w- 
 
 ,*,
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF CHARTS 
 MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS 
 
 UNIT. Of CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANG
 
 BY MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF CHAR1S 
 ALSO RAN 
 
 "OPEN, SESAME!" 
 THE KING'S WIDOW 
 THE LONELY STRONGHOLD 
 A CASTLE TO LET 
 THE DAUGHTER PAYS 
 THE COST OF A PROMISE 
 A DOUBTFUL CHARACTER 
 A MAKE-SHIFT MARRIAGE 
 OUT OF THE NIGHT 
 GIRL FROM NOWHERE 
 THE NOTORIOUS MISS LISLE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 THE JUDGMENT 
 OF CHARIS 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE KING'S WIDOW," "THE DAUGHTER 
 PAYS," "THE LONELY STRONGHOLD," 
 
 "A CASTLE TO LET," ETC. 
 
 NEW XBJr YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922, 
 BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF CHARIS. I 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAG* 
 
 I Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog . r. . 9 
 
 II Founding a Friendship 2O 
 
 III The Cranstoun-Browns at Home ... 28 
 
 IV A Curious Request 37 
 
 V Who is Miss Garth? 46 
 
 VI New Impressions : . 52 
 
 VII George Strachan's Heirs 60 
 
 VIII The Dinner-Party 68 
 
 IX An Exciting Scheme 80 
 
 X Comparing Notes 92 
 
 XI Colonel Morrison Wonders .... 98 
 
 XII InTeesdale . 107 
 
 XIII Changing Partners I2O 
 
 XIV Phyllis and Finance . . . . . . . 130 
 
 XV A Near Shave 140 
 
 XVI Gilbert Commits Himself 152 
 
 XVII Lord Clement Butts In ..... 159 
 
 XVIII The Misty Mountain-Top .... 167 
 
 XIX Lost! Lost! Lost! 177 
 
 XX Bid Me Good-Bye 189 
 
 2132280
 
 VI 
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTM PAGB 
 
 XXI Phyllis Explains . 198 
 
 XXII Charis Rejected . . r . . . . 208 
 
 XXIII Strachan's Displeasure 213 
 
 XXIV Charis Cuts the Knot 222 
 
 XXV Exit Miss Garth 233 
 
 XXVI Bertalda's Accident 244 
 
 XXVII Altered Circumstances 250 
 
 XXVIII A Confession 262 
 
 XXIX The Judge is Judged 273 
 
 XXX Strachan's Suggestion 283 
 
 XXXI Dreams; and the Awakening . . r . 292
 
 THE JUDGMENT 
 OF CHARIS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 LADY PORTWINE'S LAP-DOG 
 
 AS the lift shot noiselessly down to the ground- 
 floor of the Tuscany Hotel, a middle-aged man 
 stepped out of it and walked towards the entrance 
 lounge. 
 
 He was well dressed, but had the air of one who 
 has known hard work and discipline. His face was 
 rather a fine one, oval in shape, dark in complexion. 
 His iron-grey hair gave a touch of distinction to his 
 clean-cut features, and to the lines upon his counte- 
 nance, graven there by some deep-lying trouble. 
 
 Beckoning one of the page-boys, he bade him 
 watch for the arrival of an elderly lady and gentle- 
 man of the name of Cranstoun-Brown, and to con- 
 duct them to him in the drawing-room. The voice 
 in which the order was given was pleasant, but car- 
 ried the hint of an accent. 
 
 As he turned away to go to the drawing-room, a 
 newsboy came through the swing-door. Summon- 
 
 9
 
 10 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 ing him, the gentleman bought a Spectator and 
 turned aside to glance at it, seating himself upon one 
 of the couches which stood about. 
 
 A large, important-looking female was descend- 
 ing the main staircase. She was accompanied by a 
 small Pekingese dog upon a lead, which lead termi- 
 nated in a bracelet secured to the owner's wrist. 
 
 Swiftly behind her came a thin, active girl who 
 carried an attache case, and ran downstairs as though 
 she had a train to catch. Coming within sight of the 
 hall clock, she hastened yet the more, seeing neither 
 the plethoric little dog nor the link between him and 
 the ponderous lady. She caught her foot, there was 
 a mingled cry, yelp and shriek, and the girl fell the 
 whole length of the stairs, alighting almost at the 
 feet of the man with the Spectator. 
 
 He was prompt in hurrying to the rescue. The 
 hall became full of excited people running about. 
 The bulky owner of the dog had most wisely seated 
 herself when the shock came. Its impact broke her 
 bracelet, and the little cur was hurled, like the girl, 
 to the bottom of the stairs. Lady Portwine made 
 such outcry that at first she was thought to be her- 
 self injured. Moreover, she was covered with furs 
 and diamonds, and looked important. The girl was 
 evidently nobody. She wore a blue serge suit and 
 a little hat to match. 
 
 For obvious reasons, therefore, more than one 
 voice was heard indignantly to declare that the acci- 
 dent had been the girl's fault entirely. The man 
 with the iron-grey hair had meanwhile lifted her
 
 Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog II 
 
 carefully from the ground. She was not uncon- 
 scious, but breathless and bewildered. 
 
 "Oh !" she cried, as he placed her upon the lounge. 
 "What on earth have I done? What happened?" 
 
 "Never mind," said the kind voice with the accent. 
 "What matters is the extent of your hurt. May I 
 take off your hat?" 
 
 He did so, deftly. The clerk, who had left his 
 desk to investigate the affair, seeing that she was 
 sitting up and speaking, turned to the more impor- 
 tant matter of Lady Portwine's outraged feelings 
 and the extent of her pedigree dog's injuries. She 
 and Sir Jacob had occupied an expensive suite at 
 the Tuscany ever since their phenomenal rise of for- 
 tune owing to a deal with the Government in South 
 American carcasses during the war. She was ob- 
 viously to be conciliated; and for some minutes 
 George Strachan had the monopoly of the person 
 who was really hurt. 
 
 The girl was trying to laugh, though shivering 
 and gasping. The hat had saved her head from 
 anything worse than a purple bump which was 
 rapidly rising under the loose rings of shining hair 
 upon her forehead. But when she attempted to raise 
 her arms in the instinctive feminine desire to arrange 
 her head-gear, she uttered a cry of pain. 
 
 "My arm!" she muttered, "my left arm! I'm 
 afraid it's sprained, or something. How perfectly 
 sickening! I'm a typist, as it happens, and I have 
 to type a dozen folios by four o'clock." 
 
 Strachan was interested. There was a spon-
 
 12 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 taneity about that phrase, "How perfectly sicken- 
 ing!" which enlisted his sympathy. 
 
 "Most annoying," said he. "You certainly can't 
 use that arm. Look how your wrist is swelling ! I 
 had better take you to a doctor and get it bound 
 up." 
 
 Her lips twisted a little as she nursed the injured 
 limb. 
 
 "Don't you trouble," said she, between half-shut 
 teeth. "Not so bad as a leg would have been. I 
 can walk in a minute. Then I'll go and . . . find 
 a doctor." 
 
 "No such thing," said he, with kind authority. 
 "Certain to be a doctor somewhere about in this 
 hotel. Lie back a while and get your breath while 
 I say a word to the authorities." 
 
 The management, convinced of two things first 
 that the girl was really hurt, and next that Mr. 
 Strachan was showing interest in her case became 
 suddenly attentive. She was taken into a private 
 room, a glass of water was brought, and the doctor, 
 who had already rendered first aid to Fido, discov- 
 ered that he was at leisure to attend to her wrist. 
 While he was doing this, Mr. Strachan was advised 
 of the arrival of his guests, and went out into the 
 hall to receive them. 
 
 Strachan had been looking forward to this meet- 
 ing with almost painful expectation. His immediate 
 feeling was disappointment. He saw a stout, elderly 
 couple, elaborately got up for the occasion. The 
 lady was large. She wore purple silk and expensive
 
 Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog 13 
 
 furs. She had small eyes and a heavy jowl. Her 
 husband beside her conveyed the impression of being 
 almost as unimportant as the male spider is in com- 
 parison with the female. He seemed sheltering be- 
 hind the expansiveness with which his wife grasped 
 her cousin's hand in two fat yellow-gloved paws. 
 
 "Why, George George Strachan! After all 
 these years! Back in England! We could hardly 
 believe it when we got your letter could we, Pa? 
 Well, what a pleasure! Have you come home to 
 stay?" 
 
 Strachan's soft dark eyes were wistful as he con- 
 templated his cousin Clara. It could be seen that 
 he was anxious to like his kinswoman to think well 
 of her if he could. 
 
 "I can't answer your question yet," he said gravely. 
 "The old country has changed since I left it one 
 has dropped out " 
 
 "Of course," stammered Mr. Cranstoun-Brown 
 solicitously, "we realise how the painful circum- 
 stances must must we understand full well that 
 such bereavement " 
 
 George Strachan could not bear so heavy a touch 
 upon wounds as yet but half healed. His brow con- 
 tracted, but he replied quite pleasantly: 
 
 "We can talk of such things by and by. Just now 
 I want to ask if you will mind waiting five minutes 
 or so before sitting down to lunch? There has just 
 been an accident here a young lady fell downstairs 
 over the string of one of those detestable little 
 lap-curs and has hurt herself a good deal. I want
 
 14 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 to persuade her, as soon as she feels well enough, to 
 come and eat something with us." 
 
 "A young lady!" cried Clara Brown, in a tone 
 which Strachan found distasteful. Cranstoun-Brown 
 was wiser than his wife perhaps merely because he 
 was kinder. 
 
 "Fell down these stairs, you say?" he echoed, 
 with some assumption of interest "A pretty severe 
 fall, that. Who is she?" 
 
 "That I don't know, as yet," was the reply, "ex- 
 cept that her name is Garth and she is a professional 
 typist. If you and Clara will excuse me a moment, 
 I will go and see what the doctor thinks of her." 
 
 He saw them comfortably seated and went back 
 to the room he had left. 
 
 The doctor had finished his work and departed. 
 The girl was lying back in a large chair which she 
 did not nearly fill. Her face was wan and her eyes 
 closed; but at sound of the opening door she un- 
 closed them and summoned a smile, which struck him 
 as infinitely pathetic. He found her extraordinarily 
 attractive, though he could hardly say that she was 
 pretty. Her skin was fine, her features, though not 
 regular, were delicately cut, and her mouth was much 
 tucked in at the corners, disclosing dear little teeth 
 when her smile broke out. She was entirely free 
 from affectation, and answered his questions nat- 
 urally. 
 
 "Well," said he presently, "I guess you feel ready 
 for a mouthful of lunch?" 
 
 "Thanks. I'll go over the road to a teashop in a
 
 Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog 15 
 
 minute or two. I have to find a friend to do my work 
 for me." 
 
 "Leave that to me. I will send your notes to be 
 copied, while you are having lunch here." 
 
 She smiled. "You are most kind, but that's pre- 
 posterous. I should need to have my lunch cut up 
 for me." 
 
 "I shall be here to cut it up," said Strachan 
 simply. 
 
 She laughed. "A bun doesn't need cutting up. 
 Do you think I usually lunch on rump steak?" 
 
 "You don't look like it, but I have no idea what 
 people eat in England since the war. I've only been 
 back a week from Canada." 
 
 "Canada!" she cried, on a note almost of tri- 
 umph, adding, as he looked interrogative, "I knew 
 you were different, somehow." 
 
 "Different?" 
 
 As she opened her mouth to reply, the door 
 opened and a young woman in a very smart black 
 silk frock sailed in. She glanced from the lady's 
 bandaged wrist to the gentleman as if puzzled, but 
 concluded that she had better deliver her message. 
 
 "Lady Portwine wishes me to ask how the the 
 young person is, and to tell her that Her Ladyship 
 does not intend to to take any steps any proceed- 
 ings, I should say." 
 
 Strachan was watching the little face whose out- 
 line gleamed so purely against the dim velvet back- 
 ground of the easy chair. He marked how the 
 dimples quivered about the corners of the tucked-in
 
 16 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 mouth. The airs and graces of the lady's maid were 
 evidently almost too much for Miss Garth's self- 
 control. He turned to the waiting messenger. 
 
 "Do I gather that Lady Portwine maintains that 
 the accident was er this young lady's fault?" 
 
 The maid looked taken aback. "She was running 
 downstairs at a great rate," she murmured. 
 
 "On the other hand," went on Mr. Strachan, "it 
 is not a wise thing to walk up and down a public 
 staircase with a very small animal on a lead. Miss 
 Garth has been hurt, and her injuries will interfere 
 with her professional duties. I witnessed the acci- 
 dent, and I do not think the courts would hold Miss 
 Garth to have been in fault." 
 
 The maid's expression revealed that the same idea 
 had been put before Her Ladyship. 
 
 "Do I understand that the young lady thinks 
 she has any cause for complaint, sir?" 
 
 Perhaps it was the highly effective pause before 
 the maid brought out the word "lady" which caused 
 Miss Garth to break into laughter. 
 
 "Of course not. It was half my fault," she said 
 impetuously, and added mischievously, "I hope the 
 little rat was not hurt." 
 
 "You are the only person who was hurt, I con- 
 jecture," said Strachan. To his sensitive perceptions 
 the girl's demeanour suggested that she herself had 
 been used to command the services of a maid, and 
 that the attitude of this one tickled her hugely. A 
 pang of sympathy shot through him. Was this a
 
 Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog 17 
 
 specimen of what Punch laughingly refers to as "the 
 new poor"? 
 
 Evidently the maid was a little alarmed by the 
 impressive manner of Strachan's declaration that 
 he had been a witness of the accident. She lost some 
 of her arrogance, and stammered out that she was 
 bidden to say that Her Ladyship would like to com- 
 pensate the young lady for her loss of time and 
 the doctor's services. 
 
 At this, Miss Garth, with a muttered exclama- 
 tion of "What cheek!" came to her feet. Mr. 
 Strachan, without hesitation, stepped in front of 
 her. 
 
 "Miss Garth's hand is so injured that she cannot 
 use a typewriter, and so is unable to execute the com- 
 mission on which she was engaged when she fell 
 downstairs. She must pay a substitute to do her 
 work " 
 
 The maid promptly produced some Treasury 
 notes, and having thrust them into his hand, mut- 
 tered that she would report to Her Ladyship that 
 the young er lady was satisfied, and hurried out 
 of the room. Strachan was conscious that a very 
 irate young woman was standing just behind him. 
 
 "Well, upon my word," she began indignantly, 
 but burst once more into laughter as he turned and 
 faced her with an irresistible twist of the mouth. 
 
 "I take too much upon myself, you were about to 
 say. That's nonsense. Am I wrong in concluding 
 that you work for your living?" 
 
 "Certainly I work for my living."
 
 1 8 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Then you can't afford to lose work?" 
 "N no." 
 
 "Why shouldn't this woman, bursting with money 
 to waste on lap-dogs and kindred follies, help you 
 when, partly at least by her fault, you have been 
 crippled? I suppose you know that hand won't be 
 serviceable for some while yet?" 
 
 She admitted it grudgingly. 
 
 "Yet you are too proud to accept this little bit 
 of compensation?" 
 
 His voice and manner as he handed over the 
 money made it impossible to take offence. He had 
 a hint of the American "vurry," and for "can't" he 
 said neither "carn't" nor "can't," but "caan't," 
 which was somehow fascinating. 
 
 "And now for lunch," he went on calmly, having 
 silenced her objections. "I have a most efficient 
 chaperon outside there in the hall, and I hope you'll 
 honour me by being my guest. Where are those 
 documents of yours ? While we eat, I'll send a mes- 
 senger to the nearest bureau to get them done." 
 
 "You are the most domineering person," she 
 smiled, her lovely eyes full of gratitude, "but indeed 
 I can't. I don't feel anything like well enough to 
 lunch in a restaurant. I must have a taxi and go 
 home. Please find me one, and I'll depart, blessing 
 your name which I don't know." 
 
 "It's Strachan," he answered, "George Strachan. 
 I guess I'll have to let you take your way. Sit down 
 there, and I'll find a taxi and call you." Cutting 
 short her protestations, he shut the door upon her
 
 Lady Portwine's Lap-Dog 19 
 
 and went up to his two lunchless relatives, seated in 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 "Clara," said he, "I want that you and Joe should 
 go right into the restaurant and begin your lunch. 
 That girl's not fit to go home alone, and I must take 
 her. Follow me I'll give you in charge of one of 
 the best waiters in London, and I'll be with you 
 again before you've got to the joint." 
 
 Disregarding their protests and suggestions, he 
 swept them both off, saw them comfortably settled 
 at the reserved table, and hastened back to his 
 charge.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FOUNDING A FRIENDSHIP 
 
 WHEN Clara Strachan, a not uncomely and 
 extremely masterful young woman, married 
 Joe Brown, it had been for the quite simple reason 
 that, so far as she could see, it was a case of Joe 
 or nobody. In one respect she had made a wise 
 choice, for the little man was not without commer- 
 cial aptitude. Although his business was a very 
 small affair, he prospered mildly, and the years of 
 the war had rendered him more definitely pros- 
 perous. 
 
 His increased profits in no wise represented 
 wealth; but he had taken a roomy house in the suburb 
 of Streatwood, and had ceased to be "J ose P n C. 
 Brown" on his visiting cards, and become "J. Cran- 
 stoun-Brown." 
 
 The pair had three children, a son and two daugh- 
 ters; and the return from Canada of their cousin, 
 George Strachan, was full of interest to them; for 
 in his case no qualification was required when you 
 called him a rich man. He was a millionaire, and 
 the war had left him quite alone in the world. 
 
 Seven years before they had written sympathetic- 
 ally to condole with him on the tragic death of his 
 wife and daughter in a sleigh accident. His son was 
 
 20
 
 Founding a Friendship 21 
 
 left to be his comfort and companion; but Captain 
 Ronald Strachan had fallen in the hour of triumph 
 in the final victorious advance of the Allies, a 
 month before the armistice. 
 
 The visit to England of the childless widower 
 might be fraught with most important consequences 
 to the house of Cranstoun-Brown. Seated at table 
 and plied with hors d'ceuvres, the pair considered 
 the situation. 
 
 The side-whiskers which adorned Joseph's round t 
 good-tempered face made him look out of date. He 
 had a habit of intently perusing his wife's features 
 and expression actually with the object of ascer- 
 taining the state of her temper, but apparently in 
 ever-fresh wonder as to what he had been thinking 
 about when he allowed her to appropriate him. 
 
 Time had treated Clara unkindly. Her square 
 jaw, now that she was stout, had developed into a 
 forbidding jowl; and her fleshy cheeks made her 
 small eyes recede into her head, and produced an 
 expression of cunning which was not really deserved. 
 She was a good wife and mother according to her 
 lights, and her ambitions were centred upon the 
 future of her children. 
 
 "How long is it since George landed?" she in- 
 quired of her husband. 
 
 "Let me see, we had his letter on the Tuesday, 
 I think yes, Tuesday it was, for I remember I had 
 to go over that day to see Bates in Tokenhouse 
 Yard " 
 
 "Yes, yes, and to-day is Monday." The prattling
 
 22 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 reminiscence on his side, the ruthless interruption, 
 on hers, were both characteristic. "A bare week," 
 she reflected, "and already he has struck up a friend- 
 ship with a girl. Picked her up here in the hotel, 
 do you suppose ?" 
 
 "Oh, my dear," in a shocked manner, "I conclude 
 he knew her in Canada his wife must have known 
 her in Canada " 
 
 "Joseph,, don't be a fool. He says she is a typist." 
 
 "Yes, yes, quite so; but for all that she might 
 have known him formerly in better days," his voice 
 trailed off and grew vague as his wife snorted. Her 
 only son had now for some years been marriageable, 
 and she nursed a deep suspicion of all young ladies 
 without means. 
 
 "What you and I have to consider is not George's 
 morals, but our children's future," she remarked. 
 "If he has made a protegee of some girl, well, it 
 can't be helped. But we may be able to prevent 
 his marrying again." 
 
 "I don't see what difference that would make," 
 said Joseph simply but sensibly. "There's no settled 
 property. He can leave his money to anybody 
 wife or no wife." 
 
 "I think we may venture to suppose that as yet he 
 has made no will. I am convinced that he has taken 
 this journey to England to get into touch with his 
 family." She heaved a big sigh. "What a merciful 
 thing for us that poor Emily has no children." 
 
 " 'M, wonderful that is, Nicholson being a parson 
 and all. They might have had nine or ten it was
 
 Founding a Friendship 23 
 
 to be expected whereas our three have practically 
 a clear field." 
 
 There was a moment's silence while both parental 
 minds made excursions into the future of Gilbert, 
 Phyllis, and Veronica. 
 
 "You didn't catch sight of her, did you?" asked 
 Clara presently. "George is fairly simple, or seems 
 so and the lady typewriter is a useful pose." 
 
 "George's simplicity," said Mr. Brown, who was 
 becoming mellowed by his excellent lunch, "has 
 taken him far, financially." 
 
 "Which doesn't prove that he knows anything at 
 all about women," snapped the lady promptly. 
 
 Meanwhile, Miss Garth found herself she 
 hardly knew how seated in a taxi-cab with Mr. 
 Strachan at her side. 
 
 "This is all wrong," she said, in earnest protest. 
 "You have left guests for me a stranger! What 
 will they think?" 
 
 He was evidently surprised. "Why, isn't it the 
 natural thing to do? You look pretty white, and 
 I couldn't let you go drifting off alone you might 
 never have reached home." He was musing upon 
 the address she had given him that of the Trenby 
 Hostel, a big residential club for young gentlewomen 
 who worked professionally. He knew little of such 
 places, but concluded that it could not be the girl's 
 own home. "Have you no home of your own?" he 
 asked compassionately. 
 
 "No home available," was her swift reply, accom-
 
 24 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 panied by so hot a blush that he felt there must 
 be something painful in her mind in this connection. 
 Her voice repelled further questioning he was 
 sensitive to tones. 
 
 "Will you find anybody in this hostel place able 
 to look after you?" he ventured in a dissatisfied 
 voice. 
 
 She laughed reassuringly. "Why, of course. We 
 all look after each other there. We are a jolly lot, 
 and Miss Kay, the Head, is no end good to us. We 
 are allowed to invite our friends both sexes to 
 come and see us. Will you come to tea one day if I 
 invite you?" she asked, as it were experimentally. 
 
 He returned her look with those serious eyes, 
 whose youth and darkness made pleasant contrast 
 with his brown, lined face and iron-grey hair. "If 
 you are inviting me in the way young ladies do 
 broadcast, meaning nothing you are making a mis- 
 take. I mean to come, and I would like you to fix 
 a day." 
 
 She was perhaps a trifle hustled by this prompti- 
 tude; but the tranquillity of his demeanour reassured 
 her. He was or seemed completely unconscious 
 of doing anything that was not perfectly normal. 
 
 "I did mean it," she said intrepidly. "Will you 
 come next Monday?" 
 
 "Thank you. I shall not forget. But I must do 
 myself the honour of making inquiries earlier than 
 that, and if I do not presume I should like to urge 
 you to go to bed the moment you arrive. These 
 accidents have a curiously unexpected effect some-
 
 Founding a Friendship 25 
 
 times, in the way of a shock to the system, not at 
 first recognised. I hope you will not suffer in that 
 way. Your arm will probably require massage. My 
 own wife once sprained her wrist, skating, and in her 
 case massage reduced the swelling and made the 
 wrist supple in a very short time." After a pause 
 he added, "If my daughter had lived, she would 
 have been just about your age." 
 
 Miss Garth was completely reassured. Mr. 
 Strachan's wife was now in all probability lunching 
 with the abandoned guests at the Tuscany. "You 
 have lost your daughter," she murmured impulsively. 
 "I may say I am sorry for you, may I not?" 
 
 "I want you to be sorry for me," was the de- 
 liberate answer. "That is why I told you. I lost 
 the girlie and her mother on the same day. Since 
 then, the war has taken away my only son. I am 
 quite alone in the world. I hope you pity me." 
 
 "Pity you? ... It must be hard to go on living 
 after such bludgeonings of fate. I can't think how 
 you bear it!" 
 
 "I don't very well know myself," was his answer, 
 patient with a dreariness which sounded as if within 
 measurable distance of despair. "But if it is any 
 comfort to you to know it, you have helped me a bit 
 to-day. For my lost girl's sake I want to be good to 
 all girls, but especially to those engaged in that fight 
 with the world which we call earning a living. I 
 would not thrust my private affairs on you at such 
 short notice, but I wanted you to know what a
 
 26 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 paternal heart I have, deprived of all chance to do 
 any fathering any more." 
 
 Out of the sympathetic silence her sweet voice 
 came timidly at last. 
 
 "Mr. and Mrs. Brown your cousins they have 
 children, I suppose?" 
 
 He smiled a little. "They have. But, conversely, 
 their children have Mr. and Mrs. Brown. It is 
 hardly conceivable that they should want me, though, 
 unfortunately it is conceivable that they should want 
 my money." 
 
 "I wish," she said warmly, "that I could help 
 you as you have helped me to-day. You have turned 
 a misfortune into something almost like an adven- 
 ture, and one is always grateful for that. Life is a 
 bit monotonous for a worker. Here we are already. 
 Only a short drive; and, you see, I am all right" 
 with mischief. "I could have done quite well with- 
 out you." 
 
 His eyes lit up in response with a deep glow. 
 
 "I shall expect you to tea on Monday at four 
 o'clock don't forget!" she admonished him as he 
 helped her carefully out and rang the bell. "And 
 now dash back to the hotel and make your peace 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Brown." 
 
 A cold wind swept down the grey street and 
 whirled dry dust against the inhospitable concrete 
 steps of the barrack-like building. Over her shoul- 
 ders she laughed at him, her face alight with an 
 expression in which gratitude was mingled with 
 humour, and both with a further something which
 
 Founding a Friendship 27 
 
 he did not remember ever to have met before a 
 nameless attribute which he longed to analyse. 
 
 "I had not believed," he remarked, "that there 
 were girls like you in London." 
 
 "Thousands and thousands of us," she assured 
 him as she disappeared indoors. 
 
 "I take the liberty to doubt it," he whispered to 
 himself as he lost sight of her.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE CRANSTOUN-BROWNS AT HOME 
 
 pretty name of the Cranstoun-Brown resi- 
 J_ dence in Streatwood was "Redmays." It had 
 that one supreme merit which most such houses 
 lack, of being named suitably. There actually was 
 a line of pink hawthorns just within the iron rail- 
 ings which fenced the carriage sweep off from the 
 road. 
 
 In the garden borders hyacinths and daffodils were 
 already past the glory of their blooming. The lilacs 
 were in bud; the pink mays would not be long be- 
 fore they showed their rosy heart. 
 
 Within, a fairly commodious entrance hall lay 
 between a dining-room on the one hand and a draw- 
 ing-room on the other. The stairs were at the back, 
 and behind the dining-room, looking towards the 
 garden, was a morning-room which was the resort 
 of all the family except on occasions when there was 
 company. 
 
 In a shabby old arm-chair Phyllis Brown now 
 lounged, her feet within the fender, a thrilling novel 
 in her hand. Tea was spread upon a table behind 
 her, but nobody had as yet appeared to share it with 
 her. She was a substantially built girl, not ill-look- 
 ing, but heavy in type, with coarse hands and thick 
 
 28
 
 The Cranstoun- Browns at Home 29 
 
 ankles. Her hair was elaborately arranged, and her 
 attire showed that she bestowed a good deal of 
 attention upon her appearance. 
 
 The sound of the hall-door opening and closing 
 was heard, an umbrella rattled in the stand, an ener- 
 getic footfall approached, and the second Miss 
 Brown entered. Veronica was several years younger 
 than Phyllis, long and lithe, with a pale face and 
 keen dark eyes, which were really beautiful had they 
 been less hard in expression. 
 
 "Oh, my word!" said she, dropping into a chair 
 and attacking the teapot with vigour. "Commit- 
 tees! Committees! This thing'll turn my hair 
 grey." 
 
 "Why d'you do it, then?" grunted her sister 
 shortly. "Nobody asked you to." 
 
 "Nobody asked me! I like that! When the 
 whole Association came begging and praying " 
 
 "Nonsense. They'd have done much better if 
 you'd refused. They'd have got Mrs. Varick then." 
 
 "She wouldn't have taken it," cried Vee passion- 
 ately. "She's too lazy. She wouldn't have put in 
 the work I do!" 
 
 "You've only gone in for it because the war un- 
 settled you," observed Phyllis calmly. She uncov- 
 ered the hot scones and helped herself liberally. 
 "You got used to flying all over the place, and now 
 you can't sit down quietly at home. Well all 
 right! Do as you please. But don't make a virtue 
 of it." 
 
 "What's put you in such a beastly temper?" de-
 
 30 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 manded Vera, dabbing her buttered scone with 
 marmalade. 
 
 "I'm not in a temper. I've had a very comfy 
 afternoon, with Ma out of the way," replied the 
 elder girl, stretching. "This book is jolly good. 
 Scrumptious love-scenes. You ought to read it " 
 
 "No time for tommy-rot. Is the duplicator in 
 order? I've got seventy notices to print off this 
 evening." 
 
 The hall-door was heard to bang, and the sisters 
 looked at each other. 
 
 "Never Ma back ! I thought the American cousin 
 would be safe to take her to a matinee," murmured 
 Vee. "Can it be Pa?" 
 
 "No. He's going to stay in town for his company 
 dinner. It is Ma," replied Phyllis, listening; and as 
 she spoke, Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown walked in. 
 
 "Hallo!" said Vee, pouring out another cup of 
 tea. "So Cousin George didn't suggest a theatre?" 
 
 "No; he didn't. We lunched too late," was the 
 reply, in a tone which caused the girl to study her 
 parent's face critically. 
 
 "Disappointed, Ma? Did he give himself airs? 
 No use for his suburban family?" 
 
 "On the contrary. He is most anxious to know 
 you all. He suggests that he should come here on 
 a visit." 
 
 "Houp-la!" cried Vee, pushing back her chair. 
 "When is he coming? Fate send us a parlourmaid 
 before then!" 
 
 Mrs. Brown sat wrapped in cogitation. "It won't
 
 The Cranstoun-Browns at Home 31 
 
 be quite yet. He seems to have a good deal of busi- 
 ness to transact. I think I had better ask Foster 
 to stay on, don't you?" 
 
 "Raise her wages, without hesitation," cried Vee, 
 and at the same moment 
 
 "Describe Cousin George. Is he tremendously 
 Yankee? Does he carry much sail?" demanded 
 Phyllis. 
 
 "Not at all. He is grave and quiet. He doesn't 
 seem to have got over his bereavement yet. He 
 won't speak of it." 
 
 "Well, I suppose it's up to us to cheer him with 
 our pretty girlish wiles," remarked Vera, taking the 
 last bit of teacake. 
 
 Her mother darted a suspicious glance at her from 
 those eyes which in their hardness and smallness 
 suggested onyx beads. The gift of irony had been 1 
 omitted from Mrs. Brown's mental make-up. Her 
 youngest daughter was an enigma which she some- 
 times felt that she disliked. "None of your show- 
 ing off, Vee, when your cousin comes," she said 
 heavily. "Canteen jokes won't be appreciated. This 
 is serious, mind. He is very rich, and but for your 
 Aunt Nicholson we are his only kin." 
 
 "What about his wife's family?" asked Vee 
 briskly. "He may have a dozen nephews and nieces 
 out in Canada." 
 
 "He hasn't, however. Did you never hear how 
 he married his wife out of an orphanage?" 
 
 "She has my gratitude. Few women are so con- 
 siderate of their husband's family," retorted Vee.
 
 32 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Well, let's arrange how we can best make ourselves 
 disagreeable to him. I'm glad he's grave and quiet. 
 That kind of old buffer generally likes me. I shall 
 be flippant, and he will think me witty." 
 
 "You seem to forget that I'm the elder," said 
 Phyllis. "My turn first." 
 
 "He wouldn't be likely to bestow all his cash on 
 one and leave out the others." 
 
 "Ah, but what if he should marry one of us?" 
 asked Phyllis triumphantly, rising and looking at 
 herself in the chimney glass. "He's only our cousm 
 removed, which is nothing, and he's not too old to 
 marry again." 
 
 "My dear, he's fifty !" cried her mother. 
 
 Vera laughed. "But old Phyl is right. He is 
 just the age when, if they do these things, they do 
 them with a rush. He feels he is not too old for a 
 bit of pleasure, but he knows how jolly soon he will 
 be ! However, Phyl, don't suppose I am going to 
 let you pocket him without a struggle." 
 
 "How vulgar, how deplorable !" cried their 
 mother, rising with the rustle of offended delicacy. 
 "I am sure I never brought you up to talk like this. 
 That odious war " 
 
 "Oh, leave out the poor war!" impatiently from 
 Phyl. "It's just Vee's University training." 
 
 "You could have gone to Oxford if you had 
 wanted to, Phyl, so don't start grousing about that." 
 
 "I never enter upon a war of words with you, 
 Vee," said Phyl, with dignity. "I don't claim to
 
 The Cranstoun-Browns at Home 33 
 
 possess a bitter tongue, and I don't want the last 
 word." 
 
 Vee laughed softly as she picked up her furs and 
 gloves and walked out of the room, remarking that 
 grapes were sometimes sour. Her mother looked 
 darkly after her. 
 
 "I do wish Vee would not go on as she does." 
 
 "You needn't be afraid," replied Phyllis with 
 bitterness. "Vee knows which side her bread is 
 buttered. When Cousin George comes, she will be 
 an angel trust her!" 
 
 "I never thought to find myself wishing that one 
 of you would marry, but I do wish it. Nothing but 
 bicker, bicker." 
 
 "Oh well, come, Mother, Vee takes herself off 
 to this precious secretaryship every day we don't 
 get too much of her. It must fall to me to take 
 Cousin George for walks, and to call upon our 
 friends. I hope we shall be able to amuse him." 
 Her voice did not suggest any doubt of her ability 
 to do so. 
 
 "We must give a dinner-party, I suppose," mused 
 her mother aloud, "and since the war I'm grown out 
 of practice ! I suppose I shall have to pay the waiter 
 double, as well as the frightful cost of everything 
 else. Well I must think it over. Is Gil in or out 
 this evening?" 
 
 "Going out directly after dinner." 
 
 "Then tell Foster no fire in the drawing-room." 
 The lady paused, her expression lowering. "Gil is 
 always out."
 
 34 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "No wonder," muttered Phyl indistinctly. 
 
 Her mother turned on her. "You say, 'No 
 wonder'?" 
 
 "There's no place here where he can sit and smoke 
 comfortably, or ask a friend to join him." 
 
 "Upon my word, Phyllis!" 
 
 "Well, Ma! Here is Gil, who was a temporary 
 captain, commanding men and earning quite big 
 money, and you expect him to settle down again to 
 live at home as if he was eighteen! Mrs. Varick 
 is so sorry for him." 
 
 Mrs. Brown's eyes snapped. "Oh, is Mrs. Varick 
 sorry for him?" said she slowly. "Well, that would 
 be no bad thing, would it?" 
 
 "Jolly nice," agreed Phyllis; "but she wouldn't 
 why ever should she? Poor old Gil! And she 
 with her money and her beauty and she must be 
 four or five years older than he is." 
 
