Markrute whistled asoftly caressing note outside its bars: what did this mean?

"I shall be very pleased if you will, " she said coldly. 

Lady Ethelrida determined not to be snubbed. She must overcome thisbarrier if she could, for Tristram's sake. 

"England and our customs must seem so strange to you, " she went on. "Butwe are not at all disagreeable people when you know us!" And she smiledencouragingly. 

"It is easy to be agreeable when one is happy, " Zara said. "And you allseem very happy here--_sans souci_. It is good. "

And Ethelrida wondered. "What can make you so unhappy, you beautifulthing, with Tristram to love you, and youth and health and riches?"

And Zara thought, "This appears a sweet and most frank lady, but how canI tell? I know not the English. It is perhaps because she is so wellbred that she is enabled to act so nicely. "

"You have not yet seen Wrayth, have you?" Ethelrida went on. "I am sureyou will be interested in it, it is so old. "

"Wr--ayth--?" Zara faltered. She had never heard of it! What was Wrayth?

"Perhaps I do not pronounce it as you are accustomed to think of it, "Ethelrida said kindly. She was absolutely startled at the other'signorance. "Tristram's place, I mean. The Guiscards have owned it eversince the Conqueror gave it to them after the Battle of Hastings, youknow. It is the rarest case of a thing being so long in one family, evenhere in England, and the title has only gone in the male line, too, asyet. But Tristram and Cyril are the very last. If anything happened tothem it would be the end. Oh! we are all so glad Tristram is going to bemarried!"

Zara's eyes now suddenly blazed at the unconscious insinuation in thisspeech. Any one who has ever watched a caged creature of the cat tribeand seen how the whole gamut of emotions--sullen endurance, suspicion, resentment, hate and rage, as well as contentment and happiness--canappear in its orbs without the slightest aid from lids or eyebrows, without the smallest alteration in mouth or chin, will understand howZara's pools of ink spoke while their owner remained icily still. 

She understood perfectly the meaning of Ethelrida's speech. The line ofthe Tancreds should go on through her! But never, never! That shouldnever be! If they were counting upon that they were counting in vain. The marriage was never intended to be anything but an empty ceremony, for mercenary reasons. There must be no mistake about this. What if LordTancred had such ideas, too? And she quivered suddenly and caught in herbreath with the horror of this thought. 

And who was Cyril? Zara had no knowledge of Cyril, any more than ofWrayth! But she did not ask. 

If Francis Markrute had heard this conversation he would have been verymuch annoyed with himself, and would have blamed himself for stupidity. He, of course, should have seen that his niece was sufficiently wellcoached, in all the details that she should know, not to be led intothese pitfalls. 

Ethelrida felt a sensation of a sort of petrified astonishment. There isa French word, _ahuri_, which expresses her emotion exactly, but thereis no English equivalent. Tristram's fiancé was evidently quite ignorantof the simplest facts about him, or his family, or his home! Her eyeshad blazed at Ethelrida's last speech, with a look of self-defence anddefiance. And yet Tristram was evidently passionately in love with her. How could such things be? It was a great mystery. Ethelrida was thrilledand interested. 

Francis Markrute guessed the ladies' lonely moments would be mostdifficult to pass, so he had curtailed the enjoyment of the port and oldbrandy and cigars to the shortest possible dimensions, Tristram aidinghim. His one desire was to be near his fiancé. 

The overmastering magnetic current which seemed to have drawn him fromthe very first moment he had seen her now had augmented into almostpain. She had been cruelly cold and disdainful at dinner whenever shehad spoken to him, her contempt showing plainly in her eyes, and it hadmaddened and excited him; and when the other men had all drunk thefiancés' health and wished them happiness he had gulped down the oldbrandy, and vowed to himself, "Before a year is out I will make her loveme as I love her, so help me God!"

And then they all had trooped up into the drawing-room just as Ethelridawas saying, "The northern property, Morndale, is not half so pretty as Wrayth--"

But when she saw them enter she rose and ceded her place to Tristram whogladly sank into the sofa beside his lady. 

He was to have no tête-à-tête, however, for Jimmy Danvers who felt itwas his turn to say something to the coming bride came now, and leantupon the mantelpiece beside them. 

"I am going to be the most severe 'best man' next Wednesday, Countess, "he said. "I shall see that Tristram is at St. George's a good half-hourbefore the time, and that he does not drop the ring; you trust to me!"And he laughed nervously, Zara's face was so unresponsive. 

"Countess Shulski does not know the English ceremony, Jimmy, " Tristraminterrupted quickly, "nor what is a 'best man. ' Now, if we were onlyacross the water we would have a rehearsal of the whole show as we didfor Darrowood's wedding. "

"That must have been a joke, " said Jimmy. 

"It was very sensible there; there was such a lot of fuss, andbridesmaids, and things; but we are going to be quite quiet, aren't we, Zara? I hate shows; don't you?"

"Immensely, " was all she answered. 

Then Sir James, who felt thoroughly crushed, after one or two morefatuous remarks moved away, and Zara arose in her character of hostess, and spoke to Lady Coltshurst. 

Tristram crossed over to the Duke and rapidly began a politicaldiscussion, but while his uncle appeared to notice nothing unusual, andentered into it with interest, his kind, old heart was wrung with thepain he saw his favorite nephew was suffering. 

"Mr. Markrute, I am troubled, " Lady Ethelrida said, as she walked withthe host to look at an exquisite Vigée le Brun across the room. "Yourniece is the most interesting personality I have ever met; but, underneath, something is making her unhappy, I am sure. Please, whatdoes it mean? Oh, I know I have promised what I did at dinner, but areyou certain it is all right? And can they ever be really at peacetogether?"

Francis Markrute bent over, apparently to point to a _bibelot_ whichlay on a table under the picture, and he said in a low, vibrating tone. 

"I give you my word there is some one, who is dead--whom I loved--whowould come back and curse me now, if I should let this thing be, with adoubt in my heart as to their eventual happiness. "

And Lady Ethelrida looked full at him and saw that the man's cold facewas deeply moved and softened. 

"If that is so then I will speculate no more, " she said. "Listen! I willtrust you!"

"You dear, noble English lady, " the financier replied, "how truly Ithank you!" And he let some of the emotion which he felt, gleam from hiseyes, while he changed the conversation. 

A few minutes after this, Lady Coltshurst announced it was time to go, and she would take the girls home. And the Duke's carriage was alsowaiting, and good nights were said, and the host whispered to JimmyDanvers, "Take Tancred along with you, too, please. My niece is overtired withthe strain of this evening and I want her to go to bed at once. " And toTristram he said, "Do not even say good night, like a dear fellow. Don't you see she isalmost ready to faint? Just go quietly with the rest, and come for herto-morrow morning to take her to your mother. "

So they all left as he wished, and he himself went back upstairs to thebig drawing-room and there saw Zara standing like a marble statue, exactly as they had left her, and he went forward, and, bending, kissedher hand. 

"Most beautifully endured, my queenly niece!" he said; and then he ledher to the door and up to her room. She was perfectly mute. 

But a little while afterwards, as he came to bed himself, he wasstartled and chilled by hearing the _Chanson Triste_ being played in hersitting-room, with a wailing, passionate pathos, as of a soul inanguish. 

And if he could have seen her face he would have seen her great eyesstreaming with tears, while she prayed:

"_Maman_, ask God to give me courage to get through all of this, sinceit is for your Mirko. "

CHAPTER XIV

Satan was particularly fresh next morning when Tristram took him for acanter round the Park. He was glad of it: he required something to workoff steam upon. He was in a mood of restless excitement. During thethree weeks of Zara's absence he had allowed himself to dream into astate of romantic love for her. He had glossed over in his mind herdistant coldness, her frigid adherence to the bare proposition, so thatto return to that state of things had come to him as a shock. 

But, this morning, he knew he was a fool to have expected anything else. He was probably a great fool altogether, but he never changed his mind, and was prepared to pay the price of his folly. After all, there wouldbe plenty of time afterwards to melt her dislike, so he could afford towait now. He would not permit himself to suffer again as he had donelast night. Then he came in and had his bath, and made himself into avery perfect-looking lover, to present himself to his lady at abouthalf-past twelve o'clock, to take her to his mother. 

Zara was, if anything, whiter than usual when she came into the librarywhere he was waiting for her alone. The financier had gone to the City. She had heavy, bluish shadows under her eyes, and he saw quite plainlythat, the night before, she must have been weeping bitterly. 

A great tenderness came over him. What was this sorrow of hers? Whymight he not comfort her? He put out both hands and then, as sheremained stonily unresponsive, he dropped them, and only said quietlythat he hoped she was well, and his motor was waiting outside, and thathis mother, Lady Tancred, would be expecting them. 

"I am ready, " said Zara. And they went. 

He told her as they flew along, that he had been riding in the Park thatmorning, and had looked up at the house and wondered which was herwindow; and then he asked her if she liked riding, and she said she hadnever tried for ten years--the opportunity to ride had not been in herlife--but she used to like it when she was a child. 

"I must get you a really well-mannered hack, " he said joyously. Here wasa subject she had not snubbed him over! "And you will let me teach youagain when we go down to Wrayth, won't you?"

But before she could answer they had arrived at the house in QueenStreet. 

Michelham, with a subdued beam on his old face, stood inside the doorwith his footmen, and Tristram said gayly, "Michelham, this is to be her new ladyship; Countess Shulski"--and heturned to Zara. "Michelham is a very old friend of mine, Zara. We usedto do a bit of poaching together, when I was a boy and came home fromEton. "

Michelham was only a servant and could not know of her degradation, soZara allowed herself to smile and looked wonderfully lovely, as the oldman said, "I am sure I wish your ladyship every happiness, and his lordship, too;and, if I may say so, with such a gentleman your ladyship is sure tohave it. "

And Tristram chaffed him, and they went upstairs. 

Lady Tancred had rigidly refrained from questioning her daughters, ontheir return from the dinnerparty; she had not even seen them until themorning, and when they had both burst out with descriptions of theirfuture sister-in-law's beauty and strangeness their mother had stoppedthem. 

"Do not tell me anything about her, dear children, " she had said. "Iwish to judge for myself without prejudice. "

But Lady Coltshurst could not be so easily repressed. She had calledearly, on purpose to give her views, with the ostensible excuse of aninquiry about her sister-in-law's health. 

"I am afraid you will be rather unfavorably impressed with Tristram'schoice, when you have seen her, Jane, " she announced. "I confess I was. She treated us all as though _she_ were conferring the honor, notreceiving it, and she is by no means a type that promises domestictranquillity for Tristram. "

"Really, Julia!" Lady Tancred protested. "I must beg of you to say nomore. I have perfect confidence in my son, and wish to receive hisfuture wife with every mark of affection. "

"Your efforts will be quite wasted, then, Jane, " her sister-in-lawsnapped. "She is most forbidding, and never once unbent nor becamegenial, the whole evening. And besides, for a lady, she is much toostriking looking. "

"She cannot help being beautiful, " Lady Tancred said. "I am sure I shalladmire her very much, from what the girls tell me. But we will notdiscuss her. It was so kind of you to come, and my head is muchbetter. "

"Then I will be off!" Lady Coltshurst sniffed in a slightly offendedtone. Really, relations were so tiresome! They never would accept a wordof advice or warning in the spirit it was given, and Jane in particularwas unpleasantly difficult. 

So she got into her electric brougham, and was rolled away, happilybefore Tristram and his lady appeared upon the scene; but the jar of herwords still lingered with Lady Tancred, in spite of all her efforts toforget it. 

Zara's heart beat when they got to the door, and she felt extremelyantagonistic. Francis Markrute had left her in entire ignorance of theEnglish customs, for a reason of his own. He calculated if he informedher that on Tristram's side it was purely a love match, she, with herstrange temperament, and sense of honor, would never have accepted it. He knew she would have turned upon him and said she could be no party tosuch a cheat. He with his calm, calculating brain had weighed the prosand cons of the whole matter: to get her to consent, for her brother'ssake in the beginning, under the impression that it was a dry businessarrangement, equally distasteful personally to both parties--to leaveher with this impression and keep the pair as much as possible apart, until the actual wedding; and then to leave her awakening toTristram--was his plan. A woman would be impossibly difficult to please, if, in the end, she failed to respond to such a lover as Tristram! Hecounted upon what he had called her moral antennae to make no mistakes. It would not eventually prejudice matters if the family did find her alittle stiff, as long as she did not actually show her contempt fortheir apparent willingness to support the bargain. But her look ofscorn, the night before, when he had shown some uneasiness on thisscore, had reassured him. He would leave things alone and let her makeher own discoveries. 

So now she entered her future mother-in-law's room, with a haughty mienand no friendly feelings in her heart. She was well acquainted with theforeign examples of mother-in-law. They interfered with everything andhad their sons under their thumbs. They seemed always mercenary, andwere the chief agents in promoting a match, if it were for their ownfamily's advantage. No doubt Uncle Francis had arranged the whole affairwith this Lady Tancred in the first instance, and she, Zara, would notbe required to keep up the comedy, as with the uncle and cousins. Shedecided she would be quite frank with her if the occasion required, andif she should, by chance, make the same insinuation of the continuanceof the Tancred race as Lady Ethelrida had innocently done, she wouldhave plainly to say that was not in the transaction. For her own endsshe must be Lord Tancred's wife and let her uncle have what glory hepleased from the position; if that were his reason, and as for LordTrancred's ends, he was to receive money. That was all: it was quitesimple. 

The two women were mutually surprised when they looked at one another. Lady Tancred's first impression was, "It is true she is a verydisturbing type, but how well bred and how beautiful!" And Zara thought, "It is possible that, after all, I may be wrong. She looks too proud tohave stooped to plan this thing. It may be only Lord Tancred'sdoing--men are more horrible than women. "

"This is Zara, Mother, " Tristram said. 

And Lady Tancred held out her hands, and then drew her newdaughter--that was to be--nearer and kissed her. 

And over Zara there crept a thrill. She saw that the elder lady wasgreatly moved, and no woman had kissed her since her mother's death. Why, if it were all a bargain, should she tenderly kiss her?

"I am so glad to welcome you, dear, " Lady Tancred said, determining tobe very gracious. "I am almost pleased not to have been able to go lastnight. Now I can have you all to myself for this, our first littlemeeting. "

And they sat down on a sofa, and Zara asked about her head; and LadyTancred told her the pain was almost gone, and this broke the ice andstarted a conversation. 

"I want you to tell me of yourself, " Lady Tancred said. "Do you thinkyou will like this old England of ours, with its damp and its gloom inthe autumn, and its beautiful fresh spring? I want you to--and to loveyour future home. "

"Everything is very strange to me, but I will try, " Zara answered. 

"Tristram has been making great arrangements to please you at Wrayth, "Lady Tancred went on. "But, of course, he has told you all about it. "

"I have had to be away all the time, " Zara felt she had better say--andTristram interrupted. 

"They are all to be surprises, Mother; everything is to be new to Zara, from beginning to end. You must not tell her anything of it. "

Then Lady Tancred spoke of gardens. She hoped Zara liked gardens; sheherself was a great gardener, and had taken much pride in her herbaceousborders and her roses at Wrayth. 

And when they had got to this stage of the conversation Tristram felt hecould safely leave them to one another, so, saying he wanted to talk tohis sisters, he went out of the room. 

"It will be such happiness to think of your living in the old home, " theproud lady said. "It was a great grief to us all when we had to shut itup, two years ago; but you will, indeed, adorn it for its reopening. "

Zara did not know what to reply. She vaguely understood that one mightlove a home, though she had never had one but the gloomy castle nearPrague; and that made her sigh when she thought of it. 

But a garden she knew she should love. And Mirko was so fond of flowers. Oh! if they would let her have a beautiful country home in peace, andMirko to come sometimes, and play there, and chase butterflies, with hisexcited, poor little face, she would indeed be grateful to them. Herthoughts went on in a dream of this, while Lady Tancred talked of manythings, and she answered, "Yes, " and "No, " with gentle respect. Herfuture mother-in-law's great dignity pleased her sense of the fitness ofthings; she so disliked gush of any sort herself, and she felt now thatshe knew where she was and there need be no explanations. The family, one and all, evidently intended to play the same part, and she would, too. When the awakening came it would be between herself and Tristram. Yes, she must think of him now as "Tristram!"

Her thoughts had wandered again when she heard Lady Tancred's voice, saying, "I wanted to give you this myself, " and she drew a small case from atable near and opened it, and there lay a very beautiful diamond ring. "It is my own little personal present to you, my new, dear daughter. Will you wear it sometimes, Zara, in remembrance of this day and inremembrance that I give into your hands the happiness of my son, who isdearer to me than any one on earth?"

And the two proud pairs of eyes met, and Zara could not answer, andthere was a strange silence between them for a second. And then Tristramcame back into the room, which created a diversion, and she was enabledto say some ordinary conventional things about the beauty of the stones, and express her thanks for the gift. Only, in her heart, she determinednever to wear it. It would burn her hand, she thought, and she couldnever be a hypocrite. 

Luncheon was then announced, and they went into the dining-room. 

Here she saw Tristram in a new light, with only "Young Billy" and JimmyDanvers who had dropped in, and his mother and sisters. 

He was gay as a schoolboy, telling Billy who had not spoken a word toZara the night before that now he should sit beside her, and that he wasat liberty to make love to his new cousin! And Billy, aged nineteen--aperfectly stolid and amiable youth--proceeded to start a laboriousconversation, while the rest of the table chaffed about things whichwere Greek to Zara, but she was grateful not to have to talk, and sopassed off the difficulties of the situation. 

And the moment the meal was over Tristram took her back to Park Lane. He, too, was thankful the affair had been got through; he hardly spokeas they went along, and in silence followed her into the house and intothe library, and there waited for her commands. 

Whenever they were alone the disguises of the part fell from Zara, andshe resumed the icy mien. 

"Good-bye, " she said coldly. "I am going into the country to-morrow fortwo or three days. I shall not see you until Monday. Have you anythingmore it is necessary to say?"

"You are going into the country!" Tristram exclaimed, aghast. "But Iwill not--" and then he paused, for her eyes had flashed ominously. "Imean, " he went on, "must you go? So soon before our wedding?"

She drew herself up and spoke in a scathing voice. 

"Why must I repeat again what I said when you gave me your ring?--I donot wish to see or speak with you. You will have all you bargained for. Can you not leave my company out of the question?"

The Tancred stern, obstinate spirit was thoroughly roused. He walked upand down the room rapidly for a moment, fuming with hurt rage. Thenreason told him to wait. He had no intention of breaking off the matchnow, no matter what she should do; and this was Thursday; there wereonly five more days to get through, and when once she should be hiswife--and then he looked at her, as she stood in her dark, perfectdress, with the great, sable wrap slipping from her shoulders and makinga regal background, and her beauty fired his senses and made his eyesswim; and he bent forward and took her hand. 

"Very well, you beautiful, unkind thing, " he said. "But if you do notwant to marry me you had better say so at once, and I will release youfrom your promise. Because when the moment comes afterwards for ourcrossing of swords there will be no question as to who is to bemaster--I tell you that now. "

And Zara dragged her hand from him, and, with the black panther'sglance in her eyes, she turned to the window and stood looking out. 

Then after a second she said in a strangled voice, "I wish that the marriage shall take place. --And now, please go. "

And without further words he went. 

CHAPTER XV

On her way to Bournemouth next day, to see Mirko, Zara met Mimo in theBritish Museum. They walked along the galleries on the ground flooruntil they found a bench near the mausoleum of Halicarnassus. To look atit gave them both infinite pleasure; they knew so well the masterpiecesof all the old Greeks. Mimo, it seemed, had been down to see his son tendays before. They had met secretly. Mirko had stolen out, and with thecunning of his little brain fully on the alert he had dodged Mrs. Morleyin the garden, and had fled to the near pine woods with his violin; andthere had met his father and had a blissful time. He was certainlybetter, Mimo said, a little fatter and with much less cough, and heseemed fairly happy and quite resigned. The Morleys were so kind andgood, but, poor souls! it was not their fault if they could notunderstand! It was not given to every one to have the understanding ofhis Chérisette and his own papa, Mirko had said, but so soon he would bewell; then he would be able to come back to them, and in the meantime hewas going to learn lessons, learn the tiresome things that hisChérisette alone knew how to teach him with comprehension. The new tutorwho came each day from the town was of a reasonableness, but no wit!"Body of Bacchus!" the father said, "the poor child had not been able tomake the tutor laugh once--in a week--when we met. "

And then after a while it seemed that there was some slight care uponMimo's mind. It had rained, it appeared, before the end of their stolenmeeting. It had rained all the morning and then had cleared upgloriously fine, and they had sat down on a bank under the trees, andMirko had played divinely all sorts of gay airs. But when he got up hehad shivered a little, and Mimo could see that his clothes were wet, andthen the rain had come on immediately again, and he had made him runback. He feared he must have got thoroughly soaked, and he had hadnothing since but one postcard, which said that Mirko had been in bed, though he was now much better and longing--longing to see hisChérisette!

"Oh, Mimo! how could you let him sit on the grass!" Zara exclaimedreproachfully, when he got thus far. "And why was I not told? It mayhave made him seriously ill. Oh, the poor angel! And I must stay soshort a while--and then this wedding--" She stopped abruptly and hereyes became black. For she knew there was no asking for respite. Toobtain her brother's possible life she must be ready and resigned, atthe altar at St. George's, Hanover Square, on Wednesday the 25th ofOctober, at 2 o'clock, and, once made a wife, she must go with LordTancred to the Lord Warren Hotel at Dover, to spend the night. 

She rose with a convulsive quiver, and looked with blank, sightless eyesat an Amazon in the frieze hard by. The Amazon--she saw, when visioncame back to her--was hurling a spear at a splendid young Greek. That ishow she felt she would like to behave to her future husband. Men andtheir greed of money, and their revolting passions!--and her poor littleMirko ill, perhaps, from his father's carelessness--How could she leavehim? And if she did not his welfare would be at an end and life anabyss. 

There was no use scolding Mimo; she knew of old no one was sorrier thanhe for his mistakes, for which those he loved best always had to suffer. It had taken the heart out of him, the anxious thought, he said, but, knowing that Chérisette must be so busy arranging to get married, he hadnot troubled her, since she could do nothing until her return toEngland, and then he knew she would arrange to go to Mirko at once, inany case. 

He, Mimo, had been too depressed to work, and the picture of the Londonfog was not much further advanced, and he feared it would not be readyfor her wedding gift. 

"Oh, never mind!" said Zara. "I know you will think of me kindly, and Ishall like that as well as any present. "

And then she drove to the Waterloo station alone, a gnawing anxiety inher heart. And all the journey to Bournemouth her spirits sank lower andlower until, when she got there, it seemed as if the old cab-horse werea cow in its slowness, to get to the doctor's trim house. 

"Yes, " Mrs. Morley said as soon as she arrived, "your little brother hashad a very sharp attack. "

He escaped from the garden about ten days before, she explained, and wasgone at least two hours, and then returned wet through, and was a littlelight-headed that night, and had talked of "Maman and the angels, " and"Papa and Chérisette, " but they could obtain no information from him asto why he went, nor whom he had seen. He had so rapidly recovered thatthe doctor had not thought it necessary to let any one know, and she, Mrs. Morley--guessing how busy one must be ordering a trousseau--whenthere was no danger had refrained from sending a letter, to be forwardedfrom the given address. 

Here Zara's eyes had flashed, and she had said sternly, "The trousseau was not of the slightest consequence in comparison to mybrother's health. "

Mirko was upstairs in his pretty bedroom, playing with a puzzle and thenurse; he had not been told of his sister's proposed coming, but somesixth sense seemed to inform him it was she, when her footfall soundedon the lower stairs, for they heard an excited voice shouting:

"I tell you I will go--I will go to her, my Chérisette!" And Zarahastened the last part, to avoid his rushing, as she feared he would do, out of his warm room into the cold passage. 

The passionate joy he showed at the sight of her made a tightness roundher heart. He did not look ill, only, in some unaccountable way, heseemed to have grown smaller. There was, too, even an extra pink flushin his cheeks. 

He must sit on her lap and touch all her pretty things. She had put onher uncle's big pearl earrings and one string of big pearls, on purposeto show him; he so loved what was beautiful and refined. 

"Thou art like a queen, Chérisette, " he told her. "Much more beautifulthan when we had our tea party, and I wore Papa's paper cap. Andeverything new! The uncle, then, is very rich, " he went on, while hestroked the velvet on her dress. 

And she kissed and soothed him to sleep in her arms, when he was readyfor his bed. It was getting quite late, and she sang a soft, Slavoniccradle song, in a low cooing voice, and, every now and then, before thepoor little fellow sank entirely to rest, he would open his beautiful, pathetic eyes, and they would swim with love and happiness, while hemurmured, "Adored Chérisette!"

The next day--Saturday--she never left him. They played games together, and puzzles. The nurse was kind, but of a thickness of understanding, like all the rest, he said, and, with his sister there, he coulddispense with her services for the moment. He wished, when it grew duskand they were to have their tea, to play his violin to only her, in thefirelight; and there he drew forth divine sounds for more than an hour, tearing at Zara's heart-strings with the exquisite notes until her eyesgrew wet. And at last he began something that she did not know, and theweird, little figure moved as in a dance in the firelight, while heplayed this new air as one inspired, and then stopped suddenly with acrash of joyous chords. 

"It is _Maman_ who has taught me that!" he whispered. "When I was illshe came often and sang it to me, and when they would give me back myviolin I found it at once, and now I am so happy. It talks of thebutterflies in the woods, which are where she lives, and there is alittle white one which flies up beside her with her radiant blue wings. And she has promised me that the music will take me to her, quite soon. Oh, Chérisette!"

"No, no, " said Zara faintly. "I cannot spare you, darling. I shall havea beautiful garden of my own next summer, and you must come and staywith me, Mirko mio, and chase real butterflies with a golden net. "

And this thought enchanted the child. He must hear all about hissister's garden. By chance there was an old number of _Country Life_lying on the table, and, the nurse bringing in the tea at the moment, they turned on the electric light and looked at the pictures; and by thestrangest coincidence, when they came to the weekly series of thosebeautiful houses she read at the beginning of the article, "Wrayth--theproperty of Lord Tancred of Wrayth. "

"See, Mirko, " she said in a half voice; "our garden will look exactlylike this. "

And the child examined every picture with intense interest. One of astatue of Pan and his pipe, making the center of a star in the Italianparterre, pleased him most. 

"For see, Chérisette, he, too, is not shaped as other people are, " hewhispered with delight. "Look! And he plays music, also! When you walkthere, and I am with _Maman_, you must remember that this is me!"

It was with deep grief and foreboding that Zara left him, on Mondaymorning, in spite of the doctor's assurance that he was indeed on theturn to get quite well--well of this sharp attack--whether he would evergrow to be a man was always a doubt but there was no presentanxiety--she could be happy on that score. And with this she was obligedto rest content. 

But all the way back in the train she saw the picture of the Italianparterre at Wrayth with the statue of Pan, in the center of the star, playing his pipes. 

CHAPTER XVI

The second wedding day of Zara Shulski dawned with a glorious sun. Oneof those autumn mornings that seem like a return to the spring--so freshand pure the air. She had not seen her bridegroom since she got backfrom Bournemouth, nor any of the family; she had said to her uncle thatshe could not bear it. 

"I am at the end of my forces, Uncle Francis. You are so clever--you caninvent some good excuse. If I must see Lord Tancred I cannot answer forwhat I may do. "

And the financier had realized that this was the truth. The strings ofher soul were strained to breaking point, and he let her pass the wholeday of Tuesday in peace. 

She signed numbers of legal documents concerning her marriagesettlements, without the slightest interest; and then her uncle handedher one which he said she was to read with care. It set forth in thewearisome language of the law the provision for Mirko's life, "inconsideration of a certain agreement" come to between her uncle andherself. But should the boy Mirko return at any time to the man Sykypri, his father, or should she, Zara, from the moneys settled upon herselfgive sums to this man Sykypri the transaction between herself and heruncle regarding the boy's fortune would be null and void. This was thedocument's sense. 

Zara read it over but the legal terms were difficult for her. "If itmeans exactly what we agreed upon, Uncle Francis, I will sign it, " shesaid, "that is--that Mirko shall be cared for and have plenty of moneyfor life. "

And Francis Markrute replied, "That is what is meant. "

And then she had gone to her room, and spent the night before herwedding alone. She had steadily read one of her favorite books: shecould not permit herself for a moment to think. 

There was a man going to be hanged on the morrow, she had seen in thepapers; and she wondered if, this last night in his cell, the condemnedwretch was numb, or was he feeling at bay, like herself?

Then, at last she opened the window and glanced out on the moon. It wasthere above her, over the Park, so she turned out the lights, and, putting her furs around her, she sat for a while and gazed above thetreetops, while she repeated her prayers. 

And Mimo saw her, as he stood in the shadow on the pavement at the otherside of Park Lane. He had come there in his sentimental way, to give herhis blessing, and had been standing looking up for some time. It seemedto him a good omen for dear Chérisette's happiness, that she should haveopened the window and looked out on the night. 

It was quite early--only about half-past ten--and Tristram, after abanquet with his bachelor friends on the Monday night, had devoted this, his last evening, to his mother, and had dined quietly with her alone. 

He felt extremely moved, and excited, too, when he left. She had talkedto him so tenderly--the proud mother who so seldom unbent. How marriagewas a beautiful but serious thing, and he must love and try tounderstand his wife--and then she spoke of her own great love for him, and her pride in their noble name and descent. 

"And I will pray to God that you have strong, beautiful children, Tristram, so that there may in years to come be no lack of the Tancredsof Wrayth. "

When he got outside in the street the moonlight flooded the road, so hesent his motor away and decided to walk. He wanted breathing space, hewanted to think, and he turned down into Curzon Street and from, thenceacross Great Stanhope Street and into the Park. 

And to-morrow night, at this time, the beautiful Zara would be his! andthey would be dining alone together at Dover, and surely she would notbe so icily cold; surely--surely he could get her to melt. 

And then further visions came to him, and he walked very fast; andpresently he found himself opposite his lady's house. 

An impulse just to see her window overcame him, and he crossed the roadand went out of the gate. And there on the pavement he saw Mimo, alsowith face turned, gazing up. 

And in a flash he thought he recognized that this was the man he hadseen that day in Whitehall, when he was in his motor car, going veryfast. 

A mad rage of jealousy and suspicion rushed through him. Every devilwhispered, "Here is a plot. You know nothing of the woman whom to-morrowyou are blindly going to make your wife. Who is this man? What is hisconnection with her? A lover's--of course. No one but a lover would gazeup at a window on a moonlight night. "

And it was at this moment that Zara opened the window and, for a second, both men saw her slender, rounded figure standing out sharply againstthe ground of the room. Then she turned, and put out the light. 

A murderous passion of rage filled Lord Tancred's heart. 

He looked at Mimo and saw that the man's lips were muttering a prayer, and that he had drawn a little silver crucifix from his coat pocket, and, also, that he was unconscious of any surroundings, for his face wasrapt; and he stepped close to him and heard him murmur, in hiswell-pronounced English, "Mary, Mother of God, pray for her, and bring her happiness!"

And his common sense reassured him somewhat. If the man were a lover, hecould not pray so, on this, the night before her wedding to another. Itwas not in human, male nature, he felt, to do such an unselfish thing asthat. 

Then Mimo raised his soft felt hat in his rather dramatic way to thewindow, and walked up the street. 

And Tristram, a prey to all sorts of conflicting emotions, went backinto the Park. 

 * * * * *

It seemed to Francis Markrute that more than half the nobility ofEngland had assembled in St. George's, Hanover Square, next day, as, with the beautiful bride on his arm, he walked up the church. 

She wore a gown of dead white velvet, and her face looked the sameshade, under the shadow of a wonderful picture creation, of black velvetand feathers, in the way of a hat. 

The only jewels she had on were the magnificent pearls which were heruncle's gift. There was no color about her except in her red burnishedhair and her red, curved mouth. 

And the whole company thrilled as she came up the aisle. She looked likethe Princess in a fairy tale--but just come to life. 

The organ stopped playing, and now, as in a dream she knew that she waskneeling beside Tristram and that the Bishop had joined their hands. 

She repeated the vows mechanically, in a low, quiet voice. All the senseof it that came to her brain was Tristram's firm utterance, "I, TristramLorrimer Guiscard, take thee, Zara Elinka, to be my wedded wife. "

And so, at last, the ceremony was over, and Lord and Lady Tancred walkedinto the vestry to sign their names. And as Zara slipped her hand fromthe arm of her newly-made husband he bent down his tall head and kissedher lips; and, fortunately, the train of coming relations and friendswere behind them, as yet, and the Bishops were looking elsewhere, orthey would have been startled to observe the bride shiver, and to haveseen the expression of passionate resentment which crept into her face. But the bridegroom saw it, and it stabbed his heart. 

Then it seemed that a number of people kissed her: his mother andsisters, and Lady Ethelrida, and, lastly, the Duke. 

"I am claiming my privilege as an old man, " this latter said gayly, "andI welcome you to all our hearts, my beautiful niece. "

And Zara had answered, but had hardly been able to give even amechanical smile. 

And when they got into the smart, new motor, after passing through theadmiring crowds, she had shrunk into her corner, and half closed hereyes. And Tristram, intensely moved and strained with the excitement ofit all, had not known what to think. 

But pride made his bride play her part when they reached her uncle'shouse. 

She stood with her bridegroom, and bowed graciously to the countless, congratulatory friends of his, who passed and shook hands. And, whensoon after they had entered Lady Tancred arrived with Cyril and thegirls, she had even smiled sweetly for one moment, when that gallantyouth had stood on tiptoe and given her a hearty kiss! He was very smallfor his age, and full of superb self-possession. 

"I think you are a stunner, Zara, " he said. "Two of our fellows, cousinsof mine, who were in church with me, congratulated me awfully. And now Ihope you're soon going to cut the cake?"

And Tristram wondered why her mutinous mouth had quivered and her eyesbecome full of mist. She was thinking of her own little brother, faraway, who did not even know that there would be any cake. 

And so, eventually, they had passed through the shower of rice andslippers and were at last alone in the motorcar again; and once moreshe shrank into her corner and did not speak, and he waited patientlyuntil they should be in the train. 

But once there, in the reserved saloon, when the obsequious guard hadfinally shut the door from waving friends and last hand shakes, and theyslowly steamed out of the station, he came over and sat down beside herand tenderly took her little gray-gloved hand. 

But she drew it away from him, and moved further off, before he couldeven speak. 

"Zara!" he said pleadingly. 

Then she looked intensely fierce. 

"Can you not let me be quiet for a moment?" she hissed. "I am tiredout. "

And he saw that she was trembling, and, though he was very much in loveand maddeningly exasperated with everything, he let her rest, and evensettled her cushion for her, silently, and took a paper and sat in anarmchair near, and pretended to read. 

And Zara stared out of the window, her heart beating in her throat. Forshe knew this was only a delay because, as her uncle had once said, theEnglish nobility as a race were great gentlemen--and this one inparticular--and because of that he would not be likely to make a scenein the train; but they would arrive at the hotel presently, and therewas dinner to be got through, alone with him, and then--the afterwards. And as she thought of this her very lips grew white. 

The hideous, hideous hatefulness of men! Visions of moments of her firstwedding journey with Ladislaus came back to her. He had not shown herany consideration for five minutes in his life. 

Everything in her nature was up in arms. She could not be just; with herbelief in his baseness it seemed to her that here was this man--herhusband--whom she had seen but four times in her life, and he was notcontent with the honest bargain which he perfectly understood; notcontent with her fortune and her willingness to adorn his house, but hemust perforce allow his revolting senses to be aroused, he must desireto caress her, just because she was a woman--and fair--and the law wouldgive him the right because she was his wife. 

But she would not submit to it! She would find some way out. 

As yet she had not even noticed Tristram's charm, that something whichdrew all other women to him but had not yet appealed to her. She saw onthe rare occasions in which she had looked at him that he was veryhandsome--but so had been Ladislaus, and so was Mimo; and all men wereselfish or brutes. 

She was half English herself, of course, and that part of her--the calm, common sense of the nation, would assert itself presently; but for thetime, everything was too strained through her resentment at fate. 

And Tristram watched her from behind his _Evening Standard_, and wasunpleasantly thrilled with the passionate hate and resentment and allthe varying; storms of feeling which convulsed her beautiful face. 

He was extremely sensitive, in spite of his daring _insouciance_ and hispride. It would be perfectly impossible to even address her again whileshe was in this state. 

And so this splendid young bride and bridegroom, not understanding eachother in the least, sat silent and constrained, when they should havebeen in each other's arms; and presently, still in the same moods, theycame to Dover, and so to the Lord Warden Hotel. 

Here the valet and maid had already arrived, and the sitting-room wasfull of flowers, and everything was ready for dinner and the night. 

"I suppose we dine at eight?" said Zara haughtily, and, hardly waitingfor an answer, she went into the room beyond and shut the door. 

Here she rang for her maid and asked her to remove her hat. 

"A hateful, heavy thing, " she said, "and there is a whole hourfortunately, before dinner, Henriette, and I want a lovely bath; andthen you can brush my hair, and it will be a rest. "

The French maid, full of sympathy and excitement, wondered, while sheturned on the taps, how _Miladi_ should look so disdainful and calm. 

"_Mon Dieu!_ if _Milor_ was my Raoul! I would be far otherwise, " shethought to herself, as she poured in the scent. 

At a quarter to the hour of dinner she was still silently brushing hermistress's long, splendid, red hair, while Zara stared into the glass infront of her, with sightless eyes and face set. She was back inBournemouth, and listening to "_Maman's_ air. " It haunted her and rangin her head; and yet, underneath, a wild excitement coursed in herblood. 

A knock then came to the door, and when Henrietta answered it Tristrampassed her by and stepped into his lady's room. 

Zara turned round like a startled fawn, and then her expression changedto one of anger and hauteur. 

He was already dressed for dinner, and held a great bunch of gardeniasin his hand. He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the exquisitepicture she made, and he drew in his breath. He had not known hair couldbe so long; he had not realized she was so beautiful. And she was hiswife!

"Darling!" he gasped, oblivious of even the maid, who had the discretionto retire quickly to the bathroom beyond. "Darling, how beautiful youare! You drive me perfectly mad. "

Zara held on to the dressing-table and almost crouched, like a pantherready to spring. 

"How dare you come into my room like this! Go!" she said. 

It was as if she had struck him. He drew back, and flung the flowersdown into the grate. 

"I only came to tell you dinner was nearly ready, " he said haughtily, "and to bring you those. But I will await you in the sitting-room, whenyou are dressed. "

And he turned round and left through the door by which he had come. 

And Zara called her maid rather sharply, and had her hair plaited anddone, and got quickly into her dress. And when she was ready she wentslowly into the sitting-room. 

She found Tristram leaning upon the mantelpiece, glaring moodily intothe flames. He had stood thus for ten minutes, coming to a decision inhis mind. 

He had been very angry just now, and he thought was justified; but heknew he was passionately in love, as he had never dreamed nor imaginedhe could be in the whole of his life. 

Should he tell her at once about it? and implore her not to be so coldand hard? But no, that would be degrading. After all, he had alreadyshown her a proof of the most reckless devotion, in asking to marry her, after having seen her only once! And she, what had her reasons been?They were forcible enough or she would not have consented to her uncle'swishes before they had even ever met; and he recalled, when he had askedher only on Thursday last if she would wish to be released, that she hadsaid firmly that she wished the marriage to take place. Surely she mustknow that no man with any spirit would put up with such treatment asthis--to be spoken to as though he had been an impudent strangerbursting into her room!

Then his tempestuous thoughts went back to Mimo, that foreign man whomhe had seen under her window. What if, after all, he was her lover andthat accounted for the reason she resented his--Tristram's--desire tocaress?

And all the proud, obstinate fighting blood of the Guiscards got up inhim. He would not be made a cat's-paw. If she exasperated him further hewould forget about being a gentleman, and act as a savage man, and seizeher in his arms and punish her for her haughtiness!

So it was his blue eyes which were blazing with resentment this time, and not her pools of ink. 

Thus they sat down to dinner in silence--much to the waiters' surpriseand disgust. 

Zara felt almost glad her husband looked angry. He would then of his ownaccord leave her in peace. 

As the soup and fish came and went they exchanged no word, and then thatbreeding that they both had made them realize the situation wasimpossible, and they said some ordinary things while the waiters were inthe room. 

The table was a small round one with the two places set at right angles, and very close. 

It was the first occasion upon which Zara had ever been so nearTristram, and every time she looked up she was obliged to see his face. She could not help owning to herself, that he was extraordinarilydistinguished looking, and that there were strong, noble lines in hiswhole shape. 

At the end of their repast, for different reasons, neither of the twofelt calm. Tristram's anger had died down, likewise his suspicions;after a moment's thought the sane point of view always presented itselfto his brain. No, whatever her reasons were for her disdain of him, having another lover was not the cause. And then he grew intoxicatedagain with her beauty and grace. 

She was a terrible temptation to him; she would have been so to anynormal man--and they were dining together--and she was his very own!

The waiters, with their cough of warning at the door, brought coffee andliqueurs, and then bodily removed the dinner table, and shut the doors. 

And now Zara knew she was practically alone with her lord for the night. 

He walked about the room--he did not drink any coffee, nor even aChartreuse--and she stood perfectly still. Then he came back to her, andsuddenly clasped her in his arms, and passionately kissed her mouth. 

"Zara!" he murmured hoarsely. "Good God! do you think I am a stone! Itell you I love you--madly. Are you not going to be kind to me andreally be my wife?"

Then he saw a look in her eyes that turned him to ice. 

"Animal!" she hissed, and hit him across the face. 

And as he let her fall from him she drew back panting, and deadly white;while he, mad with rage at the blow, stood with flaming blue eyes, andteeth clenched. 

