interest. Plenty of otherthings came on to attract their attention.
CHAPTER ONE.
In the year before the Great War, when to all appearance there was not acloud upon the horizon, when only a few statesmen felt "profoundlyuneasy," the secret of that uneasiness being carefully locked away intheir own breasts, and hidden from the general public--in that year of1913, in the month of March, the Twenty-fifth Lancers were quartered atthe town of Blankfield, in Yorkshire.
The Twenty-fifth was a crack regiment. Most of the officers weremembers of the aristocracy, a few of the plutocracy, that portion of theplutocracy which on account of its wealth had been adopted into asuperior world by marriage with its aristocratic daughters.
They were a fine set of clean-minded, healthy living, sporting youngfellows. They rode to hounds, they played polo when there was anygoing, they shot over the coverts of their friends, they made love toall the pretty girls they came across in a gallant and desultoryfashion, loving and riding away.
It cannot be said that they took their professional duties in tooserious a fashion. But they were brave as lions, and when the time cameto prove their mettle, none of their relatives had cause to blush fortheir record. The memories of most of them were enshrined deeply in thehearts of wailing mothers and weeping sweethearts, when the greatholocaust came.
Foremost amongst this band of gay spirits and resolute sportsmen was acertain Captain Murchison, "Hughie," as he was always called by hisintimates.
"Hughie" was not a pure aristocrat. His father, a man of fabulouswealth, was the head of the great brewing firm of Murchison, Delaroydand Co., the fourth in succession, for the big brewery had been foundedover a hundred years ago.
It is supposed, in the case of self-made men, that it requires threegenerations to make a gentleman. Anyway, the present Sir Hugh had wonhis spurs by the fact of belonging to the fourth. And he had furtherfirmly established his position by marrying Lady Gertrude Marchmont, adaughter of the Earl of Mounthaven. The Marchmonts had blue blood inprofusion, they were one of the oldest families in the Kingdom, onlyjust being beaten by such superior people as the Howards, the Talbots,and the Nevilles.
Captain Murchison was, therefore, plutocrat on the father's side,aristocrat of aristocrat on the mother's. But he did not owe hispopularity to these adventitious circumstances. The fact that he wasthe most popular man in his regiment was due to his own sterlingqualities.
In the first place, he was a man of the most unbounded generosity andthe most serene good-humour. He had captained the Eleven at Eton, andhe was one of the best shots, also one of the best polo-players, inEngland. Needless to say that he was a man's man. The fact that he wasalso equally a Woman's man can be easily explained. He boasted morethan ordinary good looks, and he had a charming, deferential way withWomen that captivated them at once.
The Twenty-fifth had a very good time at Blankfield, on the whole. Thehouses of the "county" were, of course, open to such a distinguishedregiment, but perhaps they had a rather jollier time amongst the ratherlimited circle of rich townsfolk whom they condescended to visit: thepeople who, at the best, had only a nodding acquaintance with the"county."
Murchison was a born sportsman. Hunting, polo, shooting, cricket,occupied nearly all his Waking thoughts, except those few that wereclaimed by his professional duties. Popular as he was with women, not asingle member of the weaker and more charming sex had made any realimpression on him up to the present.
He had had several flirtations with charming girls, of course: he mighthave indulged in a few sentimental passages with certain more or lessdetached, or semi-detached, married women. The latter very rarely, foralthough by no means a saint he was a very clean-minded young man, andheld rather rigid notions as to what might be done, and what ought notto be done. Anyway at this particular moment he was quite heart-whole.
And then, one day, in this rather sleepy town of Blankfield, anadventure befell him. It was not strictly a common or garden adventure,for more than one reason.
The woman, or rather girl, who was concerned in it, for looking at herin a severe light she did not appeal to be more than twenty, bore uponher no marks of the shameless adventuress. It was easy to see that shewas not a member of his own World, the World of plutocracy mingled intoaristocracy by judicious intermarriage. The "county" would not, ofcourse, open their doors to her. According to her own account, therespectable "villadom" of the sleepy old town had not called upon her,on account of the absence of convincing credentials.