 "Mrs. Varick and her brother are quite the nicest 
 people in Streatwood," remarked Mrs. Brown 
 thoughtfully. "We must ask them to meet George 
 Strachan." 
 
 An hour later the son of the house arrived home 
 and admitted himself with the latch-key for which 
 he had successfully contended when his military 
 career came to a close. He was a big man, holding 
 himself with the well-drilled air of the ex-officer, 
 but somewhat clumsy in type, nevertheless. He was 
 clean-shaven and had inherited his mother's heavy 
 jaw. Phyllis was still lounging by the morning-room
 
 The Cranstoun-Browns at Home 35 
 
 fire when he peeped in, and he remarked with sar- 
 casm, "Keeping the fire warm as usual." 
 
 "Urn !" was the reply, the young lady's eyes being 
 glued to the love scene on the page before her. 
 
 "Mater back? Met the Splendid Cousin all 
 right?" 
 
 This theme was of interest enough to induce her 
 to close her book. "Yes; they met all right, but she 
 doesn't seem particularly bucked over it. However, 
 she says he was very cordial and is coming down 
 here to stay with us." 
 
 "Perhaps he was a bit let down," suggested Gil. 
 "The mater hasn't got younger and more beautiful 
 since he last saw her." 
 
 "You'll have to pull yourself together, Gil, and 
 do the devoted son while the Ontario millionaire is 
 about. Ma is on the war-path about your never 
 being at home of an evening." 
 
 The man's brow darkened. 
 
 "I'm about fed," said he, "and so I shall say to 
 her if she tackles me. I wish this man would find 
 room for me in his lumber business. I'd chuck my 
 present job in two twos if he'd take me out there." 
 
 Phyl yawned. Her brother and his concerns were 
 not, and never had been, of any interest to her. 
 
 "From what men tell me, I shouldn't advise 
 Canada if you want to have a good time," she re- 
 marked. "However, if he falls in love with me, and 
 takes me over there when he goes back, I'll promise 
 to do what I can for you." 
 
 "You're jolly kind," with sarcasm. "I expect to
 
 36 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 enjoy the spectacle of my entire family grovelling 
 to the golden calf." 
 
 "You'll be as bad as any of us," was the retort. 
 "But I'm not afraid of you. It's Vee who will lead 
 him on a string, unless I can be too quick for her." 
 
 He laughed. "You'll have to get up pretty early 
 in the morning to get ahead of Vee. By the way, 
 where is she ? I want to ask her if Mrs. Varick gave 
 her a message *or me."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A CURIOUS REQUEST 
 
 WHEN George Strachan made his visit of in- 
 quiry at the Trenby Hostel, he was shown 
 into a big, gaunt drawing-room. 
 
 At that hour about midday the room was un- 
 tenanted, and the emptiness and the full daylight 
 accentuated its shabbiness and drabness of tint. 
 Manlike, he ignored the fact that the elderly chairs 
 were comfortable ; that the floor, with its loose rugs, ( 
 could easily be made ready for an impromptu dance; 
 and that the platform at one end, holding a piano, 
 would become a stage on the mere dropping of a 
 curtain. 
 
 These, the main concomitants for the happiness 
 of a contingent of lively girls, forced to sit still in 
 offices all day, were duly present at the Hostel. The 
 millionaire, however, thought only: 
 
 "And this is all the home the poor child has !" 
 
 Miss Garth was up and dressed, and she did not 
 keep him waiting. He had been wondering, as he 
 came along, whether his remembrance of her was 
 unduly favourable. But when she entered, he knew 
 it was the other way about. She did not wear her 
 office suit now, but was clothing in a most becoming 
 shade of powder blue, her crisped hair snooded with 
 
 37
 
 38 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 a band of velvet the same shade, so as to conceal the 
 big bruise on her brow. Her left arm was in a sling, 
 and she looked somewhat pale; but he saw, in one 
 swift appraisement, her distinction, her fineness of 
 quality, the subtle nature of her charm. 
 
 "Good morning, Good Samaritan," said she mis- 
 chievously; but she coloured as she gave him her 
 hand. 
 
 "Samaritan 1 Somebody outside the pale, am I? 
 Well, I must try and live down that reproach." 
 
 "Ah, you know what I mean ! You came to the 
 rescue of a total stranger not even of your own 
 nation." 
 
 "Not at all. I am as English as you are. I went 
 out to the Dominion many years ago; but I was 
 born in Westmorland." 
 
 She gave a start and her face kindled. "In West- 
 morland! Why, so was I " she broke off so 
 
 suddenly as to leave the impression that she re- 
 gretted having imparted the information. 
 
 "I hope you think that constitutes a basis for 
 friendship?" he ventured. 
 
 She liked the deliberate sentences he used. His 
 foreign intonation gave weight to his most ordinary 
 utterances. She admitted that their community of 
 county did constitute a basis for friendship; but 
 nevertheless she switched off the talk at once to an- 
 other topic. 
 
 "Before we chat comfortably," said she, "I want 
 to put things right. I was feeling so unwell on the 
 lay of my accident that I could not collect my
 
 A Curious Request 39 
 
 thoughts. I know you incurred some expenses for 
 me, and I want to get out of your debt." 
 
 He looked so hurt that she had almost said: "I 
 beg your pardon." 
 
 "I shall feel rather badly if you will not let me 
 do that very little for you. Just now you informed 
 me that you regard me as a Samaritan. Let me 
 point out that the gentleman in question was allowed 
 to put down the price of the sick man's hotel, not to 
 mention the taxi I should say, the ass." 
 
 Miss Garth looked under her eyelashes to make 
 sure that this was not serious, and detected the genial 
 curve of the strong lips. 
 
 "I wish I hadn't made that silly comparison. I 
 see the cases are not a bit alike. That sick man had 
 been robbed." 
 
 "So had you of one of your hands! No, the 
 wounded man in the story was not proud, and you 
 are. Come now! If I let you call me a Samaritan, 
 surely I may claim his privileges?" 
 
 She opened her mouth for further protest, but, 
 faced by something in his eyes, she never made it. 
 "Oh," said she, "you really are impracticable !" 
 
 "Yes, I've been told before that I'm a tough prop- 
 osition," was his amused rejoinder. "But anyway, 
 I hope you are better." 
 
 "I'm quite well . . . were your friends in a very 
 bad temper when you got back?" 
 
 "Not very. The food was good. That mollified 
 them some. Then we talked. It seems to me that
 
 40 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 in England people work very hard for mighty poor 
 results," he commented meditatively. 
 
 "I suppose that's true. We girl clerks are better 
 paid than we used to be, but our pay hardly keeps 
 pace with the price of things. We can only just get 
 along, and we can hardly put by for old age without 
 forgoing everything that makes youth gay. I think 
 there is much excuse for such girls if they break 
 away. When a chance comes a temptation that 
 seems to offer something different they leap for it, 
 and only find out what a fraud it is, far, far too late." 
 
 He looked gravely sympathetic. u ln my office in 
 Ontario, my stenographers are paid a living wage 
 from the first," he said. 
 
 The girl laughed. "I had better go out to 
 Ontario." 
 
 "You might do worse. But there is another ar- 
 rangement I would like you to consider. I came 
 here to put it before you. This is no Good Samari- 
 tan stunt, but a business proposition. I am here in 
 London without a secretary, and I want one badly. 
 Until I got over this side, I did not realise what a 
 scourge the correspondence was going to be. I would 
 like you to be my secretary. If not you, then I must 
 engage a stranger. But I would rather have you, 
 for a particular reason." 
 
 "Yes?" she was greatly interested. 
 
 "Well," said he, "as I have told you, I am a 
 widower and childless. I am also counted a rich 
 man. I have by way of relatives, only two cousins, 
 Mrs. Nicholson and Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown. I in-
 
 A Curious Request 41 
 
 tend to pay visits to both these cousins. Mrs. 
 Nicholson has no children, but Mrs. Cranstoun- 
 Brown has three a son and two daughters. I am 
 anxious to make a will, and my disposal of my money 
 will be guided by what I see of the character and 
 capacities of these young folks. The difficulty lies 
 in the fact that I tan never hope, in the circum- 
 stances, to see any of my relatives, young or old, as 
 they really are. You understand?" 
 
 "I think so yes, of course, I do." 
 
 "Of course, you do. You would. I have always 
 known, from the first words you spoke to me, that 
 you are very able. If you are my secretary, I can 
 take you with me, to visit both the Nicholsons and 
 the Cranstoun-Browns; and you will be able to give 
 me your opinion." 
 
 The girl's eyes rose to meet his with a flash of 
 comprehension. Then she lowered them; and the 
 oddness of her expression forced itself on his atten- 
 tion. She looked strongly tempted, but beset with 
 doubts. He watched her keenly. 
 
 "Isn't it a very strange thing to ask me to do? 
 These people are your own kin." 
 
 "Well hardly. The relationship is not close. 
 I don't think I understand either my cousin or her 
 Husband. Moreover, I am beginning to suppose that 
 money warps the mind a little. There seemed to me 
 something noticeably sycophantic in the manner of 
 both the Cranstoun-Browns. But I may do them 
 an injustice. In short, I will not trust my own un- 
 aided judgment."
 
 42 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 She laughed unsteadily. "You have made up 
 your mind about me, but are not sure of them?" 
 
 He contemplated her unruffled. "I am a business 
 man, and I have trained myself to observe," he said. 
 "In such matters I do not make mistakes. It is only 
 in this case, where this detestable money question 
 comes in, that I distrust my impressions." 
 
 She turned aside, and did not speak. Evidently 
 she was torn with indecision. 
 
 "See here," said he after a moment. "You can't 
 use a typewriter yet, but I think you are well enough 
 to answer letters by hand. Come to the hotel for a 
 few days, and help me to tackle my arrears? Then 
 you can see how you like working with me?" As 
 she did not immediately reply, he added: "I am 
 not mistaken in supposing that you do this kind of 
 thing for a living?" 
 
 She started. "Oh, no, there is no mistake about 
 that!" 
 
 "And you are at present without regular employ- 
 ment?" 
 
 "That is also true, I regret to say." 
 
 "Yet you are very doubtful about taking my job? 
 You don't precisely jump at it. Is it because we 
 have made acquaintance with nobody to introduce 
 us?" 
 
 She coloured slightly. "Perhaps." 
 
 "If an employer wished to engage you, what steps 
 would he take ? He would go to a bureau and make 
 inquiries?" 
 
 "Probably."
 
 A Curious Request 43 
 
 "And would they take up his references before 
 allowing a young lady like yourself to enter his 
 employ?" 
 
 "N-no. I don't think they do that." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 She met his droll smile and laughed. "I'm really 
 not so prudish," said she. "The reason why I hesi- 
 tated was was quite different. Of course, I will 
 come to work for you to-morrow, if you will allow 
 me not to make any definite reply about the perma- 
 nent secretaryship." 
 
 As she spoke, the door was flung open, and a 
 page-boy entered with a card on a salver. He stood 
 gazing vaguely round, and then addressed himself 
 to Miss Garth. 
 
 " 'Scuse me, Miss, is there a young lady staying 
 here, name of the Honourable Miss Osbourne?" 
 
 Miss Garth sprang to her feet, and as suddenly 
 re-seated herself. "I don't think so why?" 
 
 The boy consulted the card. "Lord Clement 
 Vyner has called to see her," said he. 
 
 "Go and tell the gentleman he has made a mis- 
 take. . . . Or perhaps you had better ask Miss Kay 
 first. She may be expecting the lady." 
 
 The boy vanished and her visitor stood up to go. 
 They parted cordially, with the arrangement that she 
 was to present herself at the Tuscany at ten o'clock 
 the following morning. 
 
 As Strachan passed out, he encountered a well- 
 dressed man with a sulky face, standing in the en- 
 trance hall. As he approached, the stranger ad-
 
 44 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 dressed him. "Are you a visitor?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 "I am," replied Strachan, rather surprised. 
 
 "Then they do allow visitors of our sex?" 
 
 "I had no difficulty." 
 
 "Thanks, thanks," said his lordship with a nod; 
 and Strachan passed out. 
 
 A moment later Miss Garth opened the drawing- 
 room door and emerged upon the long passage. 
 
 Lord Clement stood at the far end of it, but she 
 was visible to him as he stood, and he started for- 
 ward with a sharp exclamation, bitten off between 
 his teeth. 
 
 The girl's eyes had hardly fallen upon him before 
 she turned aside and vanished from sight through a 
 swing door. 
 
 "Charis! Stop! What is the use of this be- 
 haviour? I must have a word with you." 
 
 He was hard in pursuit. It took him, however, 
 some appreciable time to reach the swing door; and 
 when he opened it, he saw a staircase, leading both 
 up and down, and also three doors, all closed. There 
 was no sign or sound of his quarry. He hesitated, 
 but decided that he dare not risk opening doors, or 
 ascending stairs, in a strange place. The clatter of 
 the page-boy, charging down the main staircase 
 behind him, decided him to return to the entrance, 
 which he regained just as the boy reached the bottom 
 stair. 
 
 "Miss Kay's compliments, my lord, and there's
 
 A Curious Request 45 
 
 no Honourable Miss Osbourne here, and she ain't 
 applied for rooms either." 
 
 "Who is the lady who was in the drawing-room 
 when you took in my card?" 
 
 "Miss Garth?" 
 
 "Exactly. I should like to see Miss Garth." 
 
 The boy's countenance expressed suspicion. 
 "Names not much alike, my lord." 
 
 "Of course not. Miss Garth is Miss Osbourne's 
 friend. I am sure she would know her address." 
 
 The boy hesitated. "Shall I go and ask her, my 
 lord?" 
 
 The flustered visitor produced a shilling and was 
 ushered into the vacant drawing-room. 
 
 His messenger was absent a weary while, and in 
 the interval the clanging of a great bell announced 
 that the hostel was about to lunch. 
 
 At last the page's round face was seen again. 
 
 "Miss Garth's gone out, sir. Miss Kay said I 
 was to tell you that she won't be in all day." 
 
 "Can you tell me at what hour I should be most 
 likely to find her in?" 
 
 "You won't find her at all, sir, not after to-day, 
 She's leaving to-morrow, Miss Kay said." 
 
 "I suppose they would forward letters?" 
 
 "I suppose so, my lord."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WHO IS MISS GARTH? 
 
 IT was so long since George Strachan had awak- 
 ened from sleep with that sense of pleasurable 
 anticipation which makes the zest of life, that when 
 this miracle happened in his comfortable quarters at 
 the Tuscany he was at a loss to account for it; and it 
 was only by degrees that he traced his uplifted spirits 
 to the recollection that his new secretary was to ar- 
 rive that morning. 
 
 It was with a feeling of entering farther into an 
 interesting experience that he awaited her arrival 
 after breakfast. The weather was still cold, with 
 the unrelenting severity of an English spring, and 
 the fire leapt and crackled on the hearth. Never- 
 theless, the sun was shining, and his room faced 
 south, across the ripples of the slow highway of the 
 great little Thames. 
 
 The girl of whom he was thinking so pleasurably 
 came in smiling, her hands full of daffodils. 
 
 "Here," said she, holding up the flowers to his 
 face, "here is the taxi-fare you would not let me 
 pay, transmuted into pure gold." 
 
 "In this form," he replied, "I will take it gladly; 
 and the more gladly because, you know, it constitutes 
 a precedent." 
 
 46
 
 Who is Miss Garth? 47 
 
 "Oh, don't be too confident! I can't afford to do 
 it often." 
 
 "Naturally. The point is, what you may do, I 
 may do. You have asked me to tea and given me 
 flowers. That establishes my claim to do likewise." 
 
 His eye was whimsical. She laughed with him. 
 
 "Like Touchstone, you are very swift and senten- 
 tious," said she. "I see that I must be careful, and 
 walk warily. And now let us settle down to work, 
 for I must leave early to-day." 
 
 "Why, what have you on foot?" he asked, as he 
 laid bundles of letters on the table. 
 
 "I'm leaving the Trenby Hostel," she said quietly. 
 
 "Indeed!" He was surprised. "You said 
 nothing of that to me yesterday." 
 
 "I was occupying another girl's room, on the 
 understanding that she must have it if she came back; 
 and she wants it," said Miss Garth. As she spoke, 
 she coloured brightly, and Strachan felt that he had 
 been inquisitive. He apologised, and no more was 
 said, for they plunged into the morning's work. But 
 his active mind was at work. Could her sudden 
 flight be connected with the visit of the gilded youth 
 he had seen in the entrance hall of the Hostel the 
 previous day? 
 
 It was not until she stood up to go that he asked 
 her what her future address would be. She told 
 him she was going to a small hotel for ladies only, 
 in St. George's Square, but that this was merely a 
 temporary refuge. "I have not decided where I am 
 going," she owned, with a somewhat troubled mien.
 
 48 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I think," remarked he, "that I had better fix 
 up my visit to Streatwood, and take you with me." 
 
 She was evidently tempted. "Streatwood? Is 
 that where Mr. and Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown live?" 
 
 "Yes. It is they who have the young people, and 
 young people interest me. The visit to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Nicholson, who live in the north of England, 
 can wait." 
 
 "In the north?" 
 
 The question was swift. 
 
 "Between Brough and Teesdale." She made no 
 comment, but sat very still as though meditating 
 deeply. 
 
 "Well?" he said at last; and she started. 
 
 "I want to talk to you about about what you 
 suggested to me yesterday," said she at last. 
 
 "Well does anything prevent your talking right 
 now?" 
 
 "Yes," she smiled. "Something does. I don't 
 wish to say anything which may sound critical of 
 you." 
 
 "Plenary dispensation accorded beforehand. Pro- 
 ceed." 
 
 "Well . . . that was a curious thing you wanted 
 me to do, was it not? You want to employ me, prac- 
 tically, as a spy upon your own cousins." 
 
 "Almost, but not quite," was the imperturbable 
 answer. "Let me point out that what I want is not 
 a spy, but a critic. A spy would betray confidences, 
 and that I would not wish. I desire an opinion of
 
 Who is Miss Garth? 49 
 
 the family from a complete stranger, and one from 
 Tvhom they can expect no favours." 
 
 "Yes, but they will be off guard before me. It 
 is taking an unfair advantage, surely." 
 
 "I think not. If a person have two manners, one 
 for the individual he may desire to conciliate, the 
 other for those who are more or less at his mercy, 
 the mere fact stamps that character. But I am so 
 placed with regard to these particular people, that I 
 can hardly test the point myself. I want your judg- 
 ment. I don't ask for the data on which you base 
 it. You are a disinterested spectator. The manner 
 in which I dispose of my wealth cannot matter to you. 
 You have no prejudices with regard to these folks." 
 
 "No. But likes and dislikes are odd things. It is 
 hard to be quite free of pettiness. Are you not 
 afraid that I might pay out your nieces for some real 
 or imagined snub by running them down to you?" 
 
 "Not a bit. I have the greatest confidence in you; 
 and I need you badly. People sometimes talk as if 
 the disposal of a fortune were unimportant, but it is 
 never that. I am the last surviving Strachan of our 
 family, and I feel I have a duty to fulfil as regards 
 mine. I want to act wisely, and I believe you can 
 help me to do so. The Browns are not poor people. 
 They have enough to live upon ; and if they are small- 
 minded, or greedy, or vicious, they will be better 
 without riches. I am not asking you to spy, but sim- 
 ply to report. Do you think you can do it?" 
 
 "I am pretty sure that I could do it." 
 "But you hesitate?"
 
 50 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "For the remarkable reason that I want so much 
 to go to Streatwood with you, that I hardly dare 
 consent . . . yet ... if you come to think of it, 
 I shall be no more a spy than is any inquirer who sets 
 himself to study the psychology of those with whom 
 he is thrown into contact. One would not call Henry 
 James a spy, for example." 
 
 "Quite so. Neither would I call a headmaster a 
 spy, when he consults his prefects on the tone of 
 the school." 
 
 Her eyes flashed approval. "An apt illustration ! 
 Well, now, may I bore you with a little personal 
 history?" 
 
 "Go right ahead," he replied with delight. 
 
 "I told you yesterday that I was born in West- 
 morland. Our village and we didn't even live in 
 the village was seven miles from a railway station. 
 I had very few companions, and they were all of one 
 class and type. They all thought the same thoughts ; 
 held the same opinions, used the same cliches. Well, 
 I'm ambitious, I want to be more than a secretary 
 I aspire to write a book. But I have to gather some 
 experience first. I broke free, and came away in 
 order to find out how the world went. I have loved 
 being in the Hostel, seeing how girls live but most 
 of all I have craved a chance to go right into the 
 family of such people as I imagine your cousins to 
 be ... I thought you ought to know this, it might 
 change your views as to the expediency of taking me 
 with you." 
 
 "Why so?"
 
 Who is Miss Garth? 51 
 
 "At least it seemed right to assure you that, if 
 I do go there with you, I will take no unfair advan- 
 tage in print. I won't put your family into my book 
 so that anyone could know them." 
 
 "Thank you," he said, with considerable amuse- 
 ment. "As a man of business I feel inclined to 
 suggest a bargain that I am allowed to see the book 
 in return for assisting you to procure the material." 
 
 Her colour came furiously. "I must seem an un- 
 gracious ingrate but the fact remains that I don't 
 want to promise even that," she muttered. 
 
 His bright eyes considered her with infinite relish. 
 "I was forgetting that I come from Samaria," said 
 he quaintly. "But I waive all claim. You come 
 with me unconditionally to Streatwood. You see, I 
 have made up my mind about you. You are trust- 
 worthy." 
 
 She caught her breath, and lowered her eyes. "If 
 anything could put one more especially upon honour, 
 it would be your incredible generosity. . . . I'll try 
 and live up to it." 
 
 "And you'll be ready to start off with me in a few 
 days' time?" 
 
 "The sooner the better. I am very anxious to 
 leave London."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 NEW IMPRESSIONS 
 
 THE family at Redmays was at dinner, when the 
 letter from Strachan arrived by the evening 
 post, and was brought to Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown. 
 
 "Well, I'm sure!" said she, in nettled tones, as 
 she looked up from its perusal. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked the master of the 
 house amiably, as he helped the fish. "From 
 Strachan, did you say? Is he not coming after all?" 
 
 "Oh, he's coming right enough," snorted the lady. 
 "But a millionaire cannot travel unattended, it 
 seems." 
 
 "Going to bring a batman?" asked Gilbert. 
 
 "A valet I should think only suitable to a man of 
 his wealth. But it is a secretary he asks leave to 
 bring." 
 
 "Good!" cried Vera, flourishing her napkin. "A 
 young man in the house will liven us up I" 
 
 "Your cousin's secretary is a young lady," re- 
 marked her mother in an ominous voice. "In fact" 
 glancing with heightened colour at her husband 
 "it's the typewriting girl, Joe." 
 
 "Indeed!" Joe Brown smiled enigmatically, and 
 there arose a volley of questions from the family. 
 Miss Garth ! Who and what was she ? A girl who 
 
 52
 
 New Impressions 53 
 
 had fallen downstairs, and whom Cousin George had 
 befriended? 
 
 "So that was the day you lunched with him," 
 mused Vee. "We thought there was some crumpled 
 rose-leaf in the menu, didn't we, Phyl? Dare I 
 hazard the guess arising out of the minutes just 
 read that the lady is young and attractive?" 
 
 "We didn't see her," said her father hastily. 
 
 "Phyl, I believe you're too late in the field after 
 all," said Vee with a prodigious sigh. "It's really 
 interesting, this." 
 
 "Surely," pondered her mother with furrowed 
 brow, "we can refuse on the score of accommoda- 
 tion." 
 
 "With three spare rooms in the house? Bit too 
 thick," observed Gilbert. 
 
 "I think you would be unwise to make any diffi- 
 culty, my dear," said the mild husband. "And I see 
 nothing in the least out of the way in Strachan's re- 
 quest. He is in a very large way of business, and I 
 only wonder he came over without a secretary. His 
 correspondence must be enormous." 
 
 "He wants to bring down his chauffeur and car as 
 well," went on Clara, who seemed a trifle over- 
 whelmed. 
 
 "The maids will be only too pleased to have a man 
 to meals in the kitchen," laughed Vee. "We can 
 do up the little room over the stable; Gil has wanted 
 it for a work-room for ever so long. Buck up, 
 Mater, it's well worth doing. Even if he leaves us 
 only ten thou a mere drop in the bucket ! it would
 
 54 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 be worth your while to lay out a hundred or so, 
 wouldn't it? Why, it's all perfectly thrilling! Not 
 only is the millionaire cousin descending upon us a 
 god in a car but he actually brings with him a hated 
 rival, whom we must overthrow by our superior 
 strategy! Phyl, we must have new frocks! My 
 quarter's salary is just due. Cheer oh ! I was won- 
 dering yesterday why I took up that stupid old work, 
 and now I know! . . . Look at Ma! Shall I tell 
 you what she is thinking? I know as well as if she 
 said it out loud ! It is that the moment has arrived 
 for a new spare room carpet, and that, since the 
 carpet must come up, it will be an excellent chance 
 to get the room papered too ! I know Aunt Nichol- 
 son is having their best room papered; she said so 
 in her last letter." 
 
 Vee's intuitions were almost uncanny, as her 
 mother remarked to her father that night, as they 
 made ready for bed. "They were the very thoughts 
 passing through my mind at the moment; but how 
 could the child have known?" 
 
 "Hope she won't be too sharp for her cousin's 
 taste," returned Joe, mildly speculative. "A rich 
 man his age likes something soft and confiding." 
 
 "Vee's dreadfully clever," sighed his helpmate. 
 "She will feel instinctively for the right line to take. 
 And in America" (Canada and the United States 
 were all one to Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown) "they are 
 accustomed to something very go-ahead, are they 
 not? What I don't like is this business of the lady 
 secretary."
 
 New Impressions 55 
 
 "My dear, George Strachan is as straight as they 
 make them." 
 
 "Who doubted it?" she snapped. "Is the girl 
 straight? That is what is bothering me." 
 
 ***** 
 
 It was a beautiful afternoon when the swift car 
 coursed through Streatwood, found the Heriot 
 Road, and slipped into the hospitably opened gates 
 of Redmays. 
 
 The house wore an air of well-being even beyond 
 its wont. Every window sparkled, every muslin 
 blind was snowy. On the door step stood Mrs. 
 Cranstoun-Brown, and Phyllis was smiling at her 
 side. The eyes of both, gay though their greeting 
 to Cousin George, were fixed in keenest scrutiny on 
 the secretary. 
 
 Miss Garth wore a long rough motor-coat of the 
 plainest. Beneath this, when she removed it in the 
 hall, was seen a dark blue coat and skirt. She wore 
 no carmine on her cheeks, nor bloom on her nose, 
 no silk stockings, no scent. In fact, the first view 
 of her was distinctly reassuring, and it was with a 
 relieved mind that the hostess led the way into the 
 drawing-room. This was no siren. As she ushered 
 in her cousin, she murmured confidentially: 
 
 "I suppose you would prefer that Miss er 
 Garth, should take her meals with us?" 
 
 He looked blank. "Where else could she take 
 them?" he asked in a puzzled way. 
 
 "Oh, quite so, quite so. It is far more convenient
 
 56 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 to me, but I only wanted to do what you would like 
 best." 
 
 "That is certainly what I would like best; and 
 now where is my other cousin Veronica?" 
 
 He seated himself close to Clara, near the low 
 tea-table upon which the silver was faultlessly bright. 
 
 "Oh, haven't you heard? Veronica is out all day. 
 You know she is clever, and her father gave her a 
 University education. It makes a girl so capable! 
 And when this League for a Higher Life was found- 
 ed, just after peace was declared, she was impor- 
 tuned by all the best people round here to become 
 secretary. I wanted it to be honorary, but she ob- 
 jected. She said she ought to be paid, because she 
 might be succeeded by another girl, less fortunate 
 than she, who might not be able to afford to give her 
 
 services. 
 if 
 
 That sounds sensible," said Strachan approv- 
 ingly, "and it does not leave you alone, Clara ! You 
 have one nice daughter to keep you company." He 
 looked with approval at Phyllis, who wore a pretty 
 light-coloured dress, and whose hair was becomingly 
 arranged. She gave an impression of youth and 
 sturdy health. 
 
 She was so pleased with her cousin's admiration 
 that she actually unbent so far as to turn to Miss 
 Garth and make a few remarks. 
 
 All was progressing most happily when the door 
 was flung open and in walked Vee in her office frock 
 and shabbiest hat. 
 
 "Hallo !" said she, "so the Splendid Cousin has
 
 New Impressions 57 
 
 duly arrived? Where's the Secretary? Ah, I see. 
 Well, Cousin George, stand up and be looked at I" 
 
 She held out both her hands, and Strachan took 
 them, rising to his feet, his mouth curved in its 
 pleasant smile. 
 
 "H'mps ! Not a bit what I expected ! How sat- 
 isfactory !" 
 
 "Vee !" warningly from her mother; but Strachan 
 laughed outright. 
 
 "Well now, little cousin, tell me why you thought 
 I should be an ogre?" 
 
 The girl seated herself, pulling the cake-stand 
 towards her and helping herself. "Haven't I seen 
 plenty of portraits of my Strachan ancestry?" quoth 
 she; "and oh, but they were dour folk! Enough to 
 turn milk sour, most of 'em ! Like lumps of north- 
 ern granite " 
 
 "Take care 1" he warned her. "Not myself only, 
 but Miss Garth, whom I present to you, comes from 
 the north!" 
 
 "Hallo, Miss Garth," said Vee, "forgive my 
 falling to before I had greeted you, but I am raven- 
 ously hungry. I've had such a day of it! Our 
 Vice-chairman said the minute I took did not convey 
 the sense of his speech. He put it to the vote and 
 lost by a big majority." 
 
 "Oh ! So you have male members of your League 
 fora Higher Life?" 
 
 She nodded, sipping her tea. "All sorts. It's 
 great sport, really; but a bit confusing. Some think
 
 58 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 we ought to amalgamate, or affiliate, or something, 
 with the Purity League or the White Rose or some 
 of those things; and old Miss Bennett said in com- 
 mittee that if this was done all unmarried ladies must 
 leave the League, which I thought insulting." 
 
 "Vee 1" Again her mother's menacing note. 
 
 "What is it, Ma? Cousin George comes from 
 Canada, and out there they don't keep their girls in 
 a drawer, rolled up in tissue paper. 
 
 "Is that where they keep you, Miss Vee?" de- 
 manded Strachan, merely for the pleasure of hearing 
 her retort, which was : 
 
 "What do you think?" with an intentional vul- 
 garity and a flashing smile, both provocative. 
 
 "Well," said he, "I hope they don't keep you in 
 an office drawer, all day and every day. I have 
 plans for some good long runs in the car for anybody 
 that way disposed." 
 
 "Cousin George, what can you possibly hope to 
 get out of me, starting to bribe in this shameless 
 manner? Why, I'd sell my soul for a motor tourl 
 I must see if I can't get a holiday somehow." 
 
 Phyllis had to clench her teeth to bite back words. 
 She had reckoned upon a week, with Vee out of the 
 way; and now the girl had bounced in, and seized, 
 as it seemed to her, in five minutes more than she 
 could have hoped to accomplish in that week. 
 
 "My sister is quick to make friends," she re- 
 marked sourly to Miss Garth. 
 
 *****
 
 New Impressions 59 
 
 "Here's tosh!" said Gilbert, a couple of hours 
 later, encountering Phyllis on the stairs. "The 
 mater says I'm to get into a dinner jacket." 
 
 "Good thing, too. You're such an old slouch," 
 was the unsympathetic reply. 
 
 Her brother grunted, and continued his slow way 
 to his room, where he most unwillingly changed. 
 
 His temper was so bad that he thought he would 
 prepare himself to be agreeable to his influential 
 cousin by turning into the old schoolroom and smok- 
 ing a cigarette before proceeding downstairs. It 
 was not cold this evening; the lack of a fire would 
 not be prohibitive. 
 
 There was a fire, though, blazing merrily. On 
 the table lay a number of documents, and a type- 
 writer in its case. 
 
 On the hearthrug, lost in dreams, a girl sat, star- 
 ing into the flames, whose radiance flickered on her 
 white arms and serious profile, gilding every thread 
 of her loosely gathered hair.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 GEORGE STRACHAN'S HEIRS 
 
 THE young man's evening shoes made no sound 
 to reveal his presence. Closing the door be- 
 hind him, he remained motionless, staring at the 
 stranger on his hearth. 
 
 As he contemplated her she smiled suddenly at her 
 own thoughts. Such a smile ! Such a wonderful 
 mouth, full of meanings, full of mysteries 1 
 
 The firelight gilded the delicate outline of her 
 bare arms, and he caught sight of a black bandage 
 round one of them. This, then, must be the secre- 
 tary the object of his mother's dark suspicions. 
 Gilbert could afterwards remember quite clearly that 
 his first emotion on beholding her was a fear lest 
 Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown might say or do anything 
 offensive. 
 
 Why this possibility should present itself to him 
 as intolerable he could not have said, and had not 
 time for reflection, for Miss Garth looked up and 
 saw him. She made no movement to rise, but looked 
 at him expectantly, and he came forward awkwardly. 
 
 "I'm afraid I'm intruding. My people never told 
 me this room would be in use," he said. 
 
 She rose then and gave him her hand, smiling. 
 "Are we turning you out? What a shame! But, 
 
 60
 
 George Strachan's Heirs 61 
 
 you see, we must have somewhere to work. It takes 
 at least a couple of hours a day to keep down the 
 correspondence." 
 
 "I see," he said slowly, going to gaze upon her 
 machine. "How can you manage to type with your 
 injured hand?" he asked, with real curiosity. 
 
 "I have only just begun to use the machine again. 
 My sprain is practically well now." 
 
 He made a comment upon the make of her type- 
 writer, and she left her place beside the fire to answer 
 his questions, laying upon the well-kept keys a hand 
 and wrist which seemed made of a different flesh and 
 blood from that of Phyllis or Vee. 
 
 "I suppose," she remarked, "that you are Mr. 
 Cranstoun-Brown, junior, and that you slipped in 
 here for a quiet cigarette before dinner. Do smoke, 
 in spite of my intrusion, won't you?" 
 
 "Oh, no; I'd better go. Clumsy of me to blow 
 in like that." 
 
 "If you go I shall feel uncomfortable. I am 
 merely waiting in idleness for the gong to sound, and 
 gloating in the luxury of this fire." 
 
 "All right, if you will, too." He went to a cup- 
 board and got out a box of dainty Egyptians. 
 "These are my ladies' brand," said he. "At least, 
 they are what Sheila Varick likes." 
 
 He handed them to her, and she took one natu- 
 rally. "Who is Sheila Varick?" she asked. 
 
 "She's one of these pitiful war widows," said Gil- 
 bert, seating himself opposite to Miss Garth at the 
 fireside. "Her brother, Major Doran, and I were
 
 62 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Territorial officers in the same battalion when war 
 broke out. One leave he brought home Tommy 
 Varick, who fell head over ears in love with Sheila. 
 Next leave they were married, and had eight days' 
 honeymoon; and and Tommy Varick never had 
 another leave after that." 
 