"Animal!" again she hissed, and then her words poured forth in a torrentof hate. "Is it not enough that you were willing to sell yourself for myuncle's money--that you were willing to take as a bargain--a woman whomyou had never even seen, without letting your revolting passions exhibitthemselves like this? And you dare to tell me you love me! What do suchas you know of love? Love is a true and a pure and a beautiful thing, not to be sullied like this. It must come from devotion and knowledge. What sort of a vile passion is it which makes a man feel as you do forme? Only that I am a woman. Love! It is no love--it is a question ofsense. Any other would do, provided she were as fair. Remember, my lord!I am not your mistress, and I will not stand any of this! Leave me. Ihate you, animal that you are!"

He stiffened and grew rigid with every word that she said, and when shehad finished he was as deadly pale as she herself. 

"Say not one syllable more to me, Zara!" he commanded. "You will have nocause to reprove me for loving you again. And remember this: thingsshall be as you wish between us. We will each live our lives and playthe game. But before I ask you to be my wife again you can go down uponyour knees. Do you hear me? Good night. "

And without a word further he strode from the room. 

CHAPTER XVII

The moon was shining brightly and a fresh breeze had risen when Tristramleft the hotel and walked rapidly towards the pier. He was mad with rageand indignation from his bride's cruel taunts. The knowledge of theirinjustice did not comfort him, and, though he knew he was innocent ofany desire to have made a bargain, and had taken her simply for herbeautiful self, still, the accusation hurt and angered his pride. Howdared she! How dared her uncle have allowed her to think such things! ATancred to stoop so low! He clenched his hands and his whole frameshook. 

And then as he gazed down into the moonlit waves her last words cameback with a fresh lashing sting. "Leave me, I hate you, animal that youare!" An animal, forsooth! And this is how she had looked at his love!

And then a cold feeling came over him--he was so very just--and hequestioned himself. Was it true? Had it, indeed, been only that? Had he, indeed, been unbalanced and intoxicated merely from the desire of herexquisite body? Had there been nothing beyond? Were men reallybrutes?--And here he walked up and down very fast. What did it all mean?What did life mean? What was the truth of this thing, called love?

And so he strode for hours, reasoning things out. But he knew that forhis nature there could be no love without desire--and no desire withoutlove. And then his conversation with Francis Markrute came back to him, the day they had lunched in the city, when the financier had given hisviews about women. 

Yes, they were right, those views. A woman, to be dangerous, must appealto both the body and brain of a man. If his feeling for Zara were onlyfor the body then it was true that it was only lust. 

But it was _not_ true; and he thought of all his dreams of her atWrayth, of the pictures he had drawn of their future life together, ofthe tenderness with which he had longed for this night. 

And then his anger died down and was replaced by a passionate grief. 

His dream lay in ruins, and there was nothing to look forward to but ablank, soulless life. It did not seem to him then, in the coldmoonlight, that things could ever come right. He could not for hispride's sake condescend to any further explanation with her. He wouldnot stoop to defend himself; she must think what she chose, until sheshould of herself find out the truth. 

And then his level mind turned and tried to see her point of view. Hemust not be unjust. And he realized that if she thought such base thingsof him she had been more or less right. But, even so, there was somemystery beyond all this--some cruel and oppressing dark shadow in herlife. 

And his thoughts went back to the night they had first met, and heremembered then that her eyes had been full of hate--resentment andhate--as though he, personally, had caused her some injury. 

Francis Markrute was so very clever: what plan had he had in his head?By what scorpion whip had he perhaps forced her to consent to his wishesand become his--Tristram's--wife? And once more the disturbingremembrance of Mimo returned, so that, when at last dawn came and hewent back to the hotel, tired out in body and soul, it would not let himrest in his bed. His bed--in the next room his wife!

But one clear decision he had come to. He would treat her with coldcourtesy, and they would play the game. To part now, in a dramaticmanner, the next day after the wedding, was not in his sense of thefitness of things, was not what was suitable or seemly for the Tancredname. 

And when he had left her Zara had stood quite still. Some not understoodastonishment caused all her passion to die down. For all the pitifullycruel experiences of her life she was still very young--young andignorant of any but the vilest of men. Hitherto she had felt when theywere kind that it was for some gain, and if a woman relented a secondshe would be sure to be trapped. For her self-respect and her soul'ssake she must go armed at all points. And after her hurling at him allher scorn, instead of her husband turning round and perhaps beating her(as, certainly, Ladislaus would have done), he had answered with dignityand gone out of the room. 

And she remembered her father's cold mien. Perhaps there was somethingelse in the English--some other finer quality which she did not yetunderstand. 

The poor, beautiful creature was like some ill-treated animal ready tobite to defend itself at the sight of a man. 

It spoke highly for the strength and nobility of her character that, whereas another and weaker woman would have become degraded by thesorrows of such a life, she had remained pure as the snow, and as cold. Her strong will and her pride had kept completely in check everyvoluptuous instinct which must certainly have always lain dormant inher. Every emotion towards man was frozen to ice. 

There are some complete natures which only respond to the highest touch;when the body and soul are evenly balanced they know all that is divineof human love. It is those warped in either of the component parts whobring sorrow--and lust. 

The perfect woman gives willingly of herself, body and soul, to the _oneman_ she loves. 

But of all these things Zara was ignorant. She only knew she wasexhausted, and she crept wearily to bed. 

Thus neither bride nor bridegroom, on this their wedding night, knewpeace or rest. 

They met next day for a late breakfast. They were to go to Paris by theone o'clock boat. They were both very quiet and pale. Zara had gone intothe sitting-room first, and was standing looking out on the sea when herhusband came into the room, and she did not turn round, until he said"Good morning, " coldly, and she realized it was he. 

Some strange quiver passed over her at the sound of his voice. 

"Breakfast should be ready, " he went on calmly. "I ordered it for eleveno'clock. I told your maid to tell you so. I hope that gave you time todress. "

"Yes, thank you, " was all she said; and he rang the bell and opened thepapers, which the waiters had piled on the table, knowing the delight ofyoung bridal pairs to see news of themselves!

And as Zara glanced at her lord's handsome face she saw a cynical, disdainful smile creep over it, at something he read. 

And she guessed it was the account of their wedding; and she, too, tookup another paper and looked at the headings. 

Yes, there was a flaming description of it all. And as she finished thelong paragraphs she raised her head suddenly and their eyes met. AndTristram allowed himself to laugh--bitterly, it was true, but still tolaugh. 

The lingering fear of the ways of men was still in Zara's heart and notaltogether gone; she was not yet quite free from the suspicion that hestill might trap her if she unbent. So she frowned slightly and thenlooked down at the paper again; and the waiters brought in breakfast atthat moment and nothing was said. 

They did not seem to have much appetite, nor to care what they ate, but, the coffee being in front of her, politeness made Zara ask what sort herhusband took, and when he answered--none at all--he wanted tea--she wasrelieved, and let him pour it out at the side-table himself. 

"The wind has got up fiercely, and it will be quite rough, " he saidpresently. "Do you mind the sea?"

And she answered, "No, not a bit. "

Then they both continued reading the papers until all pretense ofbreakfast was over; and he rose, and, asking if she would be ready atabout half-past twelve, to go on board, so as to avoid the crowd fromthe London train, he went quietly out of the room, and from the windowsshe afterwards saw him taking a walk on the pier. 

And for some unexplained psychological reason, although she had nowapparently obtained exactly the terms she had decided were the onlypossible ones on which to live with him, she experienced no sense ofsatisfaction or peace!

No pair could have looked more adorably attractive and interesting thanLord and Lady Tancred did as they went to their private cabin on theboat an admiring group of Dover young ladies thought, watching from theraised part above where the steamer starts. Every one concerned knewthat this thrilling bride and bridegroom would be crossing, and theusual number of the daily spectators was greatly increased. 

"What wonderful chinchilla!" "What lovely hair!" and "Oh! isn't he justtoo splendid!" they said. And the maid and the valet, carrying the jewelcase, dressing bags, cushion and sable rug, followed, to the youngladies' extra delight. 

The _apanages_ of a great position, when augmented by the romance of awedding journey, are dear to the female heart. 

They had the large cabin on the upper deck of the _Queen_, and it wasnoticed that until the London train could be expected to arrive thebridal pair went outside and sat where they could not be observed, witha view towards Dover Castle. But it could not be seen that they neverspoke a word and that each read a book. 

When it seemed advisable to avoid the crowd Tristram glanced up andsaid, "I suppose we shall have to stay in that beastly cabin now, or some cadwill snapshot us. Will you come along?"

And so they went. 

"It is going to be really quite rough, " he continued, when the door wasshut. "Would you like to lie down--or what?"

"I am never the least ill, but I will try and sleep, " Zara answeredresignedly, as she undid her chinchilla coat. 

So he settled the pillows, and she lay down, and he covered her up; andas he did so, in spite of his anger with her and all his hurt pride hehad the most maddeningly strong desire to kiss her and let her rest inhis arms. So he turned away brusquely and sat down at the farther end, where he opened the window to let in some air, and pulled the curtainover it, and then tried to go on with his book. But every pulse in hisbody was throbbing, and at last he could not control the overmasteringdesire to look at her. 

She raised herself a little, and began taking the finely-worked, small-stoned, sapphire pins out of her hat. They had been Cyril's gift. 

"Can I help you?" he said. 

"It is such soft fur I thought I need not take it off to lie down, " sheanswered coldly, "but there is something hurting in the back. "

He took the thing with its lace veil from her, and the ruffled waves ofher glorious hair as she lay there nearly drove him mad with the longingto caress. 

How, in God's name, would they ever be able to live? He must go outsideand fight with himself. 

And she wondered why his face grew so stern. And when she was settledcomfortably again and the boat had started he left her alone. 

It was, fortunately, so rough that there were very few people about, andhe went far forward and leant on the rail, and let the salt air blowinto his face. 

What if, in the end, this wild passion for her should conquer him and heshould give in, and have to confess that her cruel words did not hinderhim from loving her? It would be too ignominious. He must pull himselftogether and firmly suppress every emotion. He determined to see her aslittle as possible when they got to Paris, and when the ghastlyhoneymoon week, that he had been contemplating with so much excitementand joy should be over, then they would go back to England, and he wouldtake up politics in earnest, and try and absorb himself in that. 

And Zara, lying in the cabin, was unconscious of any direct current ofthought; she was quite unconscious that already this beautiful younghusband of hers had made some impression upon her, and that, underneath, for all her absorption in her little brother and her own affairs, shewas growing conscious of his presence and that his comings and goingswere things to remark about. 

And, strengthened in his resolve to be true to the Tancred pride, Tristram came back to her as they got into Calais harbor. 

CHAPTER XVIII

The servants at the Ritz, in Paris, so exquisitely drilled, made noapparent difference, when the bride and bridegroom arrived there abouthalf-past seven o'clock, than if they had been an elderly brother andsister; and they were taken to the beautiful Empire suite on the Vendômeside of the first floor. Everything was perfection in the way ofarrangement, and the flowers were so particularly beautiful that Zara'slove for them caused her to cry out, "Oh! the dear roses! I must just bury my face in them, first. "

They had got through the railway journey very well; real, overcomingfatigue had caused them both to sleep, and in the automobile, coming tothe hotel, they had exchanged a few stiff words. 

"To-morrow night we can dine out at a restaurant, " Tristram had said, "but to-night perhaps you are tired and would rather go to bed?"

"Thank you, " said Zara. "Yes, I would. " For she thought she wanted towrite her letters to Mirko and tell him of her new name and place. Soshe put on a tea-gown, and at about half-past eight joined Tristram inthe sitting-room. If they had not both been so strained their sense ofhumor would not have permitted them to refrain from a laugh. For herethey sat in state, and, when the waiters were in the room, exchanged afew remarks. But Zara did notice that her husband never once looked ather with any directness, and he seemed coldly indifferent to anythingshe said. 

"We shall have to stay here for the whole, boring week, " he announcedwhen at last coffee was on the table and they were alone. "There arecertain obligations one's position obliges one to conform to. Youunderstand, I expect. I will try to make the time as easy to bear foryou as I can. Will you tell me what theaters you have not already seen?We can go somewhere every night, and in the daytime you have perhapsshopping to do; and--I know Paris quite well. I can amuse myself. "

Zara did not feel enthusiastically grateful, but she said, "Thank you, "in a quiet voice, and Tristram, rang the bell and asked for the list ofthe places of amusement, and in the most stiff, self-contained manner hechose, with her, a different one for every night. 

Then he lit a cigar deliberately, and walked towards the door. 

"Good-night, Milady, " he said nonchalantly, and then went out. 

And Zara sat still by the table and unconsciously pulled the petals offan unoffending rose; and when she realized what she had done she wasaghast!

It was not until about five o'clock the next day that he came into thesitting-room again. 

_Milor_ had gone to the races, and had left a note for _Miladi_ in themorning, the maid had said. 

And Zara, as she lay back on her pillows, had opened it with a strangethrill. 

"You won't be troubled with me to-day, " she read. "I am going out withsome old friends to Maisons Liafitte. I have said you want to rest fromthe journey, as one has to say something. I have arranged for us todine at the Café de Paris at 7:30, and go to the Gymnâse. Tell Higgins, my valet, if you change the plan. " And the note was not even signed!

Well, it appeared she had nothing further to fear from him; she couldbreathe much relieved. And now for her day of quiet rest. 

But when she had had her lonely lunch and her letters to her uncle andMirko were written, she found herself drumming aimlessly on the windowpanes, and wondering if she would go out. 

She had no friends in Paris whom she wanted to see. Her life there withher family had been entirely devoted to them alone. But it was a fineday and there is always something to do in Paris--though what then, particularly, she had not decided; perhaps she would go to the Louvre. 

And then she sank down into the big sofa, opposite the blazing woodfire, and gradually fell fast asleep. She slept, with unbroken deepness, until late in the afternoon, and was, in fact, still asleep there whenTristram came in. 

He did not see her at first; the lights were not on and it was almostdark in the streets. The fire, too, had burnt low. He came forward, andthen went back again and switched on the lamps; and, with the blaze, Zara sat up and rubbed her eyes. One great plait of her hair had becomeloosened and fell at the side of her head, and she looked like a rosy, sleepy child. 

"I did not see you!" Tristram gasped, and, realizing her adorableattractions, he turned to the fire and vigorously began making it up. 

Then, as he felt he could not trust himself for another second, he rangthe bell and ordered some tea to be brought, while he went to his roomto leave his overcoat. And when he thought the excuse of the repastwould be there, he went back. 

Zara felt nothing in particular. Even yet she was rather on thedefensive, looking out for every possible attack. 

So they both sat down quietly, and for a few moments neither spoke. 

She had put up her hair during his absence, and now looked wide-awakeand quite neat. 

"I had a most unlucky day, " he said--for something to say. "I could notback a single winner. On the whole I think I am bored with racing. "

"It has always seemed boring to me, " she said. "If it were to try themettle of a horse one had bred I could understand that; or to ride itoneself and get the better of an adversary: but just with sharppractices--and for money! It seems so common a thing, I never could takean interest in that. "

"Does anything interest you?" he hazarded, and then he felt sorry he hadshown enough interest to ask. 

"Yes, " she said slowly, "but perhaps not many games. My life has alwaysbeen too ordered by the games of others, to take to them myself. " Andthen she stopped abruptly. She could not suppose her life interested himmuch. 

But, on the contrary, he was intensely interested, if she had known. 

He felt inclined to tell her so, and that the whole of the presentsituation was ridiculous, and that he wanted to know her innermostthoughts. He was beginning to examine her all critically, and to take inevery point. Beyond his passionate admiration for her beauty there wassomething more to analyze. 

What was the subtle something of mystery and charm? Why could she notunbend and tell him the meaning in those fathomless, dark eyes?--Whatcould they look like, if filled with love and tenderness? Ah!

And if he had done as he felt inclined at the moment the ice might havebeen broken, and at the end of the week they would probably have been ineach other's arms. But fate ordered otherwise, and an incident thatnight, at dinner, caused a fresh storm. 

Zara was looking so absolutely beautiful in her lovely new clothes thatit was not in the nature of gallant foreigners to allow her to dineunmolested by their stares, and although the tête-à-tête dinner wasquite early at the Café de Paris, there happened to be a large party ofmen next to them and Zara found herself seated in close proximity to anondescript Count, whom she recognized as one of her late husband'sfriends. Every one who knows the Café de Paris can realize how thishappened. The long velvet seats without divisions and the small tablesin front make, when the place is full, the whole side look as if it wereone big group. Lord Tancred was quite accustomed to it; he knew Pariswell as he had told her, so he ought to have been prepared for whatcould happen, but he was not. 

Perhaps he was not on the alert, because he had never before been therewith a woman he loved. 

Zara's neighbor was a great, big, fierce-looking creature from some wildquarter of the South, and was perhaps also just a little drunk. She knewa good deal of their language, but, taking for granted that thisEnglishman and his lovely lady would be quite ignorant of what theysaid, the party of men were most unreserved in their remarks. 

Her neighbor looked at her devouringly, once or twice, when he sawTristram could not observe him, and then began to murmur immensely_entreprenant_ love sentences in his own tongue, as he played with hisbread. She knew he had recognized her. And Tristram wondered why hislady's little nostrils should begin to quiver and her eyes to flash. 

She was remembering like scenes in the days of Ladislaus, and how heused to grow wild with jealousy, in the beginning when he took her out, and once had dragged her back upstairs by her hair, and flung her intobed. It was always her fault when men looked at her, he assured her. Andthe horror of the recollection of it all was still vivid enough. 

Then Tristram gradually became greatly worried; without being aware thatthe man was the cause, he yet felt something was going on. He grewjealous and uneasy, and would have liked to have taken her home. 

And because of the things she was angrily listening to, and because ofher fear of a row, she sat there looking defiant and resentful, andspoke never a word. 

And Tristram could not understand it, and he eventually became annoyed. What had he said or done to her again? It was more than he meant tostand, for no reason--to put up with such airs!

For Zara sat frowning, her mouth mutinous and her eyes black as night. 

If she had told Tristram what her neighbor was saying there would atonce have been a row. She knew this, and so remained in constrainedsilence, unconscious that her husband was thinking her rude to him, andthat he was angry with her. She was so strung up with fury at theforeigner, that she answered Tristram's few remarks at random, and thenabruptly rose while he was paying the bill, as if to go out. And as shedid so the Count slipped a folded paper into the sleeve of her coat. 

Tristram thought he saw something peculiar but was still in doubt, and, with his English self-control and horror of a scene, he followed hiswife to the door, as she was walking rapidly ahead, and there helped herinto the waiting automobile. 

But as she put up her arm, in stepping in, the folded paper fell to thebrightly lighted pavement and he picked it up. 

He must have some explanation. He was choking with rage. There was somemystery, he was being tricked. 

"Why did you not tell me you knew that fellow who sat next to you?" hesaid in a low, constrained voice. 

"Because it would have been a lie, " she said haughtily. "I have neverseen him but once before in my life. "

"Then what business have you to allow him to write notes to you?"Tristram demanded, too overcome with jealousy to control the anger inhis tone. 

She shrank back in her corner. Here it was beginning again! After all, in spite of his apparent agreement to live on the most frigid terms withher he was now acting like Ladislaus: men were all the same!

"I am not aware the creature wrote me any note, " she said. "What do youmean?"

"How can you pretend like this, " Tristram exclaimed furiously, "when itfell out of your sleeve? Here it is. "

"Take me back to the hotel, " she said with a tone of ice. "I refuse togo to the theater to be insulted. How dare you doubt my word? If thereis a note you had better read it and see what it says. "

[Illustration: "With his English self-control and horror of a scene, hefollowed his wife to the door. "]

So Lord Tancred picked up the speaking-tube and told the chauffeur to goback to the Ritz. 

They both sat silent, palpitating with rage, and when they got there hefollowed her into the lift and up to the sitting-room. 

He came in and shut the door and strode over beside her, and then healmost hissed, "You are asking too much of me. I demand an explanation. Tell meyourself about it. Here is your note. "

Zara took it, with infinite disdain, and, touching it as though it weresome noisome reptile, she opened it and read aloud, _"Beautiful Comtesse, when can I see you again?"_

"The vile wretch!" she said contemptuously. "That is how men insultwomen!" And she looked up passionately at Tristram. "You are all thesame. "

"I have not insulted you, " he flashed. "It is perfectly natural that Ishould be angry at such a scene, and if this brute is to be found againto-night he shall know that I will not permit him to write insolentnotes to my wife. "

She flung the hateful piece of paper into the fire and turned towardsher room. 

"I beg you to do nothing further about the matter, " she said. "Thisloathsome man was half drunk. It is quite unnecessary to follow it up;it will only make a scandal, and do no good. But you can understandanother thing. I will not have my word doubted, nor be treated as anoffending domestic--as you have treated me to-night. " And withoutfurther words she went into her room. 

Tristram, left alone, paced up and down; he was wild with rage, furiouswith her, with himself, and with the man. With her because he had toldher once, before the wedding, that when they came to cross swords therewould be no doubt as to who would be master! and in the three encounterswhich already their wills had had she had each time come off theconqueror! He was furious with himself, that he had not leaned forwardat dinner to see the man hand the note, and he was frenziedly furiouswith the stranger, that he had dared to turn his insolent eyes upon hiswife. 

He would go back to the Café de Paris, and, if the man was there, callhim to account, and if not, perhaps he could obtain his name. So out hewent. 

But the waiters vowed they knew nothing of the gentleman; the wholeparty had been perfect strangers, and they had no idea as to where theyhad gone on. So this enraged young Englishman spent the third night ofhis honeymoon in a hunt round the haunts of Paris, but with no success;and at about six o'clock in the morning came back baffled but stillraging, and thoroughly wearied out. 

And all this while his bride could not sleep, and in spite of her angerwas a prey to haunting fears. What if the two had met and there had beenbloodshed! A completely possible case! And several times in the nightshe got out of her bed and went and listened at the communicating doors;but there was no sound of Tristram, and about five o'clock, worn outwith the anxiety and injustice of everything, she fell into a restlessdoze, only to wake again at seven, with a lead weight at her heart. Shecould not bear it any longer! She must know for certain if he had comein! She slipped on her dressing-gown, and noiselessly stole to the door, and with the greatest caution unlocked it, and, turning the handle, peeped in. 

Yes, there he was, sound asleep! His window was wide open, with thecurtains pushed back, so the daylight streamed in on his face. He hadbeen too tired to care. 

Zara turned round quickly to reenter her room, but in her terror ofbeing discovered she caught the trimming of her dressing-gown on thehandle of the door and without her being aware of it a small bunch ofworked ribbon roses fell off. 

Then she got back into bed, relieved in mind as to him but absolutelyquaking at what she had done and at the impossibly embarrassing positionshe would have placed herself in, if he had awakened and known that shehad come!

And the first thing Tristram saw, when some hours later he was arousedby the pouring in of the sun, was the little torn bunch of silk roseslying close to her door. 

CHAPTER XIX

He sprang from bed and picked them up. What could they possibly mean?They were her roses, certainly--he remembered she wore the dressing-gownthat first evening at Dover, when he had gone to her to give her thegardenias. And they certainly had not been there when at six o'clock hehad come in. He would in that case have seen them against the palecarpet. 

For one exquisite moment he thought they were a message and then henoticed the ribbon had been wrenched off and was torn. 

No, they were no conscious message, but they did mean that she had beenin his room while he slept. 

Why had she done this thing? He knew she hated him--it was noacting--and she had left him the night' before even unusually incensed. What possible reason could she have, then, for coming into his room? Hefelt wild with excitement. He would see if, as usual, the door betweenthem was locked. He tried it gently. Yes, it was. 

And Zara heard him from her side, and stiffened in her bed with all theexpression of a fierce wolfhound putting its hackles up. 

Yes, the danger of the ways of men was not over! If she had notunconsciously remembered to lock the door when she had returned from herterrifying adventure he would have come in!

So these two thrilled with different emotions and trembled, and therewas the locked harrier between them. And then Tristram rang for hisvalet and ordered his bath. He would dress quickly, and ask casually ifshe would breakfast in the sitting-room. It was so late, almost eleven, and they could have it at twelve upstairs--not in the restaurant as hehad yesterday intended. He must find out about the roses; he could notendure to pass the whole day in wonder and doubt. 

And Zara, too, started dressing. It was better under the circumstancesto be armed at all points, and she felt safer and calmer with Henriettein the room. 

So a few minutes before twelve they met in the sitting-room. 

Her whole expression was on the defensive: he saw that at once. 

The waiters would be coming in with the breakfast soon. Would there betime to talk to her, or had he better postpone it until they werecertain to be alone? He decided upon this latter course, and just said acold "Good morning, " and turned to the _New York Herald_ and looked atthe news. 

Zara felt more reassured. 

So they presently sat down to their breakfast, each ready to play thegame. 

They spoke of the theaters--the one they had arranged to go to thisSaturday night was causing all Paris to laugh. 

"It will be a jolly good thing to laugh, " Tristram said--and Zaraagreed. 

He made no allusion to the events of the night before, and she hardlyspoke at all. And at last the repast was over, and the waiters had leftthe room. 

Tristram got up, after his coffee and liqueur, but he lit no cigar; hewent to one of the great windows which look out on the Colonne Vendôme, and then he came back. Zara was sitting upon the heliotrope Empire sofaand had picked up the paper again. 

He stood before her, with an expression upon his face which ought tohave melted any woman. 

"Zara, " he said softly, "I want you to tell me, why did you come into myroom?"

Her great eyes filled with startled horror and surprise, and her whitecheeks grew bright pink with an exquisite flush. 

"I?"--and she clenched her hands. How did he know? Had he seen her, then? But he evidently did know, and there was no use to lie. "I wasso--frightened--that--"

Tristram took a step nearer and sat down by her side. He saw theconfession was being dragged from her, and he gloried in it and wouldnot help her out. 

She moved further from him, then, with grudging reluctance, shecontinued, "There can be such unpleasant quarrels with those horrible men. It--wasso very late--I--I--wished to be sure that you had come safely in. "

Then she looked down, and the rose died out of her face, leaving it verywhite. 

And if Tristram's pride in the decision he had come to, on the fatalwedding night, that she must make the first advances before he wouldagain unbend, had not held him, he would certainly have riskedeverything and clasped her in his arms. As it was, he resisted theintense temptation to do so, and made himself calm, while he answered, "It mattered to you, then, in some way, that I should not come to harm?"

He was still sitting on the sofa near her, and that magnetic essencewhich is in propinquity appealed to her; ignorant of all such emotionsas she was she only knew something had suddenly made her feel nervous, and that her heart was thumping in her side. 

"Yes, of course it mattered, " she faltered, and then went on coldly, ashe gave a glad start; "scandals are so unpleasant--scenes and all thosethings are so revolting. I had to endure many of them in my formerlife. "

Oh! so that was it! Just for fear of a scandal and because she had knowndisagreeable things! Not a jot of feeling for himself! And Tristram gotup quickly and walked to the fireplace. He was cut to the heart. 

The case was utterly hopeless, he felt. He was frozen and stung eachtime he even allowed himself to be human and hope for anything. But hewas a strong man, and this should be the end of it. He would not betortured again. 

He took the little bunch of flowers out of his pocket and handed it toher quietly, while his face was full of pain. 

"Here is the proof you left me of your kind interest, " he told her. "Perhaps your maid will miss it and wish to sew it on. " And then withoutanother word he went out of the room. 

Zara, left alone, sat staring into the fire. What did all this mean? Shefelt very unhappy, but not angry or alarmed. She did not want to hurthim. Had she been very unkind? After all, he had behaved, in comparisonto Ladislaus, with wonderful self-control--and--yes, supposing he werenot quite a sensual brute she had been very hard. She knew what pridemeant; she had abundance herself, and she realized for the first timehow she must have been stinging his. 

But there were facts which could not be got over. He had married her forher uncle's money and then shown at once that her person tempted him, when it could not be anything else. 

She got up and walked about the room. There was a scent of himsomewhere--the scent of a fine cigar. She felt uneasy of she knew notwhat. Did she wish him to come back? Was she excited? Should she go out?And then, for no reason on earth, she suddenly burst into tears. 

 * * * * *

They met for dinner, and she herself had never looked or been more icycold than Tristram was. They went down into the restaurant and there, ofcourse, he encountered some friends dining, too, in a merry party; andhe nodded gayly to them and told her casually who they were, and thenwent on with his dinner. His manner had lost its constraint, it was justcasually indifferent. And soon they started for the theater, and it washe who drew as far away as he could, when they got into the automobile. 

They had a box--and the piece had begun. It was one of those impossiblyamusing Paris farces, on the borderland of all convention but sointensely comic that none could help their mirth, and Tristram shookwith laughter and forgot for the time that he was a most miserable youngman. And even Zara laughed. But it did not melt things between them. Tristram's feelings had been too wounded for any ordinary circumstancesto cause him to relent. 

"Do you care for some supper?" he said coldly when they came out. Butshe answered. "No, " so he took her back, and as far as the lift where heleft her, politely saying "Good night, " and she saw him disappeartowards the door, and knew he had again gone out. 

And going on to the sitting-room alone, she found the English mail hadcome in, and there were the letters on the table, at least a dozen forTristram, as she sorted them out--a number in women's handwriting--andbut two for herself. One was from her uncle, full of agreeablecongratulations subtly expressed; and the other, forwarded from ParkLane, from Mirko, as yet ignorant of her change of state, a small, funny, pathetic letter that touched her heart. He was better, and againable to go out, and in a fortnight Agatha, the little daughter of theMorleys, would be returning, and he could play with her. That might be ajoy--girls were not so tiresome and did not make so much noise as boys. 

Zara turned to the piano, which she had not yet opened, and sat down andcomforted herself with the airs she loved; and the maid who listened, while she waited for her mistress to be undressed, turned up her eyes inwonder. 

_"Quel drôle de couple!"_ she said. 

And Tristram reencountered his friends and went off with them to sup. 

Her ladyship was tired, he told them, and had gone to bed. And two ofthe Englishwomen who knew him quite well teased him and said howbeautiful his bride was and how strange-looking, and what an iceberg hemust be to be able to come out to supper and leave her alone! And theywondered why he then smiled cynically. 

"For, " said one to the other on their way home, "the new Lady Tancred isperfectly beautiful! Fancy, Gertrude, Tristram leaving her for a minute!And did you ever see such a face? It looks anything but cold. "

Zara was wide-awake when, about two, he came in. She heard him in thesitting-room and suddenly became conscious that her thoughts had beenwith him ever since she went to bed, and not with Mirko and his letter. 

She supposed he was now reading his pile of correspondence--he had suchnumbers of fond friends! And then she heard him shut the door, and goround into his room; but the carpets were very thick and she heard nomore. 

If she could have seen what happened beyond that closed door, would ithave opened her eyes, or made her happy? Who can tell?

For Higgins, with methodical tidiness, had emptied the pockets of thecoat his master had worn in the day, and there on top of a letter or twoand a card-case was one tiny pink rose, a wee bud that had becomedetached from the torn bunch. 

And when Tristram saw it his heart gave a great bound. So it had stayedbehind, when he had returned the others, and was there now to hurt himwith remembrance of what might have been! He was unable to control theviolent emotion which shook him. He went to the window and opened itwide: the moon was rather over, but still blazed in the sky. Then hebent down and passionately kissed the little bud, while a scorching mistgathered in his eyes. 

CHAPTER XX

So at last the Wednesday morning came--and they could go back toEngland. From that Saturday night until they left Paris Tristram'smanner of icy, polite indifference to his bride never changed. She hadno more quaking shocks nor any fear of too much ardor! He avoided everypossible moment of her society he could, and when forced to be with herseemed aloof and bored. 

And the freezing manner of Zara was caused no longer by haughtyself-defense but because she was unconsciously numb at heart. 

Unknown, undreamed-of emotion came over her, whenever she chanced tofind him close, and during his long absences her thoughts followedhim--sometimes with wonderment. 

Just as they were going down to start for the train on the Wednesdaymorning a telegram was put into her hand. It was addressed "La Baronnede Tancred, " and she guessed at once this would be Mimo's idea of hername. Tristram, who was already down the steps by the concierge's desk, turned and saw her open it, with a look of intense strain. He saw thatas she read her eyes widened and stared out in front of them for amoment, and that her face grew pale. 

For Mimo had wired, "Mirko not quite so well. " She crumpled the bluepaper in her hand, and followed her husband through the bowing personnelof the hotel into the automobile. She controlled herself and was evenable to give one of her rare smiles in farewell, but when they startedshe leaned back, and again her face went white. Tristram was moved. Whomwas her telegram from? She did not tell him and he would not ask, butthe feeling that there were in her life, things and interests of whichhe knew nothing did not please him. And this particular thing--what wasit? Was it from a man? It had caused her some deep emotion--he couldplainly see that. He longed to ask her but was far too proud, and theirterms had grown so distant he hardly liked to express even solicitude, which, however, he did. 

"I hope you have not had any bad news?"

Then she turned her eyes upon him, and he saw that she had hardly heardhim; they looked blank. 

"What?" she asked vaguely; and then, recollecting herself confusedly, she went on, "No--not exactly--but something about which I must think. "

So he was shut out of her confidence. He felt that, and carefullyavoided taking any further notice of her. 

When they got to the station he suddenly perceived she was not followinghim as he made way for her in the crowd, but had gone over to thetelegraph office by herself. 

He waited and fumed. It was evidently something about which she wishedno one to see what she wrote, for she could perfectly well have giventhe telegram to Higgins to take, who would be waiting by the saloondoor. 

She returned in a few moments, and she saw that Tristram's face was verystern. It did not strike her that he was jealous about the mystery ofthe telegram; she thought he was annoyed at her for not coming on incase they should be late, so she said hurriedly, "There is plenty oftime. "

"Naturally, " he answered stiffly as they walked along, "but it is quiteunnecessary for Lady Tancred to struggle through this rabble and taketelegrams herself. Higgins could have done it when we were settled inthe train. "

And with unexpected meekness all she said was, "I am very sorry. "

So the incident ended there--but not the uneasy impression it left. 

Tristram did not even make a pretense of reading the papers when thetrain moved on; he sat there staring in front of him, with his handsomeface shadowed by a moody frown. And any close observer who knew himwould have seen that there was a change in his whole expression, sincethe same time the last week. 

The impossible disappointment of everything! What kind of a nature couldhis wife have, to be so absolutely mute and unresponsive as she hadbeen? He felt glad he had not given her the chance to snub him again. These last days he had been able to keep to his determination, and atall events did not feel himself humiliated. How long would it be beforehe should cease to care for her? He hoped to God--soon, because thestrain of crushing his passionate desires was one which no man couldstand long. 

The little, mutinous face, with its alluring, velvet, white skin, herslightly full lips, all curved and red, and tempting, and anything butcold in shape, and the extraordinary magnetic attraction of her wholepersonality, made her a most dangerous thing; and then his thoughtsturned to the vision of her hair undone that he had had on that firstevening at Dover. He had said once to Francis Markrute, he remembered, that these great passions were "storybook stuff. " Good God! Well, inthose days he had not known. 

He thought, as he returned from his honeymoon this day, that he couldnot be more frightfully unhappy, but he was really only beginning theanguish of the churning of his soul--if he had known. 

And Zara sat in her armchair, and pretended to read; but when he glancedat her he saw that it was a farce and that her expressive eyes wereagain quite blank. 

And finally, after the uncomfortable hours, they arrived at Calais andwent to the boat. 

Here Zara seemed to grow anxious again and on the alert, and, steppingforward, asked Higgins to inquire if there was a telegram for her, addressed to the ship. But there was not, and she subsided once morequietly and sat in their cabin. 

Tristram did not even attempt to play the part of the returningbridegroom beyond the ordinary seeing to her comfort about which he hadnever failed; he left her immediately and remained for all the voyage ondeck. 

And when they reached Dover Zara's expectancy showed again, but it wasnot until they were just leaving the station that a telegram was thrustthrough the window and he took it from the boy, while he could not helpnoticing the foreign form of address. And a certainty grew in his brainthat it was "that same cursed man!"

He watched her face as she read it, and noticed the look of relief as, quite unconscious of his presence, his bride absently spread the paperout. And although deliberately to try and see what was written was notwhat he would ever have done, his eyes caught the signature, "Mimo, "before he was aware of it. 

Mimo--that was the brute's name!

And what could he say or do? They were not really husband and wife, andas long as she did nothing to disgrace the Tancred honor he had no validreason for questions or complaints. 

But he burnt with suspicion, and jealousy, and pain. 

Then he thought over what Francis Markrute had said the first evening, when he had agreed to the marriage. He remembered how he had not felt itwould be chivalrous or honorable to ask any questions, once he hadblindly gone the whole length and settled she should be his; but howFrancis had gratuitously informed him that she had been an immaculatewife until a year ago, and married to an unspeakable brute. 

He knew the financier very well, and knew that he was, with all hissubtle cleverness, a man of spotless honor. Evidently, then, if therewas anything underneath he was unaware of it. But was there anything?Even though he was angry and suspicious he realized that the bearing ofhis wife was not guilty or degraded. She was a magnificently proud andnoble-looking creature, but perhaps even the noblest women could stoopto trick from--love! And this thought caused him to jump upsuddenly--much to Zara's astonishment. And she saw the veins show on theleft side of his temple as in a knot, a peculiarity, like the horseshoeof the Redgauntlets, which ran in the Tancred race. 

Then he felt how foolish he was, causing himself suffering over animaginary thing; and here this piece of white marble sat opposite him incold silence, while his being was wrung! He suddenly understoodsomething which he had never done before, when he read of such thingsin the papers--how, passionately loving, a man could yet kill the thinghe loved. 

And Zara, comforted by the telegram, "Much better again to-day, " hadleisure to return to the subject which had lately begun unconsciously toabsorb her--the subject of her lord!

She wondered what made him look so stern. His nobly-cut face was asthough it were carved in stone. Just from an abstract, artistic point ofview, she told herself, she honestly admired him and his type. It wasfiner than any other race could produce and she was glad she was halfEnglish, too. The lines were so slender and yet so strong; and everybone balanced--and the look of superb health and athletic strength. 

Such must have been the young Greeks who ran in the Gymnasium at Athens, she thought. 

And then, suddenly, an intense quiver of unknown emotion rushed overher. And if at that moment he had clasped her and kissed her, instead ofsitting there glaring into space, the rest of this story need never havebeen written!

But the moment passed, and she crushed whatever it was she felt of thedawning of love, and he dominated the uneasy suspicions of her fidelity;and they got out of the train at Charing Cross--after their remarkablewedding journey. 

CHAPTER XXI

Francis Markrute's moral antennae upon which he prided himself informedhim that all was not as it should be between this young bride andbridegroom. Zara seemed to have acquired in this short week even anextra air of regal dignity, aided by her perfect clothes; and Tristramlooked stern, and less joyous and more haughty than he had done. Andthey were both so deadly cold, and certainly constrained! It was not oneof the financier's habits ever to doubt himself or his deductions. Theywere based upon far too sound reasoning. No, if something had gone wrongor had not yet evolutionized it was only for the moment and need causeno philosophical _deus ex machina_ any uneasiness. 

For it was morally and physically impossible that such a perfectlydeveloped pair of the genus human being could live together in the bondsof marriage, and not learn to love. 

Meanwhile, it was his business as the friend and uncle of the two to begenial and make things go on greased wheels. 

So he exerted himself to talk at dinner--their dinner _à trois_--. Hetold them all the news that had happened during the week--Was it only aweek--Zara and Tristram both thought!

How there were rumors that in the coming spring there might be a generalelection, and that the Radicals were making fresh plots to ruin thecountry; but there was to be no autumn session, and, as usual, theparty to which they all had the honor to belong was half asleep. 

And then the two men grew deep in a political discussion, so as soon asZara had eaten her peach she said she would leave them to their talk, and say "Good night, " as she was tired out. 

"Yes, my niece, " said her uncle who had risen. And he did what he hadnot done since she was a child, he stooped and kissed her whiteforehead. "Yes, indeed, you must go and rest. We both want you to do usjustice to-morrow, don't we, Tristram? We must have our special ladylooking her best. "

And she smiled a faint smile as she passed from the room. 

"By George! my dear boy, " the financier went on, "I don't believe I everrealized what a gorgeously beautiful creature my niece is. She is likesome wonderful exotic blossom--a mass of snow and flame!"

And Tristram said with unconscious cynicism, "Certainly snow--but where is the flame?"

Francis Markrute looked at him out of the corners of his clever eyes. She had been icy to him in Paris, then! But his was not the temperamentto interfere. It was only a question of time. After all, a week was notlong to grow accustomed to a perfect stranger. 

Then they went back to the library, and smoked for an hour or so andcontinued their political chat; and at last Markrute said to his newnephew-in-law blandly, "In a year or so, when you and Zara have a son, I will give you, my dearboy, some papers to read which will interest you as showing the mother'sside of his lineage. It will be a fit balance, as far as actual bloodgoes, to your own. "

In a year or so, when Zara should have a son!

Of all the aspects of the case, which her pride and disdain had robbedhim of, this, Tristram felt, was perhaps--though it had not beforepresented itself to him--the most cruel. He would have no son!

He got up suddenly and threw his unfinished cigar into the grate--thatold habit of his when he was moved--and he said in a voice that thefinancier knew was strained, "That is awfully good of you. I shall have to have it inserted in thefamily tree--some day. But now I think I shall turn in. I want to havemy eye rested, and be as fit as a fiddle for the shoot. I have had atiring week. "

And Francis Markrute came out with him into the passage and up to thefirst floor, and when they got so far they heard the notes of the_Chanson Triste_ being played again from Zara's sitting-room. She hadnot gone to bed, then, it seemed!

"Good God!" said Tristram. "I don't know why, but I wish to heaven shewould not play that tune. "

And the two men looked at one another with some uneasy wonder in theireyes. 

"Go on and take her to bed, " the financier suggested. "Perhaps she doesnot like being left so long alone. "

Tristram went upstairs with a bitter laugh to himself. 

He did not go near the sitting-room; he went straight into the roomwhich had been allotted to himself: and a savage sense of humiliationand impotent rage convulsed him. 

