Read The Master of the Ceremonies Page 41

ofa chair, for the room seemed to be turning, and she felt sick.

  "But he didn't, ma'am."

  "Isn't he hurt, then?"

  "Yes, ma'am, badly. I wonder you didn't know. You see, he met MajorRockley--you know him, ma'am?--handsome dark gentleman with mustachios."

  "Yes, yes, I know," said Mrs Dean, revelling in the bit of gossip."Have some more cake."

  "Thank you, ma'am. Major Rockley was out walking with Miss ClaireDenville out on the Downs--"

  Cora's faintness passed away, and the room ceased to glide round as hereyes brightened, and she felt as if she could have embraced thathandsome _roue_, who always, bowed to her with such a look of insolentcontempt.

  "And then Mr Linnell came up and took Major Rockley's whip away andbeat him."

  Cora's cheeks burned with jealous rage now. How dare Richard Linnell dothat? And yet she liked him for it. He was so brave. But for ClaireDenville! Her eyes flashed again.

  "Then they met this morning, ma'am, down on the sands, and fought a realduel, and Major Rockley shot Mr Linnell."

  "It is not true!" cried Cora excitedly, and once more the room began toturn.

  "Yes, ma'am, it's quite true," said Annie, with her mouth now full ofcake.

  Shot!--injured by Major Rockley! and she--she could not go down to himto wait upon him, and show him by her every act how she loved him.

  A minute before she had been ready to bless Major Rockley. Now, curseswere in her heart, as she thought of him raising his hand againstRichard Linnell to strike him down.

  "No, ma'am, he isn't very bad," Annie went on, in answer to a questionof Mrs Dean.

  "It can't be true," Cora said to herself, as her brain seemed to becomea chaos of love, jealousy, hatred, and pride in the brave young fellowwho had saved her life, and, civilian though he was, showed himselfready to meet such a notorious fire-eater as the Major.

  Just then she gave a gasp, for she saw a stiff, military-looking man,whom she knew to be the regimental surgeon, come up to the door.

  It was true, then; and it was all she could do to keep from burstinginto an hysterical fit of sobbing.

  But a thought came directly that gave her strength, and she felt joy andelation together as she said to herself:

  "He found them together, and horsewhipped the Major. Well, so much thebetter. He can never think of Claire Denville again. If he did--"

  She uttered a low unpleasant laugh, as Annie found that she must goback, for she could eat no more cake; and as soon as they were aloneMrs Dean exclaimed:

  "Don't, for goodness' sake, laugh like that, my dear; it gives me thecold shivers all down my back. It's just like Metalina in `The HauntedVampire,' where she takes an oath as she'll kill her rival or perish inthe attempt."

  Volume Two, Chapter VIII.

  MRS BARCLAY IS PUZZLED.

  "Oh, my dear, and do you know how they're all a-talking about you?"cried Mrs Barclay, as she sat panting beneath the florid portrait ofMay Burnett in the MC's shabby drawing-room.

  Claire looked up appealingly in the pleasant, plump face, and her browknit.

  "You see, it all comes to me, my dear, and it worries me because I likeyou so."

  "You were always very kind to me, Mrs Barclay."

  "Not half so kind as I should like to be, my dear. I wanted to have youhome when the mur--"

  "Oh, hush!"

  "Of course, my dear. That's my way. So vulgar and thoughtless. Thinkof me now bringing that up to you who live here; and us sitting in thevery next room."

  "Mrs Barclay!"

  "Yes, I won't say another word, my dear. Not that I believe in sperritsor anything of that kind. But you were saying about me being kind.Why, you won't let me be, my dear. I'm sure the dresses I'd buy you,and the things I'd give you, if you'd let me, would make some of themstare."

  "But I could not let you, Mrs Barclay," said Claire, smiling.

  "No; you're so proud, my dear, that's it. You see, Josiah lets me haveso much for housekeeping, that I've always plenty to spare; and as tojewellery, why, I might wash in diamonds if I liked, but I don't."