 "Poor girl!" 
 
 "Yes. I think it all seems to her rather like a 
 dream now. There was something quite unlike real 
 life about that kind of wedding that snatching of a 
 few days' happiness out of death's jaws. But I don't 
 think it broke her heart, you know. It was all over 
 so quickly she knew so little of him, really. . . . 
 The Dorans are about the only people worth know- 
 ing hereabouts," he added, after a pause, during 
 which he watched with earnest gaze the turn of Miss 
 Garth's wrist as she held her cigarette. 
 
 She received his confidence with interest, tinged 
 with a guess that Gilbert would welcome Mrs. Var : 
 ick's inconstancy; and with George Strachan's inter- 
 ests in mind, she studied the heavy-faced young man 
 rather narrowly. 
 
 "When you came in," said she presently, "I was 
 thinking how beautiful the quiet is here. I have 
 been living near Vauxhall for the past six months, 
 and this is sudden peace. I I don't think I ex- 
 pected to find Streatwood such a pleasant place." 
 
 "Oh, it's all right when you get here," conceded 
 the young man morosely. "Personally I should pre- 
 fer Vauxhall. One is close to the hub of things 
 there."
 
 George Strachan's Heirs 63 
 
 "Yes, that's true," she replied ponderingly. 
 "Why don't you live in town ?" 
 
 He shrugged. "My people wouldn't like it," he 
 answered shortly. "A man has to take his sisters 
 about, and so on." 
 
 "That's considerate," she said approvingly. "Mr. 
 Strachan would admire that trait in you." 
 
 "What kind is Strachan? Very old-fashioned 
 what?" 
 
 "Do you want me to describe him?" said the girl 
 softly. "Well, he is a knight of old, born by acci- 
 dent into the world of to-day. I could point you 
 to some lines of Wordsworth that hit him off pretty 
 neatly; but I won't. I leave you to find out for 
 yourself. There's always a pleasure in discovery, 
 isn't there?" 
 
 "Sometimes," he replied, with meaning. 
 
 "It must have seemed rather weak of me," she 
 subjoined after a pause, "asking you if you were Mr. 
 Cranstoun-Brown. But I really did not feel sure. 
 You are not a bit like your sisters." 
 
 "So Mrs. Varick says." 
 
 "Your sister Veronica is evidently a Strachan," 
 went on Miss Garth. "She has her uncle's long, 
 oval face and slightly aquiline nose, with those dark 
 eyes ; only hers are not so melting as his. But when 
 she smiles she is very like him." 
 
 "Is that so?" said Gilbert mechanically. He 
 hardly heard what was said, his whole attention be- 
 ing focused upon the speaker. 
 
 The secretary laughed softly. "There! Now I
 
 64 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 have bored you and that in the first ten minutes of 
 our acquaintance ! I know that some men hate the 
 subject of family likeness." 
 
 He made polite protests, but rather with the air 
 of one whose manners moved on rusty springs, not 
 often in use. He had a decided likeness to his 
 mother, and with her massive jaw had inherited her 
 small eyes. His, however, were not set close to- 
 gether, as were hers; and they were blue-grey in 
 colour, not boot buttons, as Charis Garth had in her 
 thoughts irreverently described the lady's. 
 
 The room was very quiet. The curtains had not 
 been drawn, and a slim crescent moon hung over the 
 distant roofs of the houses in the next road. 
 
 It was hardly twilight, but enough of day was 
 gone to make the firelight show up on the side of the 
 room away from the window. It illumined the lines 
 of Miss Garth's slim form, painting it with gilded 
 edges, like a Rembrandt. The coals sank together 
 with a soft, crushy noise, and the cat on the rug 
 purred as the girl's slippered foot caressed him. It 
 was so comfortable that they almost forgot to talk; 
 and when the gong for which they had been listening 
 sounded they started, looked at each other, and 
 smiled. It is permissible to wonder which of the two 
 would have been more surprised, could the thoughts 
 of the other have been made known. 
 
 They descended the stairs side by side, just as 
 the rest of the family issued from the drawing-room 
 on its way to dinner. There was a savoury smell of 
 soup in the air, and Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown wore a
 
 George Strachan's Heirs 65 
 
 look of satisfaction, for the visit had begun well, 
 with the sole exception that Gilbert had not as yet 
 appeared. 
 
 As she glanced up and saw him and the secretary 
 side by side coming calmly downstairs, she experi- 
 enced a mild shock. Her boy! She had previously 
 supposed the secretary to be setting her cap at the 
 millionaire himself; but here was another and an un- 
 welcome possibility ! 
 
 u Ah, here is Gil," said her little husband, in tones 
 of satisfaction. "Come and be introduced, my boy. 
 I thought you had not come in." 
 
 "Phyl knew I was in," was the rather curt 
 response. 
 
 George Strachan grasped his hand, and thought 
 with regret that the young man was too like Clara to 
 be lovable. However, he made his greeting as 
 pleasant as he could. "What a big chap you are !" 
 he said. "And have been through the whole of the 
 war Mons Star and all, I hear! I shall want to be 
 told about that." 
 
 Clara sighed a little as she led him into the din- 
 ing-room and placed him on her right hand. Gil- 
 bert's military 7 career had been a disappointment to, 
 her. Major Doran and he had gone out together, 
 both of them as captains, in the earliest months. 
 Now Doran was a major and had won the Military 
 Cross. Gil had remained a captain, and acquired 
 nothing more honourable than wound stripes. She 
 could not, however, speak of this to Strachan; and 
 her preoccupation with the serving and waiting at
 
 66 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 table made her at all times a bad conversationalist 
 at meals. However, there was no lack of talk. 
 Strachan was agreeably disappointed with the family. 
 On closer acquaintance he thought his first verdict 
 had been unduly unfavourable. He began to hope 
 that he was not quite so destitute in the matter of 
 kinsfolk as at first he had feared. 
 
 After dinner there was a little music. Miss Garth 
 most suitably declared that she neither played nor 
 sang, so Phyl and Vee got their chance without ri- 
 valry. They performed like any other girls of their 
 class and type. They had no natural taste and not 
 much ability; and though they had had expensive les- 
 sons, the result was deplorably mediocre. The most 
 one could say of their performance was that a quar- 
 ter of a century earlier it would in all probability 
 have been worse. 
 
 Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown, however, being herself 
 entirely without discrimination, was very well satis- 
 fied. She told Mr. Strachan that the girls had had 
 every advantage, and condoled with Miss Garth 
 upon the privation of not being able to perform. 
 Miss Garth replied that her father had held the 
 view that a girl with no natural taste for music 
 should not waste her time in learning to play a musi- 
 cal instrument. Mrs. Brown complacently approved, 
 but remarked that she was glad her girls had so 
 marked a taste, otherwise their father and she would 
 have missed a great deal of pleasure. 
 
 Gilbert struck in suddenly and remarked that for 
 his part he did not think the girls were really musical
 
 George Strachan's Heirs 67 
 
 at all. He had offered to take them to the new 
 Strauss opera, and they had not cared to go. 
 
 Miss Garth turned her head to him swiftly. "You 
 like music?" 
 
 Gil hesitated a moment, and then said: "I know 
 nothing at all about it, but it has a great effect on me. 
 At least, I know enough to know that that isn't 
 music," nodding his head towards the girls. 
 
 "So, after all," reflected Miss Garth, "he is really 
 the least commonplace of the family." 
 
 After the musical performance Vee inveigled 
 everybody into playing a round game of cards, in 
 which she sat next to Cousin George, and shame- 
 lessly helped herself to his counters when her own 
 ran short, rising from the table by this means the 
 winner of ninepence, to her sister's hardly concealed 
 vexation. 
 
 However, Mr. Strachan was laughing and quite 
 animated when they separated for the night. 
 
 But to Gilbert the whole time passed like a dream 
 in which nothing was clearly focused, except a quar- 
 ter of an hour spent almost in silence sitting in the 
 firelight, opposite a girl who was wholly unlike any 
 girl in his previous experience, while a crescent moon 
 swam in a spring sky that shaded from sapphire to 
 apricot.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE DINNER-PARTY 
 
 THE house of Redmays, upon the morning of 
 the day fixed for the dinner-party in Strachan's 
 honour, showed a somewhat startling departure 
 from its usual routine of well-ordered comfort. 
 
 So complete and heart-whole was its abandon- 
 ment to the effort of the evening that the visitor 
 thought, with a twinkle, that it must be supplying 
 his secretary with excellent "copy." 
 
 It began at breakfast-time. Mrs. Cranstoun- 
 Brown, looking worried and absent, suggested his 
 taking out Miss Garth for a long motor run, as she 
 and the girls would not be at leisure to entertain him. 
 This he cheerfully consented to do, for he was always 
 content to drive with his congenial companion. He 
 declared that during the past week he had learned 
 more of the history of his native land, through the 
 medium of its village churches, than he had ever 
 acquired by means of history books. 
 
 A trivial incident caused the alteration of this 
 plan. Flowers for the dinner-table were under dis- 
 cussion, it happening to be the day of the week when 
 neighbouring florists were ill supplied with fresh 
 ones. Miss Garth suggested that the garden con- 
 tained masses of lovely lilac, both white and purple. 
 
 68
 
 The Dinner-Party 69 
 
 Looking compassionately at her, Mrs. Brown vouch- 
 safed the information that lilac will not live in water. 
 Miss Garth, with a smile, very courteously assured 
 her that she was mistaken. 
 
 "I will guarantee that any lilac which I put into 
 water will live several days in its full freshness," 
 said she. "I assure you I am talking of what I 
 understand." 
 
 "H'mph! One of these Swanley students, are 
 you? But they are of no use. Old Colonel Doran 
 tried one. She expected him to do all the weeding. 
 If you took up floriculture professionally, may I ask 
 why you gave it up, Miss Garth?" 
 
 U I never took it up," said Charis, smiling. "But 
 I do know the secret of making lilac live in water." 
 
 "Lilac is, in my opinion, not a table flower." 
 
 "Oh, no. I would not put it on the table. But 
 we might do the whole drawing-room with it, and 
 put a big pot in the hall. Then you would need to 
 buy only enough tulips for the table." 
 
 "We may as well try it, Ma. Flowers are such 
 a price," said Phyllis grudgingly. She had decided, 
 within a few minutes of her cousin's arrival, that 
 she would be his wife; and she was of an iron deter- 
 mination. Her feeling, not only towards Miss 
 Garth, but towards her own sister was that of 
 smothered rage and spite, ever ready to break out; 
 and only Vee knew the full urgency of the motives 
 which goaded her onward, and how vital it was that 
 she should marry a rich man shortly. 
 
 It being conceded that the experiment be made,
 
 jo The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Strachan gladly consented to postpone his drive; 
 and his secretary went into the garden and gathered 
 odorous spikes of young, just-blooming flowers, 
 looking as though the tips had been dipped into red 
 wine, too lately blown to show any trace of suburban 
 grime. Having borrowed a hammer, she proceeded 
 to pound the hard, woody stems into pulp and fibre 
 for two or three inches up, and then disposed the 
 branches in deep vases with a dexterity which her 
 hostess was fain to admire. 
 
 "It'll set people talking," said Phyllis, watching. 
 "Everybody always says you can't cut lilac because 
 it won't live. I feel doubtful, even now, if it won't 
 be hanging its head in a few hours." 
 
 "Let's bet on it, Phyl," said Cousin George, who, 
 cigar in mouth, had been watching the whole proc- 
 ess. "Five pounds to a photo of yourself that Miss 
 Garth's flowers won't wilt." 
 
 "Ugh! Corrupter of youth!" said his disre- 
 spectful secretary, who was on excellent terms with 
 him by this time. "So Yankee too ! Talking about 
 wilting! You should remember you are British, 
 should he not, Miss Cranstoun-Brown ?" 
 
 Phyllis, who had turned crimson when her cousin 
 thus asked for a photo of herself, stared coldly. "I 
 should not think of criticising Cousin George. I 
 will take his bet," said she; and to her annoyance 
 Cousin George said teasingly to Miss Garth, who 
 did not seem at all crushed : 
 
 "Thank you, my dear. You managed that very 
 nicely."
 
 The Dinner-Party 71 
 
 Managed that? Phyllis went off with her 
 mother's keys to get the best glass out of the cup- 
 board, pondering this mysterious phrase. 
 
 "Did he mean that she knew he wanted my photo, 
 and that she spoke against him on purpose to make 
 me a little angry, so that I should take the bet? I 
 suppose so. Then has he told her that he admires 
 me? Perhaps. He had hardly been here five min- 
 utes before he showed that he thinks me pretty. 
 Does he think her pretty, I wonder? I don't. But 
 she's clever in a sort of way. No doubt he finds 
 her useful. However, when I marry him, I shall 
 persuade him to get rid of her. Something about 
 her that confuses me somehow." 
 
 After lunch Miss Garth quietly suggested to 
 Strachan that he should take Phyllis instead of her- 
 self out in the car. 
 
 "She looks tired," said she, "and I can help Mrs. 
 Brown in her place. I find it interesting, you know. 
 It never occurred to me before to wonder how people 
 manage when they give a dinner-party." 
 
 Thus it was arranged, and Mrs. Brown, to her 
 own surprise, found herself allowing the secretary to 
 wipe wine-glasses and blanch almonds, to fill cut- 
 glass finger-bowls and strew a few violets in each. 
 
 Like most otherwise commodious suburban houses, 
 Redmays contained no servants' hall, and only a 
 mere slip of a pantry just a bit of passage boarded 
 off, with a sink fitted at the end. 
 
 "It's not very roomy, when there is such a lot of 
 silver to be washed up," sighed the care-worn host-
 
 72 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 ess. "Did your mother do much entertaining, Miss 
 Garth?" 
 
 "My mother died when I was a child, and was 
 an invalid for some time before her death." 
 
 "Then I suppose you don't remember where the 
 silver was washed up when there was a dinner-party, 
 do you?" 
 
 "Why, really, I haven't an idea. I suppose the 
 
 but " began Miss Garth, biting off a word short 
 
 and growing rather pink. 
 
 "The butt? What, the soft-water butt? You 
 must be mistaken, I am sure. They could not have 
 used that." 
 
 "How stupid of me. Of course not. Our coun- 
 try house our house was in the country, I should 
 say was old and rambling. We suffered from too 
 much space rather than too little." 
 
 "I see. One of these old-fashioned houses. No 
 conveniences." 
 
 "No, none." 
 
 "In Westmorland, I think you said?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I don't notice that you have any north-country 
 accent." 
 
 "It it isn't very marked, I think. My mother 
 came from the south." 
 
 "That would account for it. How did she like 
 all the inconveniences? I suppose your water had 
 to be pumped?" 
 
 "Yes, it was all pumped."
 
 The Dinner-Party 73 
 
 "You had a garden man, perhaps, who could do 
 it." 
 
 "I I believe it was done by a the gardening 
 man." (But he didn't do it half as persistently as 
 you are doing it now, she added to herself.) 
 
 "Oh, well," said Mrs. Brown genially, "after liv- 
 ing so secluded it's really quite a chance for you to 
 see a little society. There's one thing, it's all the 
 best people in Streatwood that you'll be meeting this 
 evening." 
 
 Charis gravely replied that she had no doubt it 
 would be most interesting. A sense of shame was 
 pricking her. Was it fair to allow the simple-minded 
 lady to go on spreading herself? 
 
 "Whoever marries one of my girls," continued 
 Mrs. Brown complacently, "will marry one that has 
 been trained to keep house in the correct style. 
 Everything good and solid has always been my 
 motto. Plentiful supplies, but no waste permitted. 
 There is not much of such housekeeping nowadays; 
 but my daughter, Miss Cranstoun-Brown, is truly 
 domestic. Her husband will have a treasure. I 
 hope she is enjoying her drive." 
 
 "She can hardly fail to enjoy Mr. Strachan's 
 society, I think. He is so thoughtful for others." 
 
 "Even those in his employment," replied Mrs. 
 Brown, while her boot-button eyes regarded the 
 speaker furtively. "I think my cousin's spirits have 
 improved since his coming here." 
 
 "I am sure of it," replied Miss Garth, with a cor- 
 dial alacrity which was flattering.
 
 74 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I thought it would be so. We are his own kin, 
 you see ; and blood, after all, is thicker than water." 
 
 Having made this pronouncement with all the 
 emphasis of one who has hit upon an original and 
 striking thought, the lady departed, leaving her 
 guest to finish polishing the glasses, with an odd 
 expression compressing the corners of her tucked-in 
 mouth an expression suggesting guilt. She had to 
 whisper to herself, "My daughter, Miss Cranstoun- 
 Brown," before she could allow herself to be 
 amused; and even then there was a moral uneasiness. 
 She was sailing under false colours, and the knowl- 
 edge humiliated her. 
 
 Since his bereavement social functions had been to 
 Strachan bitterly repugnant. He would not, how- 
 ever, allow his anti-social inclinations to appear, 
 since he knew the guests had been bidden to do 
 honour to himself, and he understood in part the 
 gratification which Clara must feel in presenting him 
 to her friends. 
 
 At the urgent request of his flurried relatives, he 
 dressed in good time and joined them in the drawing- 
 room before the arrival of their guests. The daugh- 
 ters of the house were both extremely smart. He 
 did not like their gowns, but could not explain to 
 himself the cause of his disapproval. He watched 
 for Miss Garth to come down, with an earnest hope 
 that she would present a contrast. Some important 
 letters, with which he was obliged to deal, had ar- 
 rived by the afternoon post, so his secretary was a 
 little late. No guests had, however, arrived when
 
 The Dinner-Party 75 
 
 she slipped quietly in. She was in white, and a 
 necklet of seed-pearls was round her throat. Her 
 abundant hair was very simply arranged, and she 
 wore no gloves nor bracelets. It was thus not easy 
 to say why she conveyed the impression of being 
 much more en grande toilette than anyone else 
 present. 
 
 Both the Brown girls had red ears as well as red 
 hands. There was a red mark upon their chests, due 
 to wearing blouses low in front. The arms, dis- 
 played almost without sleeves, were of coarse and 
 mottled texture. Miss Garth's ears were cream- 
 colour, slightly warmed to pink, like the petals of a 
 tea rose. Her ringless fingers were rosy only at the 
 tips. 
 
 She entered w r ith a slight apology for lateness, to 
 which Mr. Cranstoun-Brown cordially replied that 
 Strachan had duly explained. 
 
 Gilbert was standing stiffly on the watch. He had 
 hardly spoken two words to her since the first eve- 
 ning ofiher stay, and he found the sight of her oddly 
 overwhelming. When, not having seen him that 
 morning, she now acknowledged his presence with a 
 slight bow and smile of greeting, he felt ridiculously 
 as if some member of the Royal Family had accorded 
 him gracious recognition. 
 
 As for Charis herself, she had dressed as plainly 
 as she could, with the express intention of being 
 outshone by the other ladies. She now perceived 
 that she had struck the wrong note that something 
 in her elaborate simplicity looked as though holding
 
 j6 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 up the other girls to an unspoken condemnation. She 
 could but trust that such subtleties would not occur 
 to the Redmays family. To the host they did not; 
 his wife and daughters, however, without under- 
 standing, felt obscurely snubbed. 
 
 To cover her own vague sense of dissatisfaction 
 Vee began to chatter. 
 
 "How good something smells! Why, it's lilac! 
 Well, Ma, how many times have I wanted to use our 
 lilac, and you would never let me !" 
 
 Miss Garth glanced at the masses of bloom and 
 laughed up at Strachan. "Miss Cranstoun-Brown 
 has lost her bet; you will get your photo," said she. 
 
 "What's that? What's that?" cried Clara. "A 
 bet between you and Phyllis, George?" 
 
 "I bet Phyllis five pounds to a copy of one of 
 those nice pictures of herself, such as you have on 
 the mantelpiece here, that Miss Garth's lilac would 
 not wilt I ask pardon, would not fade; my secre- 
 tary is particular about my English." 
 
 His cousin caught with glee upon the portion of 
 this remark which she understood. There was some 
 joke, some little incident, between her daughter and 
 George. Phyllis, all smiles, had gone to a drawer 
 and extracted an elaborately mounted and mistily 
 focused photograph, which she presented to 
 Strachan, who received it with empressement. Per- 
 haps he rather spoilt the effect by remarking: 
 
 "I thought my five pounds was pretty safe." 
 
 "But how did you make lilac live in water?" de- 
 manded Vee somewhat peremptorily of Miss Garth.
 
 The Dinner-Party 77 
 
 Before the latter could reply, the one-night butler 
 threw open the door and announced the first arrivals. 
 
 All the rest of the party were assembled by the 
 time a name was given out which made Charis glance 
 towards the door with interest. 
 
 "Mrs. Varick and Major Doran." 
 
 These two were the subject of more or less con- 
 stant talk at Redmays, and she knew them to be 
 brother and sister. 
 
 At first sight of them she felt a slight tremor, for 
 these looked like people of her own sort. Major 
 Doran was good-looking, well set up, and tailored 
 by someone in Savile Row. His sister was a woman 
 you would notice in any room self-possessed, with 
 grace of carriage, and a little head which she held 
 proudly. She was older than Charis had guessed 
 her to be she must have been thirty but at first 
 sight of her one instantly thought, "Oh, you charm- 
 ing creature!" 
 
 Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown presented them both with 
 effusion to Strachan; and Charis, in her capacity of 
 looker-on, watched with interest, as Vee drew near 
 to the conquering major, and Gilbert to his sister. 
 
 "Hallo, Major!" was Vee's greeting, accom- 
 panied by one of her daring looks. "How's the 
 world treating you? And what do you think of our 
 tame millionaire?" 
 
 "Millionaire, eh?" said Doran, turning his gaze 
 upon Strachan with attention; but in an instant he 
 turned abruptly to Vee and said in an undertone : 
 
 "Who is the fair unknown? Is she his wife?"
 
 78 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "The fair unknown?" Vee was genuinely puz- 
 zled. 
 
 "There, over by the window," he went on, "a 
 woman you would not expect to see in Streatwood. 
 In pity tell me who she is. Wonder what that gown 
 cost." 
 
 Vee started. "That! My cousin's secretary, do 
 you mean?" 
 
 "You cousin has my congrats. Worth being a 
 millionaire, if one can do oneself like that in the 
 matter of a secretary. I suppose you and she are 
 pretty chummy, being in the same line of business?" 
 
 Vee coloured angrily. "Not much resemblance. 
 I took on my job for fun, as you know. But she 
 has to earn her living." 
 
 "Earns a good one, judging by her gown," said 
 Doran in an absorbed way. 
 
 "You talk as if she were the only woman in the 
 room who had a gown on," snapped Vee, desperately 
 piqued. She suddenly felt that the local dressmaker 
 was intolerable. What was there in the cut of that 
 little white frock? 
 
 "She makes me feel like that," he answered, un- 
 perturbed. "Do make me known to her, won't 
 you?" 
 
 "Come along, and see if she is as charming as she 
 appears," replied Vee; and though she was trembling 
 with -mortification she managed a light note. She 
 saw her mother cast a baleful glance, but returned it 
 with a defiant glare, led the major up, and presented 
 him to Charis, who received very calmly the full,
 
 The Dinner-Party 79 
 
 steady gaze of fine grey Irish eyes above an abundant 
 golden moustache. 
 
 "Garth?" said Doran gently. "Any relation to 
 General Garth? I was under him at one time." 
 
 "None whatever. None of my uncles is a gen- 
 eral," she replied indifferently. 
 
 "Do you know, I have a kind of idea that I have 
 met you somewhere?" 
 
 "Indeed? Very likely," she replied, with an im- 
 plication that she might easily have met him with- 
 out remembering the fact, which stung him in his 
 very vulnerable vanity. 
 
 "Do let us try and think where it can have been 
 it is a rather fascinating game like that deadly 
 guessing game where you may only reply to such 
 questions as may be answered by 'Yes' or 'No.' ' 
 
 "If that will amuse you," she returned listlessly, 
 and for a moment he thought she was dull; but 
 almost at once he revised his opinion. She lifted her 
 eyes and looked at him, quietly but searchingly ; and 
 somehow that look told him that she was purposely 
 trying to seem dull, in order to detach him. Now 
 why?
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AN EXCITING SCHEME 
 
 MISS GARTH'S honest intention to melt into 
 the background was easier of design than 
 accomplishment. It had seemed to her that the 
 presence at table of a meek supernumerary, plainly 
 garbed, would pass unnoticed save by the male guest 
 who was considered unimportant enough to have to 
 take her in. But the exigencies of precedence had 
 obliged the hostess to place the younger people to- 
 wards the middle of either side, and when they were 
 seated Charis found that she had Major Doran on 
 her left. Her right-hand neighbour, a deaf and 
 nervous middle-aged solicitor, had, of course, the 
 first claim upon her conversation. The major, how- 
 ever, assailed her upon the other side with such per- 
 sistence that finally she was obliged to turn to him. 
 
 As long as his conversational openings were 
 merely "feelers," she was obstinately monosyllabic; 
 but when he proceeded to the mention of a new play 
 lately presented, she yielded to the temptation to 
 discuss it with one who had evidently not only seen 
 much, but had even thought a little. But they had 
 not talked long before the flame of Vee's resentment 
 seemed to reach her like tangible heat. With a 
 hurried "I don't know; ask Miss Veronica she can 
 
 80
 
 An Exciting Scheme 81 
 
 tell you," she turned her shoulder to him and reso- 
 lutely tackled her solicitor, who could apparently fix 
 his mind upon nothing but the culture of salpiglossis. 
 
 "I can assure you," said he earnestly, "hundreds 
 of people with gardens don't know their value as a 
 means of obtaining a mass of varied colour at a small 
 outlay and so easy to grow." 
 
 Her interest was so well feigned that in a burst 
 of confidence he disclosed to her the name of his 
 own special seed merchant, even going the length 
 of writing it down for her upon the back of his name 
 card. It was just as she looked up from this absorb- 
 ing transaction that she caught Gilbert's eye across 
 the table, and wondered what, exactly, it expressed. 
 It was, however, not until much later in the evening, 
 after the emergence of the gentlemen from the din- 
 ing-room, that she found herself near enough to him 
 to ask him. 
 
 "I caught you looking at me across the table in 
 the midst of my struggles to be interested in Mr. 
 Wibley. What were you thinking about, I wonder?" 
 
 He looked for a moment utterly loutish and 
 tongue-tied. 
 
 "Why, I I was just looking . . . you were right 
 opposite me, you know. . . ." 
 
 "Oh, what a let-down for my vanity ! You seemed 
 to be saying so much to be looking so significantly ! 
 I thought you were admiring my Christian charity 
 or perhaps despising my hypocrisy." 
 
 "The second conjecture would be nearer the 
 mark," was his most unexpected answer. "You are
 
 82 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 a good actor. The poor chap had no idea he was 
 boring you . . . but the truth is " 
 
 "Yes? The truth is ?" 
 
 "A thing one never tells," muttered Gilbert, look- 
 ing at the carpet. 
 
 She hesitated, faintly puzzled, and made as if she 
 would pass on. 
 
 "No, don't," he suddenly said. "Sit down here 
 and talk to me. Since that first evening you have 
 hardly spoken to me, and I'm no worse than old 
 Wibley, anyway." 
 
 "Ah, but entertaining you isn't part of my duty," 
 she reminded him demurely. Nevertheless, she sat 
 down, for she was tired. 
 
 Gilbert's vigilant mother was deeply absorbed, at 
 a distance, with her back to them, talking to a com- 
 panion of congenial age and tastes. 
 
 "Now," said the young man deliberately, "I want 
 to know something about yourself. Where do you 
 come from?" 
 
 She looked wicked. "I was born of poor but 
 dishonest parents " 
 
 "We'll cut the prologue," he broke in doggedly 
 and without a smile. "Are you a Londoner?" 
 
 "Kind sir, I am not. I am a sort of Lucy, to tell 
 you the truth. I dwelt among the untrodden ways, 
 beside the springs of not Dove, but some other 
 river of much the same kind. A maid whom there 
 was none to praise and only one to love." 
 
 "Only one?" sharply, and as it were angrily. 
 
 A shade crossed the downbent face upon which
 
 An Exciting Scheme 83 
 
 his eyes were steadily fixed. "Only one, for a long 
 time. My mother died when I was twelve, and my 
 father, so I am told, spoilt me horribly. I never 
 had a brother to take me down, as I hear you take 
 down your sisters. We lived in retirement, and I 
 suppose I grew unbearable, for, after remaining a 
 widower for seven years or so, my father married 
 again." Lifting her eyes for a moment, she inwardly 
 recoiled from the dumb feeling in his, and shook 
 her head with a provoking smile. "Oh, you're quite 
 wrong. The lady didn't turn me out. On the con- 
 trary, she thinks me a perfect toad because I 
 wouldn't stay at home. She thinks I am so selfish to 
 leave her alone in her dullness . . . when she has 
 him, all to herself! That's what I can't bear. She 
 has stolen him from me, and now she has got him 
 she is already tired of it." 
 
 Gilbert said absolutely nothing for some time. 
 Had she reflected, she might have wondered how she 
 knew that his silence was the measure of his sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 "You'll go back," he said at last. 
 
 "You think so? I wonder. What I mind is, not 
 having her in my place as mistress oh, how soon I 
 could forgive her that, if she made him happy! It 
 is the seeing him miserable which upsets me so 1 ... 
 And now," she looked at him challengingly, "you 
 have heard more than I ever told Mr. Strachan!" 
 
 His face changed oddly. His lips quivered. He 
 had large lips, but they were finely cut. "You like 
 my cousin?" he asked.
 
 84 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Not 'alf" whispered she, with a daring smile, 
 which he shared. 
 
 "Will you go back to Canada with him, do you 
 think?" 
 
 "It's possible I might, if he wants me. But, you 
 see, there is a difficulty. In the eyes of a censorious 
 world we still want a chaperon, he and I, in spite of 
 modern emancipation. He is a very proper old dear, 
 and I know he thinks so. So we shall probably be 
 obliged, reluctantly, to part . . ." 
 
 "Or " began Gilbert, and stopped on that. 
 
 "Or engage a chaperon," she finished glibly, "if 
 he takes a house in England. I believe that is what 
 he thinks of doing." 
 
 "He he may do as your father has done," haz- 
 arded Gilbert. 
 
 "He may, of course; but somehow I don't think 
 he will not yet awhile, anyway. He talks always 
 of his dear people, rather as if they were awaiting 
 him the other side of the Atlantic. It's rather 
 pathetic." 
 
 "Yes. It's pathetic." 
 
 "Well," said Miss Garth with some briskness, 
 dragging him out of one of those silences of his 
 which she found oddly eloquent. "Now it's your 
 turn. You've had my history. The second traveller 
 then commenced the narrative of his life. Were you 
 born in this house?" 
 
 "No. I was born in a little white house on the 
 Common. Much nicer, to my thinking, but less 
 pretentious. In those days, the place wasn't much
 
 An Exciting Scheme 85 
 
 built over. It was just leaving off being a village, 
 and my mother used to let me go out to play on the 
 Common." 
 
 "And then I suppose you went to school?" 
 
 "Yes. To Haileybury. I didn't do much good 
 there. However, my mater was set on my going to 
 Oxford, so I went. Never did anything there, 
 either. Just not good enough for my college boat or 
 my college eleven. I'm what they call a hopeless 
 mediocrity." 
 
 "Do they? Then they haven't much discern- 
 ment." 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" 
 
 "A mediocrity could hardly get outside himself 
 and judge himself as you have just done. And 
 what do you do now? Did you, like everybody else, 
 find it hard to settle down after the war?" 
 
 "Hard to settle down? I'd do any job that gave 
 me a chance to earn a living. But there's nothing 
 doing. I'm in my father's office because I can't sit 
 fuming at home ; but I'm farther from advancement 
 of any kind than I was six years ago. However, I 
 hope I see a break in the clouds now " 
 
 "You do?" 
 
 "I want to persuade Strachan to take me out into 
 his business in Canada. Only I'm afraid he thinks 
 I' m a fool " 
 
 As she was about to reply, Major Doran's voice 
 broke in. 
 
 "Miss Garth, you monopolise my company com- 
 mander."
 
 86 The Judgment of Chads 
 
 "Not one of your happiest gambits, Doran," said 
 Gil dryly. "It is I, on the contrary, who am monopo- 
 lising Miss Garth.'" 
 
 "Easily understood; but don't go. I have some- 
 thing to talk about, to both of you. I have been 
 having a long chat with Mr. Strachan, who is posi- 
 tively one of the best. It appears he is intending to 
 go up north to stay with some relatives of his, and 
 wants to do the journey in his car. It dawned upon 
 me that Sheila and I have been contemplating a tour, 
 and that your party is rather big for one car and ours 
 too small. If we have two cars, we can divide more 
 comfortably eh ? Some scheme, Gil ? Your father 
 will give you a fortnight off, won't he?" 
 
 "I can take a fortnight of my holiday now instead 
 of later, if that's what you mean." 
 
 Miss Garth smiled. "You think a tour would 
 bore you, Mr. Cranstoun-Brown? Why not be 
 brave and say you are not coming?" 
 
 "Because I am coming," said Gilbert, in such a 
 snubbing voice that she and Doran laughed teasingly 
 at him. 
 
 "You'll get used to Gil," observed the Major 
 easily. "He's a bit of a Cymon, who hasn't yet met 
 his Iphigenia." 
 
 "Don't understand the allusion," muttered Gil, 
 this time in tones decidedly sulky. 
 
 "Look at your 'Decameron,' if Mrs. Cranstoun- 
 Brown allows such a thing in the house. But now 
 come over here and help us to thrash out this im- 
 portant scheme."
 
 An Exciting Scheme 87 
 
 They both followed him to where Cousin George 
 sat, as it were, enthroned upon the settee, with an 
 air of enjoying himself very much. Beside him was 
 Mrs. Varick, leaning back in her corner, with a face 
 full of approval. Phyllis sat on a low chair, facing 
 them, and Vee knelt at her cousin's knee. 
 
 "Come here, Gilbert, we want you," said Mrs. 
 Varick, with the pretty little air of married-woman 
 patronage which sat so well upon her. "We have 
 hit upon the best idea that has come my way for 
 months, and we owe it to the vast brain of this won- 
 derful cousin of yours !" 
 
 "Yes, isn't he priceless?" cried Vee. "I never 
 thought any real live man could be so attractive." 
 
 Gilbert hunched his shoulders and stared at Sheila 
 in his meditative way. "Strikes me, if Cousin George 
 goes, Doran and I will get a pretty thin time," said 
 he. "Look at you all ! Disgraceful !" 
 
 "You must forgive us !" cried Sheila. "He really 
 is, as Vee says, priceless! He has been telling us 
 all about his early life! He was born in Brough, 
 all among the moors; but as soon as he was old 
 enough to work, they sent him to Darlington, and he 
 was there in a dirty factory, like George Stephenson 
 all among whirring machinery and hot oily smells ! 
 But whenever he had a holiday, he used to escape, 
 up to Teesdale, or the valley of the Greta, and now 
 he is going to stay with his cousin, who is vicar of 
 some place near what he calls 'Barney-Cassell.' ' 
 
 Strachan's eyes twinkled appreciatively at the 
 pretty speaker, who had caught his accent exactly.
 