The next day, the express which would stop for them at Tylling Green, the little station for Montfitchet, started at two o'clock, and thefinancier had given orders to have an early lunch at twelve before theyleft. He, himself, went off to the City for half an hour to read hisletters, at ten o'clock, and was surprised when he asked Turner if Lordand Lady Tancred had break-fasted to hear that her ladyship had gone outat half-past nine o'clock and that his lordship had given orders to hisvalet not to disturb him, in his lordship's room--and here Turnercoughed--until half-past ten. 

"See that they have everything they want, " his master said, and thenwent out. But when he was in his electric brougham, gliding eastwards, he frowned to himself. 

"The proud, little minx! So she has insisted upon keeping to thebusiness bargain up till now, has she!" he thought. "If it goes on weshall have to make her jealous. That would be an infallible remedy forher caprice. "

But Zara was not concerned with such things at all for the moment. Shewas waiting anxiously for Mimo at their trysting-place, the mausoleum ofHalicarnassus in the British Museum, and he was late. He would have thelast news of Mirko. No reply had awaited her to her telegram to Mrs. Morley from Paris, and it had been too late to wire again last night. And Mrs. Morley must have got the telegram, because Mimo had got his. 

Some day, she hoped--when she could grow perhaps more friendly with herhusband--she would get her uncle to let her tell him about Mirko. Itwould make everything so much more simple as regards seeing him, andwhy, since the paper was all signed and nothing could be altered, shouldthere be any mystery now? Only, her uncle had said the day before thewedding, "I beg of you not to mention the family disgrace of your mother to yourhusband nor speak to him of the man Sykypri for a good long time--if youever need. "

And she had acquiesced. 

"For, " Francis Markrute had reasoned to himself, "if the boy dies, asMorley thinks there is every likelihood that he will, why shouldTristram ever know?"

The disgrace of his adored sister always made him wince. 

Mimo came at last, looking anxious and haggard, and not his debonairself. Yes, he had had a telegram that morning. He had sent one, as hewas obliged to do, in her name, and hence the confusion in the answer. Mrs. Morley had replied to the Neville Street address, and Zara wonderedif she knew London very well and would see how impossible such alocality would be for the Lady Tancred!

But Mirko was better--decidedly better--the attack had again been veryshort. So she felt reassured for the moment, and was preparing to gowhen she remembered that one of the things she had come for was to giveMimo some money in notes which she had prepared for him; but, knowingthe poor gentleman's character, she was going to do it delicately bybuying the "Apache!" For she was quite aware that just money, for him tolive, now that it was not a question of the welfare of Mirko, he wouldnever accept from her. In such unpractical, sentimental ways doesbreeding show itself in some weak natures!

Mimo was almost suspicious of the transaction, and she was obliged tosoothe and flatter him by saying that he must surely always haveunderstood how intensely she had admired that work; and now she was richit would be an everlasting pleasure to her to own it for her very own. So poor Mimo _was_ comforted, and they parted after a while, allarrangements having been made that the telegrams--should any morecome--were to go first, addressed to her at Neville Street, so that thepoor father should see them and then send them on. 

And as it was now past eleven o'clock Zara returned quickly back to ParkLane and was coming in at the door just as her husband was descendingthe stairs. 

"You are up very early, Milady, " he said casually, and because of theservants in the hall she felt it would look better to follow him intothe library. 

Tristram was surprised at this and he longed to ask her where she hadbeen, but she did not tell him; she just said, "What time do we arrive at your uncle's? Is it five or six?"

"It only takes three hours. We shall be in about five. And, Zara, I wantyou to wear the sable coat. I think it suits you better than thechinchilla you had when we left. "

A little pink came into her cheeks. This was the first time he had everspoken of her clothes; and to hide the sudden strange emotion she felt, she said coldly. 

"Yes, I intended to. I shall always hate that chinchilla coat. "

And he turned away to the window, stung again by her words which she hadsaid unconsciously. The chinchilla had been her conventional "goingaway" bridal finery. That was, of course, why she hated the remembranceof it. 

As soon as she had said the words she felt sorry. What on earth made herso often wound him? She did not know it was part of the same instinct ofself-defense which had had to make up her whole attitude towards life. Only this time it was unconsciously to hide and so defend the newemotion which was creeping into her heart. 

He stayed with his back turned, looking out of the window; so, afterwaiting a moment, she went from the room. 

At the station they found Jimmy Danvers, and a Mr. And Mrs. Harcourtwith the latter's sister, Miss Opie, and several men. The rest of theparty, including Emily and Mary, Jimmy told them, had gone down by theeleven o'clock train. 

Both Mrs. Harcourt and her sister and, indeed, the whole company wereTristram's old and intimate friends and they were so delighted to seehim, and chaffed and were gay, and Zara watched, and saw that her uncleentered into the spirit of the fun in the saloon, and only she was astranger and out in the cold. 

As for Tristram, he seemed to become a different person to the stern, constrained creature of the past week, and he sat in a corner with Mrs. Harcourt, and bent over her and chaffed and whispered in her ear, andshe--Zara--was left primly in one of the armchairs, a little aloof. Butsuch a provoking looking type of beauty as hers did not long leave themen of the party cold to her charms; and soon Jimmy Danvers joined herand a Colonel Lowerby, commonly known as "the Crow, " and she held alittle court. But to relax and be genial and unregal was so difficultfor her, with the whole contrary training of all her miserable life. 

Hitherto men and, indeed, often women were things to be kept at adistance, as in one way or another they were sure to bite!

And after a while the party adjusted itself, some for bridge and somefor sleep; and Jimmy Danvers and Colonel Lowerby went into the smallcompartment to smoke. 

"Well, Crow, " said Jimmy, "what do you think of Tristram's new lady?Isn't she a wonder? But, Jehoshaphat! doesn't she freeze you to death!"

"Very curious type, " growled the Crow. "Bit of Vesuvius underneath, Iexpect. "

"Yes, that is what a fellow'd think to look at her, " Jimmy said, puffingat his cigarette. "But she keeps the crust on the top all the time; thebloomin' volcano don't get a chance!"

"She doesn't look stupid, " continued the Crow. "She looks stormy--expectit's pretty well worth while, though, when she melts. "

"Poor old Tristram don't look as if he had had a taste of paradise withhis houri, for his week, does he? Before we'd heartened him up on theplatform a bit--give you my word--he looked as mum as an owl, " Jimmysaid. "And she looked like an iceberg, as she's done all the time. I'venever seen her once warm up. "

"He's awfully in love with her, " grunted the Crow. 

"I believe that is about the measure, though I can't see how you'veguessed it. You had not got back for the wedding, Crow, and it don'tshow now. "

The Crow laughed--one of his chuckling, cynical laughs which to his dearfriend Lady Anningford meant so much that was in his mind. 

"Oh, doesn't it!" he said. 

"Well, tell me, what do you really think of her?" Jimmy went on. "Yousee, I was best man at the wedding, and I feel kind of responsible ifshe is going to make the poor, old boy awfully unhappy. "

"She's unhappy herself, " said the Crow. "It's because she is unhappyshe's so cold. She reminds me of a rough terrier I bought once, when Iwas a lad, from a particularly brutal bargeman. It snarled at every onewho came near it, before they could show if they were going to kick ornot, just from force of habit. "

"Well?" questioned Jimmy, who, as before has been stated, was ratherthick. 

"Well, after I had had it for a year it was the most faithful and thegentlest dog I ever owned. That sort of creature wants oceans ofkindness. Expect Tristram's pulled the curb--doesn't understand as yet. "

"Why, how could a person who must always have had heaps ofcash--Markrute's niece, you know--and a fine position be like your dog, Crow? You _are_ drawing it!"

"Well, you need not mind what I say, Jimmy, " Colonel Lowerby went on. "Judge for yourself. You asked my opinion, and as I am an old friend ofthe family I've given it, and time will show. "

"Lady Highford's going to be at Montfitchet, " Jimmy announced after apause. "She won't make things easy for any one, will she!"

"How did that happen?" asked the Crow in an astonished voice. 

"Ethelrida had asked her in the season, when every one supposed theaffair was still on, and I expect she would not let them put her off--"And then both men looked up at the door, for Tristram peeped in. 

"We shall be arriving in five minutes, you fellows, " he said. 

And soon they drew up at the little Tylling Green station, and thesaloon was switched off, while the express flew on to King's Lynn. 

There were motor cars and an omnibus to meet them, and Lady Ethelrida'sown comfortable coupé for the bridal pair. They might just want to say afew words together alone before arriving, she had kindly thought. Andso, though neither of the two were very eager for this tête-à-tête, theygot in and started off. The little coupé had very powerful engines andflew along, so they were well ahead of the rest of the party and wouldget to the house first, which was what the hostess had calculated upon. Then Tristram could have the pleasure of presenting his bride to theassembled company at tea, without the interruptions of the greetings ofthe other folk. 

Zara felt excited. She was beginning to realize that these Englishpeople were all of her dead father's class, not creatures whom one mustbeware of until one knew whether or not they were gamblers or rogues. And it made her breathe more freely, and the black panther's look diedout of her eyes. She did not feel nervous, as she well might havedone--only excited and highly worked up. Tristram, for his part, wishedto heaven Ethelrida had not arranged to send the coupé for them. It wassuch a terrible temptation for him to resist for five miles, sitting sonear her all alone in the dusk of the afternoon! He clenched his handsunder the rug, and drew as far away from her as he could; and sheglanced at him and wondered, almost timidly, why he looked so stern. 

"I hope you will tell me, if there is anything special you wish me todo, please?" she said. "Because, you see, I have never been in theEnglish country before, and my uncle has given me to understand thecustoms are different to those abroad. "

He felt he could not look at her; the unusual gentleness in her voicewas so alluring, and he had not forgotten the hurt of the chinchillacoat. If he relented in his attitude at all she would certainly snub himagain; so he continued staring in front of him, and answered ordinarily, "I expect you will do everything perfectly right, and every one willonly want to be kind to you, and make you have a good time; and my unclewill certainly make love to you but you must not mind that. "

And Zara allowed herself to smile as she answered, "No, I shall not in the least object to that!"

He knew she was smiling--out of the corner of his eye--and thetemptation to clasp her to him was so overpowering that he said ratherhoarsely, "Do you mind if I put the window down?"

He must have some air; he was choking. She wondered more and more whatwas the matter with him, and they both fell into a constrained silencewhich lasted until they turned into the park gates; and Zara peered outinto the ghostly trees, with their autumn leaves nearly off, and triedto guess from the lodge what the house would be like. 

It was very enormous and stately, she found when they reached it, and, she walking with her empress air and Tristram following her, they atlast came to the picture gallery where the rest of the party, who hadarrived earlier, were all assembled in the center, by one of the bigfireplaces, with their host and hostess having tea. 

The Duke and Lady Ethelrida came forward, down the very long, narrowroom (they had quite sixty feet to walk before they met them), andthen, when they did, they both kissed Zara--their beautiful newrelation!--and Lady Ethelrida taking her arm drew her towards the party, while she whispered, "You dear, lovely thing! Ever so many welcomes to the family andMontfitchet!"

And Zara suddenly felt a lump in her throat. How she had misjudged themall in her hurt ignorance! And determining to repair her injustice sheadvanced with a smile and was presented to the group. 

CHAPTER XXII

There was a good deal of running into each other's rooms before dressingfor dinner among the ladies at Montfitchet, that night. They had, theyfelt, to exchange views about the new bride! And the opinions werefavorable, on the whole; unanimous, as to her beauty and magneticattraction; divided, as to her character; but fiercely and venomouslyantagonistic in one mean, little heart. 

Emily and Mary and Lady Betty Burns clustered together in the latter'sroom. "We think she is perfectly lovely, Betty, " Emily said, "but wedon't know her as yet. She is rather stiff, and frightens us just alittle. Perhaps she is shy. What do you think?"

"She looks just like the heroines in some of the books that Mamma doesnot let me read and I am obliged to take up to bed with me. Don't youknow, Mary--especially the one I lent you--deeply, mysteriously tragic. You remember the one who killed her husband and then went off with theItalian Count; and then with some one else. It was frightfullyexciting. "

"Good gracious! Betty, " exclaimed Emily. "How dreadful! You don't thinkour sister-in-law looks like that?"

"I really don't know, " said Lady Betty, who was nineteen and wrote luridmelodramas--to the waste of much paper and the despair of her mother. "Idon't know. I made one of my heroines in my last play have just thosepassionate eyes--and she stabbed the villain in the second act!"

"Yes, but, " said Mary, who felt she must defend Tristram's wife, "Zaraisn't in a play and there is no villain, and--why, Betty, no one hastragedies in real life!"

Lady Betty tossed her flaxen head, while she announced a prophecy, withan air of deep wisdom which positively frightened the other two girls. 

"You mark my words, both of you, Emily and Mary--they will have sometragedy before the year is out! And I shall put it all in my next play. "

And with this fearful threat ringing in their ears Tristram's twosisters walked in a scared fashion to their room. 

"Betty is wonderful, isn't she, darling?" Mary said. "But, Em, you don'tthink there is any truth in it, do you? Mother would be so horriblyshocked if there was anything like one of Betty's plays in the family, wouldn't she? And Tristram would never allow it either!"

"Of course not, you goosie, " answered Emily. "But Betty is right in oneway--Zara has got a mysterious face, and--and, Mary--Tristram seemedsomehow changed, I thought; rather sarcastic once or twice. "

And then their maid came in and put a stop to their confidences. 

 * * * * *

"She is the most wonderful person I have ever met, Ethelrida, " LadyAnningford was just then saying, as she and the hostess stopped at herdoor and let Lady Thornby and the young Countess of Melton go on. --"Sheis wickedly beautiful and attractive, and there is something odd abouther, too, and it touches me; and I don't believe she is really wicked abit. Her eyes are like storm clouds. I have heard her first husband wasa brute. I can't think who told me but it came from some one at one ofthe Embassies. "

"We don't know much about her, any of us, " Lady Ethelrida said, "butAunt Jane asked us all in the beginning to trust Tristram's judgment: heis awfully proud, you know. And besides, her uncle, Mr. Markrute, is sonice. But, Anne--" and Lady Ethelrida paused. 

"Well, what, dear? Tristram is awfully in love with her, isn't he?" LadyAnningford asked. 

"Yes, " said Lady Ethelrida, "but, Anne, do you really think Tristramlooks happy? I thought when he was not speaking his face seemed rathersad. "

"The Crow came down in the train with them, " Lady Anningford announced. "I'll hear the whole exact impression of them after dinner and tell you. The Crow is always right. "

"She is so very attractive, I am sure, to every man who sees her, Anne. I hope Lord Elterton won't begin and make Tristram jealous. I wish I hadnot asked him. And then there is Laura--It was awful taste, I think, herinsisting upon coming, don't you?--Anne, if she seems as if she weregoing to be horrid you will help me to protect Zara, won't you?--And nowwe really must dress. "

 * * * * *

In another room Mrs. Harcourt was chatting with her sister and LadyHighford. 

"She is perfectly lovely, Laura, " Miss Opie said. "Her hair must reachdown to the ground and looks as if it would not come off, and her skinisn't even powdered--I examined it, on purpose, in a side light. Andthose eyes! Je-hoshaphat! as Jimmy Danvers says. "

"Poor, darling Tristram!" Laura sighed sentimentally while she inwardlyregistered her intense dislike of "the Opie girl. " "He looks melancholyenough--for a bridegroom; don't you think so, Kate?" and she lowered hereyes, with a glance of would-be meaning, as though she could say more, if she wished. "But no wonder, poor dear boy! He loathed the marriage;it was so fearfully sudden. I suppose the Markrute man had got him inhis power. "

"You don't say so!" Mrs. Harcourt gasped. She was a much simpler personthan her sister. "Jimmy assured me that Lord Tancred was violently inlove with her, and that was it. "

"Jimmy always was a fool, " Lady Highford said, and as they went on totheir rooms Lily Opie whispered, "Kate, Laura Highford is an odious cat, and I don't believe a word aboutMr. Markrute and the getting Lord Tancred into his power. That is onlyto make a salve for herself. The Duke would never have Mr. Markrute hereif there was anything fishy about him. Why, ducky, you know it is theonly house left in England, almost, where they have only US!"

 * * * * *

Tristram was ready for dinner in good time but he hesitated aboutknocking at his wife's door. If she did not let him know she was readyhe would send Higgins to ask for her maid. 

His eyes were shining with the pride he felt in her. She had indeed comeup to the scratch. He had not believed it possible that she could havebeen so gracious, and he had not even guessed that she would condescendto speak so much. And all his old friends had been so awfully niceabout her and honestly admiring; except Arthur Elterton--_he_ hadadmired rather too much!

And then this exaltation somewhat died down. It was after all but a verypoor, outside show, when, in reality, he could not even knock at herdoor!

He wished now he had never let his pride hurl forth that ultimatum onthe wedding night, because he would have to stick to it! He could notmake the slightest advance, and it did not look as if she meant to doso. Tristram in an ordinary case when his deep feelings were notconcerned would have known how to display a thousand little tricks forthe allurement of a woman, would have known exactly how to cajole her, to give her a flower, and hesitate when he spoke her name--and a numberof useful things--but he was too terribly in earnest to be anything buta real, natural man; that is, hurt from her coldness and diffident ofhimself, and iron-bound with pride. 

And Zara at the other side of the door felt almost happy. It was thefirst evening in her life she had ever dressed without some heavy burdenof care. Her self-protective, watchful instincts could rest for a while;these new relations were truly, not only seemingly, so kind. The onlyperson she immediately and instinctively disliked was Lady Highford whohad gushed and said one or two bitter-sweet things which she had notclearly nor literally understood, but which, she felt, were meant to behostile. 

And her husband, Tristram! It was plain to be seen every one lovedhim--from the old Duke, to the old setter by the fire. And how was itpossible for them all to love a man, when--and then her thoughtsunconsciously turned to _if_--he were capable of so base a thing as hismarriage with her had been? Was it possible there could be any mistake?On the first opportunity she would question her uncle; and although sheknew that gentleman would only tell her exactly as much as he wished herto know, that much would be the truth. 

Dinner was to be at half-past eight. She ought to be punctual, she knew;but it was all so wonderful, and refined, and old-world, in her charmingroom, she felt inclined to dawdle and look around. 

It was a room as big as her mother's had been, in the gloomy castle nearPrague, but it was full of cozy touches--beyond the great gilt statebed, which she admired immensely--and with which she instinctively feltonly the English--and only such English--know how to endow theirapartments. 

Then she roused herself. She _must_ dress. Fortunately her hair did nottake any time to twist up. 

"_Miladi_ is a dream!" Henriette exclaimed when at last she was ready. "_Milor_ will be proud!"

And he was. 

She sent Henriette to knock at his door--his door in the passage--notthe one between their rooms!--just on the stroke of half-past eight. Hewas at that moment going to send Higgins on a like errand! and his senseof humor at the grotesqueness of the situation made him laugh a bitterlaugh. 

The two servants as the messengers!--when he ought to have been in therehimself, helping to fix on her jewels, and playing with her hair, andperhaps kissing exquisite bits of her shoulders when the maid was notlooking, or fastening her dress!

Well, the whole thing was a ghastly farce that must be got through; hewould take up politics, and be a wonderful landlord to the people atWrayth; and somehow, he would get through with it, and no one shouldever know, from him, of his awful mistake. 

He hardly allowed himself to tell her she looked very beautiful as theywalked along the great corridor. She was all in deep sapphire-bluegauze, with no jewels on at all but the Duke's splendid brooch. 

That was exquisite of her, he appreciated that fine touch. Indeed, heappreciated everything about her--if she had known. 

People were always more or less on time in this house, and after thesilent hush of admiration caused by the bride's entrance they all begantalking and laughing, and none but Lady Highford and another woman werelate. 

And as Zara walked along the white drawing-room, on the old Duke's arm, she felt that somehow she had got back to a familiar atmosphere, whereshe was at rest after long years of strife. 

Lady Ethelrida had gone in with the bridegroom--to-night everything wasdone with strict etiquette--and on her left hand she had placed thebride's uncle. The new relations were to receive every honor, it seemed. And Francis Markrute, as he looked round the table, with the perfectionof its taste, and saw how everything was going on beautifully, felt hehad been justified in his schemes. 

Lady Anningford sat beyond Tristram, and often these two talked, so LadyEthelrida had plenty of time, without neglecting him, to converse withher other interesting guest. 

"I am so glad you like our old home, Mr. Markrute, " she said. "To-morrowI will show you a number of my favorite haunts. It seems sad, does itnot, as so many people assert, that the times are trending to take allthese dear, old things away from us, and divide them up?"

"It will be a very bad day for England when that time comes, " thefinancier said. "If only the people could study evolution and themeaning of things there would not be any of this nonsensical classhatred. The immutable law is that no one long retains any positionunless he, or she, is suitable for it. Nothing endures that is notharmonious. It is because England is now out of harmony, that thisseething is going on. You and your race have been fitted for what youhave held for hundreds of years; that is why you have stayed: and yourinfluence, and such as you, have made England great. "

"Then how do you account for the whole thing being now out of joint?"Lady Ethelrida asked. "As my father and I and, as far as I know, numbersof us have remained just the same, and have tried as well as we can todo our duty to every one. "

"Have you ever studied the Laws of Lycurgus, Lady Ethelrida?" he asked. And she shook her sleek, fine head. "Well, they are worth glancing at, when you have time, " he went on. "An immense value was placed upondiscipline, and as long as it lasted in its iron simplicity the Spartanswere the wonder of the then known world. But after their conquest ofAthens, when luxury poured in and every general wanted something forhimself and forgot the good of the state, then their discipline went topieces, and, so--the whole thing. And that, applied in a modern way, iswhat is happening to England. All classes are forgetting theirdiscipline, and, without fitting themselves for what they aspire to, they are trying to snatch from some other class. And the whole thing isrotten with mawkish sentimentality, and false prudery, and abeyance ofcommon sense. "

"Yes, " said Lady Ethelrida, much interested. 

"Lycurgus went to the root of things, " the financier continued, "andmade the people morally and physically healthy, and ruthlessly expungedthe unfit--not like our modern nonsense, which encourages science tokeep, among the prospective parents for the future generation, all themost diseased. Moral and physical balance and proportion were the ideasof the Spartans. They would not have even been allowed to compete in thegames, if they were misshapen. And the analogy is, no one unfitted for apart ought to aspire to it, for the public good. Any one has a right toscream, if he does not obtain it when he is fitted for it. "

"Yes, I see, " said Lady Ethelrida. "Then what do you mean when you sayevery class is trying to snatch something from some other class? Do youmean from the class above it? Or what? Because unless we, forinstance--technically speaking--snatched from the King from whom couldwe snatch?"

The financier smiled. 

"I said purposely, 'some other class, ' instead of 'some class above it, 'for this reason: it is because a certain and ever-increasing number ofyour class, if I may say so, are snatching--not, indeed, from theKing--but from all classes _beneath them_, manners and morals, andabsence of tenue, and absence of pride--things for which their class wasnot fitted. They had their own vices formerly, which only hurt eachindividual and not the order, as a stain will spoil the look of a bit ofmachinery but will not upset its working powers like a piece of grit. What they put into the machine now is grit. And the middle classes aresnatching what they think is gentility, and ridiculous pretenses tobirth and breeding; and the lower classes are snatching everything theycan get from the pitiful fall of the other two, and shouting that allmen are equal, when, if you come down to the practical thing, theforeman of some ironworks, say--where the opinions were purelysocialistic, in the abstract--would give the last joined stoker a soundtrouncing for aspirations in his actual work above his capabilities;because he would know that if the stoker were then made foreman themachinery could not work. The stokers of life should first fitthemselves to be foremen before they shout. "

Then, as Lady Ethelrida looked very grave, and Francis Markrute wasreally a whimsical person, and seldom talked so seriously to women, hewent on, smiling, "The only really perfect governments in the world are those of the Bees, and Ants, because they are both ruled with ruthless discipline and nosentiment, and every individual knows his place!"

"I read once, somewhere, that it has been discovered, " said LadyEthelrida gently--she never laid down the law--"that the reason why thewonderful Greeks came to an end was not really because their system ofgovernment was not a good one, but because the mosquitoes came and gavethem malaria, and enervated them and made them feeble, and so they couldnot stand against the stronger peoples of the North. Perhaps, " she wenton, "England has got some moral malarial mosquitoes and the scientistshave not yet discovered the proper means for their annihilation. "

Here Tristram who overheard this interrupted:

"And it would not be difficult to give the noisome insects their Englishnames, would it, Francis? Some of them are in the cabinet. "

And the three laughed. But Lady Ethelrida wanted to hear something morefrom her left-hand neighbor, so she said, "Then the inference to be drawn from what you have said is--we shouldaim at making conditions so that it is possible for every individual tohave the chance to make himself practically--not theoretically--fit foranything his soul aspires to. Is that it?"

"Absolutely in a nutshell, dear lady, " Francis Markrute said, and for aminute he looked into her eyes with such respectful, intense admirationthat Lady Ethelrida looked away. 

CHAPTER XXIII

In the white drawing-room, afterwards, Lady Highford was particularlygushing to the new bride. She came with a group of other women tosurround her, and was so playful and charming to all her friends! Shemust be allowed to sit next to Zara, because, she said, "Your husbandand I are such very dear, old friends. And how lovely it is to thinkthat now he will be able to reopen Wrayth! Dear Lady Tancred is soglad, " she purred. 

Zara just looked at her politely. What a done-up ferret woman! shethought. She had met many of her tribe. At the rooms at Monte Carlo, andin another class and another race, they were the kind who played in thesmallest stakes themselves, and often snatched the other people's money. 

"I have never heard my husband speak of you, " she said presently, whenshe had silently borne a good deal of vitriolic gush. "You have perhapsbeen out of England for some time?"

And Lady Anningford whispered to Ethelrida, "We need not worry to beready to defend her, pet! She can hold her own!" So they moved on to thegroup of the girls. 

But at the end of their conversation, though Zara had used her method ofsilence in a considerable degree and made it as difficult as she couldfor Lady Highford, still, that artist in petty spite had been able toleave behind her some rankling stings. She was a mistress of innuendo. So that when the men came in, and Tristram, from the sense of "notfunking things" which was in him, deliberately found Laura and sat downupon a distant sofa with her, Zara suddenly felt some unpleasant feelingabout her heart. She found that she desired to watch them, and that, inspite of what any one said to her, her attention wandered back to thedistant sofa in some unconscious speculation and unrest. 

And Laura was being exceedingly clever. She scented with the cunning ofher species that Tristram was really unhappy, whether he was in lovewith his hatefully beautiful wife or not. Now was her chance; not byreproaches, but by sympathy, and, if possible, by planting some venomtowards his wife in his heart. 

"Tristram, dear boy, why did you not tell me? Did you not know I wouldhave been delighted at anything--if it pleased you?" And she lookeddown, and sighed. "I always made it my pleasure to understand you, andto promote whatever seemed for your good. "

And in his astonishment at this attitude Tristram forgot to recall theconstant scenes and reproaches, and the paltry little selfishnesses ofwhich he had been the victim during the year their--friendship--hadlasted. He felt somehow soothed. Here was some one who was devoted tohim, even if his wife were not!

"You are a dear, Laura, " he said. 

"And now you must tell me if you are really happy--Tristram. " Shelingered over his name. "She is so lovely--your wife--but looks verycold. And I know, dear" (another hesitation over the word), "I know youdon't like women to be cold. "

"We will not discuss my wife, " he said. "Tell me what you have beendoing, Laura. Let me see, when did I see you last--in June?"

And the venom came to boiling-point in Laura's adder gland. He could noteven remember when he had said good-by to her! It was in July, after theEton and Harrow match!

"Yes, in June, " she said sadly, turning her eyes down. "And you mighthave told me, Tristram. It came as such a sudden shock. It made meseriously ill. You must have known, and were probably engaged--eventhen. "

Tristram sat mute; for how could he announce the truth?

"Oh, don't let us talk of these things, Laura. Let us forget those oldtimes and begin again--differently. You will be a dear friend to mealways, I am sure. You always were--" and then he stopped abruptly. Hefelt this was too much lying! and he hated doing such things. 

"Of course I will, dar--Tristram, " Laura said, and appeared much moved. 

And from where Zara was trying to talk to the Duke she saw the womanshiver and look down provokingly and her husband stretch his long limbsout; and a sudden, unknown sensation of blinding rage came over her, andshe did not hear a syllable of the Duke's speech. 

Meanwhile Lady Anningford had retired to a seat in a window with theCrow. 

"Is it all right, Crow?" she asked, and one of his peculiarities was tounderstand her--as Lady Ethelrida understood the Duke--and and not ask"What?"

"Will be--some day--I expect--unless they get drowned in the currentfirst. "

"Isn't she mysterious, Crow? I am sure she has some tragic history. Haveyou heard anything?"

"Husband murdered by another man in a row at Monte Carlo. "

"Over her?"

"I don't know for a fact, but I gather--not. You may be certain, QueenAnne, that when a woman is as quiet and haughty as Lady Tancred looks, and her manners are as cold and perfectly sure of herself as hers are, she has not done anything she is ashamed of, or regrets. "

"Then what can be the cause of the coolness between them? Look atTristram now! I think it is horrid of him--sitting like that talking toLaura, don't you?"

"A viper, Laura, " growled the Crow. "She's trying to get him again inthe rebound. "

"I cannot imagine why women cannot leave other women's husbands alone. They are hateful creatures, most of them. "

"Natural instinct of the chase, " said Colonel Lowerby. 

But Lady Anningford flashed. 

"You are a cynic, Crow. "

 * * * * *

"And you will really show me your favorite haunts to-morrow, LadyEthelrida?" Francis Markrute was saying to his hostess. He had contrivedinsidiously to detach her conversation from a group to himself, and drewher unconsciously towards a seat where they would be uninterrupted. "Onejudges so of people by their tastes in haunts. "

Lady Ethelrida never spoke of herself as a rule. She was not in thehabit of getting into those--abstract to begin with, and personal to goon with--thrilling conversations with men, which most of the modernyoung women delight in, and which were the peculiar joy of Lily Opie. 

It was because for some unacknowledged reason the financier personallypleased her that she now drifted where he wished. 

"Mine are very simple, I fear, nothing for you to investigate, " she saidgently. 

"So I should have thought--" and he again as he had done at dinnerpermitted himself to look into her eyes, and going on after animperceptible pause he said softly, "simple, and pure, and sweet . .. Ialways think of you, Lady Ethelrida, as the embodiment of sane things, balanced things--perfection. " And his last word was almost a caress. 

"I am most ordinary, " she said; and she wondered why she was not angrywith him, which she quite well could have been. 

"It is only perfect balance in all things, if we but know it, whichappeals to the sane eye, " he went on, pulling himself up. "All wearinessand satiety are caused in emotion; in pleasure in persons, places, orthings; by the want of proportion in them somewhere which, like allsimple things, is the hardest to find. "

"Do you make theories about everything, Mr. Markrute?" she asked, andthere was a smile in her eye. 

"It is a wise thing to do sometimes; it keeps one from losing one'shead. "

Lady Ethelrida did not answer. She felt deliciously moved. She had oftensaid to her friend, Anne Anningford, when they had been talking, thatshe did not like elderly men; she disliked to see their hair gettingthin, and their chins getting fat, and their little habits andmannerisms growing pronounced. But here she found herself tremendouslyinterested in one who, from all accounts, must be quite forty-five ifnot older, though it was true his brown colorless hair was excessivelythick, and he was slight of build everywhere. 

Now she felt she must turn the conversation to less personal things, so:

"Zara looks very lovely to-night, " she said. 

"Yes, " replied the financier, with an air of detaching himselfunwillingly from a thrilling topic, which was, indeed, what he felt. "Yes, and I hope some day they will be exceedingly happy. "

"Why do you say some day?" Lady Ethelrida asked quickly. "I hoped theywere happy now. "

"Not very, I am afraid, " he said. "But you remember our compact atdinner? They will be ideally so if they are left alone, " and he glancedcasually at Tristram and Laura. 

Ethelrida looked, too, following his eyes. 

"Yes, " she said. "I wish I had not asked her--" and then she stoppedabruptly, and grew a deep pink. She realized what the inference in herspeech was, and if Mr. Markrute had never heard anything about the sillyaffair between her cousin and Lady Highford what would he think! Whatmight she not have done!

"That won't matter, " he said, with his fine smile. "It will be good formy niece. I meant something quite different. "

But what he meant, he would not say. 

And so the evening passed smoothly. The girls, and all the young men andthe Crow, and Young Billy, and giddy, irresponsible people like that, had gathered at one end of the room; they were arranging some especialpicnic for the morrow, as only some of them were going to shoot. Andinto their picnic plans they drew Zara, and barred Tristram out, withchaff. 

"You are only an old, married man now, Tristram, " they teased him with. "But Lady Tancred is young and comes with us!"

"And I will take care of her, " announced Lord Elterton, lookingsentimental--much to Tristram's disgust. 

Ethelrida seemed to have collected a lot of rotters, he thought tohimself, although it was the same party he had so enjoyed last year!

"Lady Thornby and Lady Melton and Lily Opie and her sister are going outto the shooters' lunch, " Laura said sweetly. "As you are going to bedeprived of your lovely wife, Tristram, I will come, too. "

And so, finally good nights were said and the ladies retired to theirrooms; and Zara could not think why she no longer found the atmosphereof hers peaceful and delightful, as she had done before she went down. 

For the first time in her life she felt she hated a woman. 

And Tristram, her husband, when he came up an hour or so later, wonderedif she were asleep. Laura had been perfectly sweet, and he felt greatlysoothed. Poor old Laura! He supposed she had really cared for himrather, and perhaps he had behaved casually, even though she had beenimpossible, in the past. But how had he ever even for five minutesfancied himself in love with her? Why, she looked quite old to-night!and he had never remarked before how thin and fluffed out her hair was. Women ought certainly to have beautifully thick hair. 

And then all the pretenses of any healing of his aches fell from him, and he went and stood by the door that separated him from his loved one, and he stretched out his arms and said aloud, "Darling, if only youcould understand how happy I would make you--if you would let me! But Ican't even break down this hateful door as I want to, because of myvow. "

And then for most of the rest of the night he tossed restlessly in hisbed. 

CHAPTER XXIV

The next day did not look at all promising as regards the weather, butstill the shooters, Tristram among them, started early for their sport. And after the merriest breakfast at little tables in the greatdining-room the intending picnickers met in conclave to decide as towhat they should do. 

"It is perfectly sure to rain, " Jimmy Danvers said. "There is no useattempting to go to Lynton Heights. Why don't we take the lunch toMontfitchet Tower and eat it in the big hall? There we wouldn't getwet. "

"Quite right, Jimmy, " agreed the Crow, who, with Lady Anningford, was tochaperon the young folk. "I'm all for not getting wet, with my rheumaticshoulder, and I hear you and Young Billy are a couple of firstclasscooks. "

"Then, " interrupted Lady Betty enthusiastically, "we can cook our ownlunch! Oh, how delightful! We will make a fire in the big chimney. UncleCrow, you are a pet!"

"I will go and give orders for everything at once, " Lady Ethelridaagreed delightedly. "Jimmy, what a bright boy to have thought of theplan!"

And by twelve o'clock all was arranged. Now, it had been settled thenight before that Mr. Markrute should shoot with the Duke and the restof the more serious men; but early in the morning that astute financierhad sent a note to His Grace's room, saying, if it were not putting outthe guns dreadfully, he would crave to be excused as he was expecting atelegram of the gravest importance concerning the new Turkish loan, which he would be obliged to answer by a special letter, and he wasuncertain at what time the wire would come. He was extremely sorry, but, he added whimsically, the Duke must remember he was only a poor, business-man!

At which His Grace had smiled, as he thought of his guest's vastmillions, in comparison to his own. 

Thus it was that just before twelve o'clock when the young party wereready to start for their picnic. Mr. Markrute, having written his letterand despatched it by express to London, chanced upon Lady Ethelrida in aplace where he felt sure he should find her, and, expressing hissurprise that they were not already gone, he begged to be allowed tocome with them. He, too, was an excellent cook, he assured her, andwould be really of use. And they all laughingly started. 

And if she could have seen the important letter concerning the newTurkish loan, she would have found it contained a pressing reminder toBumpus to send down that night certain exquisitely bound books!

 * * * * *

Above all, the young ladies had demanded they should have no servants attheir picnic--everything, even the fire, was to be made by themselves. Jimmy was to drive the donkey-cart, with Lady Betty, to take all thefood. The only thing they permitted was that the pots and pans and thewood for the fire might be sent on. 

And they were all so gay and looked so charming and suitably clad, intheir rough, short, tweed frocks. 

Zara, who walked demurely by Lord Elterton, had never seen anything ofthe sort. She felt like a strange, little child at its first party. 

Before he had started in the morning Tristram had sent her a note (hecould not stand the maid and valet as verbal messengers--it made himlaugh too bitterly), it was just a few lines:

"You asked me to tell you anything special about our customs, so this isto say, just put on some thick, short, ordinary suit, and mind you havea pair of thick boots. "

And it was signed "Tancred"--not "Tristram. "

She gave a little quiver as she read it, and then asked and found hislordship had already gone down. She was to breakfast later with thenon-shooters. She would not see him, then, for the entire day. And thatodious woman with whom he was so friendly would have him all to herself!

These thoughts flashed into her mind before she was aware of it, andthen she crushed them out--furious with herself. For of what possiblematter could her husband's doings be to her? And yet, as she started, she found herself hoping it would rain, so that the five ladies whointended joining the guns in the farmhouse, for luncheon at two, wouldbe unable to go. For just as she had come into the saloon where some ofthe party were writing letters that morning she had heard Lady Highfordsay to Mrs. Harcourt, in her high voice, "Yes, indeed, we mean to finishthe discussion this afternoon after luncheon. --Dear Tristram! There is along wait at the Fulton beat; we shall have plenty of time alone. " Andthen she had turned round, and seemed confused at seeing her--Zara--andgushed more than the night before. 

But she did not get the satisfaction of perceiving the bride turn ahair, though as Zara walked on to the end of the room she angrily foundherself wondering who was this woman, and what had she been to Tristram?What was she _now_?

Lord Elterton had already fallen in love. He was a true _cavalier_servant; he knew, like the financier, as a fine art, how to manipulatethe temperaments of most women. He prided himself upon it. Indeed, hespent the greater part of his life doing nothing else. Exquisitegentleness and sympathy was his method. There were such heaps of rough, rude brutes about that one would always have a chance by being thecontrast; and husbands, he reasoned, were nearly always brutes--after awhile--in the opinion of their wives! He had hardly ever known this planto fail with the most devoted wife. So although Lady Tancred had onlybeen married a week he hoped to render her not quite indifferent tohimself in some way. He had seen at once that she and Tristram were noton terms of passionate love, and there was something so piquant aboutflirting with a bride! He divided women as a band into about fourdivisions. The quite impossible, the recalcitrant, the timid, and thebold. For the impossible he did not waste powder and shot. For therecalcitrant he used insidious methods of tickling their fancies, as hewould tickle a trout. For the timid he was tender and protective; andfor the bold subtly indifferent: but always gentle and nice!

He was not sure yet in which of the four divisions he should have toplace his new attraction--probably the second--but he frankly admittedhe had never before had any experience with one of her type. Her strangeeyes thrilled him: he felt, when she turned the deep slate, meltingdisks upon him, his heart went "down into his bloomin' boots, " as JimmyDanvers would have described the sensation. So he began with extremegentleness and care. 

"You have not been long in this country, Lady Tancred, have you? One cansee it--you are so exquisitely _chic_. And how perfectly you speakEnglish! Not the slightest accent. It is delicious. Did you learn itwhen very young?"

"My father was an Englishman, " said Zara, disarmed from her usualchilling reserve by the sympathy in his voice. "I always spoke it untilI was thirteen, and since then, too. It is a nice, honest language, Ithink. "

"You speak numbers of others, probably?" Lord Elterton went on, admiringly. 

"Yes, about four or five. It is very easy when one is moving in thecountries, and certain languages are very much alike. Russian is themost difficult. "

"How clever you are!"

"No, I am not a bit. But I have had time to read a good deal--" and thenZara stopped. It was so against her habit to give personal informationto any one like this. 

Lord Elterton saw the little check, and went on another tack. "I havebeen an idle fellow and am not at all learned, " he said. "Tristram and Iwere at Eton together in the same house, and we were both dunces; but hedid rather well at Oxford, and I went straight into the Guards. "

Zara longed to ask about Tristram. She had not even heard before that hehad been to Oxford! And it struck her suddenly how ridiculous the wholething was. She had sold herself for a bargain; she had asked noquestions of any one; she had intended to despise the whole family andremain entirely aloof; and now she found every one of her intentionsbeing gradually upset. But as yet she did not admit for a second toherself that she was falling in love. It would be such a perfectlyimpossible thing to do in any case, when now he was absolutelyindifferent to her and showed it in every way. It made the whole thingall the more revolting--to have pretended he loved her on that firstnight! Yes, with certain modifications of classes and races men were allperfectly untrustworthy, if not brutes, and a woman, if she could relaxher vigilance, as regards the defense of her person and virtue, couldnot afford to unbend a fraction as to her emotions!

And all the time she was thinking this out she was silent, and LordElterton watched her, thrilled with the attraction of the unobtainable. He saw plainly she had forgotten his very presence, and, though piqued, he grew the more eager. 

"I would love to know what you were thinking of, " he said softly; andthen with great care he pulled a bramble aside so that it should nottouch her. They had turned into a lane beyond the kitchen garden and thepark. 

Zara started. She had, indeed, been far away!

"I was thinking--" she said, and then she paused for a suitable lie butnone came, so she grew confused, and stopped, and hesitated, and thenshe blurted out, "I was thinking was it possible there could ever be anyone whom one could believe?"

Lord Elterton looked at her. What a strange woman!

"Yes, " he said simply, "you can believe me when I tell you I have neverbeen so attracted by any one in my life. "

"Oh! for that!" she answered contemptuously. _"Mon Dieu!_ how often Ihave heard of that!"