The meeting happened in this way. Hugh found himself with a blankafternoon, an afternoon that had not been filled up. He could call atlots of houses and get tea. But, at this period, he was becoming alittle fed-up with the Blankfield teas, the simpering girls, the astutemothers who Wanted to take the heir of the Murchison millions off hisguard, and hook him for a son-in-law.
Coming from a long line of successful tradesmen, Hugh had rather lessbrains than he ought to have acquired by heredity. Still, he was nofool. As long as a proposition was not too complex, he could size it uppretty accurately. And he sized up the Blankfield hospitality at itstrue worth.
He walked down the High Street, and turned into the first tea-shop. Itwas a well-known establishment, and the dashing members of theTwenty-fifth were wont to invite hither for tea some of the Blankfieldmaidens who were not too particular as to chaperonage.
He expected to find here a good few of his brother officers. To hissurprise, he did not see one. But the room was very full. To a casualobserver, every table seemed occupied. He was about to turn away, whena waitress, who knew him well, touched him on the arm.
"It's quite all right, Captain Murchison,"--Hugh had arrived atseniority very early: "there's a table up there at the far end. There'sonly a young lady there, and she has very nearly finished her tea."
The young lady in question was quite young; Hugh decided from the firstswift glance at her that she could not be more than twenty. She wasexceedingly pretty, with wavy light hair and soft brown eyes. She worean air of composure remarkable in one so youthful.
The young man knew her well by sight, as did his brother officers. Shewas frequently to be seen in the High Street, flitting in and out shops,sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by a rather common-lookingperson, some ten years her senior. It was said they were brother andsister and their name was Burton.
They had arrived in Blankfield about a couple of months ago, and taken amoderate-sized house on the London Road, a little in the outskirts ofthe town. But though they had been here for these two months, they knewnobody. Not a soul had called upon them: for the villadom of Blankfieldwas very select, and had to know something about newcomers before itstretched out a Welcoming hand. About the Burtons nothing seemed to beknown, and until some reliable information was forthcoming, they wouldbe ostracised.
The shop was very crowded, and most girls of her age might have feltembarrassed by her loneliness. But, although many admiring glances werelevelled at her from the few masculine occupants, she seemed quiteunperturbed and unconscious, looking neither to the right nor the left,but taking in everything that was going on, under lowered eyelidsveiling those pretty brown eyes.
She gave him one swift glance as he sat down, and then went oncomposedly with her tea. There was nothing in the glance that waseither provocative or inviting. Of the two, Hugh felt much moreembarrassed than she did. He wondered if she was as stand-offish as shelooked. If he addressed a remark to her, would she snub him?
Anyway he determined to put it to the proof. "I do hope I am notintruding, but it was Hobson's choice, you know; this is the only vacanttable."
No, she was not going to snub him. On the contrary, she gave him a verypleasant smile, and he noted with satisfaction that her voice was arefined and pleasant one.
"There is hardly any question of intruding in a public place like this.I cannot expect them to turn customers away in order that I may sit bymyself."
It was not a bad beginning,
thought Hugh. It was evident she was notdisinclined to enter into a little desultory conversation with a man whoshe knew was a gentleman, and not likely to take undue advantage of herabsence of conventionality.
Hugh went on with growing boldness. He had often said to his great chumJack Pomfret that it was a thousand pities this pretty girl was not inBlankfield Society, she seemed so much more attractive than the othergirls who were in it.
"We haven't been introduced, of course, but I know you very well bysight. There is hardly a day that I do not meet you about here. And Iknow your name, too. You are Miss Burton, are you not? And you livewith your brother at that nice little house on the London Road."
"Quite right." Miss Burton nodded her pretty head. She added with alittle silvery laugh: "We can't be introduced, unless the waitress tookthe kind office upon herself, for I don't know a soul in the place. Wehave been here