 88 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I guess I shall be pretty well guyed before this trip 
 is over," said he. "However, go on, little girls I It 
 amuses you, and I can stand it." 
 
 As he spoke, his eye caught that of his secretary, 
 and he saw a disturbed look on her face. "Miss 
 Garth," said he, "I hope this plan of the tour has 
 your approval?" 
 
 Charis flinched. She saw Mrs. Varick's beautiful 
 eyes upturned to her in deep surprise. She caught 
 a hostile flash in the eyes of Phyllis; and, worse than 
 all, she heard from behind her the peculiar little 
 snort which always heralded the annoyance of Mrs. 
 Cranstoun-Brown, who had been busy bidding her 
 guests farewell, and now came to know the meaning 
 of the vivacious group clustered round the sofa. 
 
 "What can it be for which the approval of Miss 
 Garth is so necessary, George?" asked she, with 
 weighty sarcasm. 
 
 "Mr. Strachan was joking," said Charis gently, 
 furious with herself for the hot colour which she 
 could not control and for her knowledge that Major 
 Doran was deeply on the alert. 
 
 "Why, Clara," said Strachan, "I must tell you of 
 this plan which has suddenly leapt into being. We 
 intend to make a tour of the north in my car and that 
 belonging to Major Doran. But you look as if you 
 thought I was hardly to be trusted with all this youth 
 and beauty?" 
 
 "We are rather sweet, aren't we ?" said Vee rap- 
 turously. "As dear Lord Tennyson so winningly put
 
 An Exciting Scheme 89 
 
 it, we are rosebuds set with little wilful thorns, and 
 sweet as English air can make us." 
 
 "And Mrs. Varick," said Strachan gallantly, "is 
 queen rose of the rosebud garden eh?" 
 
 Clara gulped. She began to feel that she might 
 have done more wisely to keep her millionaire to 
 herself than to introduce him to the charming 
 Dorans. With all the force of her will she intended 
 that Gilbert should marry Sheila Varick, and Veron- 
 ica the Major; but as she looked at the unexpected 
 sociability and content of Strachan, she had a sink- 
 ing of the heart. What was there to prevent his re- 
 marriage? Even her maternal partiality could not 
 persuade her that Phyllis was anything like as attrac- 
 tive as Sheila. 
 
 "Do you think," Vee was running on, "that girls 
 ever were really like that? Pouting and babyish and 
 adorable ? I'm sure Ma never was were you, Ma ?" 
 
 "Your mother was a handsome girl," put in 
 Strachan gallantly. "I remember she wore a thing 
 they called a bustle, to hold out her frock behind 
 
 " He broke off, shouted down in a chorus of 
 
 "Shame!" by all the girls. 
 
 In the laughter which followed Mrs. Brown had 
 time to regain her poise. The motoring was a dar- 
 ing scheme, true, but so delightfully modern and 
 wealthy-sounding quite the sort of plan of which 
 she could boast to her acquaintance. Whatever the 
 Dorans did was right in her eyes, and that her own 
 children should, by their cousin's generosity, be in-
 
 90 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 eluded in the tour, was a source of gratification which 
 nothing could spoil. 
 Vee burst out: 
 
 "There once was a bold millionaire 
 Who conducted a bevy of fair 
 
 Young people like posies 
 
 Of lilies and roses 
 And I really can't think how he dare!" 
 
 "Impromptu?" said Doran approvingly. "Good, 
 Miss Veronica, good indeed!" 
 
 "I really can't think how he dare!" repeated 
 Strachan with relish. "My accent and all, you little 
 terror!" 
 
 "I mean to make a book of limericks during the 
 tour and present it to you, Cousin George, on our 
 return if we ever do return, which seems to me 
 unlikely now that I know the Dorans' chauffeur is to 
 go with us, as he is celebrated for emptying me into 
 ditches! Ah, well, well! That was a first instal- 
 ment, merely to give you a touch of my quality ! It 
 is nothing, simply nothing to what I shall venture 
 upon later on in our bold, bad career! I don't know 
 what I may say or do, as Ma won't be there to sit 
 on my head!" 
 
 "No, but I shall," said Doran menacingly. "Have 
 I your leave, Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown, to correct your 
 daughter judiciously?" 
 
 "Steady!" said Strachan dryly. "If this trip 
 comes off, it is understood, please, that I am Dic- 
 tator. I dispense the higher, low, and middle jus- 
 tice. All offenders are brought to me for correc- 
 tion."
 
 An Exciting Scheme 91 
 
 "Agreed!" was the unanimous cry, and the mil- 
 lionaire looked whimsically at his cousin Clara with 
 his hand outstretched. 
 
 "Hear that? Can there be a doubt of my con- 
 trolling them ? This expedition will glide along on 
 velvet now that everybody knows I mean to run it!"
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 COMPARING NOTES 
 
 DIRECTLY Strachan and his secretary were 
 alone together after breakfast the following 
 morning he laid his hand over hers as she sat rather 
 listlessly at the table awaiting his dictation. 
 
 "And now, my dear, tell Daddy all about it," said 
 he tenderly. 
 
 Charis glanced up at him, hesitated. Her lip 
 quivered. 
 
 "You don't like the idea of this trip?" he asked 
 kindly. 
 
 "Oh, what a saint you are ! How you bear with 
 my folly and tantrums I" she murmured, looking 
 down and nervously tracing scrolls on her blotting- 
 paper. "Do please remember that I'm your em- 
 ployee " 
 
 "And no more?" he asked, after an interval. 
 
 His voice sounded hurt, she thought. 
 
 "You are much more to me than just my em- 
 ployer," she said in a low voice, "but that is not to 
 the point. I I've never told you anything of 
 myself I don't say my Past, for that sounds lurid, 
 and very unlike the facts, which are dull as dull can 
 be. But I think you know that I have left home, 
 and and that I don't want my people to know where 
 
 92
 
 Comparing Notes 93 
 
 I am to be found. . . . Oh, I'm not heartless. I 
 send them news of my safety, and they have an ad- 
 dress to which they can write. But I don't want 
 them to track me down. In fact, I won't have it, 
 . . . and, you know, they live up there." 
 
 "Near Brough?" 
 
 "No. Among the lakes. Not far from Hawes 
 Water." 
 
 "Oh, but we can easily avoid " 
 
 She stopped him, with passion. "Don't! Just 
 fancy my whims interfering with your convenience ! 
 You must go where you like, and not consider me. 
 If you are going in that direction, I can easily be 
 taken unwell and get left behind for a few days . . . 
 but that your secretary should be making stipula- 
 tions ! Well, you heard what Mrs. Brown thought 
 of me last night!" 
 
 "I regret extremely that I let you in for anything 
 of the kind. It was thoughtless of me. Well; but 
 now that you have more or less taken me into your 
 confidence, the thing can be managed without an 
 effort." 
 
 "Don't you think," she said, colouring deeply, 
 and evidently forcing herself to make the suggestion, 
 "that I had better not come at all? Could you not 
 do without me? ... Vee is very capable, and a 
 trained secretary." 
 
 He turned with a quick movement and searched 
 her face. "You want to leave me?" 
 
 Her answer was inaudible, but she shook her head 
 in a decided negative. He subjoined, after a silence,
 
 94 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I sometimes think you are in some trouble I could 
 likely help." 
 
 She cleared her throat. "Then I am giving you 
 quite a wrong impression. I am in no trouble. I am 
 enjoying myself hugely. I am absorbing all kinds 
 of new impressions." 
 
 "Studying the curious underworld squirming be- 
 neath your microscope?" 
 
 "Oh!" She started, blushing hotly. "What arc 
 you talking about?" 
 
 He met her gaze humorously. "I'm not quite 
 blind, Miss Garth; and remember, you did let slip 
 the fact that you intended to write a book. I gather 
 you are amassing some new experiences?" 
 
 "Indeed, yes." 
 
 "What of this tour? Won't it help ?" 
 
 "Why, of course, but " 
 
 "From my point of view," he said seriously, "your 
 presence will be invaluable. Character will be dis- 
 played inevitably during such long periods of com- 
 panionship. I shall need my watchwoman more 
 than ever." 
 
 She dwelt upon his kind, wise smile. He was 
 extraordinarily fascinating, and as she gazed the 
 smile broadened, became in fact a chuckle. 
 
 "What is your opinion of Vee?" he asked. 
 
 "I haven't decided yet. But I think I like her." 
 
 "She is vain, though. She likes to show off. She 
 talks at large. Her sister is more honest " 
 
 "No !" cried Charis quickly. 
 
 "You think not?"
 
 Comparing Notes 95 
 
 "I think Phyllis is the cunning one. Vee is easy 
 to see through; the other girl is continually schem- 
 ing." 
 
 He demurred. Evidently his judgment did not 
 jump with hers. "Yesterday, when she and I drove 
 together, I found her more conversable than I ex- 
 pected, and she seemed to be a right-minded girl." 
 
 Charis laughed. "I begin to realise that you do 
 need me, badly," said she. "Men seem to be easily 
 gulled. But, as a matter of fact, I have not nearly 
 made up my own mind yet. I only know which of 
 the family I think has the most character, so far." 
 
 "Which is that?" 
 
 "The son." 
 
 "Gilbert? Well, now you do surprise me. He 
 seems to me both surly and stupid." 
 
 "He said you took him for a fool. Can't you see 
 that his refraining from any attempt to curry favour 
 is an excellent sign? Especially when you represent 
 literally his only hope " 
 
 "His only hope ? How so ?" 
 
 "Why, the war cut him off short, just as he had 
 done with Oxford. Now he is back in civil life, at 
 close on thirty, with no prospects. He wants to go 
 into your business " 
 
 "Well, but do just say what it is you see in him? 
 I grant there is plenty of him physically but besides 
 that?" 
 
 "Perhaps," said she, after a moment's thought, 
 "one has a natural sympathy for anybody that is 
 starving."
 
 96 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Starving?" 
 
 "Yes. He seems to me as though all the better 
 part of him is dwindling and pining away for lack 
 of nourishment, because he is so unlike the rest of 
 his family." 
 
 "Then he has confided in you?" 
 She laughed a little. "That was what made me 
 think it might perhaps be safer for me not to go with 
 you on this tour," said she. "Please don't think me 
 unduly vain. I don't suppose myself irresistible ; but 
 I think I am sympathetic, and if a man has literally 
 
 nobody else to speak to ! However, seriously, 
 
 I don't think we need fear complications of that 
 kind, since Mrs. Varick is coming too." 
 He looked quite startled. "Mrs. Varick?" 
 "She finds Mr. Gilbert interesting, I am sure, and 
 she is really charming." 
 
 "She is indeed. But older than he, I imagine." 
 "Only a year or two. What's that?" 
 He fell silent, turning over these side-lights on 
 the situation in his mind. "I can't picture any pretty 
 woman looking twice at Gilbert Brown," he said at 
 last. 
 
 "As far as I am concerned, make yourself quite 
 comfortable," she answered gaily; "but I assure you 
 there is much more in him than you have discov- 
 ered. Do try and cultivate him. He will never 
 toady to you." 
 
 "Yet he told you he was thirsting for sympathy?" 
 "Mercy, no! Nothing of the kind. I know it
 
 Comparing Notes 97 
 
 by my psychological insight little casual things, 
 dropped unconsciously." 
 
 "Things he would never, conceivably, have said 
 tome?" 
 
 "Certainly not." 
 
 He smiled upon her humorously. "I'm glad you 
 think of writing a book. It should be a clever 
 one." 
 
 She shook her head, laughing. 
 
 "What impression," he wished to know, "was 
 made upon you by the psychology of the great Major 
 Doran?" 
 
 "Ah," said she mischievously, "I wasn't hired to 
 report upon him. His psychology doesn't come in." 
 
 "Pardon me. If he should marry either of my 
 young cousins, it would certainly come in." 
 
 "I see 1 Well then, after what I heard the girls 
 say, I was agreeably disappointed. I pictured the 
 spoilt eligible of a second-rate neighbourhood. But 
 he is an interesting talker, and didn't try one bit to 
 patronise the humble secretary, though Vee care- 
 fully assured him of my dependent position at once, 
 to save mistakes." 
 
 Strachan's smile widened to a grin. "I advise 
 you to begin that book at once," said he, taking up 
 the letter she laid before him, and smoothing it out; 
 "but if you write it and don't give me a chance to 
 read it, I'll never forgive you I"
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 COLONEL MORRISON WONDERS 
 
 MAJOR DORAN and Mrs. Varick dined at 
 Redmays the night before the party started 
 on their tour. Since the first arrangement the party 
 had been increased by the addition of a friend of 
 the major's, one Colonel Morrison. 
 
 This was the eldest son of a local landowner. He 
 was a friend of Gilbert and Doran, having had 
 much to do with the raising to a war-footing of 
 their battalion. 
 
 Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown did not welcome his so- 
 ciety altogether, since she believed him to have in- 
 tentions upon Mrs. Varick. But, on the other hand, 
 he represented the top note of social importance 
 in her eyes. He intended to stand for the con- 
 stituency at the next election, and the thought of 
 being able to talk to her friends of his presence 
 as a member of the party gave her indescribable 
 pleasure. 
 
 She looked back with thankfulness upon her own 
 foresight in determining that Gilbert and Vee should 
 go to Oxford. Joseph had had his doubts, but she 
 had insisted. Her children would now, she hoped, 
 take their places one step higher on the ladder than 
 
 98
 
 Colonel Morrison Wonders 99 
 
 their parents, a circumstance which seemed to their 
 mother matter for rejoicing. 
 
 What with her anxieties respecting the disposal 
 of Strachan's fortune, and her matrimonial schemes, 
 she was consumed with an excitement and a pre- 
 occupation which she found most distracting. She 
 had taken, by slow degrees, a fixed and increasing 
 dislike to Miss Garth, and was convinced that this 
 young woman meant to marry either the millionaire 
 himself, or her son, the millionaire's heir. It was 
 her daily manoeuvre to prevent Charis from being 
 seated next either Strachan or Gilbert at table. 
 Charis was usually placed between her host and 
 Phyllis; but on this night Colonel Morrison's pres- 
 ence made the sexes equal, and it was impossible 
 to avoid putting Gilbert on one side of the siren. 
 
 As soon as the talk became general, Gilbert 
 started to make the most of his chance. 
 
 "Do you remember Doran, when he was here the 
 other night, called me Cymon, and said I had not 
 met my Iphigenia?" 
 
 "Yes, I think I do." 
 
 "I had no idea what he meant. I thought of 
 Simple Simon, or something else equally uncompli- 
 mentary. Of course, there was not a Boccaccio in 
 the house ; but I bought one, and found out." 
 
 Miss Garth had grown red. "Major Doran has 
 a smart tongue," said she, "and people who talk 
 smartly are apt to be careless. The allusion was 
 neither courteous nor true." 
 
 "It was awfully interesting," he replied, "and I
 
 ioo The Judgment of Charis 
 
 have been thinking about it a good deal. I am so 
 like Cymon that I can follow the workings of his 
 mind. I have always realised that I don't easily get 
 on with people; but I knew that was because I don't 
 like what they like, or think as they think. It did 
 not dawn on me that everybody looked on me as a 
 dolt. Well, I think Cymon was in the same case. 
 He wasn't an idiot really he had simply never be- 
 fore come across the thing he was looking for 
 like a match that has never been struck, you know. 
 I expect he wished, afterwards, that the thing had 
 never happened. It's a bad thing for shepherds to 
 cultivate a taste for king's daughters, isn't it?" 
 
 Miss Garth was so surprised that she was taken 
 at a disadvantage. "That would depend, wouldn't 
 it," she answered vaguely, "on him, and on the 
 princess too?" 
 
 "You mean, was she what Hans Andersen calls a 
 real princess?" 
 
 "Perhaps I meant rather what did she stand 
 for, to him? If the sight of her opened his eyes to 
 what was noble and beautiful, he would be better 
 and happier for the meeting, would he not?" 
 
 "What, if he had to go back and marry into his 
 own class?" 
 
 "Now, what has class to do with it? Is there 
 no beauty or nobility but in one? His vision of the 
 princess has taught him to look out for it, and if he 
 seeks he will find." 
 
 After a pause Gilbert said : "Cymon wasn't seek-
 
 Colonel Morrison Wonders 101 
 
 ing. He was just mooning along as usual . . . and 
 there she was." 
 
 "But don't you see" she was talking eagerly 
 now, as to an equal "half the significance of what 
 you perceive is in yourself! You were right when 
 you said Cymon cannot have been a dolt. If there 
 was nothing in him to respond, he would have gazed 
 unmoved upon the loveliest of women." 
 
 "Which is what Ulysses meant when he said, 'I 
 am a part of all that I have met.' ' 
 
 She was surprised at his aptness. 
 
 "Do you feel it a difficulty," he went on, "that 
 the Kingdom of Heaven is sometimes found by those 
 who don't know they are looking for it?" 
 
 "No. Because their part comes after the dis- 
 covery. They must go and sell all they have and 
 buy the field. There are the two qualities that make 
 all greatness effort and sacrifice !" 
 
 "If they preached like that in church, they might 
 get one to listen," observed Gil without a smile." 
 
 "Preaching, indeed!" she answered lightly. "Let 
 us talk of something less grave the fun we shall 
 have to-morrow I Will you not be glad not to have 
 to put on a stiff collar and go to the city? Doesn't 
 the thought make your blood dance?" 
 
 "So much so that I have to sit tight and keep it 
 under," he replied. "I can hardly believe it can be 
 going to happen to me. I wish I need never go back 
 to a London office. However, when I catch myself 
 feeling like that in future, I shall say to myself, 
 'Effort and sacrifice.' "
 
 IO2 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 As her eyes met his for a moment, Charis shiv- 
 ered. This must not be. She turned to her host, 
 who was on her other side, and definitely included 
 him in the conversation. He was a great authority 
 upon the roads in his neighbourhood, and she suc- 
 ceeded in interesting him so much that his son could 
 not lure her back into the intimacy of private talk. 
 
 After dinner, someone nobody quite knew who 
 suggested Dumb Crambo. 
 
 In the unimaginative family of Cranstoun-Brown 
 it had never been seen before. The Dorans, how- 
 ever, were quite used to it, so Mrs. Brown, at first 
 somewhat inclined to bristle, soon grew to think it 
 the most delightful of sports. 
 
 She was amazed, as was also Strachan, at the 
 effects produced with a few scarves, cloaks, hats, and 
 shawls. Miss Garth, it soon appeared, was an 
 adept, and Major Doran contrived to appear in 
 almost every scene in conjunction with her. They 
 sat together in a casino, with cigarettes and little 
 piles of money, with Gilbert as croupier and Mor- 
 rison as a plunger who finally put a revolver to his 
 own head and shot himself. They strolled past a 
 ranting speaker in Hyde Park, and stood to listen 
 to what he said, while Vee picked their pockets and 
 was arrested by Gil, in an old volunteer uniform. 
 Then Doran played a serenade under her window, 
 and she leaned out and tossed him a rose. 
 
 In the midst of her complacency this angered 
 Mrs. Brown, who ascribed all 'to the secretary's
 
 Colonel Morrison Wonders 103 
 
 machinations. However, Strachan, who sat beside 
 her, was so delighted and amused that she was 
 ashamed to show any dissatisfaction. 
 
 Gilbert had at first declined to take any part in 
 the proceedings. Miss Garth quickly induced him 
 to change his mind, and he proved, in fact, a great 
 acquisition, having perfect control over his facial 
 muscles. 
 
 Towards the end of the evening, when invention 
 was waning, and the fatigued company was search- 
 ing for a rhyme to the word "bake," Gilbert sud- 
 denly went up to Miss Garth and said, "Let us have 
 a really good one for the last. Let it be 'Wake.' 
 I'll be Cymon if you'll be Iphigenia." 
 
 He said it purposely in the hearing of Doran, 
 who eagerly caught up the idea. Miss Garth 
 pressed the part upon Mrs. Varick, but as she had 
 just been performing the death of Cleopatra, she 
 declined, and began to help group the picture before 
 Charis had time to object. Gilbert placed screens 
 across the garden end of the drawing-room, so that 
 the audience could not see his arrangement of the 
 couch covered with a leopard-skin. He then pro- 
 ceeded to attire himself, by wrapping puttees round 
 his evening trousers, taking off his coat, rolling the 
 sleeves back from his brawny arms, wrapping him- 
 self in a rough frieze cloak, and ruffling his hair till 
 it fell over his forehead. 
 
 Miss Garth let down her tumultuous locks, and 
 lay on the couch with her white dress draped in
 
 104 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 silvery drapery, and Doran grouped the other girls 
 in attitudes of slumber about her feet. 
 
 When the screens were withdrawn, Gil was out- 
 side, in the blue summer night. The gravel crunched 
 under his deliberate tread, and he came in, carrying 
 his alpenstock, shaded his eyes, peered at the sleep- 
 ing group, advanced, and halted at the foot of the 
 couch like a man turned to stone. 
 
 It was all a makeshift, rough, unfinished, but it 
 was quite beautiful. Strachan felt himself holding 
 his breath. 
 
 Gil, after standing perfectly still for a long 
 breathing space, moved a little nearer, sank to his 
 knees, and clasped his hands. 
 
 "I hope he won't kiss her," muttered the hostess 
 uneasily. 
 
 "That," said Doran, "would be quite out of keep- 
 ing. This is not the Sleeping Beauty. It is the 
 Boccaccio story of Cymon and Iphigenia." 
 
 "Oh, of course," said the lady, who had never 
 heard of the author, but in view of the intimacy 
 which seemed to exist between him and Major 
 Doran dare not say so. 
 
 Strachan came to her rescue with an avowal of 
 the utmost frankness. "I confess to ignorance, 
 Doran. I know of only one Iphigenia, and she, if 
 memory does not play me false, was the daughter 
 of Agamemnon." 
 
 The Major rose, and drew the screen across. 
 "The story is that Cymon, who had always been
 
 Colonel Morrison Wonders 105 
 
 taken for a fool, was uplifted by the sight of per- 
 fect beauty and perfect purity into a fully developed 
 and charming young man. It's not unlikely, you 
 know. The sort of thing that does happen, now 
 and then." 
 
 An uncomfortable instinct told Strachan that it 
 had undoubtedly happened to his cousin Gilbert. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Varick, as she and the two 
 gentlemen were whizzed homeward, "how do you 
 like your future fellow-travellers, Colonel?" 
 
 "Quite pleasant people," he returned, with cor- 
 diality, "especially Mr. Strachan. The lady who 
 makes most impression is, however, the visitor, Miss 
 Garford, or Garforth, I think." 
 
 "Oh! Mr. Strachan's secretary, who is staying 
 in the house. Garth is the name, not Garford." 
 
 "Garth!" said Morrison, sitting suddenly erect. 
 "Did you say Garth?" 
 
 "Why, do you know her? No relation of the 
 General I asked her." 
 
 "Some friends of mine," began Morrison, and 
 paused. "Do you happen to know who she is, and 
 where she comes from?" he asked. 
 
 "Sorry," said Mrs. Varick discouragingly, "I 
 never heard of her until Mr. Strachan brought her 
 to stay at Redmays." 
 
 "You haven't by chance heard her refer to the 
 Trenby Hostel? It's a sort of residential club for 
 ladies in London."
 
 106 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "We can easily find out in the course of our 
 travels," suggested the Major. 
 
 "Is she coming along? Good!" said Morrison, 
 with satisfaction. "If she should be the girl I think 
 she is rather fun. I wonder 1"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 IN TEESDALE 
 
 DEAR CLEM, Your letter sounds horribly 
 like a threat. You say that you have dis- 
 covered my alias and will set detectives to trace 
 me. But what, conceivably, could you gain by that? 
 I imagine that it would not be hard to find me. And 
 afterwards what? You talk as if you could have 
 me arrested, or brought to justice. But you can't! 
 I have done nothing except try to put myself out 
 of reach of your importunity; and I only did that 
 after warning you very plainly. 
 
 "Let me write down once more, in so many words, 
 my unalterable decision, / will not marry you ever. 
 
 "I know I have taken back my word. I know we 
 were engaged, and I have ended the engagement. 
 I am ashamed of myself, but I don't regret what I 
 did. You talk as if I had broken a marriage vow. 
 Nothing of the kind. I have merely changed my 
 mind before it was too late. 
 
 "I am quite certain Dad does not cannot 
 know how you are behaving; unless you have got 
 hold of Bertalda and enlisted her help to coerce 
 the poor old man, as you have tried to coerce me ! 
 So far, I have not distressed him by telling him what 
 
 107
 
 io8 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 you are making me endure ; but I advise you gravely 
 don't push me too far. 
 
 "In a word, you have got to take me seriously. 
 I am altogether in earnest. I am by no means des- 
 titute (as you suggest) of family feeling. I would 
 do a great deal to keep the property together; but 
 I stop short of making myself an Iphigenia. It is 
 not solely selfishness which moves me it is partly 
 of you that I think; for if I were miserable in mar- 
 riage, I should inevitably make you miserable too. 
 You and I could never live together. Though we 
 are of the same blood, your country is not my coun- 
 try, neither are your gods my gods. So please, 
 Clem, don't, annoy me any more, otherwise I may 
 take steps which you will regret very much. Your 
 affectionate cousin, CHARIS OSBOURNE." 
 
 Miss Garth laid down her pen and sighed. She 
 sat in that historic room in the King's Head, Bar- 
 nard Castle, which is known as the Dickens room; 
 and as it was Wednesday, which, as all the world 
 knows, is market-day in "Barney," she gazed out 
 over a scene of lively activity. 
 
 To her right the market house, where sat the 
 farmers' wives, in from the Dales with their but- 
 ter, cheese, poultry and eggs, was like a swarming 
 hive, with busy customers popping in and out of 
 every entrance. Before her, the long, narrow, un- 
 even market-square was choked in the centre with 
 every kind of vehicle, chiefly dog-carts and gov- 
 erness carts, but with a good sprinkling of "Fords"
 
 In Teesdale 109 
 
 all lying idle while their owners bought and sold, 
 ate and drank, or visited their lawyer and their 
 bank. Had she known it, she was close to the scene 
 of a wonderful war-feat; for it was here, in this 
 market-place, that a young and beautiful girl dur- 
 ing the war "carried on" a solicitor's business for a 
 dead father and absent brother. In those days, 
 the hard-bitten farmers of the Dale found a pretext 
 most market-days to "look in" upon their legal ad- 
 viser! But that is another story. 
 
 Charis was alone in the Dickens room. She had 
 begged to be left to finish Strachan's correspond- 
 ence, while the others went to investigate the mar- 
 ket, to photograph the Norman door of the church, 
 and to see the celebrated "Blagrove's House," where 
 Cromwell lay one historic night. 
 
 Her business done, she had seized the chance to 
 indite the letter here given; and she had barely 
 finished, stamped and sealed it, when rapid foot- 
 steps were heard approaching, and Major Doran 
 peeped in. 
 
 "Miss Garth I'm sent to bring you to the 
 Castle! Come along you must see it the view 
 along the Tees is simply topping!" 
 
 The summons brought her back to the present 
 moment in welcome fashion. Gladly she turned her 
 thoughts from disagreeable preoccupations, and 
 catching up her hat from the table, stood before 
 the mirror to pin it on. 
 
 Doran, watching the performance, was approv- 
 ing the hat and its wearer. Since quitting the re-
 
 no The Judgment of Charis 
 
 pressive influence of Streatwood and Mrs. Crans- 
 toun-Brown, Charis had insensibly slackened slightly 
 in her restraint, and ceased consciously to play the 
 part of a salaried employee. "I'm just ready," she 
 said joyously. "Will you collect that package of 
 letters, please? We will put them in the box as we 
 go down ! What a gay old town this is, isn't it?" 
 
 "I expect it's not always as brisk as it is on mar- 
 ket-days," said the Major, "but for natural beauty 
 of situation, I know few towns to beat it. Have 
 you a sunshade to protect that dinky hat? Come 
 along!" 
 
 Together they issued into the sunny market- 
 place ; but, turning immediately to their left, passed 
 under the inn, through what were once the outer 
 courts of the mighty fortress built by Bernard de 
 Balliol, to the entrance of the poor yet majestic 
 remnant now standing. The rest of the party were 
 awaiting them within the keep itself, where Sheila 
 Varick, who was a great amateur photographer, was 
 busy obtaining a snapshot of the raging river and 
 high woods from the window. Gilbert Brown was 
 helping her he was a man who could do most things 
 with his hands and he had an unerring eye for 
 the best view-point. Sheila was looking sweet, in 
 her dainty linen gown, her face flushed with the; 
 interest and pleasure of the moment. For the last 
 few years she had had no heart for life no force 
 for the gaiety natural to her; now, for the first time 
 since her widowhood, this was returning.
 
 In Teesdale ill 
 
 "Ha!" said she, "here come Norman and Miss 
 Garth I I really think that is a case, you know." 
 
 "Oh?" said Gilbert in his non-committal fashion. 
 
 "Well look at him! And think of his usual 
 manner with girls ! I couldn't believe it at first." 
 
 "Why, because you thought he would look 
 higher?" 
 
 "No, because I undervalued his taste," said she 
 mischievously. "Miss Garth's style is a bit subtle, 
 you know. I should not have felt certain of Nor- 
 man's appreciating her." 
 
 "Would you be pleased, then, if " 
 
 "If he had strength of mind to let it be known in 
 Streatwood that he had succumbed to a nobody with 
 nothing speaking as the world speaks? Well, 
 then, yes! I should. It would be very good for 
 Norman to have to go through such an ordeal ; and 
 also I think very good for him to have a wife of 
 such a calibre. 
 
 "You call her subtle?" 
 
 "Well don't you?" 
 
 "I'm no judge of anything." 
 
 "Sorry to hear that. Have I then no grounds 
 for pride when you praise my photographs?" 
 
 "I'm afraid not. I have no standards. I only 
 know what I like." 
 
 "Your saying that shows that you might acquire 
 standards?" 
 
 "Perhaps. But it's a long business. I expect 
 I awoke too late " 
 
 "Jwoket"
 
 H2 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 " and the atmosphere at Redmays is not 
 
 stimulating to intellectual effort." 
 
 Mrs. Varick laughed, a delicious gurgling laugh, 
 and looked at Gilbert with deep interest. 
 
 "It isn't exactly intellect that you have," said she 
 musingly. "It's character. I think you are remark- 
 able." 
 
 "So I am. Remarkably commonplace. I some- 
 times think I'm more like a whetstone than any- 
 thing else something for other people to sharpen 
 their wits upon." 
 
 Her reply to this was lost in the sound of the 
 advancing party, who now surged up the stairs from 
 the guard-room, all of them talking at once. 
 
 "Mrs. Varick," said Strachan, "no more photog- 
 raphy for the minute, please. You are coming with 
 me to the top of the tower." 
 
 "Of course I am, you irresistible man! Or to 
 the moon if you should so order it! Where," she 
 went on as she followed him up the stair, "has your 
 High Mightiness arranged for us to go this after- 
 noon?" 
 
 "I have planned that we will go where you choose. 
 But since the world is wide, I have taken the pre- 
 caution of collecting a few alternatives to set be- 
 fore you. Ah now! What do you think of that 
 for a prospect?" 
 
 They had emerged from the narrow ascent in the 
 thickness of the wall, to where the roofless, broken 
 keep stands open to the day, with a few more 
 pathetic steps, leading on, leading nowhither.
 
 In Teesdale 113 
 
 Strachan seated Mrs. Varick upon the topmost one 
 and with a sweep of the arm bade her look around. 
 
 "The world," said she, with a sigh of pleasure, 
 "is indeed wide." 
 
 There lay before her on the one hand the roll- 
 ing slopes which run down toward the plain of York 
 and the industrial towns. Beneath, the tumbling, 
 rocky Tees was caught in the teeth of one black, 
 wicked-looking mill before it streamed under the 
 arches of the massive Tudor bridge which spans it 
 just at the foot of Bernard's stronghold. Far away 
 north and west the blue lines of the Pennines lifted 
 like a heaving sea. 
 
 Strachan stared at the river. "I saw it once, in 
 spate don't ask me how many years ago. I was 
 a little lad at the time. That year, the flood entered 
 and destroyed some old slum houses that used to 
 stand over there. It came down so sharply that it 
 caught a man with a horse and cart upon the bridge 
 itself. I didn't see that happen. . . . On the para- 
 pet of that same bridge is a dab of colour red 
 colour which they renew every year, to mark the 
 place where one dark night a man flung his sweet- 
 heart into the river and drowned her. ... As you 
 may have heard Vee reading out of the guide-book 
 just now, the spectre of Richard the Third is sup- 
 posed to haunt this castle. That window, with no 
 chamber behind it, overlooking the river, was the 
 window of his room. They say a light burns there, 
 times, after dark. . . . When I was a boy I would 
 slink out nights, in hopes I would see that ghastly
 
 H4 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 glimmer. I never did. But there was an old man 
 lived in Barney then, who swore to me that he had 
 seen it." 
 
 "You make me feel the spell of the place," mur- 
 mured Sheila, looking at him very sweetly. "I do 
 like touring with you." 
 
 "I little thought then that I would one day be 
 back here, with money enough to buy the borough," 
 he mused on, aloud. "I longed for money then; 
 and I have got it. But" his voice broke oddly 
 "I have lost all the rest." 
 
 "I too," said Sheila heavily; and she laid warm, 
 sympathetic fingers over his. 
 
 "Ah, but you are young life is before you yet. 
 I have made my throw, and lost it." 
 
 "Yet you're brave and unselfish enough to give 
 others a pleasure which you can't altogether share." 
 
 "I will own, Mrs. Varick, that just now I am 
 finding virtue to a very considerable extent its own 
 reward," he broke in, with his twinkling glance of 
 humour. 
 
 "Oh!" cried she suddenly, "look at Mr. Cran- 
 stoun-Brown! Is it safe?" 
 
 Strachan glanced up. Gilbert and Miss Garth 
 were making the circuit of the keep, walking upon 
 the broken masonry. He smiled. 
 
 "I don't think there's any danger, so long as one 
 has a good head." 
 
 The Brown girls and the other two men were, 
 however, of Mrs. Varick's opinion, and a chorus
 
 In Teesdale 115 
 
 of cries arose, Doran shouting to Gilbert rather 
 peevishly not to allow Miss Garth to take risks. 
 
 "There's no question of permission, thanks, 
 Major," cried Charis airily. "I do as I choose." 
 
 "On the contrary, Signorina," said Strachan in a 
 carrying voice, "you do as / choose." 
 
 "Oh, yes! I acknowledge your authority, of 
 
 course !" 
 
 "Good ! Then run around as many towers as you 
 choose, while you are still young and cool-headed." 
 
 "Such tosh! No danger at all," muttered Gil- 
 bert, giving her a hand down to the tiny gallery in 
 which the rest of them were crowded. 
 