This was not what he had expected. There was no empty boast about thespeech, as there would have been if Laura Highford had uttered it--shewas fond of demonstrating her conquests and power in words. There wasonly a weariness as of something banal and tiring. He must be morecareful. 

"Yes, I quite understand, " he said sympathetically. "You must be boredwith the love of men. "

"I have never seen any love of men. Do men know love?" she asked, notwith any bitterness--only as a question of fact. What had Tristram beenabout? Lord Elterton thought. Here he had been married to this divinecreature for a whole week, and she was plainly asking the question fromher heart. And Tristram was no fool in a general way, he knew. There wassome mystery here, but whatever it was there was the more chance forhim! So he went on very tactfully, trying insidiously to soothe her, sothat at last when they had arrived Zara had enjoyed her walk. 

Montfitchet Tower was all that remained of the old castle destroyed byCromwell's Ironsides. It was just one large, square room, a sort ofgreat hall. It had stood roofless for many years and then been coveredin by the old Duke's father, and contained a splendid stone chimneypiece of colossal proportions. It had also been floored, and had theraised place still, where the family had eaten "above the salt. " Therest of the old castle was a complete ruin, and at the Restoration thenew one had been rebuilt about a mile further up the park. 

Lady Ethelrida had collected several pieces of rough oak furniture toput into this great room which in height reached three stories up, andthe supports of the mantelpieces of the upper floors could be seen onthe blackened stone walls. It was here she gave her school treats andtenants' summer dances, because there was a great stretch of green, turfy lawn beyond, down to the river, where they could play their games. 

And on a wet day it was an ideal picnic place. 

A bright wood fire was already blazing on top of the ashes that for manyyears had never been cleared out, and a big jack swung in front ofit--for appearance sake! What fun every one seemed to be having, Zarathought, as from an oak bench she watched them all busy as bees overtheir preparations for the repast. She had helped to make a salad, andnow sat with the Crow, and surveyed the rest. 

Jimmy Danvers had turned up his sleeves and was thoroughly in earnestover his part; and he and Young Billy had gathered some brown bracken, and put it sprouting from a ham, to represent, they said, the peacock. For, they explained, a banquet in a baronial hall had to have a peacock, as well as a boar's head, and an ox roasted whole!

And suddenly Zara thought of her last picnic, with Mimo and Mirko in theNeville Street attic, when the poor little one had worn the paper cap, and had taken such pleasure in the new rosy cups. And the Crow who waswatching her closely, wondered why this gay scene should make the lovelybride look so pitifully sad. "How _Maman_ would have loved all this!"she was thinking, "with her gay, tender soul, and her delight inmake-believe and joyous picnics. " And her father--he had known all thesesorts of people; they were his own class, and yet he had come to live inthe great, gloomy castle, out of his own land, and expected hisexquisite, young wife to stay there alone, most of the time. The hideouscruelty of men!

And there was her Uncle Francis, in quite a new character!--helping LadyEthelrida to lay the table, as happily as a boy. Would she herself everbe happy, she wondered, ever have a time free from some agonizing strainor care? And then, from sorrow her expression changed to one of strangeslumberous resentment at fate. 

"Queen Anne, " said the Crow, as they sat down to luncheon, "there issome tragedy hanging over that young woman. She has been suffering likethe devil for at least ten minutes, and forgot I was even beside her andpretending to talk. You and Lady Ethelrida have two not altogetherunkind hearts. Can't you find out what it is, and comfort her?"

CHAPTER XXV

After luncheon, which had been carried through with all the properceremonies of the olden time according to Jimmy Danvers and YoungBilly's interpretation of them, it came on to pour with rain; so thesemasters of the revels said that now the medieval dances should begin, and accordingly they turned on the gramophone that stood in the cornerto amuse the children at the school treats. And Mary and her admirer, Lord Henry Burns, and Emily and a Captain Hume, and Lady Betty and JimmyDanvers, gayly took the floor, while Young Billy offered himself to thebride, as he said he as the representative of the Lord of the Castle hada right to the loveliest lady; and, with his young, stolidself-confidence, he pushed Lord Elterton aside. 

Zara had not danced for a very long time--four years at least--and shehad not an idea of the two-steps and barn-dances and other sorts ofwhirling capers that they invented; but she did her best, and graduallysomething of the excitement of the gay young spirits spread to her, andshe forgot her sorrows and began to enjoy herself. 

"You don't ever dance, I suppose, Mr. Markrute?" Lady Ethelrida asked, as she stopped, with the gallant old Crow, flushed and smiling by thedaïs, where the financier and Lady Anningford sat. "If you ever do, I, as the Lady of the Castle, ask you to 'tread a measure' with me!"

"No one could resist such, an invitation, " he answered, and put his armaround her for a valse. 

"I do love dancing, " she said, as they went along very well. She was sosurprised that this "grave and reverend signor, " as she called him, should be able to valse!

"So do I, " said Francis Markrute--"under certain circumstances. This isone of them. " And then he suddenly held her rather tight, and laughed. "Think of it all!" he went on. "Here we are, in thick boots and countryclothes capering about like savages round their fire, and, for all sortsof reasons, we all love it!"

"It is just the delicious exercise with me, " said Lady Ethelrida. 

"And it has nothing at all to do with that reason with me, " returned herpartner. 

And Lady Ethelrida quivered with some sort of pleasure and did not askhim what his reason was. She thought she knew, and her eyes sparkled. They were the same height, and he saw her look; and as they went on, hewhispered:

"I have brought you down the book we spoke of, you know, and you willtake it from me, won't you? Just as a remembrance of this day and howyou made me young for an hour!"

They stopped by one of the benches at the side and sat down, and LadyEthelrida answered softly, "Yes, if--you wish me to--"

Lord Elterton had now dislodged Young Billy and was waltzing with Zarahimself: his whole bearing was one of intense devotion, and she wasactually laughing and looking up in his face, still affected by thegeneral hilarity, when the door of the wooden porch that had been builton as an entrance opened noiselessly, and some of the shooters peepedinto the room. It had been too impossibly wet to go on, and they hadsent the ladies back in the motors and had come across the park on theirway home, and, hearing the sound of music, had glanced in. Tristram wasin front of the intruders and just chanced to catch his bride's look ather partner, before either of them saw they were observed. 

He felt frightfully jealous. He had never before seen her so smiling, tobegin with, and never at all at himself. He longed to kick ArthurElterton! Confounded impertinence!--And what tommyrot--dancing likethis, in the afternoon with boots on! And when they all stopped andgreeted the shooters, and crowded round the fire, he said, in a tone ofrasping sarcasm--in reply to Jimmy Danvers' announcement that they wereback in the real life of a castle in the Middle Ages:

"Any one can see that! You have even got My Lady's fool. Look atArthur--with mud on his boots--jumping about!"

And Lord Elterton felt very flattered. He knew his old friend wasjealous, and if he were jealous then the charming, cold lady must havebeen unbelievingly nice to him, and that meant he was getting on!

"You are jealous because your lovely bride prefers me, Young Lochinvar, "and he laughed as he quoted:

 "'For so faithful in love and so dauntless in war-- There ne'er was a gallant like Young Lochinvar!'"

And Zara saw that Tristram's eyes flashed blue steel, and that he didnot like the chaff at all. So, just out of some contrariness--he hadbeen with Lady Highford all day so why should she not amuse herself, too; indeed, why should either of them care what the other did--so justout of contrariness she smiled again at Lord Elterton and said:

 "'Then tread we a measure, my Lord Lochinvar. '"

And off they went. 

And Tristram, with his face more set than the Crusader ancestor's inWrayth Church, said to his uncle, Lord Charles, "We are all wet through:let us come along. "

And he turned round and went out. 

And as he walked, he wondered to himself how much she must know ofEnglish poetry to have been able to answer Arthur like that. If onlythey could be friends and talk of the books he, too, loved! And then herealized more strongly than ever the impossibility of the situation--he, who had been willing to undertake it with the joyous self-confidencewith which he had started upon a lion hunt!

He felt he was getting to the end of his tether; it could not go on. Herwords that night at Dover, had closed down all the possible sources hecould have used for her melting. 

And a man cannot in a week break through a thousand years of inheritedpride. 

Before the Canada scheme had presented itself he had rather thought ofjoining with a friend for another trip to the Soudan: it might not betoo late still, when they had got over the Wrayth ordeal, the tenants'dinners, and the speeches, and the cruel mockery of it all. He wouldsee--perhaps--what could be done, but to go on living in this dailytorture he would not submit to, for the "loving her less" had not yetbegun!

And when he had left, although she would not own it to herself, Zara'sjoy in the day was gone. 

The motors came to fetch them presently, and they all went back to theCastle to dress and have tea. 

Tristram's face was still stony and he had sat down in a sofa by Laura, when a footman brought a telegram to Zara. He watched her open it, withconcentrated interest. Whom were these mysterious telegrams from? He sawher face change as it had done in Paris, only not so seriously; and thenshe crushed up the paper into a ball and threw it in the fire. Thetelegram had been: "Very slightly feverish again, " and signed "Mimo. "

"Now I remember where I have seen your wife before, " said Laura. AndTristram said absently, "Where?"

"In the waiting-room at Waterloo station--and yet--no, it could not havebeen she, because she was quite ordinarily dressed, and she was talkingvery interestedly to a foreign man. " She watched Tristram's face and sawshe had hit home for some reason; so she went on, enchanted: "Of courseit could not have been she, naturally; but the type is so peculiar thatany other like it would remind one, would it not?"

"I expect so, " he said. "It could not have been Zara, though, becauseshe was in Paris until just before the wedding. "

"I remember the occasion quite well. It was the day after the engagementwas announced, because I had been up for Flora's wedding, and was goingdown into the country. "

Then in a flash it came to him that that was the very day he himself hadseen Zara in Whitehall, the day when she had not gone to Paris. Andrankling, uncomfortable suspicions overcame him again. 

Laura felt delighted. She did not know why he should be moved at herannouncement; but he certainly was, so it was worth while rubbing it in. 

"Has she a sister, perhaps? Because--now I come to think of it--theresemblance is extraordinary. I remember I was rather interested at thetime because the man was so awfully handsome and as you know, dear boy, I always had a passion for handsome men!"

"My wife was an only child, " Tristram answered. What was Laura drivingat?

"Well, she has a double then, " she laughed. "I watched them for quiteten minutes, so I am sure. I was waiting for my maid, who was to meetme, and I could not leave for fear of missing her. "

"How interesting!" said Tristram coldly. He would not permit himself todemand a description of the man. 

"Perhaps after all it was she, before she went to Paris, and I may bemistaken about the date, " Laura went on. "It might have been herbrother--he was certainly foreign--but no, it could not have been abrother. " And she looked down and smiled knowingly. 

Tristram felt gradually wild with the stings her words were planting, and then his anger rebounded upon herself. Little natures alwaysmiscalculate the effect of their actions, as factors in their desires, for their ultimate ends. 

Laura only longed--after hurting Tristram as a punishment--to get himback again; but she was not clever enough to know that to make him madwith jealousy about his wife was not the way. 

"I don't understand what you wish to insinuate, Laura, " he said in acontemptuous voice; "but whatever it is, it is having no effect upon me. I absolutely adore my wife, and know everything she does or does notdo. "

"Oh! the poor, angry darling, there, there!" she laughed, spitefully, "and was It jealous! Well, It shan't be teased. But what a cleverhusband, to know all about his wife! He should be put in a glass case ina museum!" And she got up and left him alone. 

Tristram would like to have killed some one--he did not know whom--thisforeign man, "Mimo, " most likely: he had not forgotten the name!

If his pride had permitted him he would have gone up to Zara, who hadnow retired to her room, and asked straight out for an explanation. Hewould if he had been sensible have simply said he was unhappy, and hewould have asked her to reassure him. It would all have been perfectlysimple and soon ended if treated with common sense. But he was tooobstinate, and too hurt, and too passionately in love. The bogey of hisinsulted Tancred pride haunted him always, and, like all foolish things, caused him more suffering than if it had been a crime. 

So once more the pair dressed to go down to the ducal dinner, withdeeper estrangement in their hearts. And when Tristram was readyto-night, he went out into the corridor and pretended to look at thepictures. He would have no more servants' messages!--and there he was, with a bitter smile on his face, when Lady Anningford, coming from herroom beyond, stopped to talk. She wondered at his being there--a verydifferent state of things to her own with her dear old man, sheremembered, who, after the wedding day, for weeks and weeks would hardlylet her out of his sight!

Then Henriette peeped out of the door and saw that the message she wasbeing sent upon was in vain, and went back; and immediately Zaraappeared. 

Her dress was pale gray to-night--with her uncle's pearls--and both LadyAnningford and Tristram noticed that her eyes were slumberous and had inthem that smoldering fierceness of pain. And remembering the Crow'sappeal Lady Anningford slipped her hand within her arm, and was verygentle and friendly as they went down to the saloon. 

CHAPTER XXVI

Now if the evening passed with pain and unrest for the bride andbridegroom, it had quite another aspect for Francis Markrute and LadyEthelrida! He was not placed by his hostess to-night at dinner, but whenthe power of manipulating circumstances with skill is in a man, and thedesire to make things easy to be manipulated is in a woman, they canspend agreeable and numerous moments together. 

So it fell about that without any apparent or pointed detachment fromher other guests Lady Ethelrida was able to sit in one of the embrasuresof the windows in, the picture gallery, whither the party had migratedto-night, and talk to her interesting new friend--for that he was growinginto a friend she felt. He seemed so wonderfully understanding, and wasso quiet and subtle and undemonstrative, and, underneath, you could feelhis power and strength. 

It had been his insidious suggestion, spread among the company, whichhad caused them to be in the picture gallery to-night, instead of in oneof the great drawing-rooms. For in a very long narrow room it was mucheasier to separate people, he felt. 

"Of course this was not built at the time the house was, in about 1670, "Lady Ethelrida said. "It was added by the second Duke, who wasAmbassador to Versailles in the time of Louis XV, and who thought hewould like a 'galérie des glaces' in imitation of the one there. Andthen, when the walls were up, he died, and it was not decorated untilthirty-five years later, in the Regent's time, and it was turned into apicture gallery then. "

"People's brands of individuality in their houses are so interesting, "Francis Markrute said. "I believe Wrayth is a series of human fancies, from the Norman Castle upwards, is it not? I have never been there. "

"Oh! Wrayth is much more interesting than this, " she answered. "Parts ofit are so wonderfully old; there are stone floors in the upper rooms inone of the inner courtyards. They did not suffer, you see, from thehateful Puritans, because the then Tancred was only an infant when thecivil war began; and his mother was a Frenchwoman, and they stayed inFrance all the time, and only came back when Charles II returned. Hemarried a Frenchwoman, too. She was a wonderful person and improved manythings. Wrayth has two long galleries and a chapel of Henry theSeventh's time, and numbers of staircases in unexpected places, and thena fine suite of state rooms, built on by Adam, and then the most awfulEarly-Victorian imitation Gothic wing and porch which one of thosedreadful people, who spoilt such numbers of places, added in 1850. "

"It sounds wonderful, " said the financier. 

"Lots of it is very shabby, of course, because Tristram's father wasalways very hard up; and nothing much had been done either in thegrandfather's time--except the horrible wing. But with enough money toget it right again, I cannot imagine anything more lovely than it couldbe. "

"It will be a great amusement to them in the coming year to do it all, then. Zara has the most beautiful taste, Lady Ethelrida. When you knowher better I think you will like my niece. "

"But I do now, " she exclaimed. "Only I do wish she did not look so sad. May I ask it because of our bargain? "--and she paused with gentletimidity--"Will you tell me?--do you know of any special reason to-dayto make her unhappy? I saw her face at dinner to-night, and all thewhile she talked there was an anxious, haunted look in her eyes. "

Francis Markrute frowned for a moment; he had been too absorbed in hisown interests to have taken in anything special about his niece. Ifthere were something of the sort in her eyes it could only have onesource--anxiety about the health of the boy Mirko. He himself had notheard anything. Then his lightning calculations decided him to tell LadyEthelrida nothing of this. Zara's anxiety would mean the child'sillness, and illness, Doctor Morley had warned him, could have only oneend. He wished the poor little fellow no harm, but, on the other hand, he had no sentiment about him. If he were going to die then the disgracewould be wiped away and need never be spoken about. So he answeredslowly:

"There is something which troubles her now and then. It will passpresently. Take no notice of it. "

So Lady Ethelrida, as mystified as ever, turned the conversation. 

"May I give you the book to-morrow morning before we go to shoot?" thefinancier asked after a moment. "It is your birthday, I believe, and allyour guests on that occasion are privileged to lay some offering at yourfeet. I wanted to do so this afternoon after tea, but I was detainedplaying bridge with your father. I have several books coming to-morrowthat I do so want you to have. "

"It is very kind of you. I would like to show you my sitting-room, inthe south wing. Then you could see that they would have a comfortablehome!"

"When may I come?"

This was direct, and Lady Ethelrida felt a piquant sensation ofinterest. She had never in her life made an assignation with a man. Shethought a moment. 

"They will start only at eleven to-morrow, because the first covert isat a corner of the park, quite near, and if it is fine we are all comingout with you until luncheon which we have in the house; then you go tothe far coverts in the motors. When, I wonder, would be best?"--Itseemed so nice to leave it to him. 

"You breakfast downstairs at half-past nine, like this morning?"

"Yes, I always do, and the girls will and almost every one, because itis my birthday. "

"Then if I come exactly at half-past ten will you be there?"

"I will try. But how will you know the way?"

"I have a bump of locality which is rather strong, and I know thewindows from the outside. You remember you showed them to me to-day aswe walked to the tower. "

Lady Ethelrida experienced a distinct feeling of excitement over thisinnocent rendezvous. 

"There is a staircase--but no!"--and she laughed--"I shall tell you nomore. It will be a proof of your sagacity to find the clue to thelabyrinth. "

"I shall be there, " he said, and once again he looked into her sweet, gray eyes; and she rose with a slightly faster movement than usual anddrew him to where there were more of her guests. 

Meanwhile Lord Elterton was losing no time in his pursuit of Zara. Hehad been among the first to leave the dining-room, several paces infront of Tristram and the others, and instantly came to her andsuggested a tour of the pictures. He quite agreed with thefinancier--these long, narrow rooms were most useful!

And Zara, thankful to divert her mind, went with him willingly, and soonfound herself standing in front of an immense canvas given by theRegent, of himself, to the Duke's grandfather, one of his great friends. 

"I have been watching you all through dinner, " Lord Elterton said, "andyou looked like a beautiful storm: your dress the gray clouds, and youreyes the thunder ones--threatening. "

"One feels like a storm sometimes, " said Zara. 

"People are so tiresome, as a rule; you can see through them in half anhour. But no one could ever guess about what you were thinking. "

"No one would want to--if they knew. "

"Is it so terrible as that?" And he smiled--she must be diverted. "Iwish I had met you long ago, because, of course, I cannot tell you allthe things I now want to--Tristram would be so confoundedlyjealous--like he was this afternoon. It is the way of husbands. "

Zara did not reply. She quite agreed to this, for of the jealousy ofhusbands she had experience!

"Now if I were married, " Lord Elterton went on, "I would try to make mywife so happy, and would love her so much she would never give me causeto be jealous. "

"Love!" said Zara. "How you talk of love--and what does it mean?Gratification to oneself, or to the loved person?"

"Both, " said Lord Elterton, and looked down so devotedly into her eyesthat the old Duke, who was near, with Laura, thought it was quite timethe young man's innings should be over!

So he joined them. 

"Come with me, Zara, while I show you some of Tristram's ancestors onhis mother's side. "

And he placed her arm in his gallantly, and led her away to the mostinteresting pictures. 

"Well, 'pon my soul!" he said, as they went along. "Things are vastlychanged since my young days. Here, Tristram--" and he beckoned to hisnephew who was with Lady Anningford--"come here and help me to show yourwife some of your forbears. " And then he went on with his originalspeech. "Yes, as I was saying, things are vastly changed since I broughtEthelrida's dear mother back here, after our honeymoon!--a month inthose days! I would have punched any other young blood's head, who hadeven looked at her! And you philander off with that fluffy, littleempty-pate, Laura, and Arthur Elterton makes love to your bride! Apretty state of things, 'pon my soul!" And he laughed reprovingly. 

Tristram smiled with bitter sarcasm as he answered, "You were absurdlyold-fashioned, Uncle. But perhaps Aunt Corisande was different to themodern woman. "

Zara did not speak. The black panther's look, on its rare day ofslumberous indifference when it condescends to come to the front of thecage, grew in her eyes, but the slightest touch could make her snarl. 

"Oh! you must not ever blame the women, " the Duke--this _preuxchevalier_--said. "If they are different it is the fault of the men. I took care that my duchess wanted me! Why, my dear boy, I was jealousof even her maid, for at least a year!"

And Tristram thought to himself that he went further than that and wasjealous of even the air Zara breathed!

"You must have been awfully happy, Uncle, " he said with a sigh. 

But Zara spoke never a word. And the Duke saw that there was somethingtoo deeply strained between them, for his kindly meant _persiflage_to do any good; so he turned to the pictures, and drew them into lighterthings; and the moment he could, Tristram rejoined Lady Anningford byone of the great fires. 

Laura Highford, left alone with Lord Elterton up at the end of the longpicture gallery, felt she must throw off some steam. She could not keepfrom the subject which was devouring her; she knew now she had made anirreparable mistake in what she had said to Tristram in the afternoon, and how to repair it she did not know at present, but she must talk tosome one. 

"You will have lots of chance before a year is out, Arthur, " she saidwith a bitter smile. "You need not be in such a hurry! That marriagewon't last more than a few months--they hate each other already. "

"You don't say so!" said Lord Elterton, feigning innocence. "I thoughtthey were a most devoted couple!"--Laura would be a safe draw, andalthough he would not believe half he should hear, out of the bundle ofchaff he possibly could collect some grains of wheat which might come inuseful. 

"Devoted couple!" she laughed. "Tristram is by no means the first withher. There is a very handsome foreign gentleman, looking like Romeo, orRizzio--"

"Or any other 'O, '" put in Lord Elterton. 

"Exactly--in whom she is much more interested. Poor Tristram! He hasplenty to discover, I fear. "

"How do you come to know about it? You are a wonder, LadyHighford--always so full of interesting information!"

"I happened to see them at Waterloo together--evidently just arrivedfrom somewhere--and Tristram thought she was safe in Paris! Poor dear!"

"You have told him about it, of course?"--anxiously. 

"I did just give him a hint. "

"That was wise. " And Lord Elterton smiled blandly and she did not seethe twinkle in his eye. "He was naturally grateful?" he askedsympathetically. 

"Not now, perhaps, but some day he will be!"

Laura's light hazel eyes flashed, and Lord Elterton laughed again as heanswered lightly, "There certainly is a poor spirit in the old boy if he doesn't feelunder a lifelong obligation to you for your goodness. I should, if itwere me. --Look, though, we shall have to go now; they are beginning tosay good night. "

And as they found the others he thought to himself, "Well, men may bepoachers like I am, but I am hanged if they are such weasels as women!"

Lady Anningford joined Lady Ethelrida that night in her room, after theyhad seen Zara to hers, and they began at once upon the topic which wasthrilling them all. 

"There is something the matter, Ethelrida, darling, " Lady Anningfordsaid. "I have talked to Tristram for a long time to-night, and, althoughhe was bravely trying to hide it, he was bitterly miserable; spokerecklessly of life one minute, and resignedly the next; and then askedme, with an air as if in an abstract discussion, whether Hector andTheodora were really happy--because she had been a widow. And when Isaid, 'Yes, ideally so, ' and that they never want to be dragged awayfrom Bracondale, he said, so awfully sadly, 'Oh, I dare-say; but thenthey have children. ' It is too pitiful to hear him, after only a week!What can it be? What can have happened in the time?"

"It is not since, Anne, " Ethelrida said, beginning to unfasten herdress. "It was always like that. She had just the look in her eyes thenight we all first met her, at Mr. Markrute's at dinner--that strange, angry, pained, sorrowful look, as though she were a furnace ofresentment against some fate. I remember an old colored picture we hadon a screen--it is now in the housekeeper's room--it was one of thosebadly-drawn, lurid scenes of prisoners being dragged off to Siberia inthe snow, and there was a woman in it who had just been separated fromher husband and baby and who had exactly the same expression. It used tohaunt me as a child, and Mamma had it taken out of the old nursery. AndZara's eyes haunt me now in the same way. "

"She never had any children, I suppose?" asked Lady Anningford. 

"Never that I heard of--and she is so young; only twenty-three now. "

"Well, it is too tragic! And what is to be done? Can't you ask theuncle? He must know. "

"I did, to-night, Anne--and he answered, so strangely, that 'yes, therewas something which at times troubled her, but it would pass. '"

"Good gracious!" said Anne. "It can't be a hallucination. She is notcrazy, is she? That would be worse than anything. "

"Oh, no!" cried Ethelrida, aghast. "It is not that in the least, thankgoodness!"

"Then perhaps there are some terrible scenes, connected with her firsthusband's murder, which she can't forget. The Crow told me Count Shulskiwas shot at Monte Carlo, in a fray of some sort. "

"That must be it, of course!" said Ethelrida, much relieved. "Then shewill get over it in time. And surely Tristram will be able to make herlove him, and forget them. I do feel better about it now, Anne, andshall be able to sleep in peace. "

So they said good night, and separated--comforted. 

But the object of their solicitude did not attempt to get into her bedwhen she had dismissed her maid. She sat down in one of the big giltWilliam-and-Mary armchairs, and clasped her hands tightly, and tried tothink. 

Things were coming to a crisis with her. Destiny had given her anothercross to bear, for suddenly this evening, as the Duke spoke of his wife, she had become conscious of the truth about herself: she was in lovewith her husband. And she herself had made it impossible that he couldever come back to her. For, indeed, the tables were turned, with one ofthose ironical twists of Fate. 

And she questioned herself--Why did she love him? She had reproached himon her wedding night, when he had told her he loved her, because in herignorance she felt then it could only be a question of sense. She hadcalled him an animal! she remembered; and now she had become an animalherself! For she could prove no loftier motive for her emotion towardshim than he had had for her then: they knew one another no better. Ithad not been possible for her passion to have arisen from the reasonsshe remembered having hurled at him as the only ones from which truelove could spring, namely, knowledge, and tenderness, and devotion. Itwas all untrue; she understood it now. Love--deep and tender--could leapinto being from the glance of an eye. 

They were strangers to each other still, and yet this cruel, terriblething called love had broken down all the barriers in her heart, meltedthe disdainful ice, and turned it to fire. She felt she wanted to caresshim, and take away the stern, hard look from his face. She wanted to begentle, and soft, and loving--to feel that she belonged to him. And shepassionately longed for him to kiss her and clasp her to his heart. Whether he had consented originally to marry her for her uncle's moneyor not, was a matter, now, of no further importance. He had loved herafter he had seen her, at all events, and she had thrown it all away. Nothing but a man's natural jealousy of his possessions remained. 

"Oh, why did I not know what I was doing!" she moaned to herself, as sherocked in the chair. "I must have been very wicked in some former life, to be so tortured in this!"

But it was too late now. She had burnt her ships, and nothing remainedto her but her pride. Since she had thrown away joy she could at leastkeep that and never let him see how she was being punished. 

And to-night it was her turn to look in anguish at the closed door, andto toss in restless pain of soul, on her bed. 

CHAPTER XXVII

A bombshell, in the shape of Lady Betty Burns, burst into the bedroom ofEmily and Mary next morning, while the two girls were sitting up intheir great bed at about eight o'clock, reading their letters andsipping their tea. 

"May I come in, darlings?" a voice full of purpose said, and a flaxenhead peeped in. 

"Why, Betty, of course!" both girls answered and, in a blue silkdressing-gown and a long fair plait of hair hanging down, Lady Bettystalked in. 

None of the Council of Three, going to deliver secret sentence, couldhave advanced with more dignity or consciousness of the solemnity of theoccasion. Emily and Mary were thrilled. 

"Be prepared!" she said dramatically, while she climbed to the foot ofthe bed and sat down. "It is just what I told you. She's been theheroine of a murder--if she did not do it herself!"

"Heavens! Betty, who?" almost screamed the girls. 

"Your sister-in-law! I had to come at once to tell you, darlings. Lastnight, Aunt Muriel (the young Lady Melton was her uncle's second wifeand chaperoning her to the party) would drag me into her room, and Icould not get to you. You would have been asleep when I at last escaped, so I determined to come the first thing this morning and tell you mynews. "

Four round eyes of excited horror fixed themselves upon her, so withdeep importance of voice and manner, Lady Betty went on:

"I sat with Captain Hume in the picture gallery, just before we went tobed. Believe me, I have not been able to sleep all night from it, dears!Well, we had been speaking of that fighting scene by Teniers in a beerhouse, you know, the one which hangs by the big Snuyders. The moon--no, it could not have been the moon. It must have been the arc light overthe entrance which shines in from the angle. Anyway, it felt as if itwere the moon, when I drew aside the blind; and it struck my heart witha cold foreboding, as he said such things, fights, happened nowsometimes, and he was at Monte Carlo when Count Shulski was shot; and, though it was hushed up by the authorities and no one hardly heard of itmuch, still it made a stir. And, " continued Lady Betty, now risingmajestically and pointing an accusing forefinger at Emily and Mary, "Countess Shulski was your sister-in-law's name!"

"Oh, hush, Betty!" said Emily, almost angrily. "You must not say suchthings. There might have been a lot of Count Shulskis. Foreigners areall counts. "

But Lady Betty shook her head with tragic sorrow and dignity, much atvariance with her sweet little childish turned-up nose. 

"Alas, darlings, far be it from me to bring the terrible conviction hometo you!" Great occasions like this required a fine style, she felt. "Farbe it from me! But Captain Hume went on to say, that, of course, was thereason of Lady Tancred's dreadfully mysterious and remorseful look. "

"It is perfectly impossible, Betty, " Mary cried excitedly. "But even ifher husband were shot, it does not prove she had anything to do withit. "

"Of course it does!" said Lady Betty, forgetting for a moment her style. "There's always a scene of jealousy, in which the husband stabs theother man, and then falls dead himself. Unless, " and this new brightthought came to her, "she were a political spy!"

"Oh, Betty!" they both exclaimed at once. And then Emily said gravely, "Please do tell us exactly what Captain Hume really said. Remember, itis our brother's wife you are speaking of, not one of the heroines inyour plays!"

Thus admonished, Lady Betty got back on to the bed, and gradually camedown to facts, which were meager enough. For Captain Hume had instantlypulled himself up, it appeared; and he had merely said that, as herfirst husband had been killed in a row, Lady Tancred had cause to havetragedy imprinted upon her face. 

"Betty, dearest, " Emily then said, "please, please don't tell anythingof your exciting story to any one else, will you? Because people are sounkind. "

At this, Lady Betty bounced off again offendedly. 

"You are an ungrateful pair, " she flashed. "Before I brave meeting JimmyDanvers in the passage again, in my dressing-gown, to come and tell youdelicious things, I'll be hanged!"

And it was with difficulty that Emily and Mary mollified her, and gother to re-seat herself on the bed and have a bit of theirbread-and-butter. She had fled to announce her thrilling news before herown tea had come. 

"I do think men look perfectly horrid with their hair unbrushed in themorning, don't you, Em?" she said, presently, as she munched, whileMary poured her out some tea into the emptied sugar-basin and handed itto her. "Henry's fortunate, because his is curly"--Here Maryblushed--"and I believe Jimmy Danvers gets his valet to glue his downbefore he goes to bed. But you should see what Aunt Muriel has to put upwith, when Uncle Aubrey comes in to talk to her, while I am there. Thefront, anyhow, and a lock sticking up in the back! There is one thing Iam determined about. Before I'm married, I shall insist upon knowing howmy husband stands the morning light. "

"I thought you said just now Jimmy's was quite decent and glued down, "Emily retorted slyly. 

"Pouff!" said Lady Betty, with superb calm. "I have not made up my mindat all about Jimmy. He is dying to ask me, I know; but there is BobbyHarland, too. However, this morning--"

"You've seen Jimmy this morning, Betty!" Mary exclaimed. 

"Well, how could I help it, girls?" Lady Betty went on, feeling that shewas now a heroine. "I had to come to you. It was my bounden duty; andit's miles away, for Aunt Muriel always will have me in thedressing-room next her, when she takes me to stay out, and Uncle Aubreyacross the passage; and it makes him so cross. But that's not it. Imean, it is not my fault, if the Duke has only arranged three newbathrooms down the bachelors' wing, and people are obliged to be waitingabout for their turn, and I had to pass the entrance to that passage, and it happened to be Jimmy's, and he was just going in, when he saw meand rushed along, and said 'Good morning, ' not a bit put out! I thoughtit would look silly to run, so I said 'Good morning, ' too; and then weboth giggled, and I came on. But I am rather glad after all, becausenow I've seen him; and he looks better--like that--than I am sure Bobbywould have done, so perhaps, after all, I'll marry him! And you will bemy bridesmaids, darlings, and now I must run!"

Upon such slender threads--the brushing of his hair--how often does thefate of man hang! If he but knew!

Almost every one was punctual for breakfast. They all came in with theirgifts for Lady Ethelrida; and there was much chaffing and joking, anddelightful little shrieks of surprise, as the parcels were opened. 

Every soul loved Lady Ethelrida, from the lordly Groom of the Chambersto the humblest pantry boy and scullery maid; and it was their delightevery year to present her, from them all, with a huge trophy of flowers, while the post brought countless messages and gifts of remembrance fromabsent friends. No one could have been more sweet and gracious than herladyship was; and underneath, her gentle heart was beating with an extraexcitement, when she thought of her rendezvous at half-past ten o'clock. Would he--she no longer thought of him as Mr. Markrute--would he be ableto find the way?

"I must go and give some orders now, " she said, about a quarter pastten, to the group which surrounded her, when they had all got up andwere standing beside the fire. "And we all assemble in the hall ateleven. " And so she slipped away. 

Francis Markrute, she noticed, had retired some moments before. 

"Heinrich, " he had said to his Austrian valet, the previous evening, ashe was helping him on with his coat for dinner, "I may want to know thelocality of the Lady Ethelrida's sitting-room early to-morrow. Make ityour business to become friendly with her ladyship's maid, so that Ican have a parcel of books, which will arrive in the morning, placedsafely there at any moment I want to, unobserved. Unpack the books, leaving their tissue papers still upon them, and bring them in when youcall me. I will give you further orders then for their disposal. Youunderstand?"

It was as well to be prepared for anything, he thought, which was mostfortunate, as it afterwards turned out. He had meant to make her ask himto her sitting-room in any case, and his happiness was augmented, asthey had talked in the picture gallery, when she did it of her ownaccord. 

Lady Ethelrida stood looking out of her window, in her fresh, white-paneled, lilac-chintzed bower. Her heart was actually thumpingnow. She had not noticed the books, which were carefully placed in apile down beside her writing table. Would he ever get away from herfather, who seemed to have taken to having endless political discussionswith him? Would he ever be able to come in time to talk for a moment, before they must both go down? She had taken the precaution to makeherself quite ready to start--short skirt, soft felt hat, thick bootsand all. 

Would he? But as half-past ten chimed from the Dresden clock on themantelpiece, there was a gentle tap at the door, and Francis Markrutecame in. 

He knew in an instant, experienced fowler that he was, that his bird wasfluttered with expectancy, and it gave him an exquisite thrill. He wasperfectly cognizant of the value of investing simple circumstances withdelightful mystery, at times; and he knew, to the Lady Ethelrida, thistrysting with him had become a momentous thing. 

"You see, I found the way, " he said softly, and he allowed something ofthe joy and tenderness he felt to come into his voice. 

And Lady Ethelrida answered a little nervously that she was glad, andthen continued quickly that she must show him her bookcases, becausethere was so little time. 

"Only one short half-hour--if you will let me stay so long, " he pleaded. 

In his hand he carried the original volume he had spoken about, a veryold edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, from which he had carefully hadone or two removed. It was exquisitely bound and tooled, and had hermonogram worked into a beautiful little medallion--a work of art. Hehanded it to her first. 

"This I ventured to have ordered for you long ago, " he said. "Six weeksit is nearly, and I so feared until yesterday that you would not let megive it to you. It does not mean for your birthday: it is our originalbond of acquaintance. "

"It is too beautiful, " said Lady Ethelrida, looking down. 

"And over there by your writing table"--he had carefully ascertainedthis locality from Heinrich--"you will find the books that are mybirthday gift, if you will give me the delight of accepting them. "

She went forward with a little cry of surprise and pleasure, while, instantaneously, the wonder of how he should know where they would bepresented itself to her mind. 

They were about six volumes. A Heine, a couple of de Musset's, and thenthree volumes of selected poems, from numbers of the English poets. Lady Ethelrida picked them up delightedly. They, too, were works of art, in their soft mauve morocco bindings, _chiffré_, with her monogram likethe other, and tooled with gold. 

"How enchanting!" she said. "And look! They match my room. How could youhave guessed--?" And then she broke off and again looked down. 

"You told me, the night I dined with you at Glastonbury House, that youloved mauve as a color and that violets were your favorite flower. Howcould I forget?" And he permitted himself to come a step nearer to her. 

She did not move away. She turned over the leaves of the English volumerather hurriedly. The paper was superlatively fine and the print a gemof art. And then she looked up, surprised. 

"I have never seen this collection before, " she said wonderingly. "Allthe things one loves under the same cover!" And then she turned to thetitle-page to see which edition it was; and she found that, as far asinformation went, it was blank. Simply, "To The Lady Ethelrida Montfitchet from "F. M. "

was inscribed upon it in gold. A deep pink flush grew on her delicateface, and she dared not raise her eyes. 

It would be too soon yet to tell her everything that was in his heart, he reasoned. All could be lost by one false step. So, with his masterlyself-control, he resisted all temptation to fold her in his arms, andsaid gently:

"I thought it would be nice to have, as you say, 'all the bits oneloves' put together; and I have a very intelligent friend at mybook-binder's, who, when I had selected them, had them all arranged andprinted for me, and bound as I thought you might wish. It will gratifyme greatly, if it has pleased you. "

"Pleased me!" she said, and now she looked up; for the sudden convictioncame to her, that to have this done took time and a great deal of money;and except once or twice before, casually, she had never met him untilthe evening, when, among a number of her father's political friends, hehad dined at their London house. When could he have given the order andwhat could this mean? He read her thoughts. 

"Yes, " he said simply. "From the very first moment I ever saw you, LadyEthelrida, to me you seemed all that was true and beautiful, theembodiment of my ideal of womanhood. I planned these books then, twodays after I dined with you at Glastonbury House; and, if you hadrefused them, it would have caused me pain. "

Ethelrida was so moved by some new, sudden and exquisite emotion thatshe could not reply for a moment. He watched her with growing andpassionate delight, but he said nothing. He must give her time. 

"It is too, too nice of you, " she said softly, and there was a littlecatch in her breath. "No one has ever thought of anything so exquisitefor me before, although, as you saw this morning, every one is so verykind. How shall I thank you, Mr. Markrute? I do not know. "

"You must not thank me at all, you gracious lady, " he said. "And now Imust tell you that the half-hour is nearly up, and we must go down. But--may I--will you let me come again, perhaps to-morrow afternoon? Iwant to tell you, if it would interest you, the history of a man. "

Ethelrida had turned to look at the clock, also, and had collectedherself. She was too single-minded to fence now, or to push this new, strange joy out of her life, so she said, "When the others go out for a walk, then, after lunch, yes, you maycome. "

And without anything further, they left the room. At the turn in thecorridor to the other part of the house, he bent suddenly; and with deephomage kissed her hand, then let her pass on, while he turned to theright and disappeared towards the wing, where was his room. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

Zara had, at first, thought she would not go out with the shooters. Shefelt numb, as if she could not pluck up enough courage to makeconversation with any one. She had received a letter from Mimo, by thesecond post, with all details of what he had heard of Mirko. LittleAgatha, the Morleys' child, was to return home the following day; andMirko himself had written an excited little letter to announce thisevent, which Mimo enclosed. He seemed perfectly well then, only at theend, as she would see, he had said he was dreaming of _Maman_ everynight; and Mimo knew that this must mean he was a little feverish again, so he had felt it wiser to telegraph. Mirko had written out the score ofthe air which _Maman_ always came and taught him, and he was longing toplay it to his dear Papa and his Chérisette, the letter ended with. 

And the pathos of it all caused Zara a sharp pain. She did not dare tolook ahead, as far as her little brother was concerned. Indeed, to lookahead, in any case, meant nothing very happy. 

She was just going up the great staircase at about a quarter to eleven, with the letter in her hand, when she met Tristram coming from his room, with his shooting boots on, ready to start. He stopped and saidcoldly--they had not spoken a word yet that day--

"You had better be quick putting your things on. My uncle always startspunctually. "

Then his eye caught the foreign writing on the letter, and he turnedbrusquely away, although, as he reasoned with himself a momentafterwards, it was ridiculous of him to be so moved, because she wouldnaturally have a number of foreign correspondents. She saw him turnaway, and it angered her in spite of her new mood. He need not show hisdislike so plainly, she thought. So she answered haughtily, "I had not intended to come. I am tired; and I do not know this sport, or whether it will please me. I should feel for the poor birds, Iexpect. "

"I am sorry you are tired, " he answered, contrite in an instant. "Ofcourse, you must not come if you are. They will be awfully disappointed. But never mind. I will tell Ethelrida. "

"It is nothing--my fatigue, I mean. If you think your cousin will mind, I will come. " And she turned, without waiting for him to answer, andwent on to her room. 

And Tristram, after going back to his for something he had forgotten, presently went on down the stairs, a bitter smile on his face, and atthe bottom met--Laura Highford. 

She looked up into his eyes, and allowed tears to gather in hers. Shehad always plenty at her command. 

