Chapter 29
"How should I know? Play billiards, read the odds."
"He has a wife here, then."
"Do you mean Madame Denise?" said Gellow innocently.
She gave him a scornful look.
"Are you fool, or make fun of me?" she cried fiercely. "Bah, I am too much angry. Is there a lady here?"
"No, I should think not, but we could easily find out. If he has, it is too bad, owing me so much as he does. No, I don't think so; stop--yes I do. By Jingo, it's too bad. That's why he did not want to take me out in his yacht."
"What do you mean?" said the woman searchingly.
"If there is one, madame--if he is married, she is aboard his yacht, and yonder they go--no, they don't; they're out of sight."
There was so much reality in Gellow's delivery of this speech, that his _vis-a-vis_ was completely hoodwinked. She tried to pa.s.s it off with a laugh, but the compression of her lips, the contraction about her eyes, all showed the jealous rage she was in; and it was only by giving one foot a fierce stamp on the carpet, and by walking quickly to the window, that she could keep herself from shrieking aloud.
"Well, madame," said Gellow, "you are getting all right again."
"Oh, yais; I am getting all right."
"And you can do without my services?"
"Oh, yais."
"Then I'll say good-bye. Glad I was near to help you out. Glad to see you again if you like to give me a call in town."
"Where are you going?"
"Going? Back to London as fast as I can."
"And what for, sir?"
"To read up all the yachting news, and see where _The Fair Star_ puts in, and then run down and give Master Glyddyr a bit of my mind."
"Stop--an hour--two hours."
"What for?"
"Till I get back my dress all a dry. I go back wiz you."
"Oh, certainly, if you wish it; but I wouldn't; you had better stop here and rest for a
"I go back wiz you," said the woman decidedly. And she kept her word, for in two hours they caught a train.
The next day came a telegram from Underley, giving that as Glyddyr's temporary address.
Gellow wrote back advising that the yacht should in future sail under another name, with her owner incog, and he added that the coast at Danmouth was now clear.
Volume One, Chapter XIII.
HEARTS ARE NOT DEFORMED.
"Now Claude, darling, what do you think of me?" said Mary, one morning; "am I beautiful as a flower in spring?"
"No," said Claude gravely; "only what you are, my dear little cousin; why?"
Mary's face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling as much from mischief as pleasure as she caught her cousin's hand, led her softly to the open window of her bedroom, and pointed down.
Claude looked at her wonderingly, but she was too well used to her companion's whims to oppose her, and she looked down.
"Can you see the goose?" whispered Mary.
"I can see Mr Trevithick walking with papa; I thought they were in the study;" and, she hardly knew why, she gazed down with some little interest at the tall, stoutish man of thirty, with closely-cut dark hair and smoothly shaved face, which gave him rather the aspect of a giant boy as he walked beside Gartram, talking to him slowly and earnestly, evidently upon some business matter.
"Well, that's who I mean," said Mary, laughing almost hysterically, "for he must be mad."
"Now, Mary dear, what fit is this?" cried Claude, pressing her hands and drawing her away, as, a very child for the moment, she was about to get upon a chair and peep down from behind the curtain. "I know how angry papa would be if he caught sight of you looking down."
"Well, the man should not be such a goose--gander, I mean. I thought he was such a clever, staid, serious lawyer that uncle trusted him deeply."
"Of course," said Claude warmly; "and he's quite worthy of it. I like Mr Trevithick very, very much."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mary, in a mock tragic tone, as she flung her cousin's hands away, "you'll make me hate you."
"Mary, you ought to have been an actress."
"You mean I ought to have been a man and an actor, Claudie. Oh, how I could have played Richard the Third."
"Hus.h.!.+"
"Oh, they can't hear. They're talking of bills and bonds and lading. I heard them. But Claude, oh! and you professing to love Chris Lisle."
"I never professed anything of the kind," cried Claude indignantly.
"Your eyes did; and all the time uncle is engaging you to Mr Glyddyr."
"Mary! For shame!"
"And in spite of this double-dealing, you must want Mr Trevithick, too?"
"Do you wish to make me angry?"
"Do you wish to make me jealous?"
"Jealous? Absurd!"
"Of course," cried Mary sharply. "What should a poor little miserable like I am know of love or jealousy or heartaches, and the rest of it?"