 "Is this afternoon's expedition decided?" inquired 
 Morrison of Strachan. 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Varick hasn't yet given the word 
 Go; but the suggestion before her is that the cars 
 take us up the Durham side of Tees to the gate lead- 
 ing to High Shipley, said to have been a hunting- 
 lodge of James II. There you shall see the bed- 
 stead upon which, so says tradition, the royal limbs 
 reposed. After that, following the grass ride which 
 was once the avenue of approach to the house, we 
 will cross the Tees and ascend the bank, past 
 Woden's Croft, to the Fairy Cupboards. There I 
 trust we shall find Horn with the tea-baskets; and 
 thence we will motor home." 
 
 Mrs. Varick sighed with bliss. "What a courier 
 you would have made ! And what an abode of en- 
 chantment this neighbourhood seems to be! Mys-
 
 n6 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 terious lights in ruins royal bedsteads and what, 
 oh, tell us, what are Fairy Cupboards?" 
 
 "They are, I am told, the result of the grinding 
 together of stone and water. A big stone is washed 
 down into a recess by the force of the current, and 
 cannot escape, so it grinds round and round until it 
 grinds itself a hole like those moulins they show 
 you in Lucerne." 
 
 "Would Fairy Cupboards be good places in which 
 to store valuables, I wonder?" said Gilbert dreamily, 
 speaking to nobody in particular. 
 
 "Let's try!" cried Vee. "We will each deposit 
 a treasured wish in one of the Cupboards, and see 
 what the fairies do with it!" 
 
 "They are presumably Norse fairies," chimed in 
 Morrison, "so near to Woden's Croft, and Thor's 
 Gill " 
 
 "And just at the mouth of Baldur's Dale," eagerly 
 put in Charis. "The Danes must have taken posses- 
 sion pretty thoroughly in Teesdale." 
 
 "The place is chock-full of history, right along," 
 said the gratified Strachan. "I felt sure you would 
 all like it." 
 
 "Cousin George, don't let us be in too great a 
 hurry to get to Aunt Nicholson's," entreated Vee. 
 "Time enough to arrive when this weather breaks." 
 
 "Well, it seems your aunt can't do with us just 
 yet awhile," was the reply, as he took a letter from 
 his pocket. "Their house is vurry small; they can 
 only put up myself and the two girls. The rest of
 
 In Teesdale 117 
 
 you must go to the inn at Fratton Beck, and they 
 have no room for us there for a full week." 
 
 "Good biz !" cried everybody, in a kind of chorus. 
 
 "And so say all of us!" sang Vee, as a move was 
 made by evacuating the keep. The others took up 
 the refrain, and a smile of real pleasure and gratifi- 
 cation mantled the face of the millionaire, as, in the 
 
 grassy court below, he bowed his acknowledgments. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The afternoon proved as cloudlessly fair as the 
 morning had been; and the river valley was at its 
 most bewitching as they descended, through a steep 
 green wood, to the boulder-strewn curve of shore 
 where Horn, the chauffeur, with the tea-hampers 
 awaited them. 
 
 The young men took off their shoes and waded 
 over the shelf-like rocks to obtain a better view of 
 the curious pot-holes known as Fairy Cupboards; 
 which really are a good deal like the ambries one 
 finds in old church walls. Vee and Charis both fol- 
 lowed their example, to the annoyance of Phyllis, 
 who suffered badly from corns, and could not show 
 her feet. Poor Phyllis ! She would have died rather 
 than admit how hard she found it to fit in with the 
 rest of the party. Like her mother, she had no 
 sense of humour, and, could she have found some- 
 one to sentimentalise with her, would sooner have 
 used these romantic spots as excuses for flirtation. 
 She made the attempt in turn with all the gentle- 
 men of the party, only to be met with what "she de- 
 scribed to herself as "that eternal ragging."
 
 n8 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 In full hearing of Miss Garth, she told Veronica 
 that she was ashamed of her messing about like a 
 tripper; and was vexed that the secretary gave no 
 sign of either hearing or heeding what she said. 
 
 Vee merely retorted that she was in the same 
 happy position as Mr. Albert Henry Biwens, hav- 
 ing been given leave to paddle by her Daddy 
 Strachan; and as Phyllis was the sole member of 
 the party who did not know her "Just-so Stories," 
 she once more felt herself isolated and aggrieved. 
 
 "I say, Miss Garth, you've left your shoes and 
 stockings in rather a damp place 1" called Doran. 
 
 "Please put them into safety for me," cried back 
 the girl, who had ventured right across the river 
 with the help of Gilbert. The Major daintily picked 
 up the heap of feminine trifles a little bag, gloves, 
 footwear and handkerchief. A puff of air caught 
 the latter and blew it upon Colonel Morrison's knee, 
 as he sat by Sheila Varick. 
 
 "Who's the owner of this very pretty thing?" he 
 asked, picking it up. "Ah! Initials in the corner 
 here: C. O. Which of us does that fit, eh?" 
 
 "It's Miss Garth's handkerchief," said the 
 Major, clambering over to him to reclaim it. 
 
 Morrison whistled softly. A curious look crossed 
 his face, and he arched his brows. "Bit of a give- 
 away, that," he murmured. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Sheila in a low voice, 
 arrested by his expression. 
 
 "Well, Madame, I'm afraid I can't tell you. It's 
 a very curious bit of confirmation of a suspicion I
 
 In Teesdale 119 
 
 have had ever since the beginning of this tour. I'm 
 wondering whether, though I mustn't tell you, I 
 ought to feel myself bound to tell somebody else." 
 
 "I'm half dead with curiosity but, Colonel, I 
 tell you plainly if you say or do anything to dis- 
 turb the harmony of this party, I'll never forgive 
 you!" 
 
 "Precisely my own feeling. Especially since the 
 young lady in question is not, so far as I know, try- 
 ing to hide anything to her own discredit. If I'm 
 right about her and I'm practically certain I am 
 it's exactly the contrary. ... So I believe, for 
 the present, I'll let things slide shall I ?"
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CHANGING PARTNERS 
 
 EARLY summer is the hey-day of the north. 
 The wealth of wild flowers, the carpets of 
 primrose and blue-bell in the woods, the white mist 
 of bird-cherry and hawthorn bloom, made it seem 
 an enchanted land. 
 
 Charis was finding the days quite unexpectedly 
 agreeable. Major Doran, his sister, and the 
 Colonel, were all interesting the Major amusing, 
 the Colonel cultivated, and Mrs. Varick witty. Gil- 
 bert Brown was taciturn, but when he spoke, it was 
 to the point; while Veronica, though jarring at 
 times, was occasionally almost brilliant. In short, 
 the fly in the ointment was the elder Miss Brown; 
 and she, never intentionally comic, was uninten- 
 tionally so, in the persistent clumsiness with which 
 she set herself to woo George Strachan, the object 
 of her attentions being not only unconscious of 
 them, but also the sole member of the party who 
 remained so. 
 
 He thought Phyllis a good sort of girl, stupid, 
 and somewhat outclassed by the nimble wits of the 
 others; and in his anxiety that she should not feel 
 out of it, there was, it must be owned, some 
 emphasis laid upon the distinguished kindness which 
 
 120
 
 Changing Partners 12 1 
 
 he showed her; and this, in her conceit, she accepted 
 as a sign that he meant to make her his wife. 
 
 Looking upon him as her own property, she was 
 resenting, every day more definitely, the tender kind 
 of intimacy which existed, beyond doubt, between 
 Strachan and his secretary. Phyllis told herself that 
 he would be altogether hers were it not for the 
 machinations of Miss Garth. She never lost a 
 chance of snubbing or contradicting Charis, often 
 in the hearing of the others. 
 
 Her venom grew each hour more difficult to hide, 
 as each completed day of their tour found her still 
 short of the goal it was so essential she should reach. 
 
 One morning, Vee, opening a letter from their 
 mother, took out an enclosure, glanced at the ad- 
 dress, and tossed it across the breakfast-table to 
 Phyllis, with a meaning glance. 
 
 "Look out, Phyl," said she warningly. "I won- 
 der Ma didn't open that." 
 
 Phyl, with one of her deep, purplish blushes, took 
 the letter and stuffed it into her little bag. "Non- 
 sense," said she tartly. 
 
 "Well, I advise you to do something about it," 
 returned Vee in an irritating manner; and Charis 
 wondered what was behind. The commercial- 
 shaped envelope seemed to contain a bill. 
 
 All that day Phyllis stuck to her cousin with a 
 persistence which at last wearied even his good 
 temper. 
 
 "Try," said he to Charis after lunch, "to get Phyl 
 put into the other car for a change, will you? I
 
 122 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 have had her company ever since I got up this morn- 
 ing, and I'm about through with her. She's a good 
 enough girl, but it's like carrying about a tame 
 echo ditto to everything I say. Wearisome." 
 
 It was so seldom his patience gave out, that 
 Charis determined it should be as he desired. But 
 she got no opening to make the suggestion, though 
 she was occupied with schemes for bringing it about. 
 At last, finding that she was powerless, single- 
 handed to detach the devoted follower, she deter- 
 mined to apply to Gilbert for help. They were 
 spending the day in Richmond, had lunched at the 
 hotel, and were making the round of the castle ruins. 
 
 They had all crowded into the diminutive chapel 
 in the outer wall, where is still the stone slab which 
 once served for an altar, and the remains of the 
 carving above the arcaded seats around the wall. 
 Gilbert lingered within when the rest emerged, 
 studying the light; and Charis seized her chance. 
 
 "Mrs. Varick," he was remarking, "wants this 
 photographed; but there's no light. It would need 
 a longish time-exposure." 
 
 "Offer to do it for her," murmured the girl 
 quickly. "I'll stay and help. I want to ask you 
 something." 
 
 He raised his eyes to hers with the steady, earnest 
 look he always gave her; and after a just perceptible 
 moment in which he let her wish sink in, as it were, 
 he said quietly: "Right. I'll fetch the tripod." 
 
 When he returned, bringing the camera, she sat 
 niched in one of the arched recesses.
 
 Changing Partners 123 
 
 "I'd like a picture of you there like that," he 
 remarked, in contemplation; and his face was that 
 of a votary. 
 
 "No not here," she cut in quickly. "Don't spoil 
 the dignity of this beautiful place like that." 
 
 He smiled with a quiet relish as he adjusted his 
 instrument. "I like to watch your face when you 
 are in these places," he said. "You are so far away. 
 More than once I have addressed you and you 
 haven't heard. I know you are back in the times 
 when this place was in full going order." 
 
 "You know that ? But how ?" 
 
 "Set a thief to catch a thief. It's because I'm 
 like that myself." 
 
 She laughed in triumph. "Aha ! Then you can 
 sympathise ! But you are such a moderate minded 
 person." 
 
 "Am I?" 
 
 "You seem so! Now I am conscious of a crav- 
 ing so violent that I'm quite ashamed of it, to 
 glimpse one of these places as it used to be. ... 
 Those passage-ways in the wall, that now look out 
 on vacancy . . . think of the slinking, at dead of 
 night, of some caitiff man-at-arms, on his way to 
 show a signal light to the enemy! Or some trem- 
 bling lady, thinking she heard the hoofs of her 
 returning lord's steed in the great courtyard. . . . 
 Oh, picture the gateway, humming with life churls 
 bringing in country produce beggars, harpers, 
 strolling players pedlars with packs full of the 
 materials for ladies' work . . . and the great
 
 124 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 kitchen, where perhaps some captive enemy turned 
 the spit the good cheer, and heat and smoke and 
 dirt. . . ." 
 
 "Yes, I have often thought of it," he said, "and 
 of how different it all was, and yet how like to what 
 goes on nowadays " 
 
 She broke in: "Yes! Yes! That is it! They 
 were so restricted according to our thinking I mean 
 the women, of course and yet they must have had 
 a good deal of fun that we miss nowadays. If they 
 had no theatres, on the other hand, few weeks 
 passed without a company of strolling players, who 
 gave a performance for their sole benefit! If there 
 were no shops to which they could go, at least they 
 had the amusement of having the shops come to 
 them and every pedlar brought news of what was 
 happening miles and miles away ! If the society 
 was limited, at least you were never without it 
 every castle had its own retinue, every lady her 
 maids of honour, every lord his knights. . . . 
 Sometimes I think the feudal system came near to 
 being the best form of government we have hit upon 
 hitherto." 
 
 "But it would be of no use to try and restore it 
 now it's gone, never to return," said he slowly 
 and as though he were considering the possibility. 
 
 "Ah, no use to 'revive old customs thoroughly 
 worn out, the souls of them fumed forth, the hearts 
 of them torn out!' ' 
 
 "If one could buy an island," mused he. "An 
 island about the size of Corsica and start there
 
 Changing Partners 125 
 
 but I expect you are right it would be only acting 
 self-conscious mimicry like the modern efforts 
 after simplicity and sandals loathsome posing." 
 
 "Have you wanted the island?" she asked medi- 
 tatively. 
 
 "Always. Some place where there was no hired 
 army, but where every citizen must bear arms to 
 defend his home if necessary. Oh, I'm a deplorable 
 ass ! I believe the division of labour is the root of 
 all evil. I think it would be a better world if every 
 man could lay bricks and carve wood and hunt game 
 and teach Latin and make laws. . . ." 
 
 ". . . And every woman could bake bread and 
 spin wool and embroider, and sing and play and 
 dance. . . . Oh reactionary!" 
 
 They laughed into each other's eyes. 
 
 "No lady secretaries," she suggested, "unless 
 some maid attired herself as a youth and boldly 
 went forth to seek her fortune I" 
 
 "Thanks," he replied dryly, "that decides it. No 
 world for me in which there are no lady secre- 
 taries." 
 
 "Do you know we are talking regrettable non- 
 sense," said Charis hastily, "and time is slipping by, 
 and I forgot that I decoyed you here to try and get 
 something out of you to ask you to contrive some- 
 thing for me " 
 
 "Right-o! What is it?" he asked tranquilly, ac- 
 cepting the change of subject. 
 
 "Mr. Strachan wants a change of lady in his car," 
 said she. "I fancy he thinks Mrs. Varick would like
 
 126 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 to be invited to sit by him for the afternoon. That 
 place has belonged to Miss Cranstoun-Brown ever 
 since we started, and I want you to devise some way 
 of meeting his wishes without hurting her feelings. 
 Could you persuade Major Doran to invite her to 
 come with him? She would like that, but I don't 
 feel that I dare ask him. Yet it has been left to 
 me I feel I ought to do it if I can." 
 
 "It needs doing," said Gilbert bluntly. "Phyllis 
 is making herself and Strachan ridiculous. If it 
 isn't stopped she will begin to believe the car be- 
 longs to her. I'll see to it." 
 
 "Without hurting her feelings?" earnestly put 
 in Charis. "I am sure she has no idea that she is 
 monopolising her host unduly but Mr. Strachan 
 realises he has a duty to the rest of the party." 
 
 "Leave it to me," was the reply, hardly uttered 
 before the careful Phyllis, who had been strictly en- 
 joined by her mamma never to allow flirtation be- 
 tween Gilbert and Miss Garth, ran into the chapel, 
 and had to be forcibly caught and held by her 
 brother to prevent the ruin of a photo. 
 
 "What a blundering donkey you are, Phyl!" was 
 his fraternal amenity, to which she replied : 
 
 "Blundering donkey yourself! What are you 
 about here in this dark hole ? The others are leav- 
 ing they couldn't think what had become of you." 
 
 "Keep to facts. Mrs. Varick knew I was here. 
 I am doing this job for her." 
 
 "Well, but I mean Miss Garth. Does she know 
 she is keeping Mr. Strachan waiting?"
 
 Changing Partners 127 
 
 The girl's manner was full of insolence, and the 
 fact that Charis was quite unmoved, either by the 
 information or the way in which it was conveyed, 
 annoyed her to the point of indiscretion. 
 
 "If you had heard what Mr. Strachan said just 
 now about your being out of the way when you were 
 wanted," said she, "you might hurry a little. You've 
 got a delightful post, Miss Garth don't you want 
 to keep it?" 
 
 Charis, who had stooped to tie a shoelace, and 
 also partly to hide a smile, raised her face, devoid 
 of expression, and stared steadily at Phyllis's brick- 
 red countenance. "I beg your pardon?" said she, 
 as though she had not heard. 
 
 Meeting her calm eyes, Phyllis simply dared not 
 repeat her impertinence. She grew still more scarlet 
 and tossed her head. 
 
 "Gilbert," said she, "you must come at once it 
 is so ill-bred to make people wait for you." 
 
 "Ah, you're an authority on breeding, aren't 
 you?" was his ironic answer as he placed the cap 
 upon the camera and put his watch back in his 
 pocket. 
 
 Phyllis snorted and flounced away, enraged. 
 Charis, watching her, felt sure that the girl had 
 something on her mind. 
 
 When the camera was packed up Gilbert and she 
 went their unhurried way towards the gate, reach- 
 ing it before the rest of the party who were leisurely 
 making the tour of the walls. Charis saw Gilbert 
 go up to Major Doran and talk to him for a minute
 
 128 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 or two. Then she saw the Major approach Phyllis 
 and evidently press her to come and sit by him in 
 his car. He drove himself, Strachan's man having 
 undertaken the cleaning of both cars, and the Major 
 taking the chance to give his own chauffeur a holi- 
 day. 
 
 In the other car, by universal insistence, Strachan 
 sat in the best place in the tonneau facing forwards. 
 Hitherto Phyllis had usurped the place beside him 
 as if it were her right. She was evidently flattered, 
 however, at Doran's invitation, and presently ran 
 up to her cousin and cried that she was torn two 
 ways Major Doran said they were going up to 
 Reeth, the loveliest drive in England, and he wanted 
 to hear what she said at first sight of it. Would 
 Cousin George forgive her desertion? 
 
 Cousin George cheerfully said that he thought 
 it was far better to change partners than always 
 to be seated the same way. "I have no right to 
 monopolise you, my dear," said he kindly; "the 
 young men should have a chance." 
 
 Phyllis turned up her eyes languishingly to him. 
 "No young man could have a real chance where you 
 are concerned," said she fatuously and not very felic- 
 itously. Strachan laughed outright, with his merry 
 eyes fixed upon his secretary. 
 
 "My dear," said he as soon as Phyllis had moved 
 away, "I am obliged to you. I will ask Mrs. Varick 
 to sit in Phyllis's place and Colonel Morrison wants 
 to sit with us and be amused. Vee has begged to 
 sit by Horn, as he is teaching her to drire. But
 
 Changing Partners 129 
 
 that will leave you and Gil to travel together behind 
 the Major and Phyllis." 
 
 "I shan't mind that," said Charis quickly; and 
 afterwards wondered at herself that this was so.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 PHYLLIS AND FINANCE 
 
 NEXT morning, during the half-hour set apart 
 each day for Mr. Strachan to go through his 
 letters with his secretary, he had occasion to send 
 Miss Garth down to the sitting-room of the hotel, 
 to search for a Canadian newspaper which he had 
 mislaid. He was a little worried that morning it 
 seemed to him, judging from his correspondence, 
 that things were not going as smoothly in Ontario 
 as he had hoped might be the case in his absence. 
 
 His perturbation gave Charis an idea. She 
 thought she saw her way to make a suggestion which 
 would be advantageous at the same time to herself, 
 to Gilbert Brown, and to Strachan. She knew that 
 the sooner Gilbert was taken completely out of her 
 way, the better for him. It would be much more 
 comfortable for everybody if she could prevent 
 things from coming to a point if she could head 
 off her big, blundering suitor without exposing him 
 to the mortification of a refusal. She thought highly 
 of the young man's common sense, and also of his 
 honesty, and was confident that he could be of great 
 use to his cousin if Strachan could be brought to 
 see it. 
 
 Her mind was deeply occupied with this notion 
 130
 
 Phyllis and Finance 131 
 
 as she swiftly and silently entered the room. At 
 that time of day the place was fairly certain to be 
 empty; and she started, when, standing before the 
 table which held the papers, she heard from behind 
 her the sound of a smothered but unmistakable sob. 
 
 Facing round, she saw Phyllis seated in a corner, 
 behind a curtain, at a small writing-table. She was 
 crouched together with her handkerchief to her 
 eyes; and as she approached, Charis saw that a sheet 
 of the hotel paper lay before her, and a letter which 
 seemed to be the one her mother had sent on to 
 her the previous day. 
 
 Charis was confirmed in her notion that some- 
 thing was wrong where this girl was concerned. All 
 the previous day she had been in a state of unnat- 
 ural, almost hectic excitement. During the entire 
 forenoon, she had flung herself openly and des- 
 perately at Strachan's head; and in the afternoon 
 she had done the same to Major Doran. Poor 
 Phyllis! She belonged to the class of girl more 
 numerous than is realised to whom any man who 
 proposes is the right man. She was not entirely 
 false, except in so far that she was self-deceived. 
 The mere fact of a man's asking her to marry him 
 would persuade her that she adored him would, 
 in fact, probably be sufficient to make her adore him 
 in a sort of rapture of gratitude for the time being. 
 She had no deep feeling, but she imagined herself 
 to be an extremely romantic, emotional being. Her 
 mistakes were laughable, but they were also pitiable, 
 and in Charis compassion came uppermost, as she
 
 132 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 crossed the room and approached the forlorn figure. 
 
 "Miss Cranstoun-Brown, I'm afraid you are not 
 well?" 
 
 Phyllis started so violently as to make it apparent 
 that her abandonment of misery, in a public sitting- 
 room, was genuine and not calculated. She must 
 then be very hard hit. 
 
 "Couldn't I get you anything?" suggested Charis 
 diffidently. 
 
 "Certainly not. Go away," stammered the girl 
 resentfully; but the truculence of the rejoinder was 
 washed out by a rush of blinding tears and some 
 angry sobbing. "My own sister won't help me, so 
 is it likely that you could?" she blurted out dolor- 
 ously. 
 
 "Then you are in trouble? Isn't there something 
 anything one could do?" 
 
 "Not you, is it likely? If I don't know where 
 to turn for money, you don't suppose I should come 
 to you for it," was the hardly audible, though en- 
 venomed answer. 
 
 "Are you are you in debt?" hazarded Charis, 
 expecting to be told to leave the room at once. But 
 the young woman, who, according to her mother, 
 would make a perfect wife, was in so abject a posi- 
 tion that she was ready to catch at any straw, even 
 the sympathy of the girl she would like to trample 
 upon. 
 
 "You can't understand, of course," she muttered, 
 between tears, "what a girl in my position has to 
 meet in the way of expenses; and and I've never
 
 Phyllis and Finance 133 
 
 had a proper dress allowance in my life! I live in 
 a good house, I have plenty of food, but in reality 
 I'm a genteel pauper! I can't go and buy a pair of 
 shoes without dunning either my father or my 
 mother for a pound to pay for them. Well ! You 
 can guess what happens. Of course I go on tick. 
 It it was just my bad luck that I had run up a 
 long score at one of the shops these beasts, Hardy 
 and Trip in Streatwood High Street, just at the 
 time that Cousin George suggested this tour. Then 
 there were all kinds of things I had to have long 
 coat, motor-veils, hats, gloves, smart shoes! One 
 can't go about a fright, and Ma gave me about 
 enough to buy one cheap frock! She thinks girls 
 should go in for simple white muslin ! Ugh ! You 
 know what a price things are, since the war. I only 
 ordered what I simply.had to have; and now, though 
 the whole bill isn't much over twenty pounds, they 
 threaten to apply to Mother unless I pay at 
 once. . . ." 
 
 "Well but wouldn't that be the best way?" 
 
 "You don't know what Ma is! Nobody ex- 
 cept those who have to live with her know what Ma 
 is! I tell you I often think I'd marry a road- 
 sweeper, just to get away from her tyranny and her 
 tongue ! If if she knew I'd run up a bill like this, 
 I don't know what she'd do!" 
 
 "But but what made you how did you ever 
 think you were going to pay it?" demanded Charis 
 curiously. 
 
 "Why, of course I should have thought you
 
 134 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 could see I should have thought everybody would 
 see, that it's only a question of time Cousin 
 George." 
 
 "You think you could ask him to pay your 
 debts?" 
 
 "Of course I could, if if Oh, you needn't 
 
 look so bewildered! You must have seen it from 
 the first from the way he looked at me when he 
 walked into our drawing-room. I had on a really 
 pretty frock, and shoes and stockings to match 
 and I had had my hair marcel-waved and shampooed 
 that blued all the money Ma doled out for silk 
 stockings ! But you see it answered men like some- 
 thing showy" Phyllis suddenly came to a choking 
 pause in this remarkable piece of self-revelation. 
 "Ugh!" cried she furiously, "if it hadn't been for 
 you, I should be engaged to him by now!" 
 
 Remembering her own complicity in the shifting 
 of Phyllis's place in the car the previous day Charis 
 coloured hotly. "Miss Cranstoun-Brown, what can 
 you mean?" 
 
 The tone was so studiously gentle and gravely 
 reproachful that, for a wonder, Phyllis, vain and 
 stupid though she was, caught a part of its signifi- 
 cance. "Oh," she groaned, "I hardly know what 
 I'm saying. All I know is that I daren't go to Gil, 
 and that Vee won't help with a penny . . . and if 
 I can't send this money, I'm in a worse hole than 
 ever I was in my life ! But why on earth am I tell- 
 ing you all this? Of course, you'd be delighted if 
 Ma was to write and order me straight home 1"
 
 Phyllis and Finance 135 
 
 "I wonder why you think so ? Have I ever made 
 myself objectionable to you?" asked Charis quietly. 
 "I have often wondered why you should feel hostile 
 to me. I know you despise me for having to earn 
 my living but at least that keeps me from such diffi- 
 culties as yours of this moment. However, I am 
 very sorry for your trouble, and I will help you if 
 you allow me. Mr. Strachan has lately paid my 
 salary, and I can lend you the money to pay this bill 
 I will lend it on certain conditions." 
 
 "Conditions?" Between her consuming anxiety 
 for relief and her humiliation that it should come 
 from such a quarter, the sufferer almost choked. 
 
 "You must understand that it is a loan, and that 
 it must be repaid the first moment you are able. I 
 mean, when you get some money, you must pay me 
 back before contracting any fresh debts. Do you 
 agree to that?" 
 
 The tears began to flow afresh. "I'm not likely 
 to get any more money for ever so long un- 
 less " 
 
 "Well, I'll risk that. I am going to trust you." 
 
 The purplish, mottled face was lifted to see if 
 this incredible offer were genuine. "You'll lend me 
 twenty-three pounds?" 
 
 "Yes. I happen to have it on me. Not a very 
 usual occurrence, as you may guess." 
 
 Charis took out her purse, extracted thence four 
 five-pound notes, and three one-pound treasury 
 notes, and pushed them across the table. There was 
 a momentary hesitation, but it was soon over. With
 
 136 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 a long breath of almost suffocating gratitude the 
 notes were accepted, amid muttered thanks, and 
 something which almost sounded like an apology. 
 
 Charis caught "been mistaken in you shall al- 
 ways look upon you as a friend perhaps I shall pay 
 this back sooner than you think. . . ." 
 
 She cut short the confused utterance. "I must 
 run, or I shall have Mr. Strachan asking where I 
 have been wasting my time." 
 
 Phyllis's face was suddenly drained of all colour. 
 "Oh ! You wouldn't tell him ?" 
 
 Charis met her eyes. "No, I will not tell him 
 so long as you observe my conditions ; and remember 
 that you are in honour pledged to repay me as soon 
 as you can." 
 
 Waiting for no more gratitude, she ran swiftly 
 from the room. Phyllis sat staring at the wad of 
 notes before her, and her face began to regain some 
 of its wonted assurance. 
 
 She ran her eyes over the bill. Some of the items 
 were eighteen months old. Her expression became 
 absorbed eager. She lifted her eyes to make sure 
 that Miss Garth had gone right out of the room, 
 and that she was alone. Then she took up her pen 
 and began to write. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, I am now enclosing fifteen pounds 
 on account of your bill, trusting that you will wait a 
 few weeks for the balance. In that time I shall be 
 back in town, and I expect that I shall be giving a 
 very large order.
 
 Phyllis and Finance 137 
 
 "In acknowledging receipt of enclosed money 
 (15) please address not to Redmays, but to Frat- 
 ton Beck Hotel, Estondale." 
 
 Charis brought the required paper to Strachan, 
 and the remainder of their morning's work was 
 quickly settled. 
 
 "And now," said she, "if you will give me ten 
 minutes, I have somewhat to say unto thee, O Arbiter 
 of Destiny." 
 
 "Arbiter of Destiny ! I like that title better than 
 Good Samaritan. It tickles me, some. Say on, 
 young woman." 
 
 "I want you to do two things for me." 
 "I think it's unlikely I shall refuse." 
 "Ah, wait till you hear the second. The first I 
 am fairly sure you will like to do. I have a particu- 
 lar reason for suggesting it. I wonder if you know 
 that your two young cousins, the Brown girls, are 
 in a state of chronic hard-upness? In England, peo- 
 ple don't consider their daughters' purses even 
 now, after the war and everything, the English mid- 
 dle-class girl at home has no money unless she earns 
 it. Vee does earn some, but not much. It may 
 sound to you odd that on a trip like this, where you 
 pay for all, these girls should be short of cash; but 
 they are ; and you understand going from one town 
 to another they would like to buy things to take 
 home, and so on. ... So, after this lengthy pre- 
 amble, what I want you to do is to give each of them
 
 138 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 fifty pounds, and say it is for them to spend as they 
 like best not to save up and invest." 
 
 "It's an excellent idea, and shall be carried out, 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 "Don't do it to-day, nor to-morrow. In a few 
 days we visit Carlisle, don't we? That will be an 
 excuse the shops there I don't want them to 
 think that I put you up to it. And oh, yes; one 
 other thing, this important give it to them both 
 at the same time have them both in the room to- 
 gether. Don't let either think she is preferred to 
 the other." 
 
 He smiled with comprehension. "Agreed again. 
 And now?" 
 
 "Now I come to the important thing. I want 
 you to offer to take Gilbert Brown into your busi- 
 ness in Ontario, and to dispatch him off there at 
 once." 
 
 He showed his surprise at this by a long silence 
 and a searching look. "So-o-o! That is a tall 
 order. Do you want to be rid of the young man, 
 at my expense?" 
 
 She would have liked to conceal her deep blush, 
 but found it impossible. "I am thinking of both 
 you and him," she maintained. "You want me to 
 give you the result of my observations. One of the 
 things I have found out is, as I told you the other 
 day, that that young man is spoiling for an object 
 in life. Give him some real important work, I don't 
 mind guaranteeing that he will do it well. I ordered 
 you to have a heart-to-heart talk with him, and you
 
 Phyllis and Finance 139 
 
 haven't done as I told you, which is very refractory 
 of you. Do it now. Talk to him without delay. I 
 believe with all my heart that he is the man you 
 want, and that you are the man he wants." 
 
 "Alas, my dear, I fear greatly that you are the 
 woman he wants, and, of course, I know he is not 
 the man you want." 
 
 Charis faced him with eyes full of regrets. "I I 
 fear you may be right. I want you to know that I 
 couldn't help it. I haven't consciously done any- 
 thing . . . but as you say, of course, he is not the 
 man I want . . . and it would be better for him to 
 go right away, to fresh surroundings and fresh in- 
 terests. Oh, dear, this sounds dreadful. Indeed, 
 I am not asking you to employ him just because I 
 want to be rid of him. Oh, do believe it isn't that. 
 I hoped you had not seen . . . but you are so 
 abominably penetrating. Ah, don't look at me like 
 that!" 
 
 "Abominably penetrating, am I?" he echoed with 
 a queer intonation. "Well, I believe I am more or 
 less clear-sighted where I love." 
 
 She gave him what he inly termed her golden 
 smile. "I never met a man like you," she murmured 
 gratefully. "I don't believe you could ever possibly 
 misunderstand." 
 
 "Sometimes I wish I could," said George Strachan 
 enigmatically.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A NEAR SHAVE 
 
 IT had been decided that, in order to fill in the 
 time which must elapse before they could be re- 
 ceived at the Fratton Beck Hotel, the party should 
 make a few days' tour in Lakeland. Strachan had 
 a confidential talk with his secretary and succeeded 
 in ascertaining exactly which bit of country she would 
 wish to avoid, and having arranged his itinerary 
 accordingly, they finally left Barnard Castle one 
 sunshiny morning and passed over Stainmore, by 
 way of Brough and Appleby, to Pooley Bridge and 
 thence along the Helvellyn side of Ullswater to 
 Patterdale. Here they lunched and set out, about 
 three o'clock in the afternoon, to cross the Kirk- 
 stone Pass to Ambleside. 
 
 Charis had not found leisure for a word with 
 Gilbert Brown that day, but she knew he had had 
 a long talk with his cousin the previous night. She 
 was anxious to know if anything had been arranged, 
 and she felt he was equally anxious to tell her some- 
 thing. All the morning they had travelled in sepa- 
 rate cars, he being with Mrs. Varick, while Miss 
 Garth most unwillingly played number three with 
 Strachan and Phyllis. She felt that an afternoon 
 of the same ordeal would be unbearable, and was 
 
 140
 
 A Near Shave 141 
 
 grateful indeed to Major Doran when he once more 
 came to the rescue and claimed Miss Cranstoun- 
 Brown as his companion over the pass. 
 
 Gilbert seized the chance thus offered. "I want 
 to talk to you," said he under his breath to Charis. 
 "It's really important. Come with me again in 
 Doran's car." 
 
 She hesitated. "Oh, but you would like to have 
 Mrs. Varick." 
 
 He smiled sarcastically. "Not she ! Look at her, 
 making tracks for the magnet. If you remember, I 
 prophesied that we other men should have a thin 
 time if Strachan were here." 
 
 "It doesn't seem quite fair that he should be so 
 fascinating as well as so rich, does it?" she admitted. 
 "He is the most compelling person I know. He 
 just says Do, and you do it. I wish he could sud- 
 denly lose all his fortune just to see if he would 
 be as magnetic without it." 
 
 "Don't you go wishing such a thing as that or 
 you put a spoke in my wheel altogether." 
 
 "Indeed? How so?" 
 
 "That's just what I want to explain if you will 
 condescend to endure my company for an hour or 
 so this afternoon." 
 
 "What of Colonel Morrison?" 
 
 "He always follows Mrs. Varick about I'm of 
 the opinion that Cousin George would as soon be 
 without him. But, however, you see " 
 
 Charis glanced towards the car and saw that both 
 Vee and Colonel Morrison were taking their places,
 
 142 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 facing the others, in the capacious and comfortable 
 interior of Strachan's car. They were talking 
 volubly and evidently quite content to be together; 
 so there seemed really no alternative for her unless 
 she left Gilbert to sit alone and installed herself 
 beside Horn. 
 
 She gave in, therefore, divided between the sense 
 of insecurity she always felt in Gilbert's company 
 and her desire to hear what had passed between him 
 and his cousin. 
 
 It was a day to uplift the very heart in gladness 
 at the surrounding beauty. The tree-covered slopes 
 which dip so sharply to the lake were in the fresh- 
 ness of June verdure; and thus early in the season 
 the terrible chars-a-bancs, which ply in the narrow, 
 winding road and make August travel a terror, were 
 not yet in full blast. 
 
 Gilbert began abruptly, as they slipped smoothly 
 along the curve which heads Ullswater and turns up 
 to Brothers Water. "Here is my news. Cousin 
 George has asked me if I will go out to Canada 
 for him, and I have told him that I will." 
 