"Tristram, " she said with extreme gentleness, "you were cross with meyesterday afternoon, because you thought I was saying something aboutyour wife. But don't you know, can't you understand, what it is to me tosee you devoted to another woman? You may be changed, but I am alwaysthe same, and I--I--" And here she buried her face in her hands and wentinto a flood of tears. 

Tristram was overcome with confusion and horror. He loathed scenes. Good heavens! If any one should come along!

"Laura, for goodness' sake! My dear girl, don't cry!" he exclaimed. Hefelt he would say anything to comfort her, and get over the chance ofsome one seeing this hateful exhibition. 

But she continued to sob. She had caught sight of Zara's figure on thelanding above, and her vengeful spirit desired to cause trouble, even ata cost to herself. Zara had been perfectly ready, all but her hat, andhad hurried exceedingly to be in time, and thus had not been fiveminutes after her husband. 

"Tristram!" wailed Laura, and, putting up her hands, placed them on hisshoulders. "Darling, just kiss me once--quickly--to say good-bye. "

And it was at this stage that Zara came full upon them, from a turn inthe stairs. She heard Tristram say disgustedly, "No, I won't, " and sawLady Highford drop her arms; and in the three steps that separated them, her wonderful iron self-control, the inheritance of all her years ofsuffering, enabled her to stop as if she had seen nothing, and in anordinary voice ask if they were to go to the great hall. 

"The woman, " as she called Laura, should not have the satisfaction ofseeing a trace of emotion in her, or Tristram either. He had answeredimmediately, "Yes, " and had walked on by her side, in an absolutelyraging temper. 

How dare Laura drag him into a disgraceful and ridiculous scene likethis! He could have wrung her neck. What must Zara think? That he wassimply a cad! He could not offer a single explanation, either; indeed, she had demanded none. He did blurt out, after a moment, "Lady Highford was very much upset about something. She is hysterical. "

"Poor thing!" said Zara indifferently, and walked on. 

But when they got into the hall, where most of the company were, shesuddenly felt her knees giving way under her, and hurriedly sank down onan oak chair. 

She felt sick with jealous pain, even though she had plainly seen thatTristram was no willing victim. But upon what terms could they be, orhave been, for Lady Highford so to lose all sense of shame?

Tristram was watching her anxiously. She must have seen the humiliatingexhibition. It followed, then, she was perfectly indifferent, or shewould have been annoyed. He wished that she had reproached him, or saidsomething--anything--but to remain completely unmoved was too maddening. 

Then the whole company, who were coming out, appeared, and they started. Some of the men were drawing lots to see if they should shoot in themorning or in the afternoon. The party was primarily for LadyEthelrida's birthday, and the shoot merely an accessory. 

Zara walked by the Crow, who was not shooting at all. She was weariedwith Lord Elterton; wearied with every one. The Crow was sententious andamused her, and did not expect her to talk. 

"You have never seen your husband shoot yet, I expect, Lady Tancred, have you?" he asked her; and when she said, "No, " he went on, "Becauseyou must watch him. He is a very fine shot. "

She did not know anything about shooting, only that Tristram lookedparticularly attractive in his shooting clothes, and that Englishsportsmen were natural, unceremonious creatures, whom she was beginningto like very much. She wished she could open her heart to this quaint, kind old man, and ask him to explain things to her; but she could not, and presently they got to a safe place and watched. 

Tristram happened to be fairly near them; and, yes, he was a goodshot--she could see that. But, at first, the thud of the beautifulpheasants falling to the ground caused her to wince--she, who had lookedupon the shattered face of Ladislaus, her husband, with only a quiver ofdisgust! But these creatures were in the glory of their beauty and thejoy of life, and had preyed upon the souls of no one. 

Her wonderful face, which interested Colonel Lowerby so, was againabstracted. Something had brought back that hateful moment to hermemory; she could hear Féto, the dancer's shrieks, and see the blood;and she shivered suddenly and clasped her hands. 

"Do you mind seeing the birds come down?" the Crow asked kindly. 

"I do not know, " she said. "I was thinking of some other shooting. "

"Because, " the Crow went on, "the women who rage against sport forgetone thing, --the birds would not exist at all, if it were not forpreserving them for this very reason. They would gradually be trappedand snared and exterminated; whereas, now they have a royal time, offood and courtship and mating, and they have no knowledge of theircoming fate, and so live a life of splendor up to the last moment. "

"How much better! Yes, indeed, I will never be foolish about them again. I will think of that. " Then she exclaimed, "Oh, that was wonderful!" forTristram got two rocketters at right and left, and then another withhis second gun. His temper had not affected his eye, it seemed. 

"Tristram is one of the best all-round sportsmen I know, " the Crowannounced, "and he has one of the kindest hearts. I have known him sincehe was a toddler. His mother was one of the beauties, when I first puton a cuirass. "

Zara tried to control her interest, and merely said, "Yes?"

"Are you looking forward to the reception at Wrayth on Monday? I alwayswonder how a person unaccustomed to England would view all the speechesand dinners, the bonfire, and triumphal arches, and those things of ahome-coming. Rather an ordeal, I expect. "

Zara's eyes rounded, and she faltered, "And shall I have to go through all that?"

The Crow was nonplussed. Had not her husband, then, told her, what everyone else knew? Upon what terms could they possibly be? And before he wasaware of it, he had blurted out, "Good Lord!"

Then, recollecting himself, he said, "Why, yes. Tristram will say I have been frightening you. It is not sovery bad, after all--only to smile and look gracious and shake hands. They will be all ready to think you perfect, if you do that. Even thoughthere are a lot of beastly radicals about, Old England still bows downto a beautiful woman!"

Zara did not answer. She had heard about her beauty in most Europeanlanguages, since she was sixteen. It was the last thing which mattered, she thought. 

Then the Crow turned the conversation, as they walked on to the nextstand. 

Did she know that Lady Ethelrida had commanded that all the ladies wereto get up impromptu fancy dresses for to-night, her birthday dinner, andall the men would be in hunt coats? he asked. Large parties were comingfrom the only two other big houses near, and they would dance afterwardin the picture gallery. "A wonderful new band that came out in Londonthis season is coming down, " he ended with; and, then, as she repliedshe had heard, he asked her what she intended to be. "It must besomething with your hair down--you must give us the treat of that. "

"I have left it all to Lady Ethelrida and my sisters-in-law, " she said. "We are going to contrive things the whole afternoon, after lunch. "

Tristram came up behind them then, and the Crow stopped. 

"I was telling your wife she must give us the pleasure of seeing herhair down, to-night, for the Tomfools' dinner, but I can't get a promisefrom her. We will have to appeal to you to exert your lordly authority. Can't be deprived of a treat like that!"

"I am afraid I have no influence or authority, " Tristram answeredshortly, for with a sudden pang he thought of the only time he had seenthe glorious beauty of it, her hair, spread like a cloak around her, asshe had turned and ordered him out of her room at Dover. She rememberedthe circumstance, too, and it hurt her equally, so that they walkedalong silently, staring in front of them, and each suffering pain; when, if they had had a grain of sense, they would have looked into eachother's eyes, read the truth, and soon been in each other's arms. Butthey had not yet "dree'd their weird. " And Fate, who mocks at fools, would not yet let them be. 

So the clouds gathered overhead, as in their hearts, and it came on topour with rain; and the ladies made a hurried rush to the house. 

The hostess did not stand near Francis Markrute during the shooting. Some shy pleasure made her avoid him for the moment. She wanted to hugthe remembrance of her great joy of the morning, and the knowledge thatto-morrow, Sunday, after lunch, would bring her a like pleasure. And forthe time being there was the delight of thinking over what he had said, the subtlety of his gift, and the manner of its giving. 

Nothing so goes to the head of a woman of refined sensibilities as theintoxicating flattery of thought-out action in a man, when it is to layhomage at her feet, and the man is a grave and serious person, who is noworshiper of women. 

Ethelrida trod on air, and looked unusually sweet and gracious. 

And Francis Markrute watched her quietly, with great tenderness in hisheart, and not the faintest misgiving. "Slow and sure" was his motto, and thus he drew always the current of success and contentment. 

His only crumpled roseleaf was the face of his niece, which ratherhaunted him. There seemed no improvement in the relations of the pair, in spite of Zara having had ample cause to feel jealous about LadyHighford since their arrival. Elinka, too, had had strange andunreasonable turns in her nature, that is what had made her soattractive. What if Zara and this really fine young Englishman, withwhom he had mated her, should never get on? Then he laughed, when hethought of the impossibility of his calculations finally miscarrying. Itwas, of course, only a question of time. However, he would tell herbefore she left for her "home-coming" at Wrayth on Monday, what hethought it was now safe and advisable that she should know, namely, that on her husband's side the marriage had been one of headlong desirefor herself, after having refused the bargain before he had seen her. That would give her some bad moments of humiliation, he admitted, whichperhaps she had not deserved, though it would certainly bring her to herknees and so, to Tristram's arms. 

But for once, being really quite preoccupied with his own affairs and alittle unbalanced by love as well, he miscalculated the force of awoman's pride. Zara's one idea now was to hide from Tristram the stateof her feelings, believing, poor, bruised, wounded thing, that he nolonger cared for her, believing that she herself had extinguished thetorch of love. 

CHAPTER XXIX

There was an air of restrained excitement, importance and mystery amongthe ladies at luncheon. They had got back to the house in time to havetheir conclave before that meal, and everything was satisfactorilysettled. Lady Anningford, who had not accompanied them out shooting, hadthought out a whole scheme, and announced it upon their return amidstacclamations. 

They would represent as many characters as they could from the "Idyllsof the King, " because the style would be such loose, hanging kinds ofgarments, the maids could run up the long straight seams in no time. Andit would be so much more delightful, all to carry out one idea, than theusual powdered heads and non-descript things people chose for suchimpromptu occasions. It only remained to finally decide the characters. She considered that Ethelrida should undoubtedly be _Guinevere_; but, above all, Zara must be _Isolt_!

"Of course, of course!" they all cried unanimously, while Zara's eyeswent black. "_Tristram_ and _Isolt_! How splendid!"

"And I shall be _Brangaine_, and give the love potion, " Lady Anningfordwent on. "Although it does not come into the 'Idylls of the King, ' itshould do so. It is just because Tennyson was so fearfully, respectablyEarly Victorian! I have been looking all the real thing up in the 'Morted' Arthur' in the library, and in the beautiful edition of 'Tristramand Yseult' in Ethelrida's room. "

"How perfectly enchanting!" cried Lady Betty. "I must be the _Lady ofthe Lake_--it is much the most dramatic part. And let us get the bigsword out of the armory for _Excalibur_! I can have it, and brandish itas I enter the room. "

"Oh, nonsense, Betty darling!" Ethelrida said. "You are the very pictureof _Lynette_, with your enchanting nose 'tiptilted like the tender petalof a flower, ' and your shameful treatment of poor Jimmy!"

And Lady Betty, after bridling a little, consented. 

Then the other parts were cast. Emily should be _Enid_ and Mary, _Elaine_, while Lady Melton, Lady Thornby and Mrs. Harcourt should bethe _Three Fair Queens_. 

"I shall be _Ettarre_, " said Lily Opie. "The others are all good anddull; and I prefer her, because I am sure she wasn't! And certainly LadyHighford must be _Vivien_! She is exactly the type, in one of hertea gowns!"

Laura rather liked the idea of _Vivien_. It had _cachet_, she thought. She was very fond of posing as a mysterious enchantress, the mystictouch pleased her vanity. 

So, of the whole party, only Zara did not feel content. Tristram mightthink she had chosen this herself, as an advance towards him. 

Then the discussion, as to the garments to be worn, began. Numbers ofornaments and bits of tea-gowns would do. But with her usual practicalforethought, Lady Anningford had already taken time by the forelock, andasked that one of the motors, going in to Tilling Green on a message, should bring back all the bales of bright and light-colored merinos andnunscloths the one large general shop boasted of. 

And, amidst screams of delighted excitement from the girls, the immenseparcel was presently unpacked. 

It contained marvels of white and creams, and one which was declared theexact thing for _Isolt_. It was a merino of that brilliant violent shadeof azure, the tone which is advertised as "Rickett's Paris blue" forwashing clothes. It had been in the shop for years, and was unearthedfor this occasion--a perfect relic of later Victorian aniline dye. 

"It will be simply too gorgeously wonderful, with just a fillet of goldround her head, and all her adorable red hair hanging down, " LadyAnningford said to Ethelrida. 

"We shan't have to wear a stitch underneath, " Lady Betty announceddecidedly, while she pirouetted before a cheval glass--they were all inLady Anningford's room--with some stuff draped round her childish form. "The gowns must have the right look, just long, straight things, withhanging sleeves and perhaps a girdle. I shall have cream, and you, Mary, as _Elaine_, must have white; but Emily had better have that mauve for_Enid_, as she was married. "

"Why must _Enid_ have mauve because she is married?" asked Emily, whodid not like the color. 

"I don't know why, " Lady Betty answered, "except that, if you aremarried, you can't possibly have white, like Mary and me, who aren't. People are quite different--after, and mauve is very respectable forthem, " she went on. Grammar never troubled her little ladyship, whengiving her valuable opinion upon things and life. 

"I think _Enid_ was a goose, " said Emily, pouting. 

"Not half as much as _Elaine_, " said Mary. "She had secured her_Geraint_, whereas _Elaine_ made a perfect donkey of herself over_Lancelot_, who did not care for her. "

"I like our parts much the best, Lily's and mine, " said Lady Betty. "Ido give my Jim--Gareth?--a lively time, at all events! Just what Ishould do, if it were in real life. "

"What you do do, you mean, not what you would do, Minx!" said her aunt, laughing. 

And at this stage the shooters were seen advancing across the park, andthe band of ladies, full of importance, descended to luncheon. 

Lady Anningford sat next the Crow and told him what they had decided, instrict confidence, of course. 

"We shall have the most delightful fun, Crow. I have thought it all out. At dessert I am going to hand one of the gold cups in which we are goingto put a glass of some of the Duke's original old Chartreuse, to thebridal pair, as if to drink their health; and then, when they have drunkit, I am going to be overcome at the mistake of having given them alove-potion, just as in the real story! You can't tell--it may bringthem together. "

"Queen Anne, you wonder!" said the Crow. 

"It is such a deliciously incongruous idea, you see, " Lady Anningfordwent on. "All of us in long pre-mediaeval garments, with floating hair, and all of you in modern hunt coats! I should like to have seen Tristramin gold chain armor. "

The Crow grunted approval. 

"Ethelrida is going to arrange that they go in to dinner together. Sheis going to say it will be their last chance before they get to _KingMark_. Won't it all be perfect?"

"Well, I suppose you know best, " the Crow said, with his wise old headon one side. "But they are at a ticklish pass in their careers, I tellyou. The balance might go either way. Don't make it too hard for them, out of mistaken kindness. "

"You are tiresome, Crow!" retorted Lady Anningford. "I never can do athing I think right without your warning me over it. Do leave it to me. "

So, thus admonished, Colonel Lowerby went on with his luncheon. 

Zara's eyes looked more stormy than ever, when her husband chanced tosee them. He was sitting nearly opposite her, and he wondered what onearth she was thinking about. He was filled with a concentratedbitterness from the events of the morning. Her utter indifference overthe Laura incident had galled him unbearably, although he told himself, as he had done before, the unconscionable fool he was to allow himselfto go on being freshly wounded by each continued proof of her disdain ofhim. Why, when he knew a thing, should he not be prepared for it? He hada strong will; he _would_ overcome his emotion for her. He could, atleast, make himself treat her, outwardly with the same apparent insolentindifference, as she treated him. 

He made a firm resolve once again, he would not speak to her at all, anymore than he had done the last three days in Paris. He would accept theposition until the Wrayth rejoicings were over, and then he wouldcertainly make arrangements to go and shoot lions, or travel, orsomething. There should be no further "perhaps" about it. Life, with theagonizing longing for her, seeing her daily and being denied, was morethan could be borne. 

There was something about Zara's type, the white, exquisite beauty ofher skin, her slenderly voluptuous shape, the stormy suggestion ofhidden passion in her slumberous eyes, which had always arousedabsolutely mad emotions in men. Tristram, who was a normal Englishman, self-contained and reserved, and too completely healthy to behighly-strung, felt undreamed-of sensations rise in him when he lookedat her, which was as rarely as possible. He understood now what wasmeant by an obsession--all the states of love he had read of in Frenchnovels and dismissed as "tommyrot. " She did not only affect him with athrilling physical passion. It was an obsession of the mind as well. Hesuffered acutely; as each day passed it seemed as if he could not bearany more, and the next always brought some further pain. 

They had actually only been married for ten days! and it seemed aneternity of anguish to both of them, for different reasons. 

Zara's nature was trying to break through the iron bands of her lifetraining. Once she had admitted to herself that she loved her husband, her suffering was as deep as his, only that she was more practiced inthe art of suppressing all emotion. But it was no wonder that they bothlooked pale and stern, and quite unbridal. 

The sportsmen started immediately after lunch again, and the ladiesreturned to their delightful work; and, when they all assembled for tea, everything was almost completed. Zara had been unable to resist thecurrent of light-hearted gayety which was in the air, and now feltconsiderably better; so she allowed Lord Elterton to sit beside herafter tea and pour homage at her feet, with the expression of an empresslistening to an address of loyalty from some distant colony; and theCrow leant back in his chair and chuckled to himself, much to LadyAnningford's annoyance. 

"What in the world is it, Crow?" she said. "When you laugh like that, Ialways know some diabolically cynical idea is floating in your head, and it is not good for you. Tell me at once what you mean!"

But Colonel Lowerby refused to be drawn, and presently took Tristram offinto the billiard-room. 

It was arranged that all the men, even the husbands, were to go downinto the great white drawing-room first, so that the ladies might havethe pleasure of making an entrance _en bande_, to the delight of everyone. And when this group of Englishmen, so smart in their scarlet huntcoats, were assembled at the end, by the fireplace, footmen opened thebig double doors, and the groom of the chambers announced, "Her Majesty, _Queen Guinevere_, and the Ladies of her Court. "

And Ethelrida advanced, her fair hair in two long plaits, with hermother's all-round diamond crown upon her head, and clothed in somewhite brocade garment, arranged with a blue merino cloak, trimmed withermine and silver. She looked perfectly regal, and as nearly beautifulas she had ever done; and to the admiring eyes of Francis Markrute, sheseemed to outshine all the rest. 

Then, their names called as they entered, came Enid and Elaine, eachfair and sweet; and Vivien and Ettarre; then Lynette walking alone, withher saucy nose in the air and her flaxen curls spread out over her creamrobe, a most bewitching sight. 

Several paces behind her came the _Three Fair Queens_, all inwonderfully contrived garments, and misty, floating veils; and lastly, quite ten paces in the rear, walked _Isolt_, followed by her_Brangaine_. And when the group by the fireplace caught sight of her, they one and all drew in their breath. 

For Zara had surpassed all expectations. The intense and blatant blue ofher long clinging robe, which would have killed the charms of nine womenout of ten, seemed to enhance the beauty of her pure white skin andmarvelous hair. It fell like a red shining cloak all round her, kept inonly by a thin fillet of gold, while her dark eyes gleamed with a newexcitement. She had relaxed her dominion of herself, and was allowingthe natural triumphant woman in her to have its day. For once in herlife she forgot everything of sorrow and care, and permitted herself torejoice in her own beauty and its effect upon the world before her. 

"Jee-hoshaphat!" was the first articulate word that the company heard, from the hush which had fallen upon them; and then there was a chorus ofgeneral admiration, in which all the ladies had their share. And onlythe Crow happened to glance at Tristram, and saw that his face was whiteas death. 

Then the two parties, about twenty people in all, began to arrive fromthe other houses, and delighted exclamations of surprise at the splendorof the impromptu fancy garments were heard all over the room, and soondinner was announced, and they went in. 

"My Lord Tristram, " Ethelrida had said to her cousin, "I beg of you toconduct to my festal board your own most beautiful _Lady Isolt_. Remember, on Monday you leave us for the realm of _King Mark_, so makethe most of your time!" And she turned and led forward Zara, and placedher hand in his; she, and they all, were too preoccupied with excitementand joy to see the look of deep pain in his eyes. 

He held his wife's hand, until the procession started, and neither ofthem spoke a word. Zara, still exalted with the spirit of the night, felt only a wild excitement. She was glad he could see her beauty andher hair, and she raised her head and shook it back, as they started, with a provoking air. 

But Tristram never spoke; and by the time they had reached thebanqueting-hall, some of her exaltation died down, and she felt a chill. 

Her hair was so very long and thick that she had to push it aside, tosit down, and in doing so a mesh flew out and touched his face; and theCrow, who was watching the whole drama intently, noticed that heshivered and, if possible, grew more pale. So he turned to his ownservant, behind his chair, who with some of the other valets, washelping to wait, and whispered to him, "Go and see that Lord Tancred ishanded brandy, at once, before the soup. "

And so the feast began. 

On Zara's other hand sat the Duke, and on Tristram's, Brangaine--for soshe and Ethelrida had arranged for their later plan; and after thebrandy, which Tristram dimly wondered why he should have been handed, hepulled himself together, and tried to talk; and Zara busied herself withthe Duke. She quite came out of her usual silence, and laughed, andlooked so divinely attractive that the splendid old gentleman felt itall going to his head; and his thoughts wondered bluntly, how soon, ifhe were his nephew, he would take her away after dinner and make love toher all to himself! But these modern young fellows had not half themettle that he had had!

So at last dessert-time came, with its toasts for the _Queen Guinevere_. And the bridal pair had spoken together never a word; and LadyAnningford, who was watching them, began to fear for the success of herplan. However, there was no use turning back now. So, amidst jests ofall sorts in keeping with the spirit of Camelot and the Table Round, atlast _Brangaine_ rose and, taking the gold cup in front of her, said, "I, _Brangaine_, commissioned by her Lady Mother, to conduct the _LadyIsolt_ safely to _King Mark_, under the knightly protection of the _LordTristram_, do now propose to drink their health, and ye must all dolikewise, Lords and Ladies of Arthur's court. " And she sipped her ownglass, while she handed the gold cup to the Duke, who passed it on tothe pair; and Tristram, because all eyes were upon him, forced himselfto continue the jest. So he rose and, taking Zara's hand, while he bowedto the company, gave her the cup to drink, and then took it himself, while he drained the measure. And every one cried, amidst greatexcitement, "The health and happiness of _Tristram_ and _Isolt_!"

Then, when the tumult had subsided a little, _Brangaine_ gave apretended shriek. 

"Mercy me! I am undone!" she cried. "They have quaffed of the wrong cup!That gold goblet contained a love-potion distilled from rare plants bythe Queen, and destined for the wedding wine of _Isolt_ and _King Mark_!And now the _Lord Tristram_ and she have drunk it together, bymisadventure, and can never be parted more! Oh, misery me! What have Idone!"

And amidst shouts of delighted laughter led by the Crow--in frozensilence, Tristram held his wife's hand. 

But after a second, the breeding in them both, as on their weddingevening before the waiters, again enabled them to continue the comedy;and they, too, laughed, and, with the Duke's assistance, got through therest of dinner, until they all rose and went out, two and two, the menleading their ladies by the hand, as they had come in. 

And if the cup had indeed contained a potion distilled by the Irishsorceress Queen, the two victims could not have felt more passionatelyin love. 

But Tristram's pride won the day for him, for this one time, and not bya glance or a turn of his head did he let his bride see how wildly hersuperlative attraction had kindled the fire in his blood. And when thedancing began, he danced with every other lady first, and then went offinto the smoking-room, and only just returned in time to be made to leadout his "_Isolt_" in a final quadrille--not a valse. No powers wouldhave made him endure the temptation of a valse!

And even this much, the taking of her hand, her nearness, the sight ofthe exquisite curves of her slender figure, and her floating hair, caused him an anguish unspeakable, so that when the rest of the companyhad gone, and good nights were said, he went up to his room, changed hiscoat, and strode away alone, out into the night. 

CHAPTER XXX

Every one was so sleepy and tired on Sunday morning, after their nightat Arthur's Court, that only Lady Ethelrida and Laura Highford, who hada pose of extreme piety always ready at hand, started with the Duke andYoung Billy for church. Francis Markrute watched them go from hiswindow, which looked upon the entrance, and he thought how stately andnoble his fair lady looked; and he admired her disciplined attitude, nocarousal being allowed to interfere with her duties. She was a rare andperfect specimen of her class. 

His lady fair! For he had determined, if fate plainly gave him theindication, to risk asking her to-day to be his fair lady indeed. A manmust know when to strike, if the iron is hot. 

He had carefully prepared all the avenues; and had made himself of greatimportance to the Duke, allowing his masterly brain to be seen inglimpses, and convincing His Grace of his possible great usefulness tothe party to which he belonged. He did not look for continued oppositionin that quarter, once he should have assured himself that Lady Ethelridaloved him. That he loved her, with all the force of his self-containednature, was beyond any doubt. Love, as a rule, recks little of thesuitability of the object, when it attacks a heart; but in some fewcases--that is the peculiar charm--Francis Markrute had waited until hewas forty-six years old, firmly keeping to his ideal, until he foundher, in a measure of perfection, of which even he had not dared todream. His theory, which he had proved in his whole life, was thatnothing is beyond the grasp of a man who is master of himself and hisemotions. But even his iron nerves felt the tension of excitement, asluncheon drew to an end, and he knew in half an hour, when most of thecompany were safely disposed of, he should again find his way to hislady's shrine. 

Ethelrida did not look at him. She was her usual, charmingly-graciousself to her neighbors, solicitous of Tristram's headache. He had onlyjust appeared, and looked what he felt--a wreck. She was interested insome news in the Sunday papers, which had arrived; and in short, not asoul guessed how her gentle being was uplifted, and her tender heartbeating with this, the first real emotion she had ever experienced. 

Even the Crow, so thrilled with his interest in the bridal pair, had notscented anything unusual in his hostess's attitude towards one of herguests. 

"I think Mr. Markrute is awfully attractive, don't you, Crow?" said LadyAnningford, as they started for their walk. To go to Lynton Heightsafter lunch on Sunday was almost an invariable custom at Montfitchet. "Ican't say what it is, but it is something subtle and extraordinary, likethat in his niece--what do you think?"

Colonel Lowerby paused, struck from her words by the fact that he hadbeen too preoccupied to have noticed this really interesting man. 

"Why, 'pon my soul--I haven't thought!" he said, "but now you speak ofit, I do think he is a remarkable chap. "

"He is so very quiet, " Lady Anningford went on, "and, whenever hespeaks, it is something worth listening to; and if you get on anysubject of books, he is a perfect encyclopaedia. He gives me theimpression of all the forces of power and will, concentrated in a man. Iwonder who he really is? Not that it matters a bit in these days. Do youthink there is any Jew in him? It does not show in his type, but whenforeigners are very rich there generally is. "

"Sure to be, as he is so intelligent, " the Crow growled. "If you notice, numbers of the English families who show brains have a touch of it inthe background. So long as the touch is far enough away, I have noobjection to it myself--prefer folks not to be fools. "

"I believe I have no prejudices at all, " said Lady Anningford. "If Ilike people, I don't care what is in their blood. "

"It is all right till you scratch 'em. Then it comes out; but if, as Isay, it is far enough back, the Jew will do the future Tancred race apower of good, to get the commercial common sense of it into them--knewMaurice Grey, her father, years ago, and he was just as indifferent tomoney and material things, as Tristram is himself. So the good will comefrom the Markrute side, we will hope. "

"I rather wonder, Crow--if there ever will be any more of the Tancredrace. I thought last night we had a great failure, and that nothing willmake that affair prosper. I don't believe they ever see one another fromone day to the next! It is extremely sad. "

"I told you they had come to a ticklish point in their careers, " theCrow permitted himself to remind his friend, "and, 'pon my soul, I couldnot bet you one way or another how it will go. 'I hae me doots, ' as theScotchman said. "

Meanwhile, Ethelrida, on the plea of letters to write, had retired toher room; and there, as the clock struck a quarter past three, sheawaited--what? She would not own to herself that it was her fate. Shethrew dust in her own eyes, and called it a pleasant talk!

She looked absurdly young for her twenty-six years, just a dainty slipof a patrician girl, as she sat there on her chintz sofa, with its freshpattern of lilacs and tender green. Everything was in harmony, even toher soft violet cloth dress trimmed with fur. 

And again as the hour for the trysting chimed, her lover that was to be, entered the room. 

"This is perfectly divine, " he said, as he came in, while the roguishtwinkle of a schoolboy, who has outwitted his mates sparkled in his fineeyes. "All those good people tramping for miles in the cold and damp, while we two sensible ones are going to enjoy a nice fire and a friendlychat. "

Thus he disarmed her nervousness, and gave her time. 

"May I sit by you, my Lady Ethelrida?" he said; and as she smiled, hetook his seat, but not too near her--nothing must be the least hurriedor out of place. 

So for about a quarter of an hour they talked of books--theirfavorites--hers, all so simple and chaste, his, of all kinds, so long asthey showed style, and were masterpieces of taste and balance. Then, asa great piece of wood fell in the open grate and made a volley ofsparks, he leaned forward a little and asked her if he might tell herthat for which he had come, the history of a man. 

The daylight was drawing in, and they had an hour before them. 

"Yes, " said Ethelrida, "only let us make up the fire first, and onlyturn on that one soft light, " and she pointed to a big gray china owlwho carried a simple shade of white painted with lilacs on his back. "Then we need not move again, because I want extremely to hear it--thehistory of a man. "

He obeyed her commands, and also drew the silk blinds. 

"Now, indeed, we are happy; at least, I am, " he said. 

Lady Ethelrida leant back on her muslin embroidered cushion and preparedherself to listen with a rapt face. 

Francis Markrute stood by the fire for a while, and began from there:

"You must go right back with me to early days, Sweet Lady, " he said, "toa palace in a gloomy city and to an artiste--a ballet-dancer--but at thesame time a great _musicienne_ and a good and beautiful woman, a womanwith red, splendid hair, like my niece. There she lived in a palace inthis city, away from the world with her two children; an Emperor was herlover and her children's father; and they all four were happy as the daywas long. The children were a boy and a girl, and presently they beganto grow up, and the boy began to think about life and to reason thingsout with himself. He had, perhaps, inherited this faculty from hisgrandfather, on his mother's side, who was a celebrated poet andphilosopher and a Spanish Jew. So his mother, the beautiful dancer, washalf Jewess, and, from her mother again, half Spanish noble; for thisphilosopher had eloped with the daughter of a Spanish grandee, and shewas erased from the roll. I go back this far not to weary you, but thatyou may understand what forces in race had to do with the boy'scharacter. The daughter again of this pair became an artist and adancer, and being a highly educated, as well as a superbly beautifulwoman--a woman with all Zara's charm and infinitely more chiseledfeatures--she won the devoted love of the Emperor of the country inwhich they lived. I will not go into the moral aspect of the affair. Agreat love recks not of moral aspects. Sufficient to say, they wereideally happy while the beautiful dancer lived. She died when the boywas about fifteen, to his great and abiding grief. His sister, who was ayear or two younger than he, was then all he had to love, becausepolitical and social reasons in that country made it very difficult, about this time, for him often to see his father, the Emperor. 

"The boy was very carefully educated, and began early, as I have toldyou, to think for himself and to dream. He dreamed of things which mighthave been, had he been the heir and son of the Empress, instead of thechild of her who seemed to him so much the greater lady and queen, hisown mother, the dancer; and he came to see that dreams that are basedupon regrets are useless and only a factor in the degradation, not theuplifting of a man. The boy grew to understand that from that sweetmother, even though the world called her an immoral woman, he hadinherited something much more valuable to himself than the Imperialcrown--the faculty of perception and balance, physical and moral, towhich the family of the Emperor, his father, could lay no claim. Fromthem, both he and his sister had inherited a stubborn, indomitablepride. You can see it, and have already remarked it, in Zara--thatsister's child. 

"So when the boy grew to be about twenty, he determined to carve out acareer for himself, to create a great fortune, and so make his ownlittle kingdom, which should not be bound by any country or race. He hadan English tutor--he had always had one--and in his studies ofcountries and peoples and their attributes, the English seemed to him tobe much the finest race. They were saner, more understanding, more fullof the sense of the fitness of things, and of the knowledge of life andhow to live it wisely. 

"So the boy, with no country, and no ingrained patriotism for the placeof his birth, determined he, being free and of no nation, should, whenhe had made this fortune, migrate there, and endeavor to obtain a placeamong those proud people, whom he so admired in his heart. That was hisgoal, in all his years of hard work, during which time he grew tounderstand the value of individual character, regardless of nation or ofcreed; and so, when finally he did come to this country, it was not toseek, but to command. " And here Francis Markrute, master of vast wealthand the destinies of almost as many human souls as his father, theEmperor, had been, raised his head. And Lady Ethelrida, daughter of ahundred noble lords, knew her father, the Duke, was no prouder than he, the Spanish dancer's son. And something in her fine spirit went out tohim; and she, there in the firelight with the soft owl lamp silveringher hair, stretched out her hand to him; and he held it and kissed ittenderly, as he took his seat by her side. 

"My sweet and holy one, " he said. "And so you understand!"

"Yes, yes!" said Ethelrida. "Oh, please go on"--and she leaned backagainst her pillow, but she did not seek to draw away her hand. 

"There came a great grief, then, in the life of the boy who was now agrown man. His sister brought disgrace upon herself, and died underextremely distressful circumstances, into which I need not enter here;and for a while these things darkened and embittered his life. " Hepaused a moment, and gazed into the fire, a look of deep sorrow andregret on his sharply-cut face, and Ethelrida unconsciously allowed herslim fingers to tighten in his grasp. And when he felt this gentlesympathy, he stroked her hand. 

"The man was very hard then, sweet lady, " he went on. "He regrets itnow, deeply. The pure angel, who at this day rules his life, with hersoft eyes of divine mercy and gentleness, has taught him many lessons;and it will be his everlasting regret that he was hard then. But it wasa great deep wound to his pride, that quality which he had inheritedfrom his father, and had not then completely checked and got in hand. Pride should be a factor for noble actions and a great spirit, but notfor overbearance toward the failings of others. He knows that now. Ifthis lady, whom he worships, should ever wish to learn the whole detailsof this time, he will tell her even at any cost to his pride, but forthe moment let me get on to pleasanter things. "

And Ethelrida whispered, "Yes, yes, " so he continued:

"All his life from a boy's to a man's, this person we are speaking ofhad kept his ideal of the woman he should love. She must be fine andshapely, and noble and free; she must be tender and devoted, andgracious and good. But he passed all his early manhood and grew tomiddle age, before he even saw her shadow across his path. He looked upone night, eighteen months ago, at a court ball, and she passed him onthe arm of a royal duke, and unconsciously brushed his coat with hersoft dove's wing; and he knew that it was she, after all those years, sohe waited and planned, and met her once or twice; but fate did not lethim advance very far, and so a scheme entered his head. His niece, thedaughter of his dead sister, had also had a very unhappy life; and hethought she, too, should come among these English people, and findhappiness with their level ways. She was beautiful and proud and good, so he planned the marriage between his niece and the cousin of the ladyhe worshiped, knowing by that he should be drawn nearer his star, andalso pay the debt to his dead sister, by securing the happiness of herchild; but primarily it was his desire to be nearer his own worshipedstar, and thus it has all come about. " He paused, and looked full at herface, and saw that her sweet eyes were moist with some tender, happytears. So he leaned forward, took her other hand, and kissed them both, placing the soft palms against his mouth for a second; then he whisperedhoarsely, his voice at last trembling with the passionate emotion hefelt:

"Ethelrida--darling--I love you with my soul--tell me, my sweet lady, will you be my wife?"

And the Lady Ethelrida did not answer, but allowed herself to be drawninto his arms. 

And so in the firelight, with the watchful gray owl, the two restedblissfully content. 

CHAPTER XXXI

When Lady Ethelrida came down to tea, her sweet face was prettilyflushed, for she was quite unused to caresses and the kisses of a man. Her soft gray eyes were shining with a happiness of which she had notdreamed, and above all things, she was filled with the exquisite emotionof having a secret!--a secret of which even her dear friend Anne wasignorant--a blessed secret, just shared between her lover and herself. And Lady Anningford, who had no idea that she had spent the afternoonwith the financier, but believed she had religiously written lettersalone, wondered to herself what on earth made Ethelrida look so joyousand not the least fatigued, as most of the others were. She really gotprettier, she thought, as she grew older, and was always the greatestdear in the whole world. But, to look as happy as that and have a faceso flushed, was quite mysterious and required the opinion of the Crow!

So she dragged Colonel Lowerby off to a sofa, and began at once:

"Crow, do look at Ethelrida's face! Did you ever see one so idioticallyblissful, except when she has been kissed by the person she loves?"

"Well, how do you know that is not the case with our dear Ethelrida?"grunted the Crow. "She did not come out for a walk. You had better countup, and see who else stayed at home!"

So Lady Anningford began laughingly. The idea was too impossible, butshe must reason it out. 

"There was Lord Melton but Lady Melton stayed behind, too, and theThornbys--all impossible. There was no one else except Tristram, who Iknow was in the smoking-room, with a fearful headache, and Mr. Markrute, who was with the Duke. "

"Was he with the Duke?" queried the Crow. 

"Crow!" almost gasped Lady Anningford. "Do you mean to tell me that youthink Ethelrida would have her face looking like that about a foreigner!My dear friend, you must have taken leave of your seven senses--" andthen she paused, for several trifles came back to her recollection, connected with these two, which, now that the Crow had implanted asuspicion in her breast, began to assume considerable proportions. 

Ethelrida had talked of most irrelevant matters always during theirgood-night chats, unless the subject happened to be Zara, and she hadnever once mentioned Mr. Markrute personally or given any opinion abouthim; and yet, as Anne had seen, they had often talked. There must besomething in it, but that was not enough to account for Ethelrida'sface. A pale, rather purely colorless complexion like hers did notsuddenly change to bright scarlet cheeks, without some practical means!And, as Anne very well knew, kisses were a very practical means! But herfriend Ethelrida would never allow any man to kiss her, unless she hadpromised to marry him. Now, if it had been Lily Opie, she could not havebeen so sure, though she hoped she could be sure of any nice girl; butabout Ethelrida she could take her oath. It followed, as Ethelrida hadbeen quite pale at lunch and was not a person who went to sleep overfires, something extraordinary must have happened--but what?

"Crow, dear, I have never been so thrilled in my life, " she said, afterher thoughts had come to this stage. "The lurid tragedy of the honeymoonpair cannot compare in interest to anything connected with my sweetEthelrida, for me, so it is your duty to put that horribly wise, cynicalbrain of yours to work and unravel me this mystery. Look, here is Mr. Markrute coming in--let us watch his face!"

But, although they subjected the financier to the keenest good-naturedscrutiny, he did not show a sign or give them any clue. He sat downquietly, and began talking casually to the group by the tea-table, whilehe methodically spread his bread and butter with blackberry jam. Suchdelicious schoolroom teas the company indulged in, at the hospitabletea-table of Montfitchet! He did not seem to be even addressingEthelrida. What could it be?

"I believe we have made a mistake after all, Crow, " Lady Anningford saiddisappointedly. "Look--he is quite unmoved. "

The Crow gave one of his chuckles, while he answered slowly, between hissips of tea:

"A man doesn't handle millions in the year, and twist and turn abouthalf the governments of Europe, if he can't keep his face from showingwhat he doesn't mean you to see! Bless your dear heart, Mr. FrancisMarkrute is no infant!" and the chuckle went on. 

"You may think yourself very wise, Crow, and so you are, " LadyAnningford retorted severely, "but you don't know anything about love. When a man is in love, even if he were Machiavelli himself, it would bebound to show in his eye--if one looked long enough. "

"Then your plan, my dear Queen Anne, is to look, " the Crow said, smiling. "For my part, I want to see how the other pair have got on. They are my pets; and I don't consider they have spent at all a suitablehoneymoon Sunday afternoon--Tristram, with a headache in thesmoking-room, and the bride, taking a walk and being made love to byArthur Elterton, and Young Billy, alternately. The kid is as wild abouther as Tristram himself, I believe!"

"Then you still think Tristram is in love with her, do you, Crow?" askedAnne, once more interested in her original thrill. "He did not show thesmallest signs of it last night then, if so; and how he did not seizeher in his arms and devour her there and then, with all that lovely hairdown and her exquisite shape showing the outline so in that dress--Ican't think! He must be as cold as a stone, and I never thought him sobefore, did you?"

"No, and he isn't either, I tell you what, my dear girl, there issomething pretty grim keeping those two apart, I am sure. She is thekind of woman who arouses the fiercest passions; and Tristram is in thestate that, if something were really to set alight his jealousy, hemight kill her some day. "

"Crow--how terrible!" gasped Anne, and then seeing that her friend'sface was serious, and not chaffing, she, too, looked grave. "Then whaton earth is to be done?" she asked. 

"I don't know, I have been thinking it over ever since I came in. Ifound him in the smoking-room, staring in front of him, not evenpretending to read, and looking pretty white about the gills; and whenhe saw it was only me, and I asked him if his head were worse, andwhether he had not better have a brandy and soda, he simply said: 'No, thanks, the whole thing is a d---- rotten show. ' I've known him since hewas a blessed baby you know, so he didn't mind me for a minute. Then herecollected himself, and said, yes, he would have a drink; and when hepoured it out, he only sipped it, and then forgot about it, jumped up, and blurted out he had some letters to write, so I left him. I amawfully sorry for the poor chap, I can tell you. If it is not fate, butsome caprice of hers, she deserves a jolly good beating, for making himsuffer like that. "

"Couldn't you say something to her, Crow, dear? We are all so awfullyfond of Tristram, and there does seem some tragedy hanging over themthat ought to be stopped at once. Couldn't you, Crow?"

But Colonel Lowerby shook his head. 

"It is too confoundedly ticklish, " he grunted. "It might do some good, and it might just do the other thing. It is too dangerous to interfere. "

"Well, you have made me thoroughly uncomfortable, " Lady Anningford said. "I shall get hold of him to-night, and see what I can do. "

"Then, mind you are careful, Queen Anne--that is all that I can say, "and at that moment, the Duke joining them, the tête-à-tête broke up. 