  "Let us be as usual, Mrs Barclay," said Claire, with more animation,"and never mind about what people say, or fashion, or dress, or any ofthe nonsense."

  "I'm sure I should like to be, my dear; but you being a motherless girl,I don't like to hear people talking about you."

  Claire's face grew flushed.

  "Don't look like that, Claire, my dear. I'm not cross with you, butwhen people talk about you being out walking with that horrid blackMajor Rockley, it hurts me."

  "I could not help it, Mrs Barclay," said Claire.

  "Then it's all true, then, about young Mr Linnell horse-whipping him?"

  "Yes, yes; but this is so cruel to me. He did beat him for insultingme."

  "Bless him then. I always liked him, my dear. How he must love you!"

  "Oh, hush, hush!" cried Claire, in agony.

  "I don't see why. I'm sure he's everything that's good and brave; andyou need not sob like that, my dear, for, from what I can hear, he isn'tvery badly hurt."

  Claire started. A dread that had been hanging over her was beginning toassume form.

  "But they say it's a mercy that the Major's bullet did not go an inchlower."

  "Bullet? The Major! They have had a meeting?"

  "Yes, my dear. I thought you must know, and I came to talk to you abouteven speaking to--there--there, what a woman I am. I came to do good,and I'm doing nothing but harm. Now, she's going to faint."

  "No, no!" cried Claire agitatedly; "it is nothing. I am not going tofaint, Mrs Barclay, indeed. There, you see, I am quite calm now."

  "Yes, and I am sorry, my dear; but I am such a thoughtless woman.Barclay's quite right; I haven't no head at all."

  "No head?" said Claire, smiling, as she sat down close to her visitorand laid her hands upon her arm. "Perhaps it is because you have somuch heart."

  "Heart, my dear! why--no; I declare I'm most afraid to speak, for fearof saying something that may hurt your feelings."

  "If you will not speak about--about--"

  "Mr Linnell, my dear?"

  "Yes, but only to tell me that he is not much hurt--you said so, did younot?" cried Claire.

  "Yes, my dear; he's not much hurt. But, Claire, my dear, wouldn't it bebetter if you--so pretty and young as you are--did care very much forsome one as nice and good as he is?"

  "No, no," cried Claire excitedly. "Pray, pray say no more. It isimpossible."

  "Well, you know best, my dear," said Mrs Barclay sadly; "and you wantme to talk about something else. Well, I'll talk about you, only youmust not mind if I say something stupid. It's my way."

  "I am sure you would not say anything to wound me," said Claire, kissingher.

  "Indeed I wouldn't, my dear: and, do you know, ever since I found outhow you people here were situated, through Mr Denville coming to see myJosiah, who is the real best of men, I seemed to take to you like. Iwent home and had a good cry after I'd been here the first time, andseen you managing your poor father, and your sister and brother sowell."

  Claire's brow grew troubled, but her visitor prattled on.

  "You had another brother, hadn't you, my dear, who couldn't agree withyour father like, and then went away?"

  "Yes," said Claire, bowing her head to hide her face.

  "Ah, my Josiah told me so. Well, well, there's troubles in everyfamily, my dear; and so long as pa has got you he has not much cause forcomplaint."

  Claire looked up, trying to smile, but it was a sorry attempt; and soonafter her guest rose, assuring her that she need not be uneasy about MrLinnell.

  "One word before I go, my dear, though, just as a secret. It isn't thatI'm curious, because I don't care who it is marries, or whom they marry;but I've no girls of my own, and I do take an interest in you. Now,just in a whisper like. I am an old friend."

  "Yes, yes--indeed, you are. The only dear friend I have."

  "Then t
ell me now; put your lips close to my ear--it is to be MrLinnell, is it not?"

  "Never!" said Claire firmly.

  "Oh, my! And I told you to whisper. I won't believe it's that horribleMajor."

  "Mrs Barclay," said Claire, putting her arms round her homely friend'sneck, "they say that every woman has her duty in life: mine is to watchover and help my father, and to be such protection as I can to my