 She turned to him a face of such radiant delight 
 as he, apparently, had not anticipated. "Oh, 
 good!" cried she fervently. "Good indeed!" 
 
 Gilbert swallowed hard and tried again. "He 
 wants me to go at once, directly, even before the 
 end of this tour he would like me to be off as soon 
 as we obtain my father's sanction." 
 
 He was gazing on her so appealingly that she felt 
 embarrassed. Evidently he was taken aback at her
 
 A Near Shave 143 
 
 unconcealed pleasure in his imminent departure. She 
 plunged on. "Indeed I am glad glad for you both. 
 I know Mr. Strachan has been uneasy, and your 
 going will set his mind at rest. Must you wait, even 
 for Mr. Brown's sanction?" 
 
 "As to my father," he said slowly, "I think I told 
 you I'm in his office at present. I don't for a mo- 
 ment suppose he will stand in my way, but we must 
 just let him know before leaving him in the lurch." 
 
 "Of course, how stupid of me. Well, I do con- 
 gratulate you. This is what you hoped would hap- 
 pen, isn't it? what / hoped would happen " 
 
 "That I should go away?" He was trying hard 
 to make his voice sound normal. 
 
 "Well, you could hardly enter the business at 
 Ontario without going away, could you? I thought 
 it was your great ambition." 
 
 "No rose without a thorn. You'll be thinking me 
 ungrateful, but I can't help reflecting that Canada 
 is a long way off." 
 
 "It is, of course. But, as you say, there must 
 always be some drawback to everything." 
 
 "And, after all, what does it matter?" he mur- 
 mured bitterly. "I am the kind of person who never 
 will be missed." 
 
 "I don't think you ought to say such a thing as 
 that ! Your mother, of course " 
 
 "Oh, of course !" It was almost a sneer. 
 
 "Well," she went on after pausing. "I own to 
 feeling a bit disappointed. You spoke to me % so 
 strongly of your dissatisfaction with things as they
 
 144 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 were, I was under the impression that this was just 
 the start you required." 
 
 "Cymon, in fact, goes away to his sheepfolds and 
 the king's daughter back to her father's court." 
 
 It seemed to Charis that this was the kind of re- 
 mark to which no reply was possible. She made a 
 desperate effort to change the conversation. 
 
 "In our excitement over your promotion we 
 mustn't forget to admire the scenery. Oh, do look! 
 There goes the road right over our heads! How 
 fast the cars rush down! Do you see that one? 
 Coming down now towards us ? It is lurching very 
 oddly surely it's travelling too fast for safety! 
 Oh, do you think the driver has lost control?" 
 
 As she spoke the car which had been visible at 
 its height above them on the twisting road rounded 
 a corner in its descent and plunged out of sight. 
 Gilbert, springing forward, put his head round the 
 corner of the wind-screen, and shouted to Doran : 
 
 "Look out! Car just round the bend coming 
 down much too fast." 
 
 The Major at once slowed down, steering in close 
 against the side of the road, and at the same instant 
 the disabled car came lurching round the bend above 
 them, with the passengers huddled together, evi- 
 dently sensible of their danger, and the driver white 
 as ashes, his face set grim and tense. 
 
 In the moment which elapsed between its coming 
 into sight and the inevitable collision there was no 
 time to jump, neither was jumping possible, since
 
 A Near Shave 145 
 
 Doran's car was pushed in close against the moun- 
 tain side. 
 
 Charis felt herself snatched up bodily, so that 
 her feet might not be pinned between the seats, and 
 knew that Gilbert's sturdy frame and muscular arms 
 were interposed between herself and the shock of the 
 coming crash. 
 
 The jarring thud of impact was intermingled with 
 the shrill yelps and squeals of feminine tourists, and 
 the running tinkle of shattered glass. Something 
 heavy fell into the tonneau, striking Gilbert on the 
 back; but nothing touched Charis except his arms. 
 The car remained upright, the collision driving its 
 back wheels into the hillside bank, but not overturn- 
 ing it. All the air seemed full of sound and strug- 
 gling; and for a few bewildering seconds, Miss 
 Garth's heart stood still. 
 
 She then heard Gilbert's voice, close to her ear. 
 
 "Are you all right?" it asked in a forced, unnat- 
 ural way. 
 
 "Yes perfectly please . . . please let me 
 go " 
 
 "Of course. But I must move with care. There 
 is at least one body on top of me, if not more." 
 
 "O-oh!" 
 
 "Don't get rattled. I think and hope they fell 
 pretty soft." 
 
 His reluctant arms slowly withdrew their hold. 
 "Don't move till I tell you," said he, twisting him- 
 self sideways, so as not too violently to dislodge the 
 elderly female who was spread-eagled upon his back.
 
 146 The Judgment of Chans 
 
 As he carefully and with some pain disengaged him- 
 self, he emitted a curious sound; and Charis, breath- 
 ing hard and trembling murmured: "Oh, Mr. 
 Brown, are you laughing?" 
 
 "I'm most awfully sorry . . . but somehow it 
 does seem funny. I fancy the dear creature has 
 fainted from shock. Now if I hold her up, can you 
 creep from under? Mind the broken glass; they've 
 shattered our wind-screen." 
 
 Charis sidled sideways, and Gilbert, by an adroit 
 manoeuvre, deposited the limp lady beside her on 
 the seat of the car, and rose to his feet. 
 
 "Anybody hurt?" he called. 
 
 George Strachan, pale with apprehension, was 
 hurrying up the road from the point where his own 
 car had been stopped. He surveyed, with a horrified 
 air, the heap of people and vehicles blocking the 
 highway. 
 
 "Where's my little girl?" he demanded of Gil- 
 bert, in hoarse peremptory tones. 
 
 Gilbert without a word turned to Charis, stooped, 
 lifted her bodily, and handed her out over the back 
 of the car to his cousin, who received her with a 
 choked "Thank God!" 
 
 "Why, dear man, I'm as right as rain," cried 
 Charis, struggling to her feet and taking Strachan's 
 hands in hers. "Cheer up ! The folks in the other 
 car have got the worst of it." 
 
 "All that broken glass," he muttered, his colour 
 beginning very gradually to return. "Child, if any- 
 thing had happened to you, I would have decided
 
 A Near Shave 147 
 
 once for all that I'm a Jonah, and that, as soon as 
 anything becomes dear to me, that something is 
 doomed." 
 
 "Oh, rubbish," she answered playfully, patting 
 his hand to reassure him. "You are never going to 
 have those morbid fancies any more you know you 
 promised me!" 
 
 She was smiling up into his face, thinking only of 
 his anxiety, desirous only to calm it. But to him, 
 the revulsion of relief craved expression, and he bent 
 down and kissed her forehead, repeating softly his 
 "Thank God! Thank God!" 
 
 "How lovely of you to care so much," said the 
 girl impulsively; and a thrill of joy passed through 
 her as she felt the vibration of the arm he passed 
 about her shoulders. 
 
 "If you have, or can beg, borrow or steal any 
 brandy, Cousin George" Gilbert spoke from within 
 the car, where he was trying to restore the elderly 
 female to consciousness. 
 
 Even as he spoke, Doran turned from his seat, 
 where he had been bending over Phyllis, and spoke 
 through the ruins of the wind-screen. "Yes, for 
 pity's sake get some brandy," said he; "send your 
 car down to the Brothers Water Inn, and ask them 
 for some rags and so on. If all the men get to- 
 gether, I think they can pull this car off us. There's 
 a child down there among the wheels." 
 
 Strachan, smitten with the thought of his own 
 selfishness, became at once the man of resource and 
 action. He hurried off to execute Doran's requests.
 
 148 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Neither of the cars had been overturned. The 
 one which had caused the accident was a privately 
 owned char-a-banc, not very large as such vehicles 
 go, but holding a dozen passengers. It was care- 
 fully driven, and, had the road been a little wider, 
 the catastrophe might have been averted. The 
 trouble was that, by one of those detestable coinci- 
 dences which occur perhaps once in a lifetime, two 
 of the tyres had punctured at the same time, so that 
 it was impossible to control the steering. The driver 
 had done all he could by shutting off the engine; 
 but the weight of the car and the terrible steepness 
 of the hill made disaster inevitable. 
 
 The shock had sent three of the passengers flying 
 over the front; the lady who had landed upon Gil- 
 bert, the child who had fallen into the road, and an 
 elderly gentleman, who was seriously hurt. The 
 remainder retained their places, and a youngish lady, 
 sitting on the side nearest Major Doran's car, was 
 watching with the keenest attention Strachan's 
 greeting of Charis, and his thankfulness for her 
 safety. 
 
 "Why, surely, don't I know that girl?" said she 
 reflectively to her mother, who sat beside her. 
 "Surely that's Lord Ringland's daughter, Charis 
 Osbourne, isn't it?" 
 
 Her mother merely moaned for answer; and, 
 after trying eau-de-Cologne in vain, the daughter 
 rose, succeeded in making her way out of the vehicle 
 on the other side, and went on a pilgrimage for 
 brandy.
 
 A Near Shave 149 
 
 By this time a crowd was collecting. Messengers 
 had been sent up and down the pass to warn on-com- 
 ing traffic; and almost all the travellers in the ap- 
 proaching carriages were alighting and hurrying to 
 the scene of the accident. 
 
 With the help of so many volunteers, the inter- 
 locked cars were drawn clear of one another. 
 Major Doran's had suffered considerably. The 
 wind-screen was a wreck, the metal part of the bon- 
 net crushed and battered, and the off front wheel 
 was badly bent. There was, however, no injury to 
 the engine, and an inquiry was instituted with a view 
 to seeing whether she could be driven back as far as 
 Patterdale. 
 
 All the men were absorbed in these matters, and 
 the ladies forgathered by the roadside, clean hand- 
 kerchiefs and restoratives being eagerly offered. 
 Phyllis had been cut on the arm by a big splinter of 
 glass, having wisely raised both arms to screen her 
 face. It was a long cut, which bled a good deal, 
 and her party impatiently awaited the return of their 
 other car from the Brothers Water Inn which was 
 but a very little way down in order to have her 
 driven as fast as possible to a doctor. 
 
 Poor Phyllis! She was divided in her mind 
 between self-pity and exultation in the injury which 
 was making her the centre of attraction. The 
 copious tears she was shedding were the result not 
 of the pain she was suffering, but of the fact that 
 Strachan was at the moment too much absorbed in 
 the accident and its results to pay any attention to
 
 150 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 her. Surely no results could be so serious to him as 
 her own cuts and bruises ! There was that demure 
 Miss Garth with literally not a scratch ! It was very 
 unfair! Why had she been silly enough to give up 
 her own safe seat beside dear Cousin George for the 
 glittering peril of the other car? 
 
 A youngish woman in a long motoring-coat 
 strolled slowly past the group. She stopped, looked 
 searchingly at Miss Garth, and stood there for a 
 long moment, hesitating. At last she made up her 
 mind and spoke. 
 
 "Surely I am not mistaken. Isn't that Miss Os- 
 bourne?" 
 
 They all looked up, but nobody answered. "I 
 mean you," said she uncertainly, indicating Charis. 
 "I am young Mrs. Hunter, the doctor's wife at 
 Ringland." 
 
 "You are making a mistake. My name is Garth," 
 said Charis quietly. 
 
 "I'm sure I beg your pardon. I don't know Miss 
 Osbourne very well, but the likeness is remarkable," 
 said young Mrs. Hunter, turning away apologetic- 
 ally. 
 
 Sheila Varick was conscious of a small shock. 
 She remembered Colonel Morrison and the initial 
 O upon a handkerchief belonging to Miss Garth. 
 She looked at Charis's composed face, as she bowed 
 a gracious acceptance of the other lady's apology. 
 If she really were playing a part, she was a good 
 actress! What, exactly, had Morrison said? That
 
 A Near Shave 151 
 
 the girl was not concealing anything discreditable 
 "rather the reverse." 
 
 Sheila was not a mischief-maker, but she thought 
 she would tell the Colonel, when she had him to 
 herself, of this curious recognition.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 GILBERT COMMITS HIMSELF 
 
 IN the end it was found possible to coax the dam- 
 aged car back as far as the Ullswater Hotel. 
 There it was placed on the pit and overhauled, the 
 verdict being that it would take a week to repair. 
 
 Fortunately there was room in the hotel for the 
 whole party; and as Phyllis seemed to have been 
 severely shaken, it was decided that they should 
 remain where they were and make short excursions 
 each day, while she recuperated. 
 
 Strachan, when he realised that she was really 
 hurt and that he had not so much as wondered 
 whether this was so or not, was filled with remorse, 
 and bestowed upon her the tenderest care. This was 
 quite to her taste ; though, when he suggested a wire 
 to her mother to come with all speed, she hastily 
 negatived the proposal. Mamma was a bad trav- 
 eller, and if Cousin George telegraphed, she would 
 think matters were serious. A cut was really 
 nothing at all as soon as the doctor had sewn it 
 up she would be all right. She was the heroine of 
 the occasion, the centre of the picture; for the con- 
 cern of Strachan was reinforced by that of Major 
 Doran, who, though not in the least responsible for 
 the accident, felt vaguely that he ought not to have 
 
 152
 
 Gilbert Commits Himself 153 
 
 allowed any lady under his care to sustain injury. 
 Soothed and flattered beyond measure, the invalid 
 went to bed reluctantly, quitting with regret the cir- 
 cle of commiserating faces, but consoled by the ar- 
 rival of a smart and sympathetic doctor from Kes- 
 wick, summoned by telephone to her assistance. 
 
 Charis was herself feeling more upset than she 
 could at all account for. Being rather indignantly 
 determined not to yield to such nonsensical nervous 
 excitement, she found Strachan's attache-case, and 
 went to calm herself down with an hour's work in 
 the writing-room, which was fortunately deserted. 
 
 Ignoring the headache which would have made 
 a couple of hours upon her bed a more sensible 
 course, she set herself doggedly to the transcription 
 of various letters, advising heads of departments 
 that Mr. Strachan contemplated sending out his 
 cousin forthwith to represent him. 
 
 By degrees her pen moved slowly and more slow. 
 At last she laid it down. Her mind would hold only 
 the annoying memory of that supreme moment when 
 she was swept up into Gilbert Brown's capacious 
 hold. 
 
 Gilbert Brown! For pity's sake ! Gilbert Brown 
 and Charis Osbourne? . . . 
 
 She knew that she was turning scarlet; and she 
 felt hot all over at the thought of her father being 
 introduced to Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown. These are 
 days of levelling, but her imagination refused to 
 reach the point of picturing such a situation. 
 
 If only Gil's departure could be hurried ! If only
 
 154 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Strachan could succeed in packing him off before it 
 was too late. . . . 
 
 . . . And then the door opened quietly, and she 
 knew it was already too late. 
 
 Gilbert Cranstoun-Brown and the "Cranstoun" 
 seemed to give the final touch of absurdity stood 
 just within the door. The natural colour had not 
 yet returned to his rugged face, which still seemed 
 unusually pale. His eyes were burning in his head, 
 and Charis knew that the scene she would so gladly 
 have avoided had got to be ! 
 
 He came up to her with much the mien of a man 
 going to execution. "I want to speak to you. Will 
 you come out into the garden?" he said. 
 
 "I'm very busy," she mumbled, with an apolo- 
 getic glance at her work. "Won't this room do? 
 There is nobody here but ourselves." 
 
 "But we may be interrupted any moment " 
 
 "Oh, but I hoge you are not going to demand a 
 long interview, because I must finish these letters 
 . . . and I do fervently trust you are not going to 
 tell me that you mean to decline your cousin's offer? 
 You seemed dreadfully half-hearted about it this 
 morning." 
 
 He sat down at right angles to her, just round the 
 corner of the table, upon which he leaned his arms. 
 His face, in all its rough-cut strength, was very near 
 hers. 
 
 "You know what I must say. After this after- 
 noon after that moment I have simply got to 
 say it. And how can I express it? To say 'I love
 
 Gilbert Commits Himself 155 
 
 you' falls so ludicrously short of the truth." Chans 
 got to her feet, furious to find herself trembling. 
 
 "Please ! Please don't go on ! It's no use, I can't 
 listen. Won't you can't you leave it unsaid?" 
 
 He looked up at her. For a long moment they 
 faced each other, eye to eye. "Is that it?" he de- 
 manded slowly. "Am I so low as all that? So pre- 
 posterously out of the question that I may not even 
 tell about this this fire that you have kindled?" 
 
 Something in the force of his expression and of 
 his utterance made her feel mean and small; she felt 
 as if he were treading the asphodel meadows, and 
 she fussing over the counter of a shop. She an- 
 swered nervously and at random: 
 
 "Ah, don't speak so! If it were a question of 
 condescension welll The condescending is hardly 
 on your side, is it? Ask your mother and sisters 
 what they think. You know how grieved, how dis- 
 appointed they would be. ... But for other rea- 
 sons it's impossible, take my word for it. I can't 
 explain . . . but there are circumstances which 
 make me unable even to consider " 
 
 "Sit down!" broke in Gilbert, almost sharply. 
 Charis wavered. She dropped her lids, breathed 
 quickly, made a movement as though to collect her 
 papers and flee. Gilbert laid his large, square hand 
 upon her wrist. 
 
 She sat down, listening to his steady utterance; 
 for it seemed his nervousness was gone, swallowed 
 up by her scorn. "There isn't much need of words. 
 You understand me well enough. The thing which
 
 156 The Judgment of Chans 
 
 is surprising, and presumably to you vexatious, is 
 that I also understand you. We have tastes in com- 
 mon. We are companions. I know it. I have seen 
 you bored. But the point is, that / don't bore you. 
 Far above me though you are, I believe I could make 
 you happy." 
 
 She was quite confused. "What makes you talk 
 like this? It sounds ironical I Far above you to 
 your cousin's secretary 1" 
 
 "If I didn't realise how far above me you are, I 
 should be an oaf an imbecile. What do I care 
 for your circumstances? I don't want to know 
 whose daughter you are, when I know you, yourself ! 
 Can't you drop the conventions, and realise that I 
 am speaking to you now simply as between you and 
 me between man and woman ? Answer truly are 
 you certain that I mean nothing to you? That you 
 don't care a bit?" 
 
 Charis swallowed once or twice before she could 
 reply. Never before had she felt this curious, abject 
 sensation when rejecting a suitor. 
 
 "It isn't true," she murmured lamely, "that you 
 mean nothing to me. I like you. I I think highly 
 of your character. But that has really so little to do 
 with it, hasn't it?" Then, seeing the instinctive 
 movement with which' his hand went up to hide the 
 quivering of his mouth: "Oh, do believe," she 
 pleaded, "that I would have prevented this, if I 
 could! Think! Think! You are going off soon, 
 into fresh surroundings, a new life you are going 
 to make a fortune, to meet all sorts of charming
 
 Gilbert Commits Himself 157 
 
 girls ! Soon much sooner than you think, you will 
 have left this moment behind you! I don't mean 
 you will forget it, but it will cease to count indeed 
 it will." 
 
 He answered nothing. He propped up his obsti- 
 nate chin upon his fists and stared straight in front 
 of him. 
 
 "Mr. Brown, you don't reproach me? You don't 
 think I have behaved as though " 
 
 He shook his head. "No," he replied quietly, "I 
 knew I was riding for a fall. I hadn't a hope not 
 really. But somehow, when one is in the state in 
 which I am, one believes anything may happen. The 
 skies may fall, the stars may stoop ... I felt I had 
 to tell you and I am glad you know it. You had to 
 know it. It it wouldn't have made a ha'porth of 
 difference ifI had waited, would it?" he added wist- 
 fully. 
 
 She shook her head. "Oh, no." 
 
 "I suppose there's another man?" 
 
 She started. "I don't think so." 
 
 "That means, there is. Of course, then, the whole 
 thing's hopeless. I'll take myself out of your sight." 
 
 He rose heavily, but paused a moment behind her 
 chair. She felt it vibrate as he gripped its back. 
 "Remember that this shall make no difference to you, 
 whatever it does to me. I am still your friend I 
 don't resent your turning me down there was no 
 reason why*you should do anything else. For the 
 short remains of our time together, I guarantee I'll 
 behave myself."
 
 158 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Mr. Brown, you are fine! I'm grateful." 
 
 "And you won't avoid me ?" 
 
 "Indeed I won't ! It would be to punish myself, 
 because I like you very much . . . you make me 
 feel such a pig." 
 
 "Oh, rubbish! Well! There it is. But the 
 whole thing is wrong, somewhere. That I should 
 meet you that you should inspire me with what is 
 practically a new soul; and that I must go through 
 all my future life unfulfilled, because either you or I 
 have made a mistake. . . ." 
 
 "There are so many mistakes in this twisted uni- 
 
 verse." 
 
 He turned to her a face so changed that she 
 hardly knew it as it were purged by love and suf- 
 fering. "In some other world, is it possible you 
 might know you belong to me? I wonder." 
 
 Upon the words he walked out of the room; and 
 Charis found herself left sick and shivering, and 
 more miserable than she would have thought pos- 
 sible, upon no greater occasion than just refusing the 
 hand of a Cranstoun-Brown I
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 LORD CLEMENT BUTTS IN 
 
 THE doctor who had been called in to see Phyllis 
 prescribed bed for forty-eight hours, on the 
 ground that it is always difficult at first to gauge the 
 extent of a shock to the nervous system. 
 
 Indeed, the whole party in the damaged car had 
 been more or less shaken; and Gilbert more hurt 
 than he allowed anyone to suppose. Thus his gloom 
 and Miss Garth's depression seemed but natural to 
 the others, and excited no special comment. 
 
 Those who had occupied Strachan's car, however, 
 not having suffered in the same way, were ready to 
 accept as a merciful dispensation any accident which 
 detained them in the heart of such loveliness. 
 
 "The worst of motor trips is that you get through 
 your country too fast," observed Mrs. Varick. Here 
 they were at the very foot of Helvellyn, and in an 
 excellent position for attacking Blencathra also. 
 They determined to make the most of the oppor- 
 tunity; but the weather unfortunately was cloudy 
 and uncertain; so, for the first day, they had to con- 
 tent themselves with Aira Force. 
 
 The following morning, however the rain not 
 actually falling, and the landlord giving it as his 
 opinion that the mist might clear they decided to 
 
 159
 
 160 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 assault the mountain. Morrison was a climber, and 
 knew all the routes. 
 
 Charis had intended to remain at home with 
 Phyllis, who must not be left alone, nor feel herself 
 neglected. Thus she would be spared the long day 
 in Gilbert's, company; though his behaviour was so 
 circumspect and his self-control so complete that 
 only Mrs. Varick, who was observant, noticed any- 
 thing unusual. She remarked to Strachan that it 
 seemed curious for a big strong fellow like Gil to 
 be shocked by a motor accident. 
 
 Strachan suggested that the men who had passed 
 through the inferno of the war were many of them 
 left with a super-sensitised nervous system, which be- 
 came noticeable only in moments of stress; and she 
 accepted this as a quite reasonable explanation. The 
 Idea that Gil was in love with the secretary had not 
 presented itself to her. She knew her brother was, 
 and had little doubt that, if he made up his mind 
 to the sacrifice, Miss Garth would welcome so eligi- 
 ble an offer. 
 
 Fate took a hand in the arrangements for the 
 mountain climb, by bestowing upon Strachan such a 
 severe cold in the head that a day's exposure was 
 manifestly not prudent for him. Charis begged that 
 she might stay with him, and get through some ar- 
 rears of work; but he laughingly shook his head. 
 
 "I'm in no mood for work," he said, "and there's 
 nothing urgent. Since Gilbert is going out, various 
 things can wait. I will have a good rest, and play
 
 Lord Clement Butts In 161 
 
 Patience with poor Phyl when she comes down- 
 stairs." 
 
 Thus it was settled, and Phyllis, who had been 
 inclined to sulk at the idea of an expedition without 
 her, was, needless to say, entirely satisfied with an 
 arrangement which she believed to have been cun- 
 ningly contrived by Cousin George, in order that he 
 might have her exclusive society. 
 
 Lying at her ease, in one of the best bedrooms of 
 the hotel, with the comfortable knowledge that 
 Strachan was paying extra for the dainty meals 
 served to her upstairs, she was tasting something 
 much more like happiness that she had ever known. 
 She had not seen Strachan's terrible perturbation 
 when he was uncertain of Miss Garth's safety. 
 
 They assembled in the lounge, after an early 
 breakfast, waiting to start until their lunch packets 
 were brought to them. The post arrived first, how- 
 ever, and the waiter handed the letters to Mrs. 
 Varick, who had an odd smile as she passed to 
 Charis a letter with the Ringland postmark. 
 
 "Some friends of yours close by," said she. 
 "Ringland is somewhere near Hawes Water, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes," was the tranquil answer. "I know some 
 people there." 
 
 She took the letter with outward composure, but 
 as she saw the handwriting with inward rage. 
 So Clement was at Ringland and Clement knew 
 not merely her alias, but her present address ! That
 
 162 The Judgment of Chans 
 
 detestable, gossiping Mrs. Hunter, whom she barely 
 knew by sight, must have told him! 
 
 She ran upstairs, ostensibly to bid Strachan good- 
 bye, but in reality to see what her persecutor had to 
 say. The letter was very short; merely to the effect 
 that he intended to call at the hotel early next morn- 
 ing, and to "have it out with her." "As your future 
 husband, I claim the right to regulate your pro- 
 ceedings," wrote this benighted and ill-advised young 
 man. "The Osbournes do not break troth, and you 
 and I are betrothed." 
 
 Miss Garth's changeful eyes grew steely and hard 
 as she read. She drew a long breath. "Oh," she 
 murmured, her thoughts adapting themselves to 
 Strachan's attractive slang, "that really has put the 
 lid on 1 He deserves he richly deserves anything 
 I may choose to do after that! And so does father, 
 for allowing him to be such a cad !" 
 
 She sat on her bed, her mind seething with all 
 manner of impulses. She would show him up ! She 
 would take revenge I In her trunk was the bundle of 
 notes for her projected novel; a bundle to which, 
 night after night, she added fresh material, hastily 
 scribbled. If, as everyone assured her, realism is 
 now the desired note for fiction, she could give the 
 picture of the completely selfish, completely inane, 
 completely unreflecting young aristocrat. 
 
 So, in spite of all warnings, he was actually com- 
 ing the following morning, to make trouble ! . . . 
 
 Her outraged feeling was quick to suggest a glori- 
 ous way of routing him! What a turning of the
 
 Lord Clement Butts In 163 
 
 tables, if she could calmly tell him that she was 
 engaged to Gilbert Brown! 
 
 For a few wild moments the tempting prospect 
 danced before her. She saw herself introduced to 
 the Cranstoun-Brown parents as their future daugh- 
 ter-in-law. . . . She pictured their reception of the 
 news. This motor tour, from which the match- 
 making mamma had expected so much was it to 
 yield nothing but the calamitous capture of their 
 only son in the toils of a typewriting clerk? 
 
 She chuckled and gurgled to herself as she visu- 
 alised it all! And Gilbert was going away right 
 away ! The engagement need only last until he was 
 in Ontario. . . . Surely such priceless material 
 would be cheap at the cost of a few days' discom- 
 f ortable pretence ? She knew that Gil would be the 
 shyest, most deferential of lovers, easily kept at 
 arm's length ... he would go off happy, the voy- 
 age out would be full of rosy anticipation of the 
 moment when he could come back to claim her and 
 as soon as he was definitely out of the way, she could 
 confess that she had mistaken her feeling or, easier 
 still, she could write and tell him that the attitude 
 of his family made the engagement impossible. 
 
 She caught herself up with a start, aghast at her 
 own depravity. To what was she drifting? Her 
 heart smote her. Was not some of Clement's dis- 
 approval justified? 
 
 Ever since she first met Strachan, she had been 
 sailing under false colours. She was the "chiel 
 amang 'em, takin' notes" enjoying the snobbishness
 
 164 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 of the Browns occupying a position which, had she 
 been honest, would not have been open to her. 
 
 She sighed impatiently, feeling like a cockle boat 
 tossing upon a tide too strong for it a tide which 
 was carrying it remorselessly out to sea. 
 
 Seizing her fountain pen, she scrawled a tele- 
 gram: 
 
 "Forbid you to come here, await letter from me 
 which follows. C. O." 
 
 This she thrust into her coat pocket, and, with a 
 glance at her watch, sprang to her feet and hurried 
 to Strachan's room. 
 
 She found him already dressed, and seated near a 
 comfortable fire. Upon her entrance he looked up, 
 and gave her the smile which he kept for her only. 
 
 As she encountered it, she knew that the time 
 had come when she must tell this man the truth. 
 
 She felt humbled to the dust as she came up to 
 him, and felt the warm grasp of his hand caressing 
 her own. 
 
 "You know," she faltered, "I don't a bit want to 
 go up that mountain without you." 
 
 "Oh, shucks!" But he looked pleased. "Away 
 you run! Youth and energy mustn't stew all day 
 in a hot room." 
 
 "Perhaps. But I don't like leaving you." 
 
 "And I don't like being parted from you even 
 for a day."
 
 Lord Clement Butts In 165 
 
 "Phyllis will be down soon to keep you com- 
 pany." 
 
 "Poor lassie! I'll do my best to entertain her, 
 
 but I own I find her a bit heavy on hand. Now 
 ) 
 
 "Oh, don't spoil me! I'm a horrid, mean girl! 
 I have thoughts sometimes that are perfectly devil- 
 ish ! I despise myself, and when I come to you to 
 confess my misdoing, you'll despise me too!" She 
 wavered a moment, and then added impulsively : 
 
 "Will you hear my confession to-night?" 
 
 "Why, I guess I know it already. You have had 
 to turn down Gil. But that's his fault, not yours." 
 
 This was so far from her preoccupation of the 
 moment that her thought was flung into confusion. 
 "You're uncanny! How did you know?" 
 
 "Vurry easily. He came to me and said he didn't 
 care if he started for Ontario to-morrow. So then, 
 of course, I knew." 
 
 "Oh, please you don't think I'm to blame?" 
 
 "I'm certain you are not. But I'm sorry for the 
 poor chap. He didn't make himself, and he doesn't 
 realise the gulf . . . also I think it likely that the 
 fact of having known you will leave him spoilt for 
 any other woman." 
 
 "You felt certain I would say No?" in a very low 
 voice. 
 
 "Certain." 
 
 She wondered why this should annoy her. "Well, 
 you haven't heard him make love," she said. "I 
 assure you he's rather wonderful. I I well, I
 
 166 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 will confide to you that I never minded saying ( No' 
 so much." 
 
 "You can't have been more surprised than I am 
 at this minute. Gil make love! You don't say! I 
 would have supposed a stuck pig might give him 
 points! But you have always thought highly of 
 him." 
 
 "When I had to wound him so, I was glad to 
 think that I had from the first done him justice." 
 
 Calls from the corridor without, and running 
 footsteps broke in upon her halting words. There 
 was pounding on the door, Vee eagerly calling to 
 know if she were there, as the entire party waited 
 for her. 
 
 "My fault!" cried Strachan, "tell them all I was 
 keeping her! There, off you go! Have a good 
 time, and come back safe." 
 
 Charis caught up the neat roll of her raincoat, 
 strapping it to her shoulder as she ran downstairs 
 with Vee. 
 
 "You're well equipped for mountaineering, Miss 
 Garth," remarked Sheila approvingly as they ap- 
 peared; and Charis answered breathlessly: "I was 
 brought up in the hill country." 
 
 It was not until they had passed Glenridding, and 
 were on the mountain path, that she remembered 
 that she had not dispatched her telegram.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE MISTY MOUNTAIN-TOP 
 
 THE ascent of Helvellyn, by one of the recog- 
 nised tracks, is laborious, but not adventurous. 
 The walkers, not having with them the two least 
 active members of the party, made good going from 
 the first. 
 
 The weather, upon their setting out, looked rather 
 more promising, and one or two tiny rifts in the 
 cloud canopy, showing the blue through, encouraged 
 them to hope that after all they might be able to see 
 some part of the magnificent panorama from the 
 summit. 
 
 Gilbert quietly and very naturally attached him- 
 self to Sheila Varick. Morrison was discovering in 
 Veronica the makings of a good walker and climber, 
 and they got on together admirably, taking the lead 
 during the whole ascent. Charis found herself 
 paired off with Major Doran, and was astonished to 
 find how little this was to her taste. 
 
 Doran's manner was so empresse that she began 
 to fear she might make the descent that evening with 
 another refusal to her credit. As this must be 
 averted at all costs, her companion did not find her 
 at all responsive. 
 
 He was a little puzzled at her unapproachable at- 
 167
 
 168 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 titude ; and this was pardonable, since Charis was a 
 prey to a mood which she did not herself under- 
 stand. She was like one goaded, or reckless. Some- 
 thing in her seemed to have been jarred, and she told 
 herself that this was the thing they called shock 
 the result of the motor accident. 
 
 Clement had made great capital out of it in his 
 letter. 
 
 Suppose she had been killed, he demanded, and 
 none of those with her had had the least idea as to 
 where to send to let her family know what had 
 happened? She might have been buried under an- 
 other name and her father might not have known 
 of his loss for weeks. 
 
 There was little doubt that, as a fact, she had 
 suffered in some obscure way. She had slept badly 
 ever since ; and it was extremely annoying to be con- 
 stantly awaking with a start from confused dreams 
 in which Gilbert was snatching her to his heart, 
 guarding her from imminent peril some gigantic 
 wave about to break, some horrible animal loosed 
 from its cage. 
 
 It all seemed so ridiculous in the light of day 
 when one could look at his wooden face as he made 
 his way up the rocky track, moving a trifle stiffly, for 
 the lady who had crashed into him had bruised the 
 muscles of his back, and Charis knew he had been 
 more hurt than he would allow. 
 
 She wished he would have walked with her. His 
 company was always congenial, and there being, in 
 his case, now no question of warding off an impend-
 
 The Misty Mountain-Top 169 
 
 ing declaration, she knew she would have enjoyed 
 the climb with him. 
 
 It seemed curious; for Doran was more of her 
 own set, after all. She began to wonder why she 
 liked him so little. She was obliged to fence all the 
 way up, to steer the talk away from the intimate and 
 the personal; and presently she had a considerable 
 shock. 
 
 They were speaking of Strachan of his curious 
 charm and strong individuality; and Charis, glad to 
 have struck so safe a subject, was enlarging upon the 
 pleasure it was to work for him. "You know," she 
 said, "he demands one's best. His kindness doesn't 
 lead him to tolerate any slipshod, careless ways. His 
 clerk has to be thorough. It is fine work, because I 
 have to put forth all my powers to do justice to what 
 he expects of me." 
 
 "And how long," softly inquired Doran, "how 
 long is the masquerade to last eh?" 
 
 This was so unexpected a buffet that she was 
 completely taken aback. "The the masquerade? 
 What masquerade?" she echoed. 
 
 "Have I dropped a brick? If so, I humbly beg 
 pardon. But I concluded, by your allowing us to 
 bring you into these parts, that it was wearing a bit 
 thin: in short I was under the impression that it is 
 by now a kind of secret de Polichinelle. My sister 
 told me you were recognised by one of the ladies on 
 the car that ran us down." 
 