Zara had not appeared at tea. She said she was very tired, and wouldrest until dinner. If she had been there, her uncle had meant to takeher aside into one of the smaller sitting-rooms, and tell her the pieceof information he deemed it now advisable for her to know; but as shedid not appear, or Tristram, either, he thought after all they might betogether, and his interference would be unnecessary. But he decided, ifhe saw the same frigid state of things at dinner, he would certainlyspeak to her after it; and relieved from duty, he went once more tofind his lady love in her sitting-room. 

"Francis!" she whispered, as he held her next his heart for a moment. "You must not stay ten minutes, for Lady Anningford or Lady Melton issure to come in--Anne, especially, who has been looking at me with suchreproachful eyes, for having neglected her all this, our lastafternoon. "

"I care not for a thousand Annes, Ethelrida mine!" he said softly, as hekissed her. "If she does come, will it matter? Would you rather she didnot guess anything yet, my dearest?"

"Yes--" said Ethelrida, "--I don't want any one to know, until you havetold my father, --will you do so to-night--or wait until to-morrow? I--Ican't--I feel so shy--and he will be so surprised. " She did not add hersecret fear that her parent might be very angry. 

They had sat down upon the sofa now, under the light of their kindlygray owl; and Francis Markrute contented himself with caressing hislady's hair, as he answered:

"I thought of asking the Duke, if I might stay until the afternoontrain, as I had something important to discuss with him, and then waitand see him quietly, when all the others have gone, if that is what youwould wish, my sweet. I will do exactly as you desire about all things. I want you to understand that. You are to have your own way ineverything in life. "

"You know very well that I should never want it, if it differed fromyours, Francis. " What music he found in his name! "You are so very wise, it will be divine to let you guide me!" Which tender speech showed thatthe gentle Ethelrida had none of the attitude of the modern bride. 

And thus it was arranged. The middle-aged, but boyishly-in-love, fiancéwas to tackle his future father-in-law in the morning's light; andto-night, let the household sleep in peace!

So, after a blissful interlude, as he saw in spite of the joy they foundtogether, his Ethelrida was still slightly nervous of Lady Anningford'sentrance, he got up to say good night, as alas! this would probably bethe last chance they would have alone before he left. 

"And you will not make me wait too long, my darling, " he implored, "willyou? You see, every moment away from you, will now be wasted. I do notknow how I have borne all these years alone!"

And she promised everything he wished, for Francis Markrute, atforty-six, had far more allurements than an impetuous young lover. Not atenderness, a subtlety of flattery and homage, those things so dear to awoman's heart, were forgotten by him. He really worshiped Ethelrida andhis fashion of showing his feeling was in all ways to think first ofwhat she would wish; which proved that if her attitude were unmodern, asfar as women were concerned, his was even more so, among men!

Tristram had gone out for another walk alone, after the Crow had lefthim. He wanted to realize the details of the coming week, and settlewith himself how best to get through with them. 

He and Zara were to start in their own motor at about eleven for Wrayth, which was only forty miles across the border into Suffolk. They wouldreach it inside of two hours easily, and arrive at the first triumphalarch of the park before one; and so go on through the shoutingvillagers to the house, where in the great banqueting hall, which stillremained, a relic of Henry IV's time, joined on to the Norman keep, theywould have to assist at a great luncheon to the principal tenants, whilethe lesser fry feasted in a huge tent in the outer courtyard. 

Here, endless speeches would have to be made and listened to, and joysimulated, and a general air of hilarity kept up; and the oldhousekeeper would have prepared the large rooms in the Adam wing fortheir reception; and they would not be free to separate, until late atnight, for there would be the servants' and employés' ball, after atête-à-tête dinner in state, where their every action would be watchedand commented upon by many curious eyes. Yes, it was a terrible ordealto go through, under the circumstances; and no wonder he wanted thecold, frosty evening air to brace him up!

At the end of his troubled thoughts he had come to the conclusion thatthere was only one thing to be done--he must speak to her to-night, tellher what to expect, and ask her to play her part. "She is fortunatelygame, even if cold as stone, " he said to himself, "and if I appeal toher pride, she will help me out. " So he came back into the house, andwent straight up to her room. He had been through too much suffering andanguish of heart, all night and all day, to be fearful of temptation. Hefelt numb, as he knocked at the door and an indifferent voice calledout, "Come in!"

He opened it a few inches and said: "It is I--Tristram--I have somethingI must say to you--May I come in?--or would you prefer to come down toone of the sitting-rooms? I dare say we could find one empty, so as tobe alone. "

"Please come in, " her voice said, and she was conscious that she wastrembling from head to foot. 

So he obeyed her, shutting the door firmly after him and advancing tothe fireplace. She had been lying upon the sofa wrapped in a soft bluetea-gown, and her hair hung in the two long plaits, which she alwaysunwound when she could to take its weight from her head. She rose fromher reclining position and sat in the corner; and after glancing at herfor a second, Tristram turned his eyes away, and leaning on themantelpiece, began in a cold grave voice:

"I have to ask you to do me a favor. It is to help me through to-morrowand the few days after, as best you can, by conforming to our ways. Ithas been always the custom in the family, when a Tancred brought homehis bride, to have all sorts of silly rejoicings. There will betriumphal arches in the park, and collections of village people, a lunchfor the principal tenants, speeches, and all sorts of boring things. Then we shall have to dine alone in the state dining-room, with all theservants watching us, and go to the household and tenants' ball in thegreat hall. It will all be ghastly, as you can see. " He paused a moment, but he did not change the set tone in his voice when he spoke again, nordid he look at her. He had now come to the hardest part of his task. 

"All these people--who are my people, " he went on, "think a great dealof these things, and of us--that is--myself, as their landlord, and youas my wife. We have always been friends, the country folk at Wrayth andmy family, and they adored my mother. They are looking forward to ourcoming back and opening the house again--and--and--all that--and--" herehe paused a second time, it seemed as if his throat were dry, forsuddenly the remembrance of his dreams as he looked at TristramGuiscard's armor, which he had worn at Agincourt, came back to him--hisdreams in his old oak-paneled room--of their home-coming to Wrayth; andthe mockery of the reality hit him in the face. 

Zara clasped her hands, and if he had glanced at her again, he wouldhave seen all the love and anguish which was convulsing her shining inher sad eyes. 

He mastered the emotion which had hoarsened his voice, and went on in aneven tone: "What I have to ask is that you will do your share--wear somebeautiful clothes, and smile, and look as if you cared; and if I feelthat it will be necessary to take your hand or even kiss you, do notfrown at me, or think I am doing it from choice--I ask you, because Ibelieve you are as proud as I am, --I ask you, please, to play the game. "

And now he looked up at her, but the terrible emotion she was sufferinghad made her droop her head. He would not kiss her or take herhand--from choice--that was the main thing her woman's heart hadgrasped, the main thing, which cut her like a knife. 

"You can count upon me, " she said, so low he could hardly hear her; andthen she raised her head proudly, and looked straight in front of her, but not at him, while she repeated more firmly: "I will do in every waywhat you wish--what your mother would have done. I am no weakling, youknow, and as you said, I am as proud as yourself. "

He dared not look at her, now the bargain was made, so he took a steptowards the door, and then turned and said:

"I thank you--I shall be grateful to you. Whatever may occur, pleasebelieve that nothing that may look as if it was my wish to throw ustogether, as though we were really husband and wife, will be my fault;and you can count upon my making the thing as easy for you as I can--andwhen the mockery of the rejoicings are over--then we can discuss ourfuture plans. "

And though Zara was longing to cry aloud in passionate pain, "I loveyou! I love you! Come back and beat me, if you will, only do not gocoldly like that!" she spoke never a word. The strange iron habit of herlife held her, and he went sadly from the room. 

And when he had gone, she could control herself no longer and, forgetfulof coming maid and approaching dinner, she groveled on the whitebearskin rug before the fire, and gave way to passionate tears--only torecollect in a moment the position of things. Then she got up and shookwith passion against fate, and civilization, and custom--against thewhole of life. She could not even cry in peace. No! She must play thegame! So her eyes had to be bathed, the window opened, and the icy airbreathed in, and at last she had quieted herself down to the look of aperson with a headache, when the dressing-gong sounded, and her maidcame into the room. 

CHAPTER XXXII

This, the last dinner at Montfitchet, passed more quietly than the rest. The company were perhaps subdued, from their revels of the night before;and every one hates the thought of breaking up a delightful party andseparating on the morrow, even when it has only been a merry gatheringlike this. 

And two people were divinely happy, and two people supremely sad, andone mean little heart was full of bitterness and malice unassuaged. Soafter dinner was over, and they were all once more in the whitedrawing-room, the different elements assorted themselves. 

Lady Anningford took Tristram aside and began, with great tact and muchfeeling, to see if he could be cajoled into a better mood; and finallygot severely snubbed for her trouble, which hurt her more because sherealized how deep must be his pain than from any offense to herself. Then Laura caught him and implanted her last sting:

"You are going away to-morrow, Tristram, --into your new life--and whenyou have found out all about your wife--and her handsome friend--you mayremember that there was one woman who loved you truly--" and then shemoved on and left him sitting there, too raging to move. 

After this, his uncle had joined him, had talked politics, and just atthe end, for the hearty old gentleman could not believe a man couldreally be cold or indifferent to as beautiful a piece of flesh and bloodas his new niece, he had said:

"Tristram, my dear boy, --I don't know whether it is the modernspirit--or not--but, if I were you, I'd be hanged if I would let thatdivine creature, your wife, out of my sight day or night!--When you gether alone at Wrayth, just kiss her until she can't breathe--and you'llfind it is all right!"

With which absolutely sensible advice, he had slapped his nephew on theback, fixed in his eyeglass, and walked off; and Tristram had stoodthere, his blue eyes hollow with pain, and had laughed a bitter laugh, and gone to play bridge, which he loathed, with the Meltons and Mrs. Harcourt. So for him, the evening had passed. 

And Francis Markrute had taken his niece aside to give her his bit ofsalutary information. He wished to get it over as quickly as possible, and had drawn her to a sofa rather behind a screen, where they were nottoo much observed. 

"We have all had a most delightful visit, I am sure, Zara, " he had said, "but you and Tristram seem not to be yet as good friends as I couldwish. "

He paused a moment, but as usual she did not speak, so he went on:

"There is one thing you might as well know, I believe you have notrealized it yet, unless Tristram has told you of it himself. "

She looked up now, startled--of what was she ignorant then?

"You may remember the afternoon I made the bargain with you about themarriage, " Francis Markrute went on. "Well, that afternoon Tristram, your husband, had refused my offer of you and your fortune with scorn. He would never wed a rich woman he said, or a woman he did not know orlove, for any material gain; but I knew he would think differently whenhe had seen how beautiful and attractive you were, so I continued tomake my plans. You know my methods, my dear niece. "

Zara's blazing and yet pitiful eyes were all his answer. 

"Well, I calculated rightly. He came to dinner that night, and fellmadly in love with you, and at once asked to marry you himself, while heinsisted upon your fortune being tied up entirely upon you, and anychildren that you might have, only allowing me to pay off the mortgageson Wrayth for himself. It would be impossible for a man to have behavedmore like a gentleman. I thought now, in case you had not grasped allthis, you had better know. " And then he said anxiously, "Zara--my dearchild--what is the matter?" for her proud head had fallen forward on herbreast, with a sudden deadly faintness. This, indeed, was the filling ofher cup. 

His voice pulled her together, and she sat up; and to the end of hislife, Francis Markrute will never like to remember the look in her eyes. 

"And you let me go on and marry him, playing this cheat? You let me goon and spoil both our lives! What had I ever done to you, my uncle, thatyou should be so cruel to me? Or is it to be revenged upon my mother forthe hurt she brought to your pride?"

If she had reproached him, stormed at him, anything, he could have borneit better; but the utter lifeless calm of her voice, the hopeless lookin her beautiful white face, touched his heart--that heart but newlyunwrapped and humanized from its mummifying encasements by theomnipotent God of Love. Had he, after all, been too coldly calculatingabout this human creature of his own flesh and blood? Was there someinsurmountable barrier grown up from his action? For the first moment inhis life he was filled with doubt and fear. 

"Zara, " he said, anxiously, "tell me, dear child, what you mean? I letyou go on in the 'cheat, ' as you call it, because I knew you never wouldconsent to the bargain, unless you thought it was equal on both sides. Iknow your sense of honor, dear, but I calculated, and I thought rightly, that, Tristram being so in love with you, he would soon undeceive you, directly you were alone. I never believed a woman could be so cold as toresist his wonderful charm--Zara--what has happened?--'Won't you tellme, child?"

But she sat there turned to stone. She had no thought to reproach him. Her heart and her spirit seemed broken, that was all. 

"Zara--would you like me to do anything? Can I explain anything to him?Can I help you to be happy? I assure you it hurts me awfully, if thiswill not turn out all right--Zara, " for she had risen a littleunsteadily from her seat beside him. "You cannot be indifferent to himfor ever--he is too splendid a man. Cannot I do anything for you, myniece?"

Then she looked at him, and her eyes in their deep tragedy seemed toburn out of her deadly white face. 

"No, thank you, my uncle, --there is nothing to be done--everything isnow too late. " Then she added in the same monotonous voice, "I am verytired, I think I will wish you a good night. " And with immense dignity, she left him; and making her excuses with gentle grace to the Duke andLady Ethelrida, she glided from the room. 

And Francis Markrute, as he watched her, felt his whole being wrung withemotion and pain. 

"My God!" he said to himself. "She is a glorious woman, and it will--itmust--come right--even yet. "

And then he set his brain to calculate how he could assist them, andfinally his reasoning powers came back to him, and he comforted himselfwith the deductions he made. 

She was going away alone with this most desirable young man into theromantic environment of Wrayth. Human physical passion, to say the leastof it, was too strong to keep them apart for ever, so he could safelyleave the adjusting of this puzzle to the discretion of fate. 

And Zara, freed at last from eye of friend or maid, collapsed on to thewhite bearskin in front of the fire again, and tried to think. So shehad been offered as a chattel and been refused! Here her spirit burntwith humiliation. Her uncle, she knew, always had used her merely as apawn in some game--what game? He was not a snob; the position of uncleto Tristram would not have tempted him alone; he never did anythingwithout a motive and a deep one. Could it be that he himself was in lovewith Lady Ethelrida? She had been too preoccupied with her own affairsto be struck with those of others, but now as she looked back, he hadshown an interest which was not in his general attitude towards women. How her mother had loved him, this wonderful brother! It was her abidinggrief always, his unforgiveness, --and perhaps, although it seemedimpossible to her, Lady Ethelrida was attracted by him, too. Yes, thatmust be it. It was to be connected with the family, to make his positionstronger in the Duke's eyes, that he had done this cruel thing. But, would it have been cruel if she herself had been human and different? Hehad called her from struggling and poverty, had given her this splendidyoung husband, and riches and place, --no, there was nothing cruel in it, as a calculated action. It should have given her her heart's desire. Itwas she, herself, who had brought about things as they were, because ofher ignorance, that was the cruelty, to have let her go away withTristram, in ignorance. 

Then the aspect of the case that she had been offered to him andrefused! scourged her again; then the remembrance that he had taken her, for love. And what motive could he imagine she had had? This struck herfor the first time--how infinitely more generous he had been--for he hadnot allowed, what he must have thought was pure mercenariness and desirefor position on her part to interfere with his desire for herpersonally. He had never turned upon her, as she saw now he very wellcould have done, and thrown this in her teeth. And then she fell tobitter sobbing, and so at last to sleep. 

And when the fire had died out, towards the gray dawn, she woke againshivering and in mortal fright, for she had dreamed of Mirko, and thathe was being torn from her, while he played the _Chanson Triste_. Thenshe grew fully awake and remembered that this was the beginning of thenew day--the day she should go to her husband's home; and she hadaccused him of all the base things a man could do, and he had behavedlike a gentleman; and it was she who was base, and had sold herself forher brother's life, sold what should never be bartered for any life, but only for love. 

Well, there was nothing to be done, only to "play the game"--thehackneyed phrase came back to her; he had used it, so it was sacred. Yes, all she could do for him now was, to "play the game"--everythingelse was--too late. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

People left by all sorts of trains and motors in the morning; but therewere still one or two remaining, when the bride and bridegroom madetheir departure, in their beautiful new car with its smart servants, which had come to fetch them, and take them to Wrayth. 

And, just as the Dover young ladies on the pier had admired theirembarkation, with its _apanages_ of position and its romantic look, soevery one who saw them leave Montfitchet was alike elated. They werecertainly an ideal pair. 

Zara had taken the greatest pains to dress herself in her best. Sheremembered Tristram had admired her the first evening they had arrivedfor this visit, when she had worn sapphire blue, so now she put on thesame colored velvet and the sable coat--yes, he liked that best, too, and she clasped some of his sapphire jewels in her ears and at herthroat. No bride ever looked more beautiful or distinguished, with hergardenia complexion and red burnished hair, all set off by the velvetand dark fur. 

But Tristram, after the first glance, when she came down, never lookedat her--he dared not. So they said their farewells quietly; but therewas an extra warmth and tenderness in Ethelrida's kiss, as, indeed, there was every reason that there should be. If Zara had known! But thehappy secret was still locked in the lovers' breasts. 

"Of course it must come all right, they look so beautiful!" Ethelridaexclaimed unconsciously, waving her last wave on the steps, as the motorglided away. 

"Yes, it must indeed, " whispered Francis, who was beside her, and sheturned and looked into his face. 

"In twenty minutes, all the rest will be gone except the Crow, andEmily, and Mary, and Lady Anningford, who are staying on; and oh, Francis, how shall I get through the morning, knowing you are withPapa!"

"I will come to your sitting-room just before luncheon time, mydearest, " he whispered back reassuringly. "Do not distress yourself--itwill be all right. "

And so they all went back into the house, and Lady Anningford, who nowbegan to have grave suspicions, whispered to the Crow:

"I believe you are perfectly right, Crow. I am certain Ethelrida is inlove with Mr. Markrute! But surely the Duke would never permit such athing! A foreigner whom nobody knows anything of!"

"I never heard that there was any objection raised to Tristram marryinghis niece. The Duke seemed to welcome it, and some foreigners are verygood chaps, " the Crow answered sententiously, "especially Austrians andRussians; and he must be one of something of that sort. He has noapparent touch of the Latin race. It's Latins I don't like. "

"Well, I shall probably hear all about it from Ethelrida herself, nowthat we are alone. I am so glad I decided to stay with the dear girluntil Wednesday, and you will have to wait till then, too, Crow. "

"As ever, I am at your orders, " he grunted, and lighting a cigar, hesubsided into a great chair to read the papers, while Lady Anningfordwent on to the saloon. And presently, when all the departing guestswere gone, Ethelrida linked her arm in that of her dear friend, and drewher with her up to her sitting-room. 

"I have heaps to tell you, Anne!" she said, while she pushed her gentlyinto a big low chair, and herself sank into the corner of her sofa. Ethelrida was not a person who curled up among pillows, or sat on rugs, or little stools. All her movements, even in her most intimate momentsof affection with her friend, were dignified and reserved. 

"Darling, I am thrilled, " Lady Anningford responded, "and I guess it isall about Mr. Markrute--and oh, Ethelrida, when did it begin?"

"He has been thinking of me for a long time, Anne--quite eighteenmonths--but I--" she looked down, while a tender light grew in her face, "I only began to be interested the night we dined with him--it is alittle more than a fortnight ago--the dinner for Tristram's engagement. He said a number of things not like any one else, then, and he made methink of him afterwards--and I saw him again at the wedding--and sincehe has been here--and do you know, Anne, I have never loved any onebefore in my life!"

"Ethelrida, you darling, I know you haven't!" and Anne bounded up andgave her a hug. "And I knew you were perfectly happy, and had had ablissful afternoon when you came down to tea yesterday. Your whole facewas changed, you pet!"

"Did I look so like a fool, Anne?" Ethelrida cried. 

Then Lady Anningford laughed happily, as she answered with a roguisheye, "It was not exactly that, darling, but your dear cheeks were scarlet, as though they had been exquisitely kissed!"

"Oh!" gasped Ethelrida, flaming pink, as she laughed and covered herface with her hands. 

"Perhaps he knows how to make love nicely--I am no judge of suchthings--in any case, he makes me thrill. Anne, tell me, is that--thatcurious sensation as though one were rather limp and yet quivering--isthat just how every one feels when they are in love?"

"Ethelrida, you sweet thing!" gurgled Anne. 

Then Ethelrida told her friend about the present of books, and showedthem to her, and of all the subtlety of his ways, and how they appealedto her. 

"And oh, Anne, he makes me perfectly happy and sure of everything; and Ifeel that I need never decide anything for myself again in my life!"

Which, taking it all round, was a rather suitable and fortunateconviction for a man to have implanted in his lady love's breast, andheld out the prospect of much happiness in their future existencetogether. 

"I think he is very nice looking, " said Anne, "and he has the mostperfect clothes. I do like a man to have that groomed look, which I mustsay most Englishmen have, but Tristram has it, especially, and Mr. Markrute, too. If you knew the despair my old man is to me with hisindifference about his appearance. It is my only crumpled rose leaf, with the dear old thing. "

"Yes, " agreed Ethelrida, "I like them to be smart--and above all, theymust have thick hair. Anne, have you noticed Francis' hair? It is sonice, it grows on his forehead just as Zara's does. If he had been baldlike Papa, I could not have fallen in love with him!"

So once more the fate of a man was decided by his hair!

And during this exchange of confidences, while Emily and Mary took abrisk walk with the Crow and young Billy, Francis Markrute faced hislady's ducal father in the library. 

He had begun without any preamble, and with perfect calm; and the Duke, who was above all a courteous gentleman, had listened, first with silentconsternation and resentment, and then with growing interest. 

Francis Markrute had manipulated infinitely more difficult situations, when the balance of some of the powers of Europe depended upon hisnerve; but he knew, as he talked to this gallant old Englishman, that hehad never had so much at stake, and it stimulated him to do his best. 

He briefly stated his history, which Ethelrida already knew; he made noapology for his bar sinister; indeed, he felt none was needed. He knew, and the Duke knew, that when a man has won out as he had done, suchthings fade into space. And then with wonderful taste and discretion hehad but just alluded to his vast wealth, and that it would be soperfectly administered through Lady Ethelrida's hands, for the good ofher order and of mankind. 

And the Duke, accustomed to debate and the watching of methods in men, could not help admiring the masterly reserve and force of this man. 

And, finally, when the financier had finished speaking, the Duke roseand stood before the fire, while he fixed his eyeglass in his eye. 

"You have stated the case admirably, my dear Markrute, " he said, in hisdistinguished old voice. "You leave me without argument and with merelymy prejudices, which I dare say are unjust, but I confess they arestrongly in favor of my own countrymen and strongly against thisunion--though, on the other hand, my daughter and her happiness are myfirst consideration in this world. Ethelrida was twenty-six yesterday, and she is a young woman of strong and steady character, unlikely to beinfluenced by any foolish emotion. Therefore, if you have been fortunateenough to find favor in her eyes--if the girl loves you, in short, mydear fellow, then I have nothing to say. --Let us ring and have a glassof port!"

And presently the two men, now with the warmest friendship in theirhearts for one another, mounted the staircase to Lady Ethelrida's room, and there found her still talking to Anne. 

Her sweet eyes widened with a question as the two appeared at the door, and then she rushed into her father's arms and buried her face in hiscoat; and with his eyeglass very moist, the old Duke kissed herfondly--as he muttered. 

"Why, Ethelrida, my little one. This is news! If you are happy, darling, that is all I want!"

So the whole dreaded moment passed off with rejoicing, and presentlyLady Anningford and the fond father made their exit, and left the loversalone. 

"Oh, Francis, isn't the world lovely!" murmured Ethelrida from theshelter of his arms. "Papa and I have always been so happy together, andnow we shall be three, because you understand him, too, and you won'tmake me stay away from him for very long times, will you, dear?"

"Never, my sweet. I thought of asking the Duke, if you would wish it, tolet me take the place from him in this county, which eventually comes toyou, and I will keep on Thorpmoor, my house in Lincolnshire, merely forthe shooting. Then you would feel you were always in your own home, andperhaps the Duke would spend much time with us, and we could come to himhere, in an hour; but all this is merely a suggestion--everything shallbe as you wish. "

"Francis, you are good to me, " she said. 

"Darling, " he whispered, as he kissed her hair, "it took me forty-sixyears to find my pearl of price. "

Then they settled all kinds of other details: how he would give Zara, for her own, the house in Park Lane, which would not be big enough nowfor them; and he would purchase one of those historic mansions, lookingon The Green Park, which he knew was soon to be in the market. Ethelrida, if she left the ducal roof for the sake of his love, shouldfind a palace worthy of her acceptance waiting for her. 

He had completely recovered his balance, upset a little the night beforeby the uncomfortable momentary fear about his niece. 

She and Tristram had arranged to come up to Park Lane for two nightsagain at the end of the week, to say good-bye to the Dowager LadyTancred, who was starting with her daughters for Cannes. If he shouldsee then that things were still amiss, he would tell Tristram the wholehistory of what Zara had thought of him. Perhaps that might throw somelight on her conduct towards him, and so things could be cleared up. Buthe pinned his whole faith on youth and propinquity to arrange mattersbefore then, and dismissed it from his mind. 

Meanwhile, the pair in question were speeding along to Wrayth. 

Of all the ordeals of the hours which Tristram had had to endure sincehis wedding, these occasions, upon which he had to sit close beside herin a motor, were the worst. An ordinary young man, not in love with her, would have found something intoxicating in her atmosphere--and how muchmore this poor Tristram, who was passionately obsessed. 

Fortunately, she liked plenty of window open and did not object tosmoke; but with the new air of meekness which was on her face and theadorably attractive personal scent of the creature, nearly two hourswith her, under a sable rug, was no laughing matter. 

At the end of the first half hour of silence and nearness, her husbandfound he was obliged to concentrate his mind by counting sheep jumpingover imaginary stiles to prevent himself from clasping her in his arms. 

It was the same old story, which has been chronicled over and overagain. Two young, human, natural, normal people fighting against ironbars. For Zara felt the same as he, and she had the extra anguish ofknowing she had been unjust, and that the present impossible situationwas entirely her own doing. 

And how to approach the subject and confess her fault? She did not know. Her sense of honor made her feel she must, but the queer silent habit ofher life was still holding her enchained. And so, until they got intohis own country, the strained speechlessness continued, and then helooked out and said:

"We must have the car opened now--please smile and bow as we go throughthe villages when any of the old people curtsey to you; the young oneswon't do it, I expect, but my mother's old friends may. "

So Zara leaned forward, when the footman had opened the landaulette top, and tried to look radiant. 

And the first act of this pitiful comedy began. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

Every sort of emotion convulsed the new Lady Tancred's heart, as theybegan to get near the park, with the village nestling close to its gateson the far side. So this was the home of her love and her lord; and theyought to be holding hands, and approaching it and the thought of theirfond life together there with full hearts, --well, her heart was fullenough, but only of anguish and pain. For Tristram, afraid of thesmallest unbending, maintained a freezing attitude of contemptuousdisdain, which she could not yet pluck up enough courage to breakthrough to tell him she knew how unjust and unkind she had been. 

And presently they came through cheering yokels to the South Lodge, thefurthest away from the village, and so under a triumphant arch ofevergreens, with banners floating and mottoes of "God Bless the Brideand Bridegroom" and "Health and Long Life to Lord and Lady Tancred. " Andnow Tristram did take her hand and, indeed, put his arm round her asthey both stood up for a moment in the car, while raising his hat andwaving it gayly he answered graciously:

"My friends, Lady Tancred and I thank you so heartily for your kindwishes and welcome home. "

Then they sat down, and the car went on, and his face became rigidagain, as he let go her hand. 

And at the next arch by the bridge, the same thing, only moreelaborately carried out, began again, for here were all the farmers ofthe hunt, of which Tristram was a great supporter, on horseback; and thecheering and waving knew no end. The cavalcade of mounted men followedthem round outside the Norman tower and to the great gates in thesmaller one, where the portcullis had been. 

Here all the village children were, and the old women from thealmshouse, in their scarlet frieze cloaks and charming black bonnets;and every sort of wish for their happiness was shouted out. "Bless thebeautiful bride and bring her many little lords and ladies, too, " oneold body quavered shrilly, above the din, and this pleasantry wasgreeted with shouts of delight. And for that second Tristram dropped hislady's hand as though it had burnt him, and then, recollecting himself, picked it up again. They were both pale with excitement and emotion, when they finally reached the hall-door in the ugly, modern Gothic wingand were again greeted by all the household servants in rows, two ofthem old and gray-haired, who had stayed on to care for things when thehouse had been shut up. There was Michelham back at his master's oldhome, only promoted to be groom of the chambers, now, with a smartyounger butler under him. 

Tristram was a magnificent orderer, and knew exactly how things ought tobe done. 

And the stately housekeeper, in her black silk, stepped forward, and inthe name of herself and her subordinates, bade the new mistress welcome, and hoping she was not fatigued, presented her with a bouquet of whiteroses. "Because his lordship told us all, when he was here making thearrangements, that your ladyship was as beautiful as a white rose!"

And tears welled up in Zara's eyes and her voice trembled, as shethanked them and tried to smile. 

"She was quite overcome, the lovely young lady, " they told one anotherafterwards, "and no wonder. Any woman would be mad after his lordship. It is quite to be understood. "

How they all loved him, the poor bride thought, and he had told them shewas a beautiful white rose. He felt like that about her then, and shehad thrown it all away. Now he looked upon her with loathing anddisdain, and no wonder either--there was nothing to be done. 

Presently, he took her hand again and placed it on his arm, as theywalked through the long corridor, to the splendid hall, built by thebrothers Adam, with its stately staircase to the gallery above. 

"I have prepared the state rooms for your ladyship, pending yourladyship's choice of your own, " Mrs. Anglin said. "Here is the boudoir, the bedroom, the bathroom, and his lordship's dressing-room--all ensuite--and I hope your ladyship will find them as handsome, as we oldservants of the family think they are!"

And Zara came up to the scratch and made a charming little speech. 

When they got to the enormous bedroom, with its windows looking out onthe French garden and park, all in exquisite taste, furnished anddecorated by the Adams themselves, Tristram gallantly bent and kissedher hand, as he said:

"I will wait for you in the boudoir, while you take off your coat. Mrs. Anglin will show you the toilet-service of gold, which was given byLouis XIV to a French grandmother and which the Ladies Tancred alwaysuse, when they are at Wrayth. I hope you won't find the brushes toohard, " and he laughed and went out. 

And Zara, overcome with the state and beauty and tradition of it all, sat down upon the sofa for a moment to try to control her pain. She wasthrobbing with rage and contempt at herself, at the remembrance thatshe, in her ignorance, her ridiculous ignorance, had insulted thisman--this noble gentleman, who owned all these things--and had tauntedhim with taking her for her uncle's wealth. 

How he must have loved her in the beginning to have been willing to giveher all this, after seeing her for only one night. She writhed withanguish. There is no bitterness as great as the bitterness of losscaused by oneself. 

Tristram was standing by the window of the delicious boudoir when shewent in. Zara, who as yet knew very little of English things, admiredthe Adam style; and when Mrs. Anglin left them discreetly for a moment, she told him so, timidly, for something to say. 

"Yes, it is rather nice, " he said stiffly, and then went on: "We shallhave to go down now to this fearful lunch, but you had better take yoursable boa with you. The great hall is so enormous and all of stone, itmay be cold. I will get it for you, " and he went back and found it lyingby her coat on the chair, and brought it, and wrapped it round hercasually, as if she had been a stone, and then held the door for her togo out. And Zara's pride was stung, even though she knew he was doingexactly as she herself would have done, so that instead of the meekattitude she had unconsciously assumed, for a moment now she walkedbeside him with her old mien of head in the air, to the admiration ofMrs. Anglin, who watched them descend the stairs. 

"She is as haughty-looking as our own ladyship, " she thought to herself. "I wonder how his lordship likes that!"

The great hall was a survival of the time of Henry IV with its daïs toeat above the salt, and a magnificent stone fireplace, and an oak screenand gallery of a couple of centuries later. The tables were laid downeach side, as in the olden time, and across the daïs; and here, in thecarved oak "Lord" and "Lady" chairs, the bride and bridegroom sat with aprincipal tenant and his wife on either side of them, while the powderedfootmen served them with lunch. 

And all the time, when one or two comic incidents happened, she longedto look at Tristram and laugh; but he maintained his attitude of coldreserve, only making some genial stereotyped remark, when it wasnecessary for the public effect. 

And presently the speeches began, and this was the most trying moment ofall. For the land-steward, who proposed their healths, said such nicethings; and Zara realized how they all loved her lord, and her anger atherself grew and grew. In each speech from different tenants there wassome intimate friendly allusion about herself, too, linking her alwayswith Tristram; and these parts hurt her particularly. 

Then Tristram rose to answer them in his name and hers. He made asplendid speech, telling them that he had come back to live among themand had brought them a beautiful new Lady--and here he turned to her amoment and took and kissed her hand--and how he would always think ofall their interests in every way; and that he looked upon them as hisdear old friends; and that he and Lady Tancred would always endeavor topromote their welfare, as long as the radicals--here he laughed, forthey were all true blue to a man--would let them! And when voicesshouted, "We want none of them rats here, " he was gay and chaffed them;and finally sat down amidst yells of applause. 

Then an old apple-cheeked farmer got up from far down the table and madea long rambling harangue, about having been there, man and boy, and hisforbears before him, for a matter of two hundred years; but he'd takehis oath they had none of them ever seen such a beautiful bride broughtto Wrayth as they were welcoming now; and he drank to her ladyship'shealth, and hoped it would not be long before they would have anotherand as great a feast for the rejoicings over the son and heir!

At this deplorable bit of bucolic wit and hearty taste, Tristram's facewent stern as death; and he bit his lips, while his bride became thecolor of the red roses on the table in front of her. 

Thus the luncheon passed. And amidst countless hand-shakes of affection, accelerated by port wine and champagne, the bride and bridegroom, followed by the land-steward and a chosen few, went to receive andreturn the same sort of speeches among the lesser people in the tent. Here the allusions to marital felicity were even more glaring, and Zarasaw that each time Tristram heard them, an instantaneous gleam of bittersarcasm would steal into his eyes. So, worn out at last with the heat inthe tent and the emotions of the day, at about five, the bridegroom wasallowed to conduct his bride to tea in the boudoir of the state rooms. Thus they were alone, and now was Zara's time to make her confession, ifit ever should come. 

Tristram's resolve had held him, nothing could have been more gallinglycold and disdainful than had been his treatment of her, so perfect, inits acting for 'the game, ' and, so bitter, in the humiliation of thebetween times. She would tell him of her mistake. That was all. She mustguard herself against showing any emotion over it. 

They each sank down into chairs beside the fire with sighs of relief. 

"Good Lord!" he said, as he put his hand to his forehead. "What ahideous mockery the whole thing is, and not half over yet! I am afraidyou must be tired. You ought to go and rest until dinner--when, pleasebe very magnificent and wear some of the jewels--part of them have comedown from London on purpose, I think, beyond those you had atMontfitchet. "

"Yes, I will, " she answered, listlessly, and began to pour out the tea, while he sat quite still staring into the fire, a look of utterweariness and discouragement upon his handsome face. 

Everything about the whole thing was hurting him so, all the pleasure hehad taken in the improvements and the things he had done, hoping toplease her; and now, as he saw them about, each one stabbed him afresh. 

She gave him his cup without a word. She had remembered from Paris histastes in cream and sugar; and then as the icy silence continued, shecould bear it no longer. 

"Tristram, " she said, in as level a voice as she could. At the sound ofhis name he looked at her startled. It was the first time she had everused it!

She lowered her head and, clasping her hands, she went on constrainedly, so overcome with emotion she dared not let herself go. "I want to tellyou something, and ask you to forgive me. I have learned the truth, thatyou did not marry me just for my uncle's money. I know exactly whatreally happened now. I am ashamed, humiliated, to remember what I saidto you. But I understood you had agreed to the bargain before you hadever seen me. The whole thing seemed so awful to me--so revolting--I amsorry for what I taunted you with. I know now that you are really agreat gentleman. "

His face, if she had looked up and seen it, had first all lightened withhope and love; but as she went on coldly, the warmth died out of it, anda greater pain than ever filled his heart. So she knew now, and yet shedid not love him. There was no word of regret for the rest of hertaunts, that he had been an animal, and the blow in his face! Therecollection of this suddenly lashed him again, and made him rise to hisfeet, all the pride of his race flooding his being once more. 

He put down his tea-cup on the mantelpiece untasted, and then saidhoarsely:

"I married you because I loved you, and no man has ever regretted athing more. "

Then he turned round, and walked slowly from the room. 

And Zara, left alone, felt that the end had come. 

CHAPTER XXXV

A pale and most unhappy bride awaited her bridegroom in the boudoir at afew minutes to eight o'clock. She felt perfectly lifeless, as though shehad hardly enough will left even to act her part. The white satin of herdress was not whiter than her face. The head gardener had sent up somesplendid gardenias for her to wear and the sight of them pained her, forwere not these the flowers that Tristram had brought her that evening ofher wedding day, not a fortnight ago, and that she had then thrown intothe grate. She pinned some in mechanically, and then let the maid claspthe diamonds round her throat and a band of them in her hair. They wereso very beautiful, and she had not seen them before; she could not thankhim for them even--all conversation except before people was now at anend. Then, for her further unhappiness, she remembered he had said:"When the mockery of the rejoicings is over then we can discuss ourfuture plans. " What did that mean? That he wished to separate from her, she supposed. How could circumstance be so cruel to her! What had shedone? Then she sat down for a moment while she waited, and clenched herhands. And all the passionate resentment her deep nature was capable ofsurged up against fate, so that she looked more like the black pantherthan ever, and her mood had only dwindled into a sullen smolderingrage--while she still sat in the peculiar, concentrated attitude of ananimal waiting to spring--when Tristram opened the door, and came in. 

The sight of her thus, looking so unEnglish, so barbaric, suddenlyfilled him with the wild excitement of the lion hunt again. Couldanything be more diabolically attractive? he thought, and for a second, the idea flashed across him that he would seize her to-night and treather as if she were the panther she looked, conquer her by force, beather if necessary, and then kiss her to death! Which plan, if he hadcarried it out, in this case, would have been very sensible, but thetraining of hundreds of years of chivalry toward women and things weakerthan himself was still in his blood. For Tristram, twenty-fourth BaronTancred, was no brute or sensualist, but a very fine specimen of hisfine, old race. 

So, his heart beating with some uncontrollable excitement, and her heartfilled with smoldering rage, they descended the staircase, arm in arm, to the admiration of peeping housemaids and the pride of her own maid. And the female servants all rushed to the balustrade to get a betterview of the delightful scene which, they had heard whispered among them, was a custom of generations in the family--that when the Lord of Wraythfirst led his lady into the state dining-room for their first dinneralone he should kiss her before whoever was there, and bid her welcometo her new home. And to see his lordship, whom they all thought thehandsomest young gentleman they had ever seen, kiss her ladyship, wouldbe a thrill of the most agreeable kind!

What would their surprise have been, could they have heard him say icilyto his bride as he descended the stairs:

"There is a stupid custom that I must kiss you as we go into thedining-room, and give you this little golden key--a sort of ridiculousemblem of the endowment of all the worldly goods business. The servantsare, of course, looking at us, so please don't start. " Then he glancedup and saw the rows of interested, excited faces; and thatdevil-may-care, rollicking boyishness which made him so adored came overhim, and he laughed up at them, and waved his hand: and Zara's rageturned to wild excitement, too. There would be the walk across the hallof sixty paces, and then he would kiss her. What would it be like? Inthose sixty paces her face grew more purely white, while he came to theresolve that for this one second he would yield to temptation and notonly brush her forehead with his lips, as had been his intention, butfor once--just for this once--he would kiss her mouth. He was pastcaring about the footmen seeing. It was his only chance. 

So when they came to the threshold of the big, double doors he bent downand drew her to him, and gave her the golden key. And then he pressedhis warm, young, passionate lips to hers. Oh! the mad joy of it! Andeven if it were only from duty and to play the game, she had notresisted him as upon that other occasion. He felt suddenly, absolutelyintoxicated, as he had done on the wedding night. Why, why must thisghastly barrier be between them? Was there nothing to be done? Then helooked at his bride as they advanced to the table, and he saw that shewas so deadly white that he thought she was going to faint. Forintoxication, affects people in different ways; for her, the kiss hadseemed the sweetness of death. 

"Give her ladyship some champagne immediately, " he ordered the butler, and, still with shining eyes, he looked at her, and said gently, "forwe must drink our own healths. "

But Zara never raised her lids, only he saw that her little nostrilswere quivering, and by the rise and fall of her beautiful bosom he knewthat her heart must be beating as madly as was his own--and a wildtriumph filled him. Whatever the emotion she was experiencing, whetherit was anger, or disdain, or one he did not dare to hope for, it was aconsiderably strong one; she was, then, not so icily cold! How he wishedthere were some more ridiculous customs in his family! How he wished hemight order the servants out of the room, and begin to make love to herall alone. And just out of the devilment which was now in his blood hetook the greatest pleasure in "playing the game, " and while the solemnfootmen's watchful eyes were upon them, he let himself go and wascharming to her; and then, each instant they were alone he made himselffreeze again, so that she could not say he was not keeping to thebargain. Thus in wild excitement for them both the dinner passed. Withher it was alternate torture and pleasure as well, but with him, for thefirst time since his wedding, there was not any pain. For he felt he wasaffecting her, even if she were only "playing the game. " And gradually, as the time went on and dessert was almost come, the conviction grew inZara's brain that he was torturing her on purpose, overdoing the partwhen the servants were looking; for had he not told her but three hoursbefore that he _had_ loved her--using the past tense--and no manregretted a thing more! Perhaps--was it possible--he had seen when hekissed her that she loved him! And he was just punishing her, andlaughing at his dominion over her in his heart; so her pride took fireat once. Well, she would not be played with! He would see she couldkeep to a bargain; and be icy, too, when the play was over. So when atlast the servants had left the room, before coffee was brought, sheimmediately stiffened and fell into silence; and the two stared in frontof them, and back over him crept the chill. Yes, there was no usedeceiving himself. He had had his one moment of bliss, and now hispurgatory would begin again. 

Thus the comedy went on. Soon they had to go and open the ball, and theyboth won golden opinions from their first partners--hers, the stalwartbailiff, and his, the bailiff's wife. 

"Although she is a foreigner, Agnes, " Mr. Burrs said to his life'spartner when they got home, "you'd hardly know it, and a lovelier lady Ihave never seen. "

"She couldn't be too lovely for his lordship, " his wife retorted. "Why, William, he made me feel young again!"

The second dance the bridal pair were supposed to dance together; andthen when they should see the fun in full swing they were supposed toslip away, because it was considered quite natural that they might wishto be alone. 

"You will have to dance with me now, I am afraid, Zara, " Tristram said, and, without waiting for her answer, he placed his arm round her andbegan the valse. And the mad intoxication grew again in both of them, and they went on, never stopping, in a wild whirl ofdelight--unreasoning, passionate delight--until the music ceased. 

Then Zara who, by long years of suffering, was the more controlled, pulled herself together first, and, with that ingrained instinct todefend herself and her secret love, and to save his possible trueconstruction of her attitude, said stiffly:

"I suppose we can go now. I trust you think that I have 'played thegame. '"

"Too terribly well, " he said--stung back to reality. "It shows me whatwe have irreparably lost. " And he gave her his arm and, passed down thelane of admiring and affectionate guests to their part of the house; andat the door of the boudoir he left her without a word. 

So, with the bride in lonely anguish in the great state bed, the nightof the home-coming passed, and the morrow dawned. 

For thus the God of Pride makes fools of his worshipers. 

 * * * * *

It poured with rain the next day, but the same kind of thing went on forthe different grades of those who lived under the wing of the Tancredname, and neither bride nor bridegroom failed in their rôles, and theicy coldness between them increased. They had drawn upon themselves anatmosphere of absolute restraint and it seemed impossible to exchangeeven ordinary conversation; so that at this, their second dinner, theyhardly even kept up a semblance before the household servants, and, being free from feasting, Zara retired almost immediately the coffee hadcome. One of the things Tristram had said to her before she left theroom was:

"To-morrow if it is fine you had better see the gardens and really goover the house, if you wish. The housekeeper and the gardeners willthink it odd if you don't! How awful it is to have to conform toconvention!" he went on. "It would be good to be a savage again. Well, perhaps I shall be, some day soon. "

Then as she paused in her starting for the door to hear what he hadfurther to say, he continued:

"They let us have a day off to-morrow; they think, quite naturally, werequire a rest. So if you will be ready about eleven I will show you thegardens and the parts my mother loved--it all looks pretty dreary thistime of the year, but it can't be helped. "

"I will be ready, " Zara said. 

"Then there is the Address from the townspeople at Wrayth, on Thursday, "he continued, while he walked toward the door to open it for her, "andon Friday we go up to London to say good-bye to my mother. I hope youhave not found it all too impossibly difficult, but it will soon be overnow. "

"The whole of life is difficult, " she answered, "and one never knowswhat it is for, or why?" And then without anything further she went outof the door, and so upstairs and through all the lonely corridors to theboudoir. And here she opened the piano for the first time, and tried it;and finding it good she sat a long time playing her favorite airs--butnot the _Chanson Triste_--she felt she could not bear that. 

The music talked to her: what was her life going to be? What if, in theend, she could not control her love? What if it should break down herpride, and let him see that she regretted her past action and onlylonged to be in his arms. For her admiration and respect for him weregrowing each hour, as she discovered new traits in him, individually, and began to understand what he meant to all these people whose lord hewas. How little she had known of England, her own father's country! Howridiculously little she had really known of men, counting them allbrutes like Ladislaus and his friends, or feckless fools like poorMimo! What an impossible attitude was this one she had worn always ofarrogant ignorance! Something should have told her that these peoplewere not like that. Something should have warned her, when she first sawhim, that Tristram was a million miles above anything in the way of hissex that she had yet known. Then she stopped playing, and deliberatelywent over and looked in the glass. Yes, she was certainly beautiful, andquite young. She might live until she were seventy or eighty, in thenatural course of events, and the whole of life would be one long, dreary waste if she might not have her Love. After all, pride was notworth so very much. Suppose she were very gentle to him, and tried toplease him in just a friendly way, that would not be undignified norseem to be throwing herself at his head. She would begin to-morrow, ifshe could. Then she remembered Lady Ethelrida's words at the dinnerparty--was it possible that was only three weeks ago this verynight--the words that she had spoken so unconsciously, when she hadshowed so plainly the family feeling about Tristram and Cyril being thelast in the male line of Tancred of Wrayth. She remembered how she hadbeen angered and up in arms then, and now a whole education had passedover her, and she fully understood and sympathized with their point ofview. 

And at this stage of her meditations her eyes grew misty as they gazedinto distance, and all soft; and the divine expression of the SistineMadonna grew in them, as it grew always when she held Mirko in her arms. 

Yes, there were things in life which mattered far, far more than pride. And so, comforted by her resolutions, she at last went to bed. 

And Tristram sat alone by the fire in his own sitting-room, and staredat that other Tristram Guiscard's armor. And he, too, came to aresolution, but not of the same kind. He would speak to Francis Markrutewhen they arrived on Friday night and he could get him quietly alone. Hewould tell him that the whole thing was a ghastly failure, but as he hadonly himself to blame for entering into it he did not intend to reproachany one. Only, he would frankly ask him to use his clever brain andinvent some plan that he and Zara could separate, without scandal, untilsuch time as he should grow indifferent, and so could come back andcasually live in the house with her. He was only a human man, headmitted, and the present arrangement was impossible to bear. He waspast the anguish of the mockery of everything to-night--he was simplynumb. Then some waiting fiend made him think of Laura and her lastwords. What if there were some truth in them after all? He had himselfseen the man twice, under the most suspicious circumstances. What if hewere her lover? How could Francis Markrute know of all her existence, when he had said she had been an immaculate wife? And gradually, on topof his other miseries, trifles light as air came and tortured him untilpresently he had worked up a whole chain of evidence, proving the lovertheory to be correct!

Then he shook in his chair with rage, and muttered between his teeth:"If I find this is true then I will kill him, and kill her, also!"

So near to savages are all human beings, when certain passions arearoused. And neither bride nor bridegroom guessed that fate would soontake things out of their hands and make their resolutions null andvoid. 

CHAPTER XXXVI

The gardens at Wrayth were famous. The natural beauty of their positionand the endless care of generations of loving mistresses had left them amonument of what nature can be trained into by human skill. They hadalso in the eighteenth century by some happy chance escaped the hand ofCapability Brown. And instead of pulling about and altering the taste ofthe predecessor the successive owners had used fresh ground for theirfancies. Thus the English rose-garden and the Dutch-clipped yews ofWilliam-and-Mary's time were as intact as the Italian parterre. 

But November is not the time to judge of gardens, and Tristram wishedthe sun would come out. He waited for his bride at the foot of the Adamstaircase, and, at eleven, she came down. He watched her as she put oneslender foot before the other in her descent, he had not noticed beforehow ridiculously inadequate they were--just little bits of baby feet, even in her thick walking-boots. She certainly knew how to dress--andadapt herself to the customs of a country. Her short, serge frock andastrakhan coat and cap were just the things for the occasion; and shelooked so attractive and chic, with her hands in her monster muff, hebegan to have that pain again of longing for her, so he said icily:

"The sky is gray and horrid. You must not judge of things as you willsee them to-day; it is all really rather nice in the summer. "

"I am sure it is, " she answered meekly, and then could not think ofanything else to say, so they walked on in silence through the courtyardand round under a deep, arched doorway in the Norman wall to thesouthern side of the Adam erection, with its pillars making thecenterpiece. The beautiful garden stretched in front of them. Thisparticular part was said to have been laid out from plans of Le Notre, brought there by that French Lady Tancred who had been the friend ofLouis XIV. There were traces of her all over the house--Zara foundafterwards. It was a most splendid and stately scene even in the dullNovember gloom, with the groups of statuary, and the _tapis vert_, andthe general look of Versailles. The vista was immense. She could see farbeyond, down an incline, through a long clearing in the park, far awayto the tower of Wrayth church. 

"How beautiful it all is!" she said, with bated breath, and clasped herhands in her muff. "And how wonderful to have the knowledge that yourfamily has been here always, and these splendid things are theircreation. I understand that you must be a very proud man. "

This was almost the longest speech he had ever heard her make, inordinary conversation--the first one that contained any of her thoughts. He looked at her startled for a moment, but his resolutions of the nightbefore and his mood of suspicion caused him to remain unmoved. He wasnumb with the pain of being melted one moment with hope and frozen againthe next; it had come to a pass now that he would not let himselfrespond. She could almost have been as gracious as she pleased, out inthis cold, damp air, and he would have remained aloof. 

"Yes, I suppose I am a proud man, " he said, "but it is not much good tome; one becomes a cynic, as one grows older. "

Then with casual indifference he began to explain to her all about thegardens and their dates, as they walked along, just as though he wererather bored but acting cicerone to an ordinary guest, and Zara's heartsank lower and lower, and she could not keep up her little plan to begentle and sympathetic; she could not do more than say just "Yes, " and"No. " Presently they came through a door to the hothouses, and she hadto be introduced to the head gardener, a Scotchman, and express heradmiration of everything, and eat some wonderful grapes; and hereTristram again "played the game, " and chaffed, and was gay. And so theywent out, and through a clipped, covered walk to another door in a wall, which opened on the west side--the very old part of the house--andsuddenly she saw the Italian parterre. Each view as she came upon it shetried to identify with what she had seen in the pictures in _CountryLife_, but things look so different in reality, with the atmosphericeffects, to the cold gray of a print. Only there was no mistake aboutthis--the Italian parterre; and a sudden tightness grew round her heart, and she thought of Mirko and the day she had last seen him. And Tristramwas startled into looking at her by a sudden catching of her breath, andto his amazement he perceived that her face was full of pain, as thoughshe had revisited some scene connected with sorrowful memories. Therewas even a slight drawing back in her attitude, as if she feared to goon, and meet some ghost. What could it be? Then the malevolent spritewho was near him just now whispered: "It is an Italian garden, she hasseen such before in other lands; perhaps the man is an Italian--helooks dark enough. " So instead of feeling solicitous and gentle withwhatever caused her pain--for his manners were usually extremelycourteous, however cold--he said almost roughly:

"This seems to make you think of something! Well, let us get on and getit over, and then you can go in!"

He would be no sympathetic companion for her sentimental musings--overanother man!

Her lips quivered for a moment, and he saw that he had struck home, andwas glad, and grew more furious as he strode along. He would like tohurt her again if he could, for jealousy can turn an angel into a cruelfiend. They walked on in silence, and a look almost of fear crept intoher tragic eyes. She dreaded so to come upon Pan and his pipes. Yes, asthey descended the stone steps, there he was in the far distance withhis back to them, forever playing his weird music for the delight of allgrowing things. 

She forgot Tristram, forgot she was passionately preoccupied with himand passionately in love, forgot even that she was not alone. She sawthe firelight again, and the pitiful, little figure of her poor, littlebrother as he poured over the picture, pointing with his sensitiveforefinger to Pan's shape. She could hear his high, childish voice say:"See, Chérisette, he, too, is not made as other people are! Look, and heplays music, also. When I am with _Maman_ and you walk there you mustremember that this is me!"

And Tristram, watching her, knew not what to think. For her face hadbecome more purely white than usual, and her dark eyes were swimmingwith tears. 

God! how she must have loved this man! In wild rage he stalked besideher until they came quite close to the statue in the center of thestar, surrounded by its pergola of pillars, which in the summer were gaywith climbing roses. 

Then he stepped forward, with a sharp exclamation of annoyance, for thepipes of Pan had been broken and lay there on the ground. 

Who had done this thing?

When Zara saw the mutilation she gave a piteous cry; to her, to themystic part of her strange nature, this was an omen. Pan's music wasgone, and Mirko, too, would play no more. 

With a wail like a wounded animal's she slipped down on the stone bench, and, burying her face in her muff, the tension of soul of all these daysbroke down, and she wept bitter, anguishing tears. 

Tristram was dumbfounded. He knew not what to do. Whatever was thecause, it now hurt him horribly to see her weep--weep like this--as ifwith broken heart. 

For her suffering was caused by remembrance--remembrance that, absorbedin her own concerns and heart-burnings over her love, she had forgottenthe little one lately; and he was far away and might now be ill, andeven dead. 

She sobbed and sobbed and clasped her hands, and Tristram could not bearit any longer. 

"Zara!" he said, distractedly. "For God's sake do not cry like this!What is it? Can I not help you--Zara?" And he sat down beside her andput his arm round her, and tried to draw her to him--he must comfort herwhatever caused her pain. 

But she started up and ran from him; he was the cause of herforgetfulness. 

[Illustration: "'Zara!' he said distractedly. .. . 'Can I not helpyou?'"]

"Do not!" she cried passionately, that southern dramatic part of hernature coming out, here in her abandon of self-control. "Is it notenough for me to know that it is you and thoughts of you which havecaused me to forget him!--Go! I must be alone!"--and like a fawn shefled down one of the paths, and beyond a great yew hedge, and sodisappeared from view. 

And Tristram sat on the stone bench, too stunned to move. 

This was a confession from her, then--he realized, when his power cameback to him. It was no longer surmise and suspicion--there was some oneelse. Some one to whom she owed--love. And he had caused her to forgethim! And this thought made him stop his chain of reasoning abruptly. Forwhat did that mean? Had he then, after all, somehow made her feel--madeher think of him? Was this the secret in her strange mysterious facethat drew him and puzzled him always? Was there some war going on in herheart?

But the comforting idea which he had momentarily obtained from thatinference of her words went from him as he pondered, for nothing provedthat her thoughts of him had been of love. 

So, alternately trying to reason the thing out, and growing wild withpassion and suspicion and pain, he at last went back to the houseexpecting he would have to go through the ordeal of luncheon alone; butas the silver gong sounded she came slowly down the stairs. 

And except that she was very pale and blue circles surrounded her heavyeyes, her face wore a mask, and she was perfectly calm. 

She made no apology, nor allusion to her outburst; she treated theincident as though it had never been! She held a letter in her hand, which had come by the second post while they were out. It was written byher uncle from London, the night before, and contained his joyous news. 

Tristram looked at her and was again dumbfounded. She was certainly amost extraordinary woman. And some of his rage died down and he decidedhe would not, after all, demand an explanation of her now; he would letthe whole, hideous rejoicings be finished first and then, in London, hewould sternly investigate the truth. And not the least part of his painwas the haunting uncertainty as to what her words could mean, asregarded himself. If by some wonderful chance it were some passion inthe past and she now loved him, he feared he could forgive her--hefeared even his pride would not hold out over the mad happiness it wouldbe to feel her unresisting and loving, lying in his arms!

So with stormy eyes and forced smiles the pair sat down to luncheon, andZara handed him the epistle she carried in her hand. It ran:

"MY DEAR NIECE:

"I have to inform you of a piece of news that is a great gratificationto myself, and I trust will cause you, too, some pleasure. 

"Lady Ethelrida Montfitchet has done me the honor to accept my proposalfor her hand, and the Duke, her father, has kindly given his heartyconsent to my marriage with his daughter, which is to take place as soonas things can be arranged with suitability. I hope you and Tristram willarrive in time to accompany me to dinner at Glastonbury House on Fridayevening, when you can congratulate my beloved fiancé, who holds you inaffectionate regard. 

"I am, my dear niece, always your devoted uncle, "FRANCIS MARKRUTE. "

When Tristram finished reading he exclaimed:

"Good Lord!" For, quite absorbed in his own affairs, he had never evennoticed the financier's peregrinations! Then as he looked at the letteragain he said meditatively:

"I expect they will be awfully happy--Ethelrida is such an unselfish, sensible, darling girl--"

And it hurt Zara even in her present mood, for she felt the contrast toherself in his unconscious tone. 

"My uncle never does anything without having calculated it will turn outperfectly, " she said bitterly--"only sometimes it can happen that heplays with the wrong pawns. "

And Tristram wondered what she meant. He and she had certainly beenpawns in one of the Markrute games, and now he began to see this object, just as Zara had done. Then the thought came to him. --Why should he notnow ask her straight out--why she had married him? It was not from anydesire for himself, nor his position, he knew that: but for what?

So, the moment the servants went out of the room to get thecoffee--after a desultory conversation about the engagement until then, he said coldly:

"You told me on Monday that you now know the reason I had married you:may I ask you why did you marry me?"

She clasped her hands convulsively. This brought it all back--her poorlittle brother--and she was not free yet from her promise to her uncle:she never failed to keep her word. 

A look of deep, tragic earnestness grew in her pools of ink, and shesaid to him, with a strange sob in her voice:

"Believe me I had a strong reason, but I cannot tell it to you now. "

And the servants reentered the room at the moment, so he could not askher why: it broke the current. 

But what an unexpected inference she always put into affairs! What wasthe mystery? He was thrilled with suspicious, terrible interest. But ofone thing he felt sure--Francis Markrute did not really know. 

And in spite of his chain of reasoning about this probable lover somedoubt about it haunted him always; her air was so pure--her mien soproud. 

And while the servants were handing the coffee and still there Zararose, and, making the excuse that she must write to her uncle at once, left the room to avoid further questioning. Then Tristram leant his headupon his hands and tried to think. 

He was in a maze--and there seemed no way out. If he went to her now anddemanded to have everything explained he might have some awfulconfirmation of his suspicions, and then how could they go throughto-morrow--and the town's address? Of all things he had no right--justbecause of his wild passion in marrying this foreign woman--he had noright to bring disgrace and scandal upon his untarnished name: "noblesseoblige" was the motto graven on his soul. No, he must bear it untilFriday night after the Glastonbury House dinner. Then he would face herand demand the truth. 

And Zara under the wing of Mrs. Anglin made a thorough tour of thebeautiful, old house. She saw its ancient arras hangings, and panellingsof carved oak, and heard all the traditions, and looked at theportraits--many so wonderfully like Tristram, for they were a strong, virile race--and her heart ached, and swelled with pride, alternately. And, last of all, she stood under the portrait that had been painted bySargent, of her husband at his coming of age, and that master of arthad given him, on the canvas, his very soul. There he stood, in ascarlet hunt-coat--debonair, and strong, and true--with all the promiseof a noble, useful life in his dear, blue eyes. And suddenly this proudwoman put her hand to her throat to check the sob that rose there; andthen, again, out of the mist of her tears she saw Pan and his brokenpipes. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

Tristram passed the afternoon outdoors, inspecting the stables, andamong his own favorite haunts, and then rushed in, too late for tea andonly just in time to catch the post. He wrote a letter to Ethelrida, andhis uncle-in-law that was to be. How ridiculous that sounded! He wouldbe his uncle and Zara's cousin now, by marriage! Then, when he thoughtof this dear Ethelrida whom he had loved more than his own youngsisters, he hurriedly wrote out, as well, a telegram of affection andcongratulation which he handed to Michelham as he came in to get theletters--and the old man left the room. Then Tristram remembered that hehad addressed the telegram to Montfitchet, and Ethelrida would, ofcourse, he now recollected, be at Glastonbury House, as she was comingup that day--so he went to the door and called out:

"Michelham, bring me back the telegram. "

And the grave servant, who was collecting all the other letters from thepost-box in the hall, returned and placed beside his master on the tablea blue envelope. There were always big blue envelopes, for the sendingof telegrams, on all the writing tables at Wrayth. 

Tristram hurriedly wrote out another and handed it, and the servantfinally left the room. Then he absently pulled out his original one andglanced at it before tearing it up; and before he realized what he didhis eye caught: "To Count Mimo Sykypri"--he did not read theaddress--"Immediately, to-morrow, wire me your news. Chérisette. "

And ere his rage burst in a terrible oath he noticed that stamps wereenclosed. Then he threw the paper with violence into the fire!

There was not any more doubt nor speculation; a woman did not signherself "Chérisette"--"little darling"--except to a lover! Chérisette!He was so mad with rage that if she had come into the room at thatmoment he would have strangled her, there and then. 

He forgot that it was time to dress for dinner--forgot everything buthis overmastering fury. He paced up and down the room, and then after awhile, as ever, his balance returned. The law could give him no redressyet: she certainly had not been unfaithful to him in their brief marriedlife, and the law recks little of sins committed before the tie. Nothingcould come now of going to her and reproaching her--only a publicscandal and disgrace. No, he must play his part until he could consultwith Francis Markrute, learn all the truth, and then concoct some plan. Out of all the awful ruin of his life he could at least save his name. And after some concentrated moments of agony he mastered himself at lastsufficiently to go to his room and dress for dinner. 

But Count Mimo Sykypri would get no telegram that night!

The idea that there could be any scandalous interpretations put upon anyof her actions or words never even entered Zara's brain; so innocentlyunconscious was she of herself and her doings that that possible aspectof the case never struck her. She was the last type of person to make amystery or in any way play a part. The small subtly-created situationsand hidden darknesses and mysterious appearances which delighted thepuny soul of Laura Highford were miles beneath her feet. If she had evenfaintly dreamed that some doubts were troubling Tristram she would haveplainly told him the whole story and chanced her uncle's wrath. But shehad not the slightest idea of it. She only knew that Tristram was sternand cold, and showed his disdain of her, and that even though she hadmade up her mind to be gentle and try to win him back with friendship, it was almost impossible. She looked upon his increased, icy contempt ofher at dinner as a protest at her outburst of tears during the day. 

So the meal was got through, and the moment the coffee was brought hegulped it down, and then rose: he could not stand being alone with herfor a moment. 

She was looking so beautiful, and so meek, and so tragic, he could notcontain the mixed emotions he felt. He only knew if he had to bear themanother minute he should go mad. So, hardly with sufficient politenesshe said:

"I have some important documents to look over; I will wish you goodnight. " And he hurried her from the room and went on to his ownsitting-room in the other part of the house. And Zara, quite crushedwith her anxiety and sorrow about Mirko, and passionately unhappy atTristram's treatment of her, once more returned to her lonely room. Andhere she dismissed her maid, and remained looking out on the night. Themist had gone and some pure, fair stars shone out. 

Was that where _Maman_ was--up there? And was Mirko going to her soon, away out of this cruel world of sorrow and pain? As he had once said, surely there, there would be room for them both. 

But Zara was no morbidly sentimental person, the strong blood ran in herveins, and she knew she must face her life and be true to herself, whatever else might betide. So after a while the night airs soothed her, and she said her prayers and went to bed. 

But Tristram, her lord, paced the floor of his room until almost dawn. 

 * * * * *

The next day passed in the same kind of way, only, it was nearly all inpublic, with local festivities again; and both of the pair played theirparts well, as they were now experienced actors, and only one incidentmarked the pain of this Thursday out from the pains of the other days. It was in the schoolhouse at Wrayth, where the buxom girl who had beenassistant mistress, and had married, a year before, brought herfirst-born son to show the lord and lady--as he had been born on theirwedding day, just a fortnight ago! She was pale and wan, but soecstatically proud and happy looking; and Tristram at once said, they--he and Zara--must be the god-parents of her boy; and Zara held thecrimson, crumpled atom for a moment, and then looked up and met herhusband's eyes, and saw that they had filled with tears. And shereturned the creature to its mother--but she could not speak, for amoment. 

And finally they had come home again--home to Wrayth--and no moreunhappy pair of young, healthy people lived on earth. 

Zara could hardly contain her impatience to see if a telegram for herfrom Mimo had come in her absence. Tristram saw her look of anxiety andstrain, and smiled grimly to himself. She would get no answeringtelegram from her lover that day!

And, worn out with the whole thing, Zara turned to him and asked if itwould matter or look unusual if she said--what was true--that she was sofatigued she would like to go to bed and not have to come down todinner. 

"I will not do so, if it would not be in the game, " she said. 

And he answered, shortly:

"The game is over, to-night: do as you please. "

So she went off sadly, and did not see him again until they were readyto start in the morning--the Friday morning, which Tristram called thebeginning of the end!

He had arranged that they should go by train, and not motor up, as heusually did because he loved motoring; but the misery of being so closeto her, even now when he hoped he loathed and despised her, was toogreat to chance. So, early after lunch, they started, and would be atPark Lane after five. No telegram had come for Zara--Mimo must beaway--but, in any case, it indicated nothing unusual was happening, unless he had been called to Bournemouth by Mirko himself and had lefthurriedly. This idea so tortured her that by the time she got to Londonshe could not bear it, and felt she must go to Neville Street and see. But how to get away?

Francis Markrute was waiting for them in the library, and seemed so fullof the exuberance of happiness that she could not rush off until she hadpoured out and pretended to enjoy a lengthy tea. 

And the change in the reserved man struck them both. He seemed yearsyounger, and full of the milk of human kindness. And Tristram thought ofhimself on the day he had gone to Victoria to meet Zara, when she hadcome from Paris, and he had given a beggar half a sovereign, from sheerjoy of life. 

For happiness and wine open men's hearts. He would not attempt to speakabout his own troubles until the morning: it was only fair to leave theelderly lover without cares until after the dinner at Glastonbury House. 

At last Zara was able to creep away. She watched her chance, and, withthe cunning of desperation, finding the hall momentarily empty, stealthily stole out of the front door. But it was after half-past sixo'clock, and they were dining at Glastonbury House, St. James's Square, at eight. 

She got into a taxi quickly, finding one in Grosvenor Street because shewas afraid to wait to look in Park Lane, in case, by chance, she shouldbe observed; and at last she reached the Neville Street lodging, andrang the noisy bell. 

The slatternly little servant said that the gentleman was "hout, " butwould the lady come in and wait? He would not be long, as he had said"as how he was only going to take a telegram. "

Zara entered at once. A telegram!--perhaps for her--Yes, surely for her. Mimo had no one else, she knew, to telegraph to. She went up to thedingy attic studio. The fire was almost out, and the little maid lit onecandle and placed it upon a table. It was very cold on this dampNovember day. The place struck her as piteously poor, after the grandeurfrom which she had come. Dear, foolish, generous Mimo! She must dosomething for him--and would plan how. The room had the air ofscrupulous cleanness which his things always wore, and there was the"Apache" picture waiting for her to take, in a new gold frame; and the"London Fog" seemed to be advanced, too; he had evidently worked at itlate, because his palette and brushes, still wet, were on a box besideit, and on a chair near was his violin. He was no born musician likeMirko, but played very well. The palette and brushes showed he must haveput them hurriedly down. What for? Why? Had some message come for him?Had he heard news? And a chill feeling gripped her heart. She lookedabout to see if Mirko had written a letter, or one of his funny littlepostcards? No, there was nothing--nothing she had not seen except, yes, just this one on a picture of the town. Only a few words: "ThankChérisette for her letter, Agatha is _très jolie_, but does notunderstand the violin, and wants to play it herself. And heavens! thenoise!" How he managed to post these cards was always a mystery; theywere marked with the mark of doubling up twice, so it showed heconcealed them somewhere and perhaps popped them into a pillar-box, whenout for a walk. This one was dated two days ago. Could anything havehappened since? She burned with impatience for Mimo to come in. 

A cheap, little clock struck seven. Where could he be? The minutesseemed to drag into an eternity. All sorts of possibilities struck her, and then she controlled herself and became calm. 

There was a large photograph of her mother, which Mimo had coloredreally well. It was in a silver frame upon the mantelpiece, and shegazed and gazed at that, and whispered aloud in the gloomy room:

"_Maman, adorée!_ Take care of your little one now, even if he must cometo you soon. "

And beside this there was another, of Mimo, taken at the same time, whenZara and her mother had gone to the Emperor's palace in that far land. How wonderfully handsome he was then, and even still!--and how the airof _insouciance_ suited him, in that splendid white and gold uniform. But Mimo looked always a gentleman, even in his shabbiest coat. 

And now that she knew what the passion of love meant herself, she betterunderstood how her mother had loved. She had never judged her mother, itwas not in her nature to judge any one; underneath the case of steelwhich her bitter life had wrought her, Zara's heart was as tender as anangel's. 

Then she thought of the words in the Second Commandment: "And the sinsof the fathers shall be visited upon the children. " Had they sinned, then? And if so how terribly cruel such Commandments were--to make theinnocent children suffer. Mirko and she were certainly paying someprice. But the God that _Maman_ had gone to and loved and told herchildren of, was not really cruel, and some day perhaps she--Zara--wouldcome into peace on earth. And Mirko? Mirko would be up there, happy andsafe with _Maman_. 

The cheap clock showed nearly half-past seven. She could not waitanother moment, and also she reasoned if Mimo were sending her atelegram it would be to Park Lane. He knew she was coming up; she wouldget it there on her return, so she scribbled a line to Count Sykypri, and told him she had been--and why--and that she must hear at once, andthen she left and hurried back to her uncle's house. And when she gotthere it was twenty minutes to eight. 

Her maid had been dreadfully worried, as she had given no orders as towhat she would wear--but Henriette, being a person of intelligence, hadput out what she thought best, --only she could not prevent her anxietyand impatience from causing her to go on to the landing, and hang overthe stairs at every noise; and Tristram, coming out of his room alreadydressed, found her there--and asked her what she was doing. 

"I wait for _Miladi_, _Milor_, she have not come in, " Henriette said. "And I so fear _Miladi_ will be late. "

Tristram felt his heart stop beating for a second--strong man as he was. _Miladi_ had not come in!--But as they spoke, he perceived her on thelanding below, hurrying up--she had not waited to get the lift--and hewent down to meet her, while Henriette returned to her room. 

"Where have you been?" he demanded, with a pale, stern face. He was tooangry and suspicious to let her pass in silence, and he noticed hercheeks were flushed with nervous excitement and that she was out ofbreath; and no wonder, for she had run up the stairs. 

"I cannot wait to tell you now, " she panted. "And what right have you tospeak to me so? Let me pass, or I shall be late. "

"I do not care if you are late, or no. You shall answer me!" he saidfuriously, barring the way. "You bear my name, at all events, and I havea right because of that to know. "

"Your name?" she said, vaguely, and then for the first time she graspedthat there was some insulting doubt of her in his words. 

She cast upon him a look of withering scorn, and, with the air of anempress commanding an insubordinate guard, she flashed:

"Let me pass at once!"

But Tristram did not move, and for a second they glared at one another, and she took a step forward as if to force her way. Then he angrilyseized her in his arms. But at that moment Francis Markrute came out ofhis room and Tristram let her go--panting. He could not make a scene, and she went on, with her head set haughtily, to her room. 

"I see you have been quarreling again, " her uncle said, ratherirritably: and then he laughed as he went down. 

"I expect she will be late, " he continued; "well, if she is not in thehall at five minutes to eight, I shall go on. "

And Tristram sat down upon the deep sofa on the broad landing outsideher room, and waited: the concentrated essence of all the rage and painhe had yet suffered seemed to be now in his heart. 

But what had it meant--that look of superb scorn? She had no mien of aguilty person. 

At six minutes to eight she opened the door, and came out. She hadsimply flown into her clothes, in ten minutes! Her eyes were still blackas night with resentment, and her bosom rose and fell, while in herwhite cheeks two scarlet spots flamed. 

"I am ready, " she said, haughtily, "let us go, " and not waiting for herhusband she swept on down the stairs, exactly as her uncle opened thelibrary door. 

"Well done, my punctual niece!" he cried genially. "You are a woman ofyour word. "

"In all things, " she answered, fiercely, and went towards the door, where the electric brougham waited. 

And both men as they followed her wondered what she could mean. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

The dinner for Ethelrida's betrothal resembled in no way the one forZara and Tristram; for, except in those two hearts there was no bitterstrain, and the fiancés in this case were radiantly happy, which theycould not conceal, and did not try to. 

The Dowager Lady Tancred arrived a few minutes after the party of three, and Zara heard her mother-in-law gasp, as she said, "Tristram, my dearboy!" and then she controlled the astonishment in her voice, and went onmore ordinarily, but still a little anxiously, "I hope you are verywell?"

So he was changed then--to the eye of one who had not seen him since thewedding--and Zara glanced at him critically, and saw that--yes, he was, indeed, changed. His face was perfectly set and stern, and he lookedolder. It was no wonder his mother should be surprised. 

Then Lady Tancred turned to Zara and kissed her. "Welcome back, my deardaughter, " she said. And Zara tried to answer something pleasant: aboveall things, this proud lady who had so tenderly given her son'shappiness into her keeping must not guess how much there was amiss. 

But Lady Tancred was no simpleton--she saw immediately that her son musthave gone through much suffering and strain. What was the matter? Ittore her heart, but she knew him too well to say anything to him aboutit. 

So she continued to talk agreeably to them, and Tristram made a greateffort, and chaffed her, and became gay. And soon they went in todinner. And Lady Tancred sat on Francis Markrute's other side, and triedto overcome her prejudice against him. If Ethelrida loved him so much hemust be really nice. And Zara sat on one side of the old Duke, and LadyAnningford on the other, and on her other side was Young Billy who wasnow in an idiotic state of calf love for her--to the amusement of everyone. So, with much gayety and chaff the repast came to an end, and theladies, who were all old friends--no strangers now among them--disposedthemselves in happy groups about one of the drawing-rooms, while theysipped their coffee. 

Ethelrida drew Zara aside to talk to her alone. 

"Zara, " she said, taking her soft, white hand, "I am so awfully happywith my dear love that I want you to be so, too. Dearest Zara, won't yoube friends with me, now--real friends?"

And Zara, won by her gentleness, pressed Ethelrida's hand with her otherhand. 

"I am so glad, nothing my uncle could have done would have given me somuch pleasure, " she said, with a break in her voice. "Yes, indeed, Iwill be friends with you, dear Ethelrida. I am so glad--andtouched--that you should care to have me as your friend. " Then Ethelridabent forward and kissed her. "When one is as happy as I am, " she said, "it makes one feel good, as if one wanted to do all the kind things andtake away all sorrow out of the world. I have thought sometimes, Zaradear, that you did not look as happy as--as--I would like you to look. "

Happy! the mockery of the word!

"Ethelrida, " Zara whispered hurriedly--"don't--don't ask me anythingabout it, please, dear. No one can help me. I must come through with italone--but you of Tristram's own family, and especially you whom heloves so much, I don't want you ever to misjudge me. You think perhaps Ihave made him unhappy. Oh, if you only knew it all!--Yes, I have. And Idid not know, nor understand. I would die for him now, if I could, butit is too late; we can only play the game!"

"Zara, do not say this!" said Ethelrida, much distressed. "What can itbe that should come between such beautiful people as you? And Tristramadores you, Zara dear. "

"He did love me--once, " Zara answered sadly, "but not now. He would likenever to have to see me again. Please do not let us talk of it;please--I can't bear any more. "

And Ethelrida, watching her face anxiously, saw that it wore a hopeless, hunted look, as though some agonizing trouble and anxiety brooded overher. And poor Zara could say nothing of her other anxiety, for now thatEthelrida was engaged to her uncle her lips, about her own sorrowconcerning her little brother, must be more than ever sealed. Perhaps--she did not know much of the English point of view yet--perhapsif the Duke knew that there was some disgrace in the background of thefamily he might forbid the marriage, and then she would be spoiling thissweet Ethelrida's life. 

And Ethelrida's fine senses told her there was no use pressing thematter further, whatever the trouble was this was not the moment tointerfere; so she turned the conversation to lighter things, and, finally, talked about her own wedding, and so the time passed. 

The Dowager Lady Tancred was too proud to ask any one any questions, although she talked alone with Lady Anningford and could easily havedone so: the only person she mentioned her anxiety to was her brother, the Duke, when, later, she spoke a few words with him alone. 

"Tristram looks haggard and very unhappy, Glastonbury, " she said simply, "have you anything to tell me about it?"

"My dear Jane, " replied the Duke, "it is the greatest puzzle in theworld; no one can account for it. I gave him some sound advice atMontfitchet, when I saw things were so strained, and I don't believe hehas taken it, by the look of them to-night. These young, modern peopleare so unnaturally cold, though I did hear they had got through therejoicings, in fine style. "

"It troubles me very much, Glastonbury--to go abroad and leave himlooking like that. Is it her fault? Or what--do you think?"

"'Pon my soul, I can't say--even the Crow could not unravel the mystery. Laura Highford was at Montfitchet--confound her--would come; can shehave had anything to do with it, I wonder?"

Then they were interrupted and no more could be said, and finally theparty broke up, with the poor mother's feeling of anxiety unassuaged. Tristram and Zara were to lunch with her to-morrow, to say good-bye, andthen she was going to Paris--by the afternoon train. 

And Francis Markrute staying on to smoke a cigar with the Duke, and, presumably, to say a snatched good night to his fiancé, Tristram wasleft to take Zara home alone. 

Now would come the moment of the explanation! But she outwitted him, for they no sooner got into the brougham and he had just begun to speakthan she leaned back and interrupted him:

"You insinuated something on the stairs this evening, the vileness ofwhich I hardly understood at first; I warn you I will hear no more uponthe subject!" and then her voice broke suddenly and she said, passionately and yet with a pitiful note, "Ah! I am suffering soto-night, please--please don't speak to me--leave me alone. "

And Tristram was silenced. Whatever it was that soon she must explain, he could not torture her to-night, and, in spite of his anger andsuspicions and pain, it hurt him to see her, when the lights flashed inupon them, huddled up in the corner--her eyes like a wounded deer's. 

"Zara!" he said at last--quite gently, "what is this, awful shadow thatis hanging over you?--If you will only tell me--" But at that momentthey arrived at the door, which was immediately opened, and she walkedin and then to the lift without answering, and entering, closed thedoor. For what could she say?

She could bear things no longer. Tristram evidently saw she had somesecret trouble, she would get her uncle to release her from her promise, as far as her husband was concerned at least, --she hated mysteries, andif it had annoyed him for her to be out late she would tell him thetruth--and about Mirko, and everything. 

Evidently he had been very much annoyed at that, but this was the firsttime he had even suggested he had noticed she was troubled aboutanything, except that day in the garden at Wrayth. Her motives were soperfectly innocent that not the faintest idea even yet dawned upon herthat anything she had ever done could even look suspicious. Tristramwas angry with her because she was late, and had insinuated somethingout of jealousy; men were always jealous, she knew, even if they wereperfectly indifferent to a woman. What really troubled her terriblyto-night Was the telegram she found in her room. She had told the maidto put it there when it came. It was from Mimo, saying Mirko wasfeverish again--really ill, he feared, this time. 

So poor Zara spent a night of anguish and prayer, little knowing whatthe morrow was to bring. 

And Tristram went out again to the Turf, and tried to divert his mindaway from his troubles. There was no use in speculating any further, hemust wait for an explanation which he would not consent to put offbeyond the next morning. 

So at last the day of a pitiful tragedy dawned. 

Zara got up and dressed early. She must be ready to go out to try andsee Mimo, the moment she could slip away after breakfast, so she camedown with her hat on: she wanted to speak to her uncle alone, andTristram, she thought, would not be there so early--only nine o'clock. 

"This is energetic, my niece!" Francis Markrute said, but she hardlyanswered him, and as soon as Turner and the footman had left the roomshe began at once:

"Tristram was very angry with me last night because I was out late. Ihad gone to obtain news of Mirko, I am very anxious about him and Icould give Tristram no explanation. I ask you to relieve me from mypromise not to tell him--about things. "

The financier frowned. This was a most unfortunate moment to revive thefamily skeleton, but he was a very just man and he saw, directly, thatsuspicion of any sort was too serious a thing to arouse in Tristram'smind. 

"Very well, " he said, "tell him what you think best. He looksdesperately unhappy--you both do--are you keeping him at arm's lengthall this time, Zara? Because if so, my child, you will lose him, I warnyou. You cannot treat a man of his spirit like that; he will leave youif you do. "

"I do not want to keep him at arm's length; he is there of his own will. I told you at Montfitchet everything is too late--"

Then the butler entered the room: "Some one wishes to speak to yourladyship on the telephone, immediately, " he said. 

And Zara forgot her usual dignity as she almost rushed across the hallto the library, to talk:--it was Mimo, of course, so her presence ofmind came to her and as the butler held the door for her she said, "Calla taxi at once. "

She took the receiver up, and it was, indeed, Mimo's voice--and interrible distress. 

It appeared from his almost incoherent utterances that little Agatha hadteased Mirko and finally broken his violin. And that this had so excitedhim, in his feverish state, that it had driven him almost mad, and hehad waited until all the household, including the nurse, were asleep, and, with superhuman cunning, crept from his bed and dressed himself, and had taken the money which his Chérisette had given him for anemergency that day in the Park, and which he had always kept hidden inhis desk; and he had then stolen out and gone to the station--all in thenight, alone, the poor, poor lamb!--and there he had waited until theWeymouth night mail had come through, and had bought a ticket, and gotin, and come to London to find his father--with the broken violinwrapped in its green baize cover. And all the while coughing--coughingenough to kill him! And he had arrived with just enough money to pay acab, and had come at about five o'clock and could hardly wake the houseto be let in; and he, Mimo, had heard the noise and come down, and therefound the little angel, and brought him in, and warmed him in his bed. And he had waited to boil him some hot milk before he could come to thepublic telephone near, to call her up. Oh! but he was very ill--very, very ill--and could she come at once--but oh!--at once!

And Tristram, entering the room at that moment, saw her agonized faceand heard her say, "Yes, yes, dear Mimo, I will come now!" and before hecould realize what she was doing she brushed past him and rushed fromthe room, and across the hall and down to the waiting taxicab into whichshe sprang, and told the man where to go, with her head out of thewindow, as he turned into Grosvenor Street. 