 "One of the ladies thought imagined that she 
 recognised me."
 
 170 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I see I have been intrusive and detestable. 
 Please forget what I have said. I assure you I have 
 no wish to pry into your private affairs and per- 
 haps I had better give Morrison the tip to hold his 
 tongue carefully. You may not be aware that he is 
 a friend of Clem Vyner. . . . But I think you ought 
 to be told that the only ones in this party who have 
 no suspicions are the Browns and Strachan." 
 
 Charis had had time to recapture her control. 
 "Really, Major Doran, you puzzle me," said she. 
 "I think Colonel Morrison must have found a mare's 
 nest. I don't exactly know what you are insinuating, 
 but what you say is very disagreeable to me." 
 
 "My sincerest apologies, and only one word more; 
 if you think carefully, you may be able to hit upon a 
 reason why I should wish to convey to you the 
 knowledge that I, personally, am not deceived. The 
 device of the disguised heiress is still popular in fic- 
 tion. There should, I feel, be perfect honesty on 
 the part of one who thinks as highly of you as I do." 
 
 Charis drew a long breath, touched and surprised 
 by this evidence of delicacy of mind. The Major, 
 wishing to marry her, would not allow her to sup- 
 pose that he really believed her to be the Miss Garth 
 who took a salary for clerical work. 
 
 She felt bitterly ashamed. His straightforward- 
 ness made her own path look crookeder than ever. 
 She felt inclined to blurt out: "You are a good fel- 
 low and a gentleman!" But she dared not risk the 
 result of such candour. 
 
 "Oh, if you have this curious notion in your head,
 
 The Misty Mountain-Top 171 
 
 you were perhaps right to tell me of it," said she, in 
 tones as careless as she could manage. "I must pick 
 my crow with Colonel Morrison, who has been sup- 
 plying you with these wild surmises. Oh, look! 
 What a terrific bit of rock ! Is that Striding Edge ?" 
 
 "It is indeed, and here is where we do a bit of 
 climbing. Morrison said he would take us over. 
 Look at Miss Vee ! How she goes ! But you are 
 pretty well as good. In which of your clerk's jobs 
 did you study mountaineering? Oh, I beg pardon! 
 That's forbidden, isn't it?" 
 
 "You seem to forget that even clerks have holi- 
 days. When we reach the top of this, we are not 
 far from the summit, are we?" 
 
 "I believe not. Fine, isn't it?" 
 
 "Isn't this near the spot where the dead traveller 
 was guarded by his dog for weeks?" 
 
 "You'll see their monument when we reach the 
 summit." 
 
 Talk died down into mere ejaculations and com- 
 ments upon the ascent. But the beating of Charis's 
 heart was still hardly normal when they all as- 
 sembled upon the bare, stony plateau of the summit, 
 and drew within the shelter of the four-armed stone 
 wall erection which offers bleak asylum from the 
 wind. 
 
 "Excellent time !" cried Morrison, exultingly con- 
 sulting his watch. "What ho, comrades ! We stand 
 upon the summit of achievement!" 
 
 "If only we could see just a very few inches 
 beyond our noses!" sighed Mrs. Varick.
 
 172 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "If I had such a nice nose as yours, Mrs. Varlck, 
 I don't think I should have much desire to see 
 beyond!" 
 
 "Surely that would limit her point of view too 
 sternly," put in Gilbert. 
 
 "Thanks, Gil," cried Sheila, "it's lovely to be told 
 one's nose is small nothing flatters a woman more. 
 Yet a large nose is a sign of character, they say 1 I 
 ought to be a nincompoop !" 
 
 "Well, dear girl, nobody has said you are not," 
 observed the Major fraternally. 
 
 "We don't say quite such obvious things as that, 
 though we are not all of us wits," returned.Gil. "We 
 had better sit down in the shelter of this place and 
 eat our lunch, hadn't we?" 
 
 "What is the good of a wind, if it won't clear 
 the sky for us?" complained Charis. "Let's see what 
 way it blows" holding her handkerchief in the 
 breeze "ah, I see you have chosen the right corner 
 for us, Mr. Brown." 
 
 "Sit here," said Gil quietly, motioning to where 
 he had laid a folded mackintosh upon the stone -seat. 
 She smiled gratefully. "Thank you," said she, sit- 
 ting down; and, after a moment's hesitation, he 
 deliberately took his place at her side. 
 
 He was indeed taking his rebuff finely. She had 
 not foreseen, nor reckoned upon the effect his de- 
 meanour produced upon her. It was something to 
 admire and to wonder at. Charis recalled the be- 
 haviour of her cousin Clement after their rupture 
 his resentment, his childish mortification at being
 
 The Misty Mountain-Top 173 
 
 thwarted the things he had made, and was still 
 making, her endure in his pig-headed obstinacy; and 
 she came to the concluson that either Gilbert was 
 much more completely a gentleman at heart than his 
 rival, or that he was not feeling things nearly as 
 much as she expected. 
 
 No one could have guessed, his bearing being so 
 completely natural, that he was staggering under a 
 blow which he felt to be mortal. But just once his 
 courage did fail him, and the glimpse she then ob- 
 tained of what he was going through startled her. 
 
 The weather was bitterly cold, and as they set out 
 she had complained that the nipping air made her 
 fingers quite numb. When she reached the summit, 
 however, she was glowing from head to foot. As 
 Gilbert brought a package of meat pasties and 
 stooped to hand them to her, he said : "I hope your 
 hands are warm now?" 
 
 "Why," cried she, "I'm warm to the very tips of 
 my fingers ! Feel ! Just feel !" 
 
 She laid her bare hand over his the wonderful 
 hand, so fine in texture, so unlike that of any woman 
 he knew; the first thing upon which his eye had 
 rested, in perfect satisfaction, upon the fatal evening 
 when this new planet swam into his ken. At the 
 touch he actually flinched, flinging her a look which 
 mutely asked: "Is there to be no limit to my pur- 
 gatory?" 
 
 Then, withdrawing from the unbearable contact, 
 he said, "That's very satisfactory," and, strolling 
 away a few paces, stood with back turned. She knew
 
 174 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 he was fighting for control, repairing armour tem- 
 porarily pierced; and a kind of anger vexed her. 
 He had no right to be so splendid! 
 
 In a minute or two he sauntered back, and, with- 
 out resuming his place, stood munching his sandwich. 
 "I'm afraid the mists are coming lower," said he; 
 "we are not going to have any view." 
 
 "What a pity ! However, we can all proudly say 
 that we've climbed the dark brow of the mighty Hel- 
 vellyn," said Vee. "Did they make you learn that 
 at school? How does it go: 
 
 "On the right, Striding Edge round the Red Tarn was bending, 
 And Catchedicam its left verge was defending 
 
 Isn't that a fine description? I'm glad we came up 
 that way, and just caught a glimpse of the little 
 Tarn!" 
 
 "Which way do we go on from here?" asked 
 Gilbert. 
 
 Morrison indicated the direction with his hand. 
 "Round there across the end of Swirrel Edge, and 
 over Low Man. I did propose to go down by the 
 Dodds, but it's useless to do that with the weather 
 so thick, merely a long dull tramp over grassy 
 slopes; so I propose to strike off just above Keppel- 
 cove Tarn, and come down past the mines to Glen- 
 ridding. No need for hurry, we have plenty of time, 
 these ladies are all so game." 
 
 "Easier than I expected," said Vee, with keen 
 satisfaction. "How I wish I could tackle a real 
 climb!"
 
 The Misty Mountain-Top 175 
 
 "I'm sure you could, too," replied Morrison, with 
 enthusiasm. "If we are still here to-morrow, I 
 would like to take you over Sharp Edge on Sad- 
 dleback." 
 
 "Saddleback, did you say? That's Blencathra, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes. We could motor to Mungrisedale in 
 Strachan's car and go up from there. But perhaps 
 you'd be too tired." 
 
 "And Gilbert won't be here," said Sheila sadly. 
 "He tells me he is going off to-morrow to collect his 
 kit for Canada." 
 
 "Shame!" cried Morrison. "Surely, Brown, 
 there's no need for you to break up the happy home 
 like this?" 
 
 "Think how we shall miss you," mourned Sheila. 
 "My camera never will behave itself for anybody but 
 you." 
 
 "To be missed by your camera, Mrs. Varick, is 
 better than not being missed at all. But you see I 
 must go out into the world and make my fortune." 
 
 "Lucky beggar ! With a tame millionaire at your 
 elbow to propel you gently along the golden road," 
 sighed Morrison. 
 
 "Just so. I'm not insensible to my blessings, I 
 assure you. I mean to do my best to 'make good,' 
 as dear old George would say." 
 
 "Fill glasses!" cried Sheila suddenly. "Let us 
 drink the health of the new Columbus !" 
 
 They all rose to their feet, and Doran went round,
 
 176 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 filling up the tin cups with the wine which Strachan 
 had insisted upon providing. 
 
 "Here's to our adventurer! May he make good I" 
 cried Sheila, touching her mug to Gilbert's. 
 
 "Best of luck, old man! Come back bursting 
 with oof!" added Vee. 
 
 "Show them a bit of the British Terrier," from 
 Morrison. 
 
 "May your fine courage carry you through," said 
 Charis softly. There was almost a plea in her eyes 
 as she extended the ridiculous tin cup. Gilbert 
 touched it with his own, but did not look at the 
 drinker. 
 
 "Courage! You're right, Miss Garth," said 
 Doran. "It was he who ought to have pouched the 
 D.S.O. they gave me. These things always go to 
 the wrong chap, somehow. Here's luck, Gil! May 
 Canada appreciate you at your true value. Don't be 
 too modest, old son!" 
 
 Gil smiled queerly. "I don't think modesty is one 
 of my failings. What do you say, Miss Garth?" 
 
 It was the solitary thrust he permitted himself, 
 and she took it meekly.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LOST! LOST! LOST! 
 
 AFTER this little ceremony, lunch was packed 
 away, cigarettes discussed, and the descent 
 began. 
 
 Charis found Gilbert at her side. That this pro- 
 pinquity should give her disturbing thrills was 
 doubtless absurd ; but nervous shock is an odd thing. 
 You do not know you are suffering from it until the 
 symptoms break out in this annoying fashion. 
 
 Fiercely she determined to jump upon insurgent 
 emotion, and be as natural and dignified as was her 
 rejected suitor. Surely if he, who was confessedly 
 suffering, could be cool, why not she, who was not 
 suffering at all, save for her compunction in having 
 inflicted pain? 
 
 Desperately she began to talk to say anything 
 that came first, out of sheer nervousness. They had 
 been reading Wordsworth's "Ode for the Festival 
 at Brougham Castle," when the rightful heir came 
 into his own. She was puzzled by the allusion to 
 "the undying fish that swim in Bowscale Tarn." It 
 seemed quite natural that Gilbert should be able to 
 enlighten her. They conversed together upon the 
 local references in the poem with complete mutual 
 satisfaction. What Gilbert had claimed was per- 
 fectly true. She was never bored in his company. 
 
 177
 
 178 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Nevertheless, no pause in the conversation could 
 be tolerated; and when Lord Clifford's wanderings 
 had been discussed, she dashed on headlong, filling 
 up the silence. 
 
 "As you are leaving at once, I conclude that your 
 father is pleased with Mr. Strachan's offer?" 
 
 "What did you say?" He seemed to start from 
 abstraction. "Oh, yes, naturally. As you prophe- 
 sied, my mother seems to be making rather a 
 trouble of it; but her view of life is a bit narrow. 
 She has an idea that you only ship a man off to 
 Canada if he is a hopeless rotter. Well, I'm not 
 exactly that perhaps; but all the same, I'm a failure 
 in love, in war, in business. So to Canada it is 
 fitting that I go." 
 
 "If you are going in that spirit," she cried with 
 vexation, "you will never succeed!" 
 
 "You think.not?" 
 
 "And it's so important that you should succeed." 
 
 "Important? To whom? Oh, I see. You are 
 thinking of my Cousin George." 
 
 "Of course I am. I told him he might trust you. 
 I said I knew you would not let him down. Don't 
 make me a false prophet don't!" 
 
 "Please," he said with careful quietude, "don't 
 try to make me think you care, when you don't care 
 a rap." 
 
 "If I don't care for you, I do for him," she cried, 
 stung. 
 
 "Oh?" queried Gil; and then, after a pause which
 
 Lost! Lost! Lost! 179 
 
 apparently brought enlightenment "O-oh! Is that 
 it?" 
 
 The echo of her rash words came back to her in 
 the significance of his tone, and she trembled with 
 annoyance. "Oh, don't pretend to be stupid ! You 
 know what I mean. I am in his service, I am 
 anxious to help him all I can " She floundered 
 for words, and suddenly felt that the less she said 
 the better. 
 
 Gilbert, who had been walking with his eyes on 
 the ground, gave a great sigh, straightened his 
 shoulders and looked up. 
 
 He made a small sound of consternation, staring 
 in front of him; and Charis likewise came to herself 
 with a start and gazed around. They came to a 
 standstill. 
 
 Swirls of soft white vapour, like smoke, were all 
 about them. There was neither sight nor sound 
 of the others. They stood side by side in a white 
 world of their own, as though a curtain had been 
 lowered between themselves and all the rest of 
 creation. 
 
 "I must shout," said Gilbert, searching his 
 pockets, his face crimson with mortification. "I 
 don't know the way . . . and . . . Great Scott I 
 I lent my map to Doran at lunch, and he hasn't re- 
 turned it!" 
 
 "Oh, shout!" urged Charis, "please shout at once, 
 and as loud as you can!" 
 
 Gilbert raised his voice he had sound lungs
 
 180 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 and was answered by a faint "Hallo!" through the 
 mist. 
 
 "Where are you? Stop! Stand still till we join 
 you!" he cried. 
 
 A muttering of confused sound came back to 
 them. They could not distinguish the words. 
 
 "Can't hear! speak louder!" he trumpeted. The 
 reply wandered back to them as a wholly unintelli- 
 gible murmur. 
 
 "Idiots! They are moving farther off!" raged 
 poor Gil. "Why can't they come back a few steps?" 
 
 "Are you sure we were behind them?" asked 
 Charis hesitatingly. 
 
 He bit his lip. Since they started to walk to- 
 gether he had been conscious of nothing but her, and 
 they both knew it. 
 
 "If they, too, are enveloped in this mist," she sug- 
 gested, "they probably think they had better not 
 move until they can see their direction. It is grow- 
 ing thicker every minute." 
 
 "Like having one's head wrapped up in a blan- 
 ket," he groaned. "However, I'll try once more." 
 Again he sent out his powerful voice ; this time they 
 could hardly be certain of being answered at all. 
 Silence fell, a curious silence, which seemed full of a 
 vast suspense, as if the great mountain waited to see 
 what the two waifs upon her desolate and stony sum- 
 mit would make of the situation. 
 
 "I am trying to remember," said Gilbert fever- 
 ishly, "exactly what Morrison said. As far as I can 
 recall it, he thought it was useless to go down by the
 
 Lost! Lost! Lost! 181 
 
 Dodds, in this weather, because one can see nothing 
 in the way of a prospect. He meant to begin by 
 following the route down by the Dodds, and strike 
 off it, so as to go down Glenridding." 
 
 "Yes, that's my memory of what he said . . . 
 and didn't he mention that there are cairns along 
 the track?" He moved away a few steps, uncer- 
 tainly, and she cried quickly: "Don't go away! 
 Don't leave me alone!" 
 
 "I was trying to shape a course by the direction 
 of the wind," he explained, "but it appears to have 
 dropped. On the summit there was quite a sharp, 
 cold breeze from the south-west; but now it seems 
 to be blowing any way, or hardly at all. These 
 vapours are all twisting and curling about like steam 
 in a cauldron." . . . He paused, then turned to her 
 a face she hardly recognised. 
 
 "This is all my miserable fault. I was so 
 wrapped up in my own feelings that I could think 
 of nothing else. I swore to you that it should make 
 no difference ; and now I've landed you in this . . . 
 and the mischief of it all is, that though I deserve 
 to be sent packing, you'll have to put up with my 
 society for the present, on the ground that even I 
 am better than nobody." 
 
 He seemed as though he would have said more, 
 but his voice died as he met her hazel eyes lifted to 
 his from under the soft woolly edge of her cap, 
 which, with the loose hair above her brow, was 
 thickly beaded with the condensed moisture of the 
 mist.
 
 1 82 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Mr. Brown, don't be silly ! If I had to be lost, 
 I'm glad yes, glad that it's you I am lost with ! 
 Cheer up! These clouds are on the move. There 
 will come a jag in the curtain presently, and then 
 we shall see where we are." 
 
 His mouth quivered as he gazed upon her. Then, 
 brushing his eyes with his hand, he drew a long 
 breath. "I might have known," he murmured. 
 What it was that he might have known did not ap- 
 pear. When he spoke again, his face had lost its 
 chalky whiteness, and he had himself well in hand. 
 "I agree with you that it's quite likely we may get 
 a peep before long, and I think it worth while to wait 
 a bit. I feel helpless, because I haven't a compass. 
 One never ought to go up without one." 
 
 "Well, I think we are unduly nervous. I expect 
 we are only a few steps out of our way, after all." 
 
 "If this were August, there would probably, even 
 on such a bad day, be other parties up here. But 
 at this time of year the ascents are not so frequent. 
 I think I'll try one more call, shall I?" 
 
 He did so; but this time there was no response. 
 
 "If they thought we were lost, they would have 
 waited, or turned back," said she. "We have not 
 moved, so I conclude we have only to go on as soon 
 as our way becomes visible. I dare say the mist 
 isn't so thick where they are, and they don't realise 
 we are in difficulties." 
 
 "Quite likely." 
 
 "And we're not in difficulties, are we?" Her
 
 Lost! Lost! Lost! 183 
 
 smile was almost coaxing. "We're just taking a few 
 minutes' rest." 
 
 He sat down on the stony ground near her, but 
 not very near. For a long minute the surrounding 
 silence closed over their heads like an ocean. Then 
 he said, quietly: 
 
 "So, one day more am I deified. 
 Who knows but the world may end to-night?" 
 
 She sighed, restlessly. In every pulse she felt his 
 influence. He was not looking at her, he was de- 
 manding nothing; but he seemed to her to be dan- 
 gerously strong. 
 
 "Mr. Brown," said she suddenly, "you mustn't. 
 Kindly allow me the free use of my own will and 
 judgment." 
 
 "I'm not; at least, I'm trying not to," was the 
 cryptic response. A spectator might have recalled 
 Wordsworth's comment on the Brownings: "Well, 
 it is to be hoped they understand each other, for cer- 
 tainly no one else could." 
 
 Charis understood, fatally well. 
 
 "A-a-ah 1" cried he, breaking the intense moment. 
 
 The veil of white showed dark spots in its heart. 
 It raced on, tossing wild, Kiihleborn-like arms. The 
 arid waste at their feet unrolled slowly before them; 
 they saw a little heap of stones then another. 
 
 "The cairns!" cried Gilbert, springing to his feet. 
 "We are on the path all right dead on it!" 
 
 He helped her up and they moved on eagerly. 
 They could perceive a faint track r and this they fol-
 
 184 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 lowed for some time, the mist just allowing them a 
 glimpse of the next little cairn ahead. When they 
 had gone some way there was a further lifting of the 
 veil, which showed them on their right a sheer drop. 
 They were about to skirt the upper edge of a line of 
 precipitous crags. 
 
 "That must be Swirrel Edge no doubt the Red 
 Tarn lies down there, where the fog's so dense. 
 Morrison said we had to cross the end of it, so all 
 we have to do now is to go on and why, look down 
 there no, ever so far farther on your left. . . ." 
 
 A wan beam of light in the valley glinted upon 
 water. "The lake ! Why, of course, that must be 
 Ullswater. We're looking straight down Glenrid- 
 ding. Ah, well, we are all right now!" 
 
 "My guilty conscience made me lose heart too 
 soon," he apologised, as they made the best of their 
 way onward. As they progressed the way became 
 each instant more difficult. Gilbert had not expected 
 to find it so hard, so much of an actual climb as it 
 was proving to be. 
 
 He was no mountaineer, but he was strong, steady 
 and capable. He felt that his companion knew more 
 about rocks than he did. She made no complaint, 
 and came along bravely; but the mist still dogged 
 them, hanging about, sweeping to and fro, and 
 making it impossible to see any line of country far 
 ahead. 
 
 Once it came down so densely that they dare not 
 go forward and were obliged to sit down and rest. 
 Gilbert had some biscuits in his rucksack, and also
 
 Lost! Lost! Lost! 185 
 
 some hot drink in a flask. While they refreshed 
 themselves, they talked talked as it seemed most 
 unlikely that either of them would ever talk to any- 
 one else on earth. Problems of destiny, of philoso- 
 phy, of religion upon each of these there seemed to 
 be between them that amount of common ground 
 which, while it does not necessarily mean agreement, 
 means always an intelligible basis for discussion. 
 Gilbert knew that this girl had received a first-rate 
 education. In fact, a passing allusion showed him 
 that she had been at Oxford. 
 
 In spite, however, of the supreme fascination of 
 their talk, he was again on his feet the moment the 
 mist lifted. This time the wind had apparently 
 made up its mind to blow steadily, and soon the 
 whole of the mountainside below them came into 
 plain sight, though all distances still remained 
 shrouded. 
 
 "I think the wind has changed," he said doubt- 
 fully. "We ought to be on the sheltered side more 
 or less here, and it seems to be driving right at us." 
 
 "All the better! It will chase this mist clean 
 away! Now, you must just drink this that I have 
 poured out for you, and then we'll go on." 
 
 She held out to him the cup portion of the flask. 
 "Sorry you must drink after me," said she, "but 
 there is no other cup." 
 
 Gilbert knelt down in the coarse herbage at her 
 feet. He took off his cap, received the cup, and 
 drank, as it were, sacramentally. It was done so 
 quietly that the significance of the action would have
 
 1 86 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 been lost on most spectators. To bring himself to 
 her level, as she sat on a low stone, it might be as 
 easy to drink upon his knees as in any other position. 
 But the import of what he did flowed in upon Charis, 
 and shook her unexpectedly. While ignoring as 
 was doubtless his wish the whole transaction, she 
 found that her voice, when she wanted to say some- 
 thing flippant, was not under control. She choked 
 and was silent. 
 
 Now that he could see below him, Gilbert was 
 acutely aware that they had by no means begun their 
 descent by the best way; in fact, they had lost the 
 path, and had some very difficult ground to nego- 
 tiate. The sight of the lake now again visible was, 
 however, reassuring, and he worked with all his 
 might to lessen her fatigue as much as possible over 
 the long tract of marshy ground which they found 
 themselves obliged to traverse. 
 
 He was a good deal puzzled that the features of 
 the hills, now that he could see something of them, 
 did not seem to tally with what he remembered of 
 the Ullswater Valley. As they descended, he 
 searched in vain for some landmark which might 
 show him how far along the lakeside they would 
 strike the high road. 
 
 He began to fear that they must have moved a 
 long way northward of their true course, and be 
 coming down not Glenridding, but Glencoyne, a mile 
 or two higher up or rather lower down the lake 
 than the portion near Patterdale, which was all that 
 he knew.
 
 Lost! Lost! Lost! 187 
 
 When, after a protracted and toilsome struggle, 
 they actually came out upon the firm white road, he 
 could hardly believe in his good fortune, for it was 
 not much after seven o'clock they might count upon 
 two hours more of daylight and he thought he 
 could certainly hire some kind of vehicle to drive 
 them back should it turn out that they had far to go. 
 
 "We turn to the right, of course," said he doubt- 
 fully. "But I am afraid we must be a good way 
 from Glenridding. It all looks so different, doesn't 
 it? The lake is so much narrower here than it is 
 where we are staying." 
 
 Charis agreed. The road upon which they stood 
 seemed to be entirely unfrequented. It was beauti- 
 ful, with the grey, wan, tearful beauty of the lake 
 district; but it seemed lonely and forlorn. 
 
 "Well," said she, "we had better walk on. We 
 are sure to find a hotel soon, are we not?" 
 
 "Oh, quite sure; and then I can get a trap and 
 drive you back. I can see you are very tired. That 
 has been heavy going all through my inexperi- 
 ence!" 
 
 "What nonsense ! The best mountaineers get lost 
 in a mist, and without map or compass, what can 
 one do?" 
 
 They walked on cheerfully ; but Gilbert grew still 
 more worried when the road they followed ceased to 
 border the lake and turned more or less inland. 
 They kept on, however, and when they had gone the 
 better part of two miles they came upon a small inn. 
 
 "Good !" he cried. "Now we can find out where
 
 i88 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 we are ! Courage ! After all, we shan't be much 
 late for dinner at the hotel." 
 
 It was quite a small, wayside affair, most unlike 
 the big hotels at Patterdale and Glenridding, and it 
 was with a curious sense of walking in a dream, or 
 a nightmare, that Gilbert went into the bar and 
 asked how far they were from the Ullswater Hotel. 
 
 The landlord, who stood behind his bar, set down 
 the glass he was wiping and stared open-mouthed, 
 as though they had asked how far it was to London. 
 
 "Ullswater?" he repeated, scratching his head. 
 
 "Yes, the hotel along here" pointing as he spoke 
 "the hotel by the lakeside at Glenridding?" 
 
 "Glenridding? Why, where d'you think you 
 are?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know exactly where I am, but on 
 the shore of Ullswater somewhere " 
 
 "This ain't Ullswater. This is Thirlmere," 
 ejaculated the landlord, staring as though he thought 
 Gilbert slightly daft.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 BID ME GOOD-BYE 
 
 THIRLMERE!" they both echoed, unable to 
 believe their ears. 
 
 The landlord lifted the flap of his counter and 
 came out to them, as though he thought this might 
 help to elucidate the situation. "Where you come 
 from?" he asked with interest. 
 
 "From the top of Helvellyn. We made the ascent 
 from Glenridding this morning." 
 
 "And then the mist came down, eh? Well, you 
 ain't the first that's made the same mistake. Took 
 the Low Man Crags to be Swirrel Edge, "I'll lay. 
 Came down the wrong side of the mountain. Well, 
 there it is." 
 
 Gilbert was so mortified that he could not, for a 
 moment, say anything at all. 
 
 "We got separated from our party, and they had 
 all the maps and the compass with them," put in 
 Charis. "However, we are safe and sound, so there 
 is no need to worry. I suppose we can get home 
 to-night?" 
 
 Gilbert, glancing round, went to where a big 
 ordnance map hung upon the wall. He examined it 
 closely, in a bitter silence. "Yes," he muttered at 
 last, "I see how it happened." 
 
 189
 
 190 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "And as I was telling you, you ain't the first," 
 was the man's cheerful comment. 
 
 Gilbert's gaze ran up the map, following the line 
 of the only road, which ran northward through the 
 Valley of St. John and then bent round, eastward 
 by way of Threlkeld and Troutbeck, dropping to the 
 lake past Dockray, by Lyulph's Tower. It was the 
 only way back, unless you went, as they had come, 
 over the mountain itself. 
 
 "Got any horses?" he asked the man. 
 
 "I've got two, but they're out. The Water Com- 
 pany's busy making a survey, out by Hawes Water 
 somewhere, and they've hired 'em. They won't get 
 back to-night." 
 
 "No car, I suppose?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Where do you suppose I could find either horses 
 or a car?" 
 
 "Bad day for that, sir. There's nowt at Wyth- 
 burn, I know, for the survey men have hired theirs 
 too. Not nearer than Threlkeld or Keswick, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 Gilbert measured with his eye the distance on the 
 map. 
 
 "Five six miles to Threlkeld." 
 
 "I can do that," said Charis determinedly. 
 
 "Well, if we make the attempt we must have a 
 meal first," he replied, turning from the map with 
 a sigh. "Can you give us anything?" he asked the 
 landlord; "eggs and bacon would do." 
 
 Their host thought eggs and bacon might be
 
 Bid Me Good-bye 191 
 
 managed, and ushered them into a little parlour 
 which felt chilly and smelt stuffy. Gilbert asked him 
 to light the fire, upon which he summoned his wife, 
 a sour, stony-looking female, who performed the 
 operation with seeming reluctance, and then con- 
 ducted Charis to a low-ceilinged room almost com- 
 pletely filled by a large four-post bed, and gave her 
 water and a towel. 
 
 The water was cold, and the girl guessed that 
 there was no fire, even in the kitchen, upon that 
 night of supposed summer. 
 
 "I fancy they will have to light the fire before 
 they can cook us anything," said she, as she reap- 
 peared in the parlour, freshly brushed and neat. 
 "Hadn't we better say that bread and cheese will 
 do?" 
 
 "No," said Gilbert decidedly. "A good rest is 
 necessary for you, if you are to trudge these mortal 
 miles this evening. It won't be dark for a long 
 time yet, and I know George Strachan would want 
 me to take care of you." 
 
 "But I don't want to keep him in a state of anxi- 
 ety for he will be anxious, you know." 
 
 "He will," muttered Gilbert, as though the fact 
 displeased him. 
 
 "And this waiting is all on my account. If you 
 were alone, you would go on without waiting at all, 
 wouldn't you now?" 
 
 "If I were alone? That will be always," he said 
 heavily; adding after a pulsating pause, "Oh, I see, 
 you think I'm behaving like a cad spinning it out
 
 192 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 but honestly, I didn't lose the way on purpose. I 
 did actually believe that we were coming down on 
 Ullswater. I had no intention of forcing my com- 
 pany on you all these hours. You believe that, don't 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," was all her reply. She was sitting upon 
 a black horsehair couch, which was festooned with 
 many crochet antimacassars. Her elbow rested upon 
 its head, her chin was propped in her hand. Her 
 eyes gazed out upon the little patch of garden 
 ground visible through the window. As so often 
 happens in the north, the house had been placed 
 and planned without the smallest regard for aspect 
 or outlook. The small mean back premises of the 
 inn might have been those of a suburban hostelry. 
 
 Gilbert, who had been pacing the room, came and 
 sat down by her. She did not move, nor make any 
 sign of disliking his company. They remained so 
 for some time, in a queer stillness as though they 
 both dreaded the next word or movement. A clock 
 with a hoarse wheezy tick measured off the duration 
 of that endless pause. The man's voice broke it; 
 but gently, as though he handled it with awe. "I'm 
 going away to-morrow ... I wonder what you 
 would say if I asked you to let me kiss you good- 
 bye?" 
 
 She sat upright with a start. Just for a moment 
 she drew herself away, her hands over her mouth. 
 Gilbert, accepting this decision without protest, 
 made to rise. Then her hand flashed out and de- 
 tained him. She gave a gasp which was half a cry;
 
 Bid Me Good-bye 193 
 
 and in a moment, how could hardly be said, she was 
 sobbing in his arms, her forehead propped against 
 his shoulder. 
 
 "Oh, Gilbert, don't! Don't!" she brought cut 
 amid her tears. "What have you done to me? I 
 can't. . . . Oh, oh, it's unbearable 1" 
 
 He held her closely, and his touch was magnetic, 
 or vital. She felt, as she afterwards phrased it, as 
 if her very bones were melting. His voice, low and 
 steady, sounded close to her ear. 
 
 "It's all right. Don't reproach yourself. You've 
 been honest with me, and I don't complain. To- 
 morrow I shall be gone, and I don't think you'll be 
 any the worse for having given me five minutes' 
 heaven . . . will you?" 
 
 In sheer surprise her sobs died away. He was 
 extraordinary. What any other man must have 
 taken for surrender, he believed to be merely the 
 outrush of sympathy for his suffering. 
 
 "Oh, you're uncanny," she faltered, "uncanny! 
 How came you to be so so " 
 
 "So what?" 
 
 "Like this!" 
 
 "Why, you know very well. What happened to 
 Cymon has happened to me. Did you expect that 
 it would make no difference ?" 
 
 He still held her not exactly tightly, but very 
 firmly. She made no effort to detach herself, 
 though it was to her as though his very being were 
 communicating itself to her in every throb of the
 
 194 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 healthy heart which she could hear pounding in his 
 chest. 
 
 "I don't know ... I can't foresee . . . how all 
 this can end," she murmured, as though she did not 
 know what she said, "but yes since it means so 
 much to you you may, Gilbert, you may!" 
 
 The organ to which her ear was pressed gave a 
 leap, but he neither moved nor tightened his hold. 
 He bent his head a little and she turned her face 
 upward with closed eyes, waiting. 
 
 A tense moment went by in which nothing 
 happened. 
 
 "I was wrong," he whispered thickly. "I 
 mustn't! Once done, it could never be undone, for 
 ever and ever." 
 
 He could hardly hear the answering whisper 
 which was sighed forth into the air. 
 
 "I'll . . . risk it!" 
 
 Then, indeed, she knew the pressure of his warm, 
 strong mouth upon her own knew it with a terror, 
 a sudden realisation that the die was cast that the 
 man had been right it'could never be undone. . . . 
 
 It lasted a thousand years. When she was free 
 to speak again, she moaned submissively: 
 
 "Very well, if I must. Yes. I'll marry you." 
 
 "If you marry any other man, you'll still be'mine," 
 said Gilbert calmly; but his low voice sounded like 
 a paean of triumph. 
 
 In the ensuing moments Charis was conscious of 
 feeling like two people at once. Half of her was 
 there, trembling in her lover's arms and half of
 
 Bid Me Good-bye 195 
 
 her hovered perilously upon the brink of a wild 
 reaction of a resentment which threatened to grow 
 formidable. 
 
 Just as she was on the point of tearing herself 
 away, the arms which enclosed her opened. With 
 steady hands Gilbert put her from him, rose, went 
 to the window; stood there silent, moved towards 
 the door then back; and spoke what were perhaps 
 the words she would least have expected to hear. 
 
 "I'm a cad. I've done the very thing that any 
 man with a gleam of chivalry of generosity 
 would not have done. I've played upon your feel- 
 ings, I've attacked your loneliness, your fatigue, 
 your pity! . . . Well, it's over. You won't expect 
 me to say I regret what has happened because I 
 am going to live on the memory of it for the rest 
 of my life. But what you said just then was non- 
 sense, of course. We are not engaged." 
 
 This announcement flung his lady into a whirlpool 
 of confused thought. It knocked flat the seething 
 rebellion in her, leaving her so astonished that all 
 mental process ceased, and nothing was left but a 
 tingling memory which caused her, who rarely 
 blushed, to feel herself crimson all over. 
 
 "You . . . mean that?" she succeeded in saying 
 at last. 
 
 "I mean it. When you were in your sober senses, 
 you had no use for me. You refused me without 
 any kind of hesitation. Now because you are feeling 
 done up and weak, and because I've worked you up 
 into a state of emotional compassion, you have said
 
 196 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 what it would cost you dear to stand to. Well, I 
 give you back your word." 
 
 "I'm not in the habit ... of taking back my 
 word." 
 
 "Ah, you're brave brave and reckless. I must 
 take the decision out of your hands. It's a hundred 
 to one that to-morrow you'll wonder what possessed 
 you to tie yourself up to a fellow you don't love." 
 