The name "Mimo" drove Tristram mad again. He stood for a moment, deciding what to do, then he seized his coat and hat and rushed outafter her, to the amazement of the dignified servants. Here he hailedanother taxi, but hers was just out of sight down to Park Street, whenhe got into his. 

"Follow that taxi!" he said to the driver, "that green one in front ofyou--I will give you a sovereign if you never lose sight of it. "

So the chase began! He must see where she would go! "Mimo!" the "CountSykypri" she had telegraphed to--and she had the effrontery to talk toher lover, in her uncle's house! Tristram was so beside himself withrage he knew if he found them meeting at the end he would kill her. Histaxi followed the green one, keeping it always in view, right on toOxford Street, then Regent Street, then Mortimer Street. Was she goingto Euston Station? Another of those meetings perhaps in a waiting-room, that Laura had already described! Unutterable disgust as well as blindfury filled him. He was too overcome with passion to reason with himselfeven. No, it was not Euston--they were turning into the Tottenham CourtRoad--and so into a side street. And here a back tire on his taxi went, with a loud report, and the driver came to a stop. And, almost foamingwith rage, Tristram saw the green taxi disappear round the furthercorner of a mean street, and he knew it would be lost to view before hecould overtake it: there was none other in sight. He flung the man somemoney and almost ran down the road--and, yes, when he turned the cornerhe could see the green taxi in the far distance; it was stopping at adoor. He had caught her then, after all! He could afford to go slowlynow. She had entered the house some five or ten minutes before he gotthere. He began making up his mind. 

It was evidently a most disreputable neighborhood. A sickening, nauseating revulsion crept over him: Zara--the beautiful, refinedZara--to be willing to meet a lover here! The brute was probably ill, and that was why she had looked so distressed. He walked up and downrapidly twice, and then he crossed the road and rang the bell; the taxiwas still at the door. It was opened almost immediately by the little, dirty maid--very dirty in the early morning like this. 

He controlled his voice and asked politely to be taken to the lady whohad just gone in. With a snivel of tears Jenny asked him to follow her, and, while she was mounting in front of him, she turned and said: "Itain't no good, doctor, I ken tell yer; my mother was took just likethat, and after she'd once broke the vessel she didn't live a hour. " Andby this time they had reached the attic door which, without knockingJenny opened a little, and, with another snivel, announced, "The doctor, missis. "

And Tristram entered the room. 

CHAPTER XXXIX

And this is what he saw. 

The poor, mean room, with its scrupulous neatness slightly disturbed bythe evidences of the boiling of milk and the warming of flannel, andZara, kneeling by the low, iron bed where lay the little body of achild. For Mirko had dwindled, these last weeks of his constant fever, so that his poor, small frame, undersized for his age at any time, looked now no more than that of a boy of six years old. He was evidentlydying. Zara held his tiny hand, and the divine love and sorrowful agonyin her face wrung her husband's soul. A towel soaked with blood hadfallen to the floor, and lay there, a ghastly evidence of the "brokenvessel" Jenny had spoken of. Mimo, with his tall, military figureshaking with dry sobs, stood on the other side, and Zara murmured in atender voice of anguish: "My little one! My Mirko!" She was oblivious inher grief of any other presence--and the dying child opened his eyes andcalled faintly, "Maman!"

Then Mimo saw Tristram by the door, and advanced with his finger on hisquivering lips to meet him. 

"Ah, sir, " he said. "Alas! you have come too late. My child is going toGod!"

And all the manhood in Tristram's heart rose up in pity. Here was atragedy too deep for human judgment, too deep for thoughts of vengeance, and without a word he turned and stole from the room. And as hestumbled down the dark, narrow stairs he heard the sound of a violin asit wailed out the beginning notes of the _Chanson Triste_, and heshivered, as if with cold. 

For Mirko had opened his piteous eyes again, and whispered in littlegasps:

"Papa--play to me the air _Mamam_ loved. I can see her blue gauzewings!" And in a moment, as his face filled with the radiance of hisvision he fell back, dead, into Zara's arms. 

When Tristram reached the street he looked about him for a minute like ablinded man; and then, as his senses came back to him, his first thoughtwas what he could do for her--that poor mother upstairs, with her dyingchild. For that the boy was Zara's child he never doubted. Herchild--and her lover's--had he not called her "_Maman_. " So this was theawful tragedy in her life. He analyzed nothing as yet; his whole beingwas paralyzed with the shock and the agony of things: the only clearthought he had was that he must help her in whatever way he could. 

The green taxi was still there, but he would not take it, in case sheshould want it. He walked on down the street and found a cab forhimself, and got driven to his old rooms in St. James's Street: he mustbe alone to think. 

The hall-porter was surprised to see him. Nothing was ready for hislordship--but his wife would come up--?

But his lordship required nothing, he wished to find something alone. 

He did not even notice that there was no fire in the grate, and that theroom was icy cold--the agony of pain in his mind and soul made himunconscious of lesser ills. He pulled one of the holland sheets off hisown big chair, and sat down in it. 

Poor Zara, poor, unhappy Zara!--were his first thoughts--then hestiffened suddenly. This man must have been her lover before even herfirst marriage!--for Francis Markrute had told him she had married verysoon. She was twenty-three years old now, and the child could not havebeen less than six; he must have been born when she was only seventeen. What devilish passion in a man could have made him tempt a girl soyoung! Of course this was her secret, and Francis Markrute knew nothingof it. For one frightful moment the thought came that her husband wasnot really dead and that this was he: but no, her husband's name hadbeen Ladislaus, and this man she had called "Mimo, " and if the boy werethe child of her marriage there need then have been no secret about hisexistence. There was no other solution--this Count Sykypri had been herlover when she was a mere child, and probably the concealment had gonethrough all her first married life. And no doubt her reason for marryinghim, which she admitted was a very strong one, had been that she mighthave money to give to the child--and its father. 

The sickening--sickening, squalid tragedy of it all!

And she, Zara, had seemed so proud and so pure! Her look of scorn, onlythe night before, at his jealous accusation, came back to him. He couldnot remember a single movement nor action of hers that had not been thatof an untarnished queen. What horrible actresses women were! His wholebelief had crumbled to the dust. 

And the most terrible part of it all to him was the knowledge that inspite of everything he still loved her--loved her with a consuming, almighty passion that he knew nothing now could kill. It had been putto the bitterest proof. Whatever she had done he could love no otherwoman. 

Then he realized that his life was over. The future a blank, unutterable, hopeless gray which must go on for years and years. For hecould never come back to her again, nor even live in the house with her, under the semblance of things. 

Then an agonizing bitterness came to him, the hideous malevolence offate, not to have let him meet this woman first before this other man;think of the faithfulness of her nature, with all its cruel actions tohimself! She had been absolutely faithful to her lover, and had defendedherself from his--Tristram's--caresses, even of her finger-tips. What alove worth having, what a strong, true character--worth dying for--in awoman!

And now, he must never see her again; or, if once more, only for abusiness meeting, to settle things without scandal to either of them. 

He would not go back to Park Lane, yet--not for a week; he would giveher time to see to the funeral, without the extra pain of his presence. 

The man had taken him for the doctor, and she had not even been aware ofhis entrance: he would go back to Wrayth, alone, and there try to thinkout some plan. So he searched among the covered-up furniture for hiswriting table, and found some paper, and sat down and wrote two notes, one to his mother. He could not face her to-day--she must go withoutseeing him--but he knew his mother loved him, and, in all deep moments, never questioned his will even if she did not understand it. 

The note to her was very short, merely saying something was troublinghim greatly for the time, so neither he nor Zara would come to luncheon;and she was to trust him and not speak of this to any one until hehimself told her more. He might come and see her in Cannes, thefollowing week. 

Then he wrote to Zara, and these were his words:

"I know everything. I understand now, and however I blame you for yourdeception of me you have my deep sympathy in your grief. I am going awayfor a week, so you will not be distressed by seeing me. Then I must askyou to meet me, here or at your uncle's house, to arrange for our futureseparation. 

"Yours, "Tancred. "

Then he rang for a messenger boy, and gave him both notes, and, pickingup the telephone, called up his valet and told him to pack and bring histhings here to his old rooms, and, if her ladyship came in, to see thatshe immediately got the note he was sending round to her. FrancisMarkrute would have gone to the City by now and was going to lunch withEthelrida, so he telephoned to one of his clerks there--finding he wasout for the moment--just to say he was called away for a week and wouldwrite later. 

She should have the first words with her uncle. Whether she would tellhim or no she must decide, he would not do anything to make herexistence more difficult than it must naturally be. 

And then when all this was done the passionate jealousy of a manovercame him again, and when he thought of Mimo he once more longed tokill. 

CHAPTER XL

It was late in the afternoon when Zara got back to her uncle's house. She had been too distracted with grief to know or care about time, orwhat they would be thinking of her absence. 

Just after the poor little one was dead frantic telegrams had come fromthe Morleys, in consternation at his disappearance, and Mimo, quiteprostrate in his sorrow, as he had been at her mother's death, had leftall practical things to Zara. 

No doctor turned up, either. Mimo had not coherently given the address, on the telephone. Thus they passed the day alone with their dead, inanguish; and at last thought came back to Zara. She would go to heruncle, and let him help to settle things; she could count upon him to dothat. 

Francis Markrute, anxious and disturbed by Tristram's message and herabsence, met her as she came in and drew her into the library. 

The butler had handed her her husband's note, but she held it listlesslyin her hand, without opening it. She was still too numb with sorrow totake notice of ordinary things. Her uncle saw immediately that somethingterrible had happened. 

"Zara, dear child, " he said, and folded her in his arms withaffectionate kindness, "tell me everything. "

She was past tears now, but her voice sounded strange with the tragedyin it. 

"Mirko is dead, Uncle Francis, " was all she said. "He ran away fromBournemouth because Agatha, the Morleys' child, broke his violin. Heloved it, you know _Maman_ had given it to him. He came in the night, all alone, ill with fever, to find his father, and he broke a bloodvessel this morning, and died in my arms--there, in the poor lodging. "

Francis Markrute had drawn her to the sofa now, and stroked her hands. He was deeply moved. 

"My poor, dear child! My poor Zara!" he said. 

Then, with most pathetic entreaty she went on, "Oh, Uncle Francis, can't you forgive poor Mimo, now? _Maman_ is deadand Mirko is dead, and if you ever, some day, have a child yourself, youmay know what this poor father is suffering. Won't you help us? He isfoolish always--unpractical--and he is distracted with grief. You are sostrong--won't you see about the funeral for my little love?"

"Of course I will, dear girl, " he answered. "You must have no moredistresses. Leave everything to me. " And he bent and kissed her whitecheek, while he tenderly began to remove the pins from her fur toque. 

"Thank you, " she said gently, as she took the hat from his hand, andlaid it beside her. "I grieve because I loved him--my dear littlebrother. His soul was all music, and there was no room for him here. Andoh! I loved _Maman_ so! But I know that it is better as it is; he issafe there, with her now, far away from all his pain. He saw her when hewas dying. " Then after a pause she went on: "Uncle Francis, you loveEthelrida very much, don't you? Try to look back and think how _Maman_loved Mimo, and he loved her. Think of all the sorrow of her life, andthe great, great price she paid for her love; and then, when you seehim--poor Mimo--try to be merciful. "

And Francis Markrute suddenly felt a lump in his throat. The wholepitiful memory of his beloved sister stabbed him, and extinguished thelast remnant of rancor towards her lover, which had smoldered always inhis proud heart. 

There was a moisture in his clever eyes, and a tremulous note in hiscold voice as he answered his niece:

"Dear child, we will forget and forgive everything. My one thought aboutit all now, is to do whatever will bring you comfort. "

"There is one thing--yes, " she said, and there was the first look oflife in her face. "Mirko, when I saw him last at Bournemouth, played tome a wonderful air; he said _Maman_ always came back to him in hisdreams when he was ill--feverish, you know--and that she had taught itto him. It talks of the woods where she is, and beautiful butterflies;there is a blue one for her, and a little white one for him. He wroteout the score--it is so joyous--and I have it. Will you send it toVienna or Paris, to some great artist, and get it really arranged, andthen when I play it we shall always be able to see _Maman_. "

And the moisture gathered again in Francis Markrute's eyes. 

"Oh, my dear!" he said. "Will you forgive me some day for my hardness, for my arrogance to you both? I never knew, I never understood--untillately--what love could mean in a life. And you, Zara, yourself, dearchild, can nothing be done for you and Tristram?"

At the mention of her husband's name Zara looked up, startled; and thena deeper tragedy than ever gathered in her eyes, as she rose. 

"Let us speak of that no more, my uncle, " she said. "Nothing can bedone, because his love for me is dead. I killed it myself, in myignorance. Nothing you or I can do is of any avail now--it is all toolate. "

And Francis Markrute could not speak. Her ignorance had been his fault, his only mistake in calculation, because he had played with souls aspawns in those days before love had softened him. And she made him noreproaches, when that past action of his had caused the finish of herlife's happiness! Verily, his niece was a noble woman, and, with deepesthomage, as he led her to the door he bent down and kissed her forehead;and no one in the world who knew him would have believed that she feltit wet with tears. 

When she got to her room she remembered she still carried some note, andshe at last looked at the superscription. It was in Tristram's writing. In spite of her grief and her numbness to other things it gave her asharp emotion. She opened it quickly and read its few cold words. Thenit seemed as if her knees gave way under her, as at Montfitchet that daywhen Laura Highford had made her jealous. She could not think clearly, nor fully understand their meaning; only one point stood out distinctly. He must see her to arrange for their separation. He had grown to hateher so much, then, that he could not any longer even live in the housewith her, and all her grief of the day seemed less than this thought. Then she read it again. He knew all? Who could have told him? Her UncleFrancis? No, he did not himself know that Mirko was dead until she hadtold him. This was a mystery, but it was unimportant. Her numb braincould not grasp it yet. The main thing was that he was very angry withher for her deception of him: that, perhaps, was what was causing himfinally to part from her. How strange it was that she was alwayspunished for keeping her word and acting up to her principles! She didnot think this bitterly, only with utter hopelessness. There was no usein her trying any longer; happiness was evidently not meant for her. Shemust just accept things--and life, or death, as it came. But how hardmen were--she could never be so stern to any one for such a littlefault, for _any_ fault--stern and unforgiving as that strange God whowrote the Commandments. 

And then she felt her cheeks suddenly burn, and yet she shivered; andwhen her maid came to her, presently, she saw that her mistress was notonly deeply grieved, but ill, too. So she put her quickly to bed, andthen went down to see Mr. Markrute. 

"I think we must have a doctor, monsieur, " she said. "_Miladi_ is not atall well. "

And Francis Markrute, deeply distressed, telephoned at once for hisphysician. 

His betrothed had gone back to the country after luncheon, so he couldnot even have the consolation of her sympathy, and where Tristram was hedid not know. 

For the four following days Zara lay in her bed, seriously ill. She hadcaught a touch of influenza the eminent physician said, and hadevidently had a most severe shock as well. But she was naturally sosplendidly healthy that, in spite of grief and hopelessness, thefollowing Thursday she was able to get up again. Francis Markrutethought her illness had been merciful in a way because the funeral hadall been got over while she was confined to her room. Zara had acceptedeverything without protest. She had not desired even to see Mirko oncemore. She had no morbid fancies; it was his soul she loved andremembered, not the poor little suffering body. 

It came to her as a comfort that her uncle and Mimo had met and shakenhands in forgiveness, and now poor Mimo was coming to say good-bye toher that afternoon. 

He was leaving England at once, and would return to his own country andhis people. In his great grief, and with no further ties, he hoped theywould receive him. He had only one object now in life--to get throughwith it and join those he loved in some happier sphere. 

This was the substance of what he said to Zara when he came; and theykissed and blessed one another, and parted, perhaps for ever. The"Apache" and the "London Fog, " which would never be finished now hefeared--the pain would be too great--would be sent to her to keep as aremembrance of their years of life together and the deep ties that boundthem by the memory of those two graves. 

And Zara in her weakness had cried for a long time after he had left. 

And then she realized that all that part of her life was over now, andthe outlook of what was to come held out no hope. 

Francis Markrute had telegraphed to Wrayth, to try and find Tristram, but he was not there. He had not gone there at all. At the last momenthe could not face it, he felt; he must go somewhere away alone--by thesea. A great storm was coming on--it suited his mood--so he had lefteven his servant in London and had gone off to a wild place on theDorsetshire coast that he knew of, and there heard no news of any one. He would go back on the Friday, and see Zara the next day, as he hadsaid he would do. Meanwhile he must fight his ghosts alone. And whatghosts they were!

Now on this Saturday morning Francis Markrute was obliged to leave hisniece. His vast schemes required his attention in Berlin and he would begone for a week, and then was going down to Montfitchet. Ethelrida hadwritten Zara the kindest letters. Her fiancé had told her all thepitiful story, and now she understood the tragedy in Zara's eyes, andloved her the more for her silence and her honor. 

But all these thoughts seemed to be things of naught to the sadrecipient of her letters, since the one and only person who mattered nowin her life knew, also, and held different ones. He was aware of all, and had no sympathy or pity--only blame--for her. And now that herhealth was better and she was able to think, this ceaseless questionworried her; how could Tristram possibly have known all? Had he followedher? As soon as she would be allowed to go out she would go and seeJenny, and question her. 

And Tristram, by the wild sea--the storm like his mood had lasted allthe time--came eventually to some conclusions. He would return and seehis wife and tell her that now they must part, that he knew of her pastand he would trouble her no more. He would not make her any reproaches, for of what use? And, besides, she had suffered enough. He would goabroad at once, and see his mother for a day at Cannes, and tell her hisarrangements, and that Zara and he had agreed to part--he would give herno further explanations--and then he would go on to India and Japan. And, after this, his plans were vague. It seemed as if life were tooimpossible to look ahead, but not until he could think of Zara withcalmness would he return to England. 

And if Zara's week of separation from him had been grief and suffering, his had been hell. 

On the Saturday morning, after her uncle had started for Dover, a note, sent by hand, was brought to Zara. It was again only a few words, merelyto say if it was convenient to her, he--Tristram--would come at twoo'clock, as he was motoring down to Wrayth at three, and was leavingEngland on Monday night. 

Her hand trembled too much to write an answer. 

"Tell the messenger I will be here, " she said; and she sat then for along time, staring in front of her. 

Then a thought came to her. Whether she were well enough or no she mustgo and question Jenny. So, to the despair of her maid, she wrappedherself in furs and started. She felt extremely faint when she got intothe air, but her will pulled her through, and when she got there thelittle servant put her doubts at rest. 

Yes, a very tall, handsome gentleman had come a few minutes afterherself, and she had taken him up, thinking he was the doctor. 

"Why, missus, " she said, "he couldn't have stayed a minute. He come awaywhile the Count was playin' his fiddle. "

So this was how it was! Her thoughts were all in a maze: she could notreason. And when she got back to the Park Lane house she felt too feebleto go any further, even to the lift. 

Her maid came and took her furs from her, and she lay on the librarysofa, after Henriette had persuaded her to have a little chicken broth;and then she fell into a doze, and was awakened only by the sound of theelectric bell. She knew it was her husband coming, and sat up, with awildly beating heart. Her trembling limbs would not support her as sherose for his entrance, and she held on by the back of a chair. 

And, grave and pale with the torture he had been through, Tristram cameinto the room. 

CHAPTER XLI

He stopped dead short when he saw her so white and fragile looking. Thenhe exclaimed, "Zara--you have been ill!"

"Yes, " she faltered. 

"Why did they not tell me?" he said hurriedly, and then recollectedhimself. How could they? No one, not even his servant, knew where he hadbeen. 

She dropped back unsteadily on the sofa. 

"Uncle Francis did telegraph to you, to Wrayth, but you were not there, "she said. 

He bit his lips--he was so very moved. How was he to tell her all thethings he had come to say so coldly, with her looking so pitiful, sogentle? His one longing was to take her to his heart and comfort her, and make her forget all pain. 

And she was so afraid of her own weakness, she felt she could not bearto hear her death-knell, yet. If she could only gain a little time! Itwas characteristic of her that she never dreamed of defending herself. She still had not the slightest idea that he suspected Mimo of being herlover. Tristram's anger with her was just because he was anEnglishman--very straight and simple--who could brook no deception! thatis what she thought. 

If she had not been so lately and so seriously ill--if all her finefaculties had been in their full vigor--perhaps some idea might havecome to her; but her soul was so completely pure it did not naturallygrasp such things, so even that is doubtful. 

"Tristram--" she said, and there was the most piteous appeal in hertones, which almost brought the tears to his eyes. "Please--I know youare angry with me for not telling you about Mirko and Mimo, but I hadpromised not to, and the poor, little one is dead. I will tell youeverything presently, if you wish, but don't ask me to now. Oh! if youmust go from me soon--you know best--I will not keep you, but--butplease won't you take me with you to-day--back to Wrayth--just until Iget quite well? My uncle is away, and I am so lonely, and I have not anyone else on earth. "

Her eyes had a pleading, frightened look, like a child's who is afraidto be left alone in the dark. 

He could not resist her. And, after all, her sin was of long ago--shecould have done nothing since she had been his wife--why should she notcome to Wrayth? She could stay there if she wished, for a while after hehad gone. Only one thing he must know. 

"Where is Count Sykypri?" he asked hoarsely. 

"Mimo has gone away, back to his own country, " she said simply, wondering at his tone. "Alas! I shall perhaps never see him again. "

A petrifying sensation of astonishment crept over Tristram. With all hermeek gentleness she had still the attitude of a perfectly innocentperson. It must be because she was only half English, and foreignersperhaps had different points of reasoning on all such questions. 

The man had gone, then--out of her life. Yes, he would take her back toWrayth if it would be any comfort to her. 

"Will you get ready now?" he said, controlling his voice into a note ofsternness which he was far from feeling. "Because I am sure you oughtnot to be out late in the damp air. I was going in the open car, and todrive myself, and it takes four hours. The closed one is not in London, as you know. " And then he saw she was not fit for this, so he saidanxiously, "But are you sure you ought to travel to-day at all? You lookso awfully pale. "

For there was a great difference in her present transparent, snowywhiteness, with the blue-circled eyes, to her habitual gardenia hue;even her lips were less red. 

"Yes, yes, I am quite able to go, " she said, rising to show him she wasall right. "I will be ready in ten minutes. Henriette can come by trainwith my things. " And she walked towards the door, which he held open forher. And here she paused, and then went on to the lift. He followed herquickly. 

"Are you sure you can go up alone?" he asked anxiously. "Or may I come?"

"Indeed, I am quite well, " she answered, with a little pathetic smile. "I will not trouble you. Wait, I shall not be long. " And so she went up. 

And when she came down again, all wrapped in her furs, she foundTristram had port wine ready for her, poured out. 

"You must drink this--a big glass of it, " he said; and she took itwithout a word. 

Then when they got to the door she found instead of his own open motorhe had ordered one of her uncle's closed ones, which with footwarmer andcushions was waiting, so that she should be comfortable and not catchfurther cold. 

"Thank you--that is kind of you, " she said. 

He helped her in, and the butler tucked the fur rug over them, whileTristram settled the cushions. Then she leaned back for a second andclosed her eyes--everything was going round. 

He was very troubled about her. She must have been very ill, even in theshort time--and then her grief, --for, even though she had been so muchseparated from it, a mother always loves her child. Then this thoughthurt him again. He hated to remember about the child. 

She lay there back against the pillows until they had got quite out ofLondon, without speaking a word. The wine in her weak state made hersleepy, and she gradually fell into a doze, and her head slippedsideways and rested against Tristram's shoulder, and it gave him atremendous thrill--her beautiful, proud head with its thick waves ofhair showing under her cap. 

He was going to leave her so soon, and she would not know it--she wasasleep--he must just hold her to him a little; she would be morecomfortable like that. So, with cautious care not to wake her, heslipped his arm under the cushion, and very gently and gradually drewher into his embrace, so that her unconscious head rested upon hisbreast. 

And thus more than two hours of the journey were accomplished. 

And what thoughts coursed through his brain as they went!

He loved her so madly. What did it matter how she had sinned? She wasill and lonely, and must stay in his arms--just for to-day. But he couldnever really take her to his heart--the past was too terrible for that. And, besides, she did not love him; this gentleness was only becauseshe was weak and crushed, for the time. But how terribly, bitterly sweetit was, all the same! He had the most overpowering temptation to kissher, but he resisted it; and presently, when they came to a levelcrossing and a train gave a wild whistle, she woke with a start. It wasquite dark now, and she said, in a frightened voice, "Where am I? Wherehave I been?"

Tristram slipped his arm from round her instantly, and turned on thelight. 

"You are in the motor, going to Wrayth, " he said. "And I am glad to sayyou have been asleep. It will do you good. "

She rubbed her eyes. 

"Ah! I was dreaming. And Mirko was there, too, with _Maman_, and we wereso happy!" she said, as if to herself. 

Tristram winced. 

"Are we near home--I mean, Wrayth?" she asked. 

"Not quite yet, " he answered. "There will be another hour and a half. "

"Need we have the light on?" she questioned. "It hurts my eyes. "

He put it out, and there they sat in the growing darkness, and did notspeak any more for some time; and, bending over her, he saw that she haddozed off again. How very weak she must have been!

He longed to take her into his arms once more, but did not like todisturb her--she seemed to have fallen into a comfortable position amongthe pillows--so he watched over her tenderly, and presently they came tothe lodge gates of Wrayth, and the stoppage caused her to wake and situp. 

"It seems I had not slept for so long, " she said, "and now I feelbetter. It is good of you to let me come with you. We are in the park, are we not?"

"Yes, we shall be at the door in a minute. "

And then she cried suddenly, "Oh! look at the deer!" For a bold and valiant buck, startled andindignant at the motor lights, was seen, for an instant, glaring at themas they flashed past. 

"You must go to bed as soon as you have had some tea, " Tristram said, "after this long drive. It is half-past six. I telegraphed to have aroom prepared for you. Not that big state apartment you had before, butone in the other part of the house, where we live when we are alone; andI thought you would like your maid next you, as you have been ill. "

"Thank you, " she whispered quite low. 

How kind and thoughtful he was being to her! She was glad she had beenill!

Then they arrived at the door, and this time they turned to the leftbefore they got to the Adam's hall, and went down a corridor to the oldpaneled rooms, and into his own sitting-room where it was all warm andcozy, and the tea-things were laid out. She already looked better forher sleep; some of the bluish transparency seemed to have left her face. 

She had not been into this room on her inspection of the house. Sheliked it best of all, with its scent of burning logs and good cigars. And Jake snorted by the fire with pleasure to see his master, and shebent and patted his head. 

But everything she did was filling Tristram with fresh bitterness andpain. To be so sweet and gentle now when it was all too late!

He began opening his letters until the tea came. There were thetelegrams from Francis Markrute, sent a week before to say Zara was ill, and many epistles from friends. And at the end of the pile he found ashort note from Francis Markrute, as well. It was written the daybefore, and said that he supposed he, Tristram, would get it eventually;that Zara had had a very sad bereavement which he felt sure she wouldrather tell him about herself, and that he trusted, seeing how very sadand ill she had been, that Tristram would be particularly kind to her. So her uncle knew, then! This was incredible: but perhaps Zara had toldhim, in her first grief. 

He glanced up at her; she was lying back in a great leather chair now, looking so fragile and weary, he could not say what he intended. ThenJake rose leisurely and put his two fat forepaws up on her knees andsnorted as was his habit when he approved of any one. And she bent downand kissed his broad wrinkles. 

It all looked so homelike and peaceful! Suddenly scorching tears cameinto Tristram's eyes and he rose abruptly, and walked to the window. Andat that moment the servants brought the teapot and the hot scones. 

She poured the tea out silently, and then she spoke a little to Jake, just a few silly, gentle words about his preference for cakes or toast. She was being perfectly adorable, Tristram thought, with her air ofpensive, subdued sorrow, and her clinging black dress. 

He wished she would suggest going to her room. He could not bear it muchlonger. 

She wondered why he was so restless. And he certainly was changed; helooked haggard and unhappy, more so even than before. And then sheremembered how radiantly strong and splendid he had appeared, at dinneron their wedding night, and a lump rose in her throat. 

"Henriette will have arrived by now, " she said in a few minutes. "If youwill tell me where it is I will go to my room. "

He got up, and she followed him. 

"I expect you will find it is the blue, Chinese damask one just at thetop of these little stairs. " Then he strode on in front of her quickly, and called out from the top, "Yes, it is, and your maid is here. "

And as she came up the low, short steps, they met on the turn, andstopped. 

"Good night, " he said. "I will have some soup and suitable things for aninvalid sent up to you; and then you must sleep well, and not get up inthe morning. I shall be very busy to-morrow. I have a great many thingsto do before I go on Monday. I am going away for a long time. "

She held on to the banisters for a minute, but the shadows were sodeceiving, with all the black oak, that he was not sure what herexpression said. Her words were a very low "Thank you--I will try tosleep. Good night. "

And she went up to her room, and Tristram went on, downstairs--a deeperache than ever in his heart. 

CHAPTER XLII

It was not until luncheon time that Zara came down, next day. She felthe did not wish to see her, and she lay there in her pretty, old, quaintroom, and thought of many things, and the wreck of their lives, aboveall. And she thought of Mirko and her mother, and the tears came to hereyes. But that grief was past, in its bitterness; she knew it was muchbetter so. 

The thought of Tristram's going tore her very soul, and swallowed up allother grief. 

"I cannot, cannot bear it!" she moaned to herself. 

He was sitting gazing into the fire, when she timidly came into hissitting-room. She had been too unhappy to sleep much and was againlooking very pale. 

He seemed to speak to her like one in a dream. He was numb with hisgrowing misery and the struggle in his mind: he must leave her--thesituation was unendurable--he could not stay, because in her presentsoftened mood it was possible that if he lost control of himself andcaressed her she might yield to him; and, then, he knew no resolutionson earth could hold him from taking her to his heart. And she must neverreally be his wife. The bliss of it might be all that was divine atfirst, but there would be always the hideous skeleton beneath, ready topeep out and mock at them: and then if they should have children? Theywere both so young that would be sure to happen; and this thought, whichhad once, in that very room, in his happy musings, given him so muchjoy, now caused him to quiver with extra pain. For a woman with such abackground should not be the mother of a Tancred of Wrayth. 

Tristram was no Puritan, but the ingrained pride in his old name hecould not eliminate from his blood. So he kept himself with an ironreserve. He never once looked at her, and spoke as coldly as ice; andthey got through luncheon. And Zara said, suddenly, she would like to goto church. 

It was at three o'clock, so he ordered the motor without a word. She wasnot well enough to walk there through the park. 

He could not let her go alone, so he changed his plans and went withher. They did not speak, all the way. 

She had never been into the church before, and was struck with the finewindows, and the monuments of the Guiscards, and the famous tomb of theCrusader in the wall of the chancel pew where they sat; and all throughthe service she gazed at his carven face, so exactly like Tristram's, with the same, stern look. 

And a wild, miserable rebellion filled her heart, and then a cold fear;and she passionately prayed to God to protect him. For what if he shouldgo on some dangerous hunting expedition, and something should happen, and she should never see him again! And then, as she stood while theysang the final hymn, she stopped and caught her breath with a sob. AndTristram glanced at her in apprehension, and he wondered if he shouldhave to suffer anything further, or if his misery were at its height. 

The whole congregation were so interested to see the young pair, andthey had to do some handshakings, as they came out. What would all thesegood people think, Tristram wondered with bitter humor, when they heardthat he had gone away on a long tour, leaving his beautiful bride alone, not a month after their marriage? But he was past caring what theythought, one way or another, now. 

Zara went to her room when they got back to the house, and when she camedown to tea he was not there, and she had hers alone with Jake. 

She felt almost afraid to go to dinner. It was so evident he wasavoiding her. And while she stood undecided her maid brought in a note:

"I ask you not to come down--I cannot bear it. I will see you to-morrowmorning, before I go, if you will come to my sitting-room at twelve. "

That was all. 

And, more passionately wretched than she had ever been in her life, shewent to bed. 

She used the whole strength of her will to control herself next morning. She must not show any emotion, no matter how she should feel. It was notthat she had any pride left, or would not have willingly fallen into hisarms; but she felt no woman could do so, unsolicited and when a manplainly showed her he held her in disdain. 

So it was, with both their hearts breaking, they met in thesitting-room. 

"I have only ten minutes, " he said constrainedly. "The motor is at thedoor. I have to go round by Bury St. Edmunds; it is an hour out of myway, and I must be in London at five o'clock, as I leave for Paris bythe night mail. Will you sit down, please, and I will be as brief as Ican. "

She fell, rather than sank, into a chair. She felt a singing in herears; she must not faint--she was so very weak from her recent illness. 

"I have arranged that you stay here at Wrayth until you care to makefresh arrangements for yourself, " he began, averting his eyes, andspeaking in a cold, passionless voice. "But if I can help it, after Ileave here to-day I will never see you again. There need be no publicscandal; it is unnecessary that people should be told anything; they canthink what they like. I will explain to my mother that the marriage wasa mistake and we have agreed to part--that is all. And you can live asyou please and I will do the same. I do not reproach you for the ruinyou have brought upon my life. It was my own fault for marrying you soheedlessly. But I loved you so--!" And then his voice broke suddenlywith a sob, and he stretched out his arms wildly. 

"My God!" he cried, "I am punished! The agony of it is that I love youstill, with all my soul--even though I saw them with my own eyes--yourlover and--your child!"

Here Zara gave a stifled shriek, and, as he strode from the room notdaring to look at her for fear of breaking his resolution, she roseunsteadily to her feet and tried to call him. But she gasped and nowords would come. Then she fell back unconscious in the chair. 

He did not turn round, and soon he was in the motor and gliding away asthough the hounds of hell were after him, as, indeed, they were, fromthe mad pain in his heart. 

And when Zara came to herself it was half an hour later, and he was manymiles away. 

She sat up and found Jake licking her hands. 

Then remembrance came back. He was gone--and he loved her even though hethought her--that!

She started to her feet. The blood rushed back to her brain. She mustact. 

She stared around, dazed for a moment, and then she saw the timetables--the Bradshaw and the A. B. C. She turned over the leaves of thelatter with feverish haste. Yes, there was a train which left at 2:30and got to London at half-past five; it was a slow one--the expresswhich started at 3:30, did not get in until nearly six. That might betoo late--both might be too late, but she must try. Then she put herhand to her head in agony. She did not know where he had gone. Would hego to his mother's, or to his old rooms in St. James's Street? She didnot know their number. 

She rang the bell and asked that Michelham should come to her. 

The old servant saw her ghastly face, and knew from Higgins that hismaster intended going to Paris that night. He guessed some tragedy hadhappened between them, and longed to help. 

"Michelham, " she said, "his lordship has gone to London. Do you know towhat address? I must follow him--it is a matter of life and death that Isee him before he starts for Paris. Order my motor for the 2:30train--it is quicker than to go by car all the way. "

"Yes, my lady, " Michelham said. "Everything will be ready. His lordshiphas gone to his rooms, 460 St. James's Street. May I accompany yourladyship? His lordship would not like your ladyship to travel alone. "

"Very well, " she said. "There is no place anywhere, within drivingdistance that I could catch a train that got in before, is there?"

"No, my lady; that will be the soonest, " he said. "And will yourladyship please to eat some luncheon? There is an hour before the motorwill be round. I know your ladyship's own footman, James, should go withyour ladyship, but if it is something serious, as an old servant, and, if I may say so, a humble and devoted friend of his lordship's, I wouldbeg to accompany your ladyship instead. "

"Yes, yes, Michelham, " said Zara, and hurried from the room. 

She sent a telegram when at last she reached the station--to the St. James's Street rooms. 

"What you thought was not true. Do not leave until I come and explain. Iam your own Zara. "

Then the journey began--three hours of agony, with the constantstoppages, and the one thought going over and over in her brain. Hebelieved she had a lover and a child, and yet he loved her! Oh, God!That was love, indeed!--and she might not be in time. 

But at last they arrived--Michelham and she--and drove to Tristram'srooms. 

Yes, his lordship had been expected at five, but had not arrived yet; hewas late. And Michelham explained that Lady Tancred had come, and wouldwait, while he himself went round to Park Lane to see if Lord Tancredhad been there. 

He made up a splendid fire in the sitting-room, and, telling Higgins notto go in and disturb her even with tea, the kind old man started on hisquest--much anxiety in his mind. 

Ten minutes passed, and Zara felt she could hardly bear the suspense. The mad excitement had kept her up until now. What if he were so latethat he went straight to the train? But then she remembered it went atnine--and it was only six. Yes, he would surely come. 

She did not stir from her chair, but her senses began to take in theroom. How comfortable it was, and what good taste, even with theevidences of coming departure about! She had seen two or three telegramslying on the little hall table, waiting for him, as she came in--hersamong the number, she supposed. A motor stopped, surely!--Ah! if itshould be he! But there were hundreds of such noises in St. James'sStreet, and it was too dark and foggy to see. She sat still, her heartbeating in her throat. Yes, there was the sound of a latch key turningin the lock! And, after stopping to pick up his telegrams, Tristram, allunexpecting to see any one, entered the room. 

She rose unsteadily to meet him, as he gave an exclamation of surpriseand--yes--pain. 

"Tristram!" she faltered. It seemed as if her voice had gone again, andthe words would make no sound. But she gathered her strength, and, withpitiful pleading, stretched out her arms. 

"Tristram--I have come to tell you--I have never had a lover: Mimo wasat last married to _Maman_. He was her lover, and Mirko was theirchild--my little brother. My uncle did not wish me to tell you this fora time, because it was the family disgrace. " Then, as he made a stepforward to her, with passionate joy in his face, she went on:

"Tristram! You said, that night--before you would ever ask me to be yourwife again, I must go down upon my knees--See--I do!--for Oh!--I loveyou!" And suddenly she bent and knelt before him, and bowed her proudhead. 

But she did not stay in this position a second, for he clasped her inhis arms, and rained mad, triumphant kisses upon her beautiful, curvedlips, while he murmured, "At last--my Love--my own!"

 * * * * *

Then when the delirium of joy had subsided a little, --with whattenderness he took off her hat and furs, and drew her into his arms, onthe sofa before the fire. --The superlative happiness to feel her restingthere, unresisting, safe in his fond embrace, with those eyes, which hadbeen so stormy and resentful, now melting upon him in softest passion. 

It seemed heaven to them both. They could not speak coherent sentencesfor a while--just over and over again they told each other that theyloved. --It seemed as if he could not hear her sweet confession oftenenough--or quench the thirst of his parched soul upon her lips. 

Then the masterfulness in him which Zara now adored asserted itself. Hemust play with her hair! He must undo it, and caress its waves, to blotout all remembrance of how its forbidden beauty had tortured him. --Andshe just lay there in his arms, in one of her silences, only her eyeswere slumberous with love. 

But at last she said, nestling closer, "Tristram, won't you listen to the story that I must tell you? I wantthere never to be any more mysteries between us again--"

And, to content her, he brought himself back to earth--

"Only I warn you, my darling, " he said, "all such things are sideissues for me now that at last we have obtained the only thing whichreally matters in life--we know that we love each other, and are notgoing to be so foolish as to part again for a single hour--if we canhelp it--for the rest of time. "

And then his whole face lit up with radiant joy, and he suddenly buriedit in her hair. "See, " he inurmured, "I am to be allowed to play withthis exquisite net to ensnare my heart; and you are not to be allowed tospend hours in state rooms--alone! Oh! darling! How can I listen toanything but the music of your whispers, when you tell me you love meand are my very own!"

Zara did, however, finally get him to understand the whole history frombeginning to end. And when he heard of her unhappy life, and hermother's tragic story, and her sorrow and poverty, and her final reasonfor agreeing to the marriage, and how she thought of men, and then ofhim, and all her gradual awakening into this great love, there grew inhim a reverent tenderness. 

"Oh! my sweet--my sweet!" he said. "And I dared to be suspicious of youand doubt you, it seems incredible now!"

Then he had to tell his story--of how reasonable his suspicions looked, and, in spite of them, of his increasing love. And so an hour passedwith complete clearing up of all shadows, and they could tenderly smiletogether over the misunderstandings which had nearly caused them to ruinboth their lives. 

"And to think, Tristram, " said Zara, "a little common sense would havemade it all smooth!"

"No, it was not that, " he answered fondly, with a whimsical smile in hiseyes, "the troubles would never have happened at all if I had only notpaid the least attention to your haughty words in Paris, nor even atDover, but had just continued making love to you; all would have beenwell!--However, " he added joyously, "we will forget dark things, becauseto-morrow I shall take you back to Wrayth, and we shall have our realhoneymoon there in perfect peace. "

And, as her lips met his, Zara whispered softly once more, _"Tu sais que je t'aime!"_

 * * * * *

Oh! the glorious joy of that second home-coming for the bridal pair! Towalk to all Tristram's favorite haunts, to wander in the old rooms, andplan out their improvements, and in the late afternoons to sit in thefirelight in his own sitting-room, and make pictures of their futurejoys together. Then he would tell her of his dreams, which once hadseemed as if they must turn to Dead Sea fruit, but were now all brightand glowing with glad promise of fulfillment. 

His passionate delight in her seemed as if it could not find enoughexpression, as he grew to know the cultivation of her mind and the purethoughts of her soul. --And her tenderness to him was all the sweeter inits exquisite submission, because her general mien was so proud. 

They realized they had found the greatest happiness in this world, andwith the knowledge that they had achieved their desires, after anguishand pain, they held it next their hearts as heaven's gift. 

And when they went to Montfitchet again, to spend that Christmas, theold Duke was satisfied!

 * * * * *

Now, all this happened two years ago. And on thesecond anniversary of the Tancred wedding Mr. Francisand Lady Ethelrida Markrute dined with their nephewand niece. 

And when they came to drinking healths, bowing to Zara her uncle raisedhis glass and said, "I propose a toast, that I prophesied I would, to you, my very dearniece--the toast of four supremely happy people!"

And as they drank, the four joined hands. 

THE END