 She contemplated him with an expression hard to 
 analyse. Was he right? How did she feel? Was 
 she relieved? Or was she suddenly cold, like a 
 nestling pushed out from love's warm nest? She 
 could not deny that, even with his arms about her, 
 she had doubted, and rebelled. Would her present 
 mood pass utterly, leaving only the ashes of a 
 momentary passion, a straw fire? . . . His insight 
 was literally terrible. 
 
 "You are ... an extraordinary man," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "You won't think so to-morrow. You will see 
 me by the light of common day just one of a hun- 
 dred thousand mediocre chaps with as much right 
 to your love as a cabbage has to be the central dish 
 of the dessert table. I'm under no illusions myself, 
 and you shall not be either if I can help it. If, when 
 this is all over and I have gone to Ontario, you 
 should feel that you can't live without me ... why 
 then" with a wry smile "you can write and tell 
 me so. But this evening, there is no question of our 
 being engaged." 
 
 "And it is of no use for me to protest?"
 
 Bid Me Good-bye 197 
 
 "Not the faintest. I decide this." 
 
 "I wonder if you're right, or whether you're help- 
 lessly, ruinously wrong? ... I can't tell. Perhaps 
 it is better to leave it until to-morrow. I feel so 
 wretchedly uncertain. It is not so much that I doubt 
 my own feelings; but there are so many things to 
 be considered to be faced things you don't know 
 about which I couldn't tell you about, unless we 
 were engaged . . . and . . . I'm very tired." 
 
 "I know it. Here comes your supper. Don't 
 worry about me. I'm pretty tough. I can stand 
 things." 
 
 The landlord's wife brought in a sizzling dish of 
 ham and eggs.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 PHYLLIS EXPLAINS 
 
 THE rain was streaming steadily; a merciless 
 downpour which looked as if it meant to last 
 for a week. It was cold too cold as summer in the 
 north so well knows how to be. 
 
 The solitary occupant of the Rolls-Royce which 
 drew up before the Ullswater hotel was chilled and 
 shivery; which facts did not incline him to toleration, 
 nor urge him to unselfishness. 
 
 The hall-porter hastened out as the great car 
 stopped; and Lord Clement, emerging, dashed for 
 the shelter of the porch before turning to ask the 
 man snappishly whether there was a Miss Garth 
 staying there. 
 
 "Miss Garth? Yes, sir. Young lady in the party 
 of Mr. Strachan, the Canadian gentleman." 
 
 "Is she in?" 
 
 The porter gave a sheepish grin, as though the 
 question were amusing. "Well, no, sir, she isn't, 
 not at present," he replied affably. 
 
 The reply infuriated the young man. So she had 
 gone out, had she? Perhaps this man was aware 
 that she had gone out to avoid her visitor. He 
 knew that he deserved to be treated in this way, and 
 
 108
 
 Phyllis Explains 199 
 
 the knowledge made him all the angrier. "Can you 
 tell me at what time she is likely to be in?" 
 
 "Well, sir, for the matter of that, they might get 
 back pretty soon, now. Mr. Strachan and Mrs. 
 Varick, one of the ladies of the party, have gone in 
 the car to fetch her home." 
 
 "To fetch her home? Why, where is she?" 
 
 "I am really not quite sure, sir. You see, she 
 has been out all night" the visitor jumped percep- 
 tibly "with young Mr. Cranstoun-Brown lost on 
 the mountain." 
 
 "The devil she has! And where is this Cran- 
 stoun-Brown, whoever he may be ?" 
 
 "I fancy he's in bed, sir, having been up pretty 
 well all night." 
 
 "Are any of this party of lunatics anywhere 
 about? I mean, could I see, or speak to any of 
 them?" 
 
 The porter hesitated. "The eldest Miss Cran- 
 stoun-Brown is in the lounge, sir. All the gentlemen 
 are in bed, I believe." 
 
 "Well, just tell the eldest Miss Cranstoun-Brown 
 that a friend of Miss Garth's has called, and would 
 like to speak to her, will you?" 
 
 "No name, sir?" 
 
 "No. Say I won't detain her long." 
 
 Phyllis was seated before a noble fire, wearing 
 a rest-gown of a becoming shade. Her few days in 
 bed had slightly etherealised her, and she was look- 
 ing her best. But her mood was not happy. Cousin 
 George and she had passed the whole of the pre-
 
 20O The Judgment of Charis 
 
 ceding day together; and not only had nothing come 
 of it, but she had felt a detestable conviction that the 
 gentleman was trying to convey to her, delicately 
 but unmistakably, the information that nothing 
 would ever come of it. 
 
 A day or so previously, her hopes had risen to a 
 giddy height, because he had suddenly presented her 
 with banknotes to the value of fifty pounds, saying it 
 was just a small sum for her to spend upon some 
 souvenir of their tour, when they should reach a 
 place with shops in it. 
 
 Now, as she looked back at it, she did not feel 
 the episode to be as encouraging as it had first ap- 
 peared. Veronica had received exactly the same 
 that might be to prevent it from looking too marked 
 but was it not more in the role of the benevolent 
 uncle than in that of the suitor? 
 
 For a few hours after its presentation she had 
 lived in momentary expectation of his proposal. He 
 would naturally be diffident. He would feel that his 
 sober years and his widowed condition were circum- 
 stances against him. He would dwell upon her 
 youth and freshness, and urge her to make him 
 happy. Poor old Cousin George ! It was not much 
 fun to have so elderly a husband. Naturally she 
 would have preferred a romantic love affair. But 
 it was worth while ! She saw herself seated, clad 
 in sables from head to foot, in the smartest car that 
 rolled down Bond Street, attended by a skilled and 
 devoted maid travelling everywhere first-class, sit- 
 ting, as it were, perpetually in the stalls ! . . .
 
 Phyllis Explains 201 
 
 But now that yesterday had passed, she was as- 
 sailed by horrid doubts. She wished that she had 
 not, at once upon receiving her fifty pounds, written 
 to order those exquisite jumpers from Debenham 
 and Freebody ! It might have been wiser first to pay 
 back that detestable cat, Miss Garth. It was she 
 and no other who was to be held responsible for 
 Cousin George's defection. The poor man was 
 simply infatuated with his crafty secretary! 
 
 At the moment that the porter entered the room, 
 she was indulging in the exercise of a very strong 
 and ever-increasing Hate. 
 
 His message caused her to prick up her ears. A 
 gentleman young friend of Miss Garth would 
 not give his name. Was she by this lucky accident 
 to be made the recipient of some dark secret, some 
 story about the discreet secretary which should give 
 her the whip-hand? 
 
 Burning with curiosity, she said she would see the 
 visitor; and Clem Vyner stalked in, the very image 
 of the young nobleman on the stage, with a pre- 
 cision of detail about all his accessories which roused 
 Phyl's admiration, always so easily stirred at sight 
 of a personable male. She was still wearing a sling, 
 though the doctor had said she need not. It gave a 
 touch of interest, of pathos. Faintly smiling, she 
 half rose, begged the stranger to excuse her she 
 was not yet fully recovered from a motor accident. 
 
 Clem apologised glibly for his intrusion. He was 
 staying in the neighbourhood had been told that 
 Miss Garth, too, was in the accident had called to
 
 202 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 make sure of her not having been hurt. On the 
 threshold of the hotel he was greeted with the news 
 that Miss Garth had been out all night upon the 
 mountainside. He would be grateful to be told the 
 exact facts. 
 
 Phyl leant back among her pillows, dallying with 
 this situation. "Well," said she, after a show of 
 hesitation, "I don't know who you are, do I? Am 
 I justified in talking about Miss Garth's affairs to a 
 complete stranger?" 
 
 He looked pleased and approving. "You're a 
 charming girl, Miss Cranstoun-Brown, if you will 
 excuse the comment. But it's all right really. I am 
 Miss Garth's cousin, and my name's Vyner. May I 
 confide to you that she is one of the modern kind 
 set upon living her own life and that her family 
 are a little uneasy about her?" 
 
 Phyl's vanity began to strut. She gave thp 
 stranger a glance of sympathetic understanding 
 which tickled him hugely. He divined that a good 
 many men would call this girl charming in the first 
 few minutes, and be bored to death in the ensuing 
 half hour. 
 
 "Oh, well, if you are one of her family, I sup- 
 pose I may as well tell you what happened," said 
 she. "You see, they all went up Helvellyn yester- 
 day." 
 
 "Pardon the interruption of whom did the party 
 consist?" 
 
 "My brother, my sister, Mrs. Varick, Major 
 Doran, Colonel Morrison and Miss Garth, who,
 
 Phyllis Explains 203 
 
 as I suppose you know, is secretary to my cousin, 
 Mr. Strachan." 
 
 "Is that so? Secretary!" His voice showed 
 annoyance, or disapproval. "Who and what, if one 
 may ask, is this Mr. Strachan, who needs the con- 
 stant services of a secretary?" 
 
 "My cousin is a Canadian he has a very large 
 business in Ontario. He is enormously wealthy, and 
 has a great deal of correspondence." 
 
 "Indeed? And I understand that the whole party 
 which you have mentioned is making a motor tour?" 
 
 She explained that this was so, and related the 
 story of the collision on the Kirkstone Pass, which 
 entailed the laying-up of one car, and a few days' 
 halt in their present quarters. "They thought it a 
 pity to be staying here and net go up Helvellyn." 
 
 "I conclude that the young men are practised 
 mountaineers?" 
 
 "Colonel Morrison is. I think Major Doran also 
 has done some climbing. But my brother, who got 
 lost with Miss Garth, has never done any." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes, I expect that was how it happened. The 
 mist was very thick. It delayed the party a good 
 deal, coming down. However, they arrived back 
 here about seven, and told us that the two others 
 were some way behind. They said they got sep- 
 arated at the top, but Miss Garth was so much the 
 best and most experienced of the ladies that they did 
 not worry. However, when they were about three 
 parts of the way down, they halted a bit. The others
 
 204 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 were not in sight, and Major Doran suddenly re- 
 membered that he had borrowed my brother's map 
 and not returned it. Just then, a tourist overtook 
 them. He had been nearly all the way up, but 
 turned back on account of the mist; and he said he 
 had seen the two, and that they were behind him. 
 So then they thought it was all right, and they came 
 home. But time passed, and the others did not ap- 
 pear, and after dinner they went out and made in- 
 quiries, and it turned out that the couple the tourist 
 had seen were quite different people they came 
 from Dockray." 
 
 "Then you became anxious?" 
 
 "My cousin, Mr. Strachan, made the most ridicu- 
 lous commotion. The others assured him it was all 
 right, but he worked himself up into a tremendous 
 state and wanted to send out search parties at once. 
 They persuaded him to wait another hour or two, 
 as it seemed certain the others must turn up sooner 
 or later. And presently it began to rain, and soon 
 after to pour in torrents. So then he insisted upon 
 a search party; and Major Doran and Colonel Mor- 
 rison went with them. Mr. Strachan had such a 
 severe cold that he did not go; but he paced the 
 hall and would not go to bed." 
 
 "Well, please go on." 
 
 "Well, between one and two in the morning, my 
 brother turned up soaked to the skin, alone, riding 
 a bicycle. He had left Miss Garth at a small inn at 
 Threlkeld."
 
 Phyllis Explains 205 
 
 "Threlkeld? How in the name of all that's won- 
 derful did they reach there?" 
 
 "They got turned round somehow, in the mist, 
 and came down the wrong side of the mountain 
 mistook the other lake do they call it Thirlmere ? 
 for Ullswater." 
 
 "Great Scott!" 
 
 "Yes, and they couldn't hire horses. They did 
 get food at an inn, but it seems all the horses had 
 been hired for some Government Survey, so they 
 had to walk to Threlkeld; and the rain set in, and 
 the weather was so wild they were almost blown off 
 their feet. When Miss Garth arrived there she was 
 dead beat; and still they could get no horses. So 
 my brother thought the best thing he could do was 
 to hire a push-bike and ride here to let us know she 
 was safe. He said they were giving her a hot bath 
 and putting her comfortably to bed when he left. 
 He had no map, and had never been that way before, 
 and the rain and wind kept putting out his lamps, so 
 it took him hours to find this hotel. Oh, Mr. 
 Strachan was angry! I have never seen him angry 
 before; he is usually most sweet-tempered; but he 
 rated Gilbert almost unfairly I thought. After all, 
 I don't suppose Miss Garth will be any the worse 
 for it." 
 
 There was a slight pause, while Clem digested 
 these tidings. 
 
 "And where," he presently asked, "are they all 
 now?" 
 
 "The men are in bed and Mr. Strachan and Mrs.
 
 206 The Judgment of Chads 
 
 Varick have gone in the car to fetch Miss Garth 
 back." 
 
 Clem pondered, then took a decision. "I think," 
 he said, "that in these exciting circumstances I will 
 not wait to see Miss Garth this morning. She will 
 probably be feeling a bit cheap and out of curl when 
 she arrives, won't she? And as I have a bone to 
 pick with her, I had better select some other mo- 
 ment. Do you know how long you will be here?" 
 
 "The chauffeur thought they would finish the car 
 to-morrow, and if they do, we shall be off the follow- 
 ing day." 
 
 "Well, then, I think I will look round to-morrow. 
 But, I say" he paused abruptly, rose, went to the 
 window, stood there a minute holding his hat behind 
 him, then came back to the fireside and the interest- 
 ing invalid "can you keep a secret, Miss er 
 Langton-Brown ?" 
 
 "Cranstoun." 
 
 "My mistake. Forgive it. You look as if you 
 could keep a secret all right, you know." 
 
 "I would keep yours," avowed Phyl, blushing 
 quite becomingly. 
 
 "Well, then h'm Miss Garth is my fiancee, 
 you know." 
 
 Phyllis gave a cry of unquestionably real amaze- 
 ment. "Miss Garth engaged!" she gasped. "She 
 engaged?" 
 
 "Pardon me, but why should the fact excite such 
 surprise in you?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't quite know. But she seems so
 
 Phyllis Explains 207 
 
 very disengaged somehow. I have always thought 
 she meant to marry Cousin George, if she could." 
 
 Clem laughed, very low, but so superciliously tfiat 
 the tone pierced through even Phyllis's obtuseness. 
 "I think not," said he good-humouredly. "Miss 
 Garth is having her fling. When she has lived her 
 own life as long as it amuses her, she will return to 
 her own people be sure of that." 
 
 "Well! I am very much surprised," murmured 
 the girl, quite bewildered. "She has never spoken 
 of you she wears no ring." 
 
 "That is all part of the pose, and it amuses her 
 while it doesn't hurt me," he replied. "She and I 
 understand each other. Well, now, Miss Lang 
 Cranstoun-Brown, will you help me a bit? You 
 were loyal to her wouldn't give away anything till 
 you knew who I was be loyal to me too, and just 
 tell her that her cousin, of the name of Vyner, looked 
 in this morning, but did not wait. Don't tell her I 
 am coming again to-morrow, but, if it lies in your 
 power, arrange so that I may see her when I come. 
 Dare I ask you to do this for me ? Somehow I be- 
 lieve I dare !"
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 CHARIS REJECTED 
 
 THAT rainy, cold morning broke upon a Charis 
 to whom life seemed a terribly tortuous path. 
 
 It was late before her eyes unclosed, for fatigue 
 had insisted upon its way, and in spite of the turmoil 
 of her soul she slept and slept, curled up in the con- 
 volutions of a vast feather bed, with a stone hot- 
 water bottle at her feet. 
 
 With her waking two facts forced themselves pre- 
 eminently upon her mind: the first being that she 
 was, or ought to be, the affianced wife of Gilbert 
 Brown; the second that she .had, without effort, 
 succeeded in eluding Clem and his threatened visit. 
 
 This latter thought induced for a few minutes a 
 mood of profound peace; but, although she had 
 once more disconcerted her pursuer, she knew she 
 could look upon this relief as merely temporary . . . 
 and now everything was complicated by her weak 
 behaviour of the past evening. In the wan light of 
 the overcast skies, and the anxious mood which is 
 frequently the result of trying to think when in a 
 recumbent position, the idea of being Mrs. Brown's 
 daughter-in-law showed itself as monstrous, not to 
 be thought of. Gilbert had known this. How? 
 
 . . . Oh, if she persisted in rushing off into specu- 
 
 208
 
 Chans Rejected 209 
 
 lation as to how Gilbert knew things he ought not 
 to know, she dare not guess where she might find 
 herself in the end. How did he know the exact tone 
 of voice which would shake her the very words 
 which would melt her. . . . Above all, how, she 
 wondered, how, by what inconceivable magic arts, 
 had he learned to kiss with his soul upon his 
 lips? . . . 
 
 There, all alone in that bleak little bedroom, 
 Charis Osbourne felt the tingling blood suffuse her 
 at the memory. 
 
 It must be delusion, she passionately affirmed. 
 That man that suburban product, that steadily- 
 stolidly, jolly bank-holiday clerk, who had gone to 
 the city every day until he went to the war, and as 
 soon as the war was over had returned to his season 
 ticket as the dog returns to his 
 
 How, she asked of the unresponsive heavens, 
 
 could this man's spirit burn with a clear steady flame 
 which, while they were together, lit up all life for 
 her with the light that never was on sea or land? 
 How could his large, roughly-cut mouth unlock for 
 her the gate of such sensations as she had never 
 known, nor thought to know? 
 
 Could all this be for nothing? 
 
 She repeated to herself, as if it were a formula 
 with which he had provided her: "When you were 
 in your sober senses, you had no sort of use for me. 
 You refused me without hesitation. When I am 
 gone you will wonder what possessed you to tie your- 
 self up to a fellow you don't love."
 
 2io The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Do I love him? No, I don't believe I do. It 
 is only that I appreciate, with an appreciation which 
 is almost agony, the quality of his love for me. All 
 my life I shall never be so loved again." 
 
 Had she but someone in whom she could confide ! 
 But there was no one. For she knew that Strachan 
 would say exactly what his cousin had said, only far 
 more strongly. He had been quite certain that she 
 would must reject Gilbert. That she should do 
 otherwise would be a blow to him of what kind she 
 declined to specify to herself; only she knew that he 
 would be utterly unable to find any sort of reason 
 for her action. 
 
 Then there was her father bless him ! She could 
 picture his round-eyed distress; and Bertalda, her 
 father's wife: "Oh, dinky daughter, isn't this out 
 of the frying-pan into the fire? What is the gentle- 
 man? A grocer? Does he wear a white apron in 
 business hours? Surely, dear, poor Clem is of your 
 own tribe, after all." Charis could almost hear the 
 silky, purring voice. And there was her aunt, Lady 
 Orsover, Clem's mother, starving in genteel pov- 
 erty, until Charis's money came to the rescue. What 
 advice was she likely to give, poor soul ? 
 
 But all these, her nearest kin, would have but 
 the one verdict. "Unthinkable !" 
 
 Then why hesitate? 
 
 She need see Gilbert but once again perhaps for 
 a few minutes only, in the presence of others. Then, 
 it would be over. 
 
 . . . And what after? What of the tour, wrecked
 
 Chans Rejected 211 
 
 far more completely than the car? What of her 
 own future, since the masquerade, as Doran had 
 warned her, was wearing very thin? 
 
 She knew Doran well enough, now, to understand 
 that having gathered that she desired no revelations, 
 he would make none. She could rely, both upon him 
 and Morrison, not to tell tales. But she was in their 
 hands; not a nice thought oh, not a bit nice . . . 
 and anything might happen. Suppose, for instance, 
 that Clem encountered Morrison that morning, in 
 the hotel? Then the fat would be in the fire with a 
 vengeance. There would be nothing for her to do 
 but slink home to Bertalda, and her "I told you soj" 
 Home to another onslaught from the Orsover lot, 
 to a bullying which, she resolved afresh, should 
 never end in her marrying Clem. 
 
 "I wouldn't so much mind marrying him if I only 
 disliked him; but I despise him," she thought rue- 
 fully, as she pulled the bell to summon the chamber- 
 maid, her mind further from a settlement than it 
 was when she began. 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and in response 
 to her "Come in!" there appeared, not the chamber- 
 maid she had summoned, but the sweet little face of 
 Sheila Varick, carnation-pink after her run in the 
 car. 
 
 Charis gave a little gulp, the other girl ran for- 
 ward, and they embraced with a heartiness which 
 was a little surprising to both. Then Sheila grasped 
 the arms shrouded in the landlady's coarse linen
 
 312 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 nightgown, and gently shook Charis, with a very 
 wicked expression. 
 
 "Well, my dear, so here you are, and apparently 
 sound in wind and limb! I do trust you have not 
 sown the seeds of a deep decline, as your raging 
 millionaire seems to expect!" 
 
 "What nonsense !" sharply, with crimson face. 
 "I have never been in one minute's danger! How 
 soon did he know where I was? What time did 
 Gil get in?" 
 
 Sheila put her hands over her ears. "No ques- 
 tions ! I am dumb until you come downstairs. Do 
 for goodness' sake hustle into your clothes they are 
 dry, and lying in a pile on your mat! Hasten down 
 to pacify him and don't be alarmed if he should 
 eat you alive, for he is like a raging and a roaring 
 lion!"
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 STRACHAN'S DISPLEASURE 
 
 NEVER in all her life had Charis entered a 
 room with such misgivings, such self-con- 
 sciousness as she felt that morning when she crept 
 downstairs to confront George Strachan. 
 
 He was roaming restlessly to and fro from par- 
 lour to passage, wearing his motor-coat and holding 
 his watch in his hand ready to start for home the 
 moment she should appear. His face was curiously 
 pale, his eyes seemed sunk in his head. They held 
 her gaze as if they would pierce her inmost feeling. 
 She was aware that he was furiously angry, but it 
 was at once apparent that this anger was by no 
 means directed against her. 
 
 After a curious moment he took her hands, his 
 eyes still searching her face apprehensively, as if for 
 traces of over-fatigue or of resentment. 
 
 "My dear, I can't tell you how I feel about this 
 hold-up. I beg to offer my sincerest humblest 
 apologies " 
 
 "Well!" she cried, smiling with an easy gaiety 
 which seemed at once to surprise and to reassure 
 him, "this is funny, you know! I thought it was I 
 who would have to apologise I Why, I did a thing 
 
 213
 
 214 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 yesterday of which anyone used to hill-country ought 
 to be ashamed to the last day of her life ! I am 
 ashamed, and quite ready to own it! But the man 
 at the inn by Thirlmere said other people have done 
 very much the same thing " 
 
 "The responsibility does not lie with you, my 
 dear, but belongs to that blundering ass, my cousin, 
 Gilbert Brown. However, thank God you seem 
 none the worse, so come along we'll get you back 
 safely, give you a glass of champagne, put you to 
 bed, and then " 
 
 "And then, I should think, pack me in a box with 
 cotton-wool and dispatch me back to London labelled 
 'Useless' ! Really, Mr. Strachan, except that I'm 
 afraid you were anxious, I haven't a regret. I en- 
 joyed the whole of it, even the walk to Threlkeld in 
 the wind and rain ! But for our bad luck in striking 
 a day when there were no horses to be had, our 
 adventure would have been nothing at all ; we should 
 have got home by about eleven ! Poor Mr. Brown 
 had the worst of it on that bicycle. I hope he isn't 
 feeling very done up " 
 
 "He hasn't got a tenth of what he deserved," was 
 the harsh comment, as Strachan shepherded her and 
 Mrs. Varick into the car. 
 
 "How good of you both to come," went on 
 Charis, rallying him. "Did you expect to find me 
 raving in brain-fever? It is a relief that you don't 
 seem to look upon me as a nuisance for you really 
 might 1 A secretary should never, never behave as 
 I have done ! But do me the justice to remember,
 
 Strachan's Displeasure 215 
 
 Mr. Strachan, that I begged and prayed to be al- 
 lowed to stay behind yesterday." 
 
 "Yes, and it would have been better had you done 
 so. I see that now. But I gave Gilbert credit for 
 more discretion. I warn you that my faith in your 
 judgment has had a nasty knock. You told me he 
 was trustworthy. What should I do with that fel- 
 low in my business? clumsy, self-seeking, wrong- 
 headed " 
 
 "Take care," broke in the girl; and she was sur- 
 prised at the anger which suddenly shook hef. 
 "Don't say such things. Mr. Brown was the best 
 
 of companions. I am very glad he was with 
 
 > 
 
 "Thank you, my dear, but you need not trouble 
 to say things like that to me," was the reply, in tones 
 of such concentrated bitterness that she flushed 
 brightly, and, turning to the much-puzzled Sheila, 
 changed the subject abruptly. 
 
 It was past midday, and they paused on their 
 homeward journey when they reached Dockray, and 
 had lunch at the comfortable little hotel, where one 
 is waited on by such charming girls. 
 
 When they reached Ullswater, half an hour later, 
 most of the hotel guests seemed to be in the lounge 
 to acclaim their arrival, and to be assured that Miss 
 Garth was none the worse for her exploit. 
 
 Strachan, however, would not allow her to linger 
 a moment. It seemed that there was something on 
 his mind which he must utter at once. He took her 
 arm and piloted her through the crowd to the sit-
 
 2i6 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 ting-room, which he had reserved throughout their 
 stay for the use of his party. 
 
 If he expected to find it empty he was disap- 
 pointed, for the others were all there, the men lean- 
 ing over the table, poring above a large-scale map 
 upon which Gilbert was showing them the track of 
 his wanderings. 
 
 Xhere was a chorus of welcome as they entered, 
 and a good deal of chaff from Doran and Vee. 
 Phyllis, sitting by the fire, smiled at the thought of 
 the bomb she had in her hand, ready to throw. For 
 this there was at present no chance, for the buzz of 
 talk was incessant. Charis herself said little, how- 
 ever; she was standing in a kind of stupor of irreso- 
 lution, her eyes upon Gilbert, who, after a grave 
 greeting, had given no sign and would not look at 
 her. 
 
 He was holding fast to their agreement, deter- 
 mined to show that there was nothing between them. 
 She gazed upon him in a pathetic bewilderment, 
 searching his heavy face for some sign of what he 
 was feeling, trying to realise that this almost loutish 
 young man was the only one in her life so far who 
 had shown her what passion meant. 
 
 Those moments at the inn had so wrought upon 
 her that she experienced a disturbance in all her 
 being, the result of merely being in the same room 
 with him. Because he was there, she could not feel 
 detached, nor completely mistress of herself, but 
 was conscious of an urge, a compelling impulse, as
 
 Strachan's Displeasure 217 
 
 though there were some definitely magnetic quality 
 in his heavy quietude. 
 
 She was forced to shake it off, for she was called 
 upon to give a detailed account of their proceedings. 
 
 "We can't get a word out of Gil," she was told, 
 "we want to know how you came to let us pass out 
 of your sight." 
 
 "I really don't know, except that we were so in- 
 terested in what we were talking about," she avowed, 
 "and " 
 
 "What were you talking about?" asked Vee at 
 once. 
 
 "I don't quite remember, but I think it was Berg- 
 son wasn't it Bergson, Mr. Brown?" 
 
 "A sufficiently nebulous subject," dryly com- 
 mented Doran, "to create a mist all around you, even 
 had there not been one already." 
 
 "Bergson! What do you know about him, Gil?" 
 asked Vee contemptuously. 
 
 "More than I did yesterday," returned her 
 brother with provoking calm. 
 
 "It was entirely the fault of you others, and not 
 ours at all; in fact, we are graciously prepared to 
 receive an unqualified apology," said Chans, swiftly 
 carrying the war into the enemy's country. "We 
 called loudly enough, and begged of you not to move 
 until we had rejoined you. We could hardly hear 
 what you said in reply, and you at once hurried off, 
 quite out of earshot." 
 
 As she foresaw, this highly provocative statement 
 produced instant argument, denial and recrimina-
 
 218 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 tion. The party averred that they could hear Gil- 
 bert quite clearly, that they thought he was making 
 a fuss about nothing, but that they had bidden him 
 come on, and they were prepared to maintain that 
 he had replied "Right you are I" The reasons why 
 Morrison and the rest could hear clearly, while the 
 lost ones could hardly hear at all, were debated with 
 animation. 
 
 This gave time to Charis to collect herself a little, 
 and ask herself what she intended to do. Gilbert 
 evidently meant to leave it entirely to her. She was 
 free to say what she liked. It was Strachan who was 
 flying the danger signals, and his demeanour sur- 
 prised her considerably. He was enraged against 
 Gilbert to the point of declining to hear a word in 
 his defence, and this seemed excessive. With the 
 exception of the scene at the inn, of which Strachan 
 was ignorant, it was difficult to see what fault could 
 be found with the young man's behaviour. 
 
 For the first time she asked herself whether it 
 was possible that Gilbert's innuendo of the previous 
 day might be true that Strachan was seriously his 
 rival. Jealousy, real raging jealousy seemed the 
 only thing to account for the fury of the gentle 
 George. 
 
 The thought was to her almost ridiculous. That 
 she, Charis Osbourne, should have resisted without 
 effort more than one suitable applicant (as Miss 
 Austen might call them) only to succumb now, either 
 to a Canadian lumber merchant or his extremely 
 bourgeois cousin !
 
 Strachan's Displeasure 219 
 
 Yet she knew that never had she liked a man as 
 well as she liked Strachan, and never come half so 
 near to loving one as she had come to loving Gilbert 
 Brown I 
 
 Involuntarily she put her hands upon the arms of 
 her chair as though she felt herself slipping into an 
 abyss. What could she do? Go back to Ringland, 
 and take up life as she had known it before her ex- 
 cursion into the ranks of the workers? Oh, never, 
 never! With the revulsion of distaste came the 
 thought of Clem. Had he called that morning, and 
 how had he taken the rebuff of her absence? 
 
 Phyllis, seated at her ease opposite her, smiled 
 maliciously as she watched the evident uneasiness of 
 mind. 
 
 Since the departure of the mysterious visitor, Miss 
 Brown had not been idle. 
 
 He had left her in a whirl of excited fancy. Never 
 had she seen a young man so exactly suggesting the 
 ideal hero of a novel. The thought of his being 
 engaged to her cousin's secretary the designing 
 minx who was setting her cap at Gilbert, as no one 
 but herself seemed to have the sense to perceive 
 filled her not only with envy, but with genuine in- 
 credulity. It was not possible, she told herself. 
 
 After cogitation she had dragged herself from 
 her basking, out into the lounge, upon the off-chance 
 of extracting some information from the porter. 
 Her success was staggering, even to herself. Did 
 he know, she inquired, the name of the gentleman 
 who had called upon Miss Garth?
 
 22O The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "I didn't, miss; I'm new here this season. But 
 Mr. Ball, he tells me it was Lord Clement Vyner." 
 
 "Lord Clement Fyner?" 
 
 "Yes, miss. He came in one of the Ringland 
 cars. He's his lordship's nephew. Mr. Ball was 
 telling me his lordship's sister married Lord 
 Orsover. Lord Clement's her second son, miss 
 brother to the present marquis." 
 
 Brother to a marquis . . . and engaged to a 
 typewriting girl ! It would hardly be an exaggera- 
 tion to say that Phyllis tottered back to her fireside. 
 Here indeed was food for scandal, for upon the face 
 of it such an engagement was obviously impossible. 
 Some relationship evidently existed between the two 
 but not a fair and square, above-board betrothal. 
 
 Her novel-fed imagination caught at the idea of 
 a liaison such as she felt sure must be the true state 
 of the case. The young nobleman, the too attractive 
 business girl! It was easy to piece out the story. 
 There had been a quarrel. She had run away. His 
 errand to-day was probably to coax her to return. 
 Certainly he had seemed quite annoyed at the idea 
 of her being in Cousin George's employ. Phyllis 
 was too well read for the situation to seem to her 
 in the least unlikely, though, as far as her own ex- 
 perience of life went, she had to own that she had 
 never come across any such arrangement; neverthe- 
 less she firmly believed it to be quite common in 
 what she vaguely termed society. 
 
 . . . And this was the girl who had managed to 
 suppress her past and had obtained a post among
 
 Strachan's Displeasure 221 
 
 what Phyllis indignantly described to herself as "re- 
 spectable people." She would now have no scruple 
 in unmasking Miss Garth. She deserved anything 
 that might be the result deserved to be packed off 
 without a character. That such a course might fling 
 her back upon the protection of the man with whom 
 Phyllis supposed her to have guilty relations never 
 crossed her vindictive mind. That she herself owed 
 it to the girl seated opposite that her own dishonest 
 transaction had been successfully kept from her 
 mother's ears was nothing to her in that moment. 
 Her whole being was filled to bursting with the 
 notion that she could now counter Charis's machina- 
 tions where Strachan was concerned. 
 
 It was her plain duty to let him know upon what 
 kind of person he was lavishing his confidence and 
 his kindness.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 CHARIS CUTS THE KNOT 
 
 CHARTS, deeply sunk in cogitation, lifted her 
 eyes with the sudden consciousness one some- 
 times has of being minutely studied, and found 
 Phyllis's small hard eyes fixed unwinkingly upon 
 her. She had a moment's dread. Those eyes 
 seemed to her like the eyes of the snake "Move 
 and I strike; keep still and I choose my moment." 
 
 What was the import of that look? What threat 
 did it hold over her? . . . Had Phyllis seen Clem? 
 Had she found out all about the masquerade? 
 
 For some long seconds Miss Brown kept her on 
 the rack, until a sudden lull in the conversation gave 
 her the chance she sought. 
 
 "It was a pity you chanced to be away this morn- 
 ing, Miss Garth," said she distinctly. "Your fiance 
 called to see you." 
 
 Charis sprang to her feet. She said exactly what 
 Phyllis had expected. "My fiance ! But I have no 
 fiance that is I had not. . . . What do you 
 mean?" 
 
 Her confusion was plain and acute. Phyllis 
 smiled. 
 
 "A gentleman called here this morning to see you. 
 
 222
 
 Chans Cuts the Knot 223 
 
 In your absence he asked to see me. He would not 
 give his name. He said he was engaged to you. 
 Surely he wouldn't have said so if it isn't true?" 
 
 Charis's glance swept past the fixed and immo- 
 bile attention of Strachan to the face of Gilbert, 
 watching her with an intensity of suspense in which 
 he hardly seemed to breathe. In contrast to the 
 demeanour of these two she felt the other units of 
 the audience to be merely negligible. To justify 
 herself in Gilbert's eyes was, frankly, the one thing 
 needful. 
 
 "The gentleman who would not give his name was 
 completely mistaken," said she steadily. "You will 
 understand that I cannot be engaged to him when I 
 tell you that I promised yesterday to marry Mr. 
 Brown." As she spoke she gave a swift little smile, 
 a slight motion of the hand. It brought Gilbert 
 stalking across the room to her side. 
 
 "That is so," was his brief contribution to the 
 situation. 
 
 Strachan, who had been seated, rose from his 
 chair with a bound, his eyes ablaze. "No, by the 
 Lord," he muttered under his breath. "Not so bad 
 as that never that!" And after checking himself 
 with a desperate effort of self-control as his eyes 
 swept the ring of faces, he added, "Such an arrange- 
 ment can never have my approval." 
 
 Phyllis's heart leapt up joyfully. After all, as her 
 mother had once profoundly remarked, blood is 
 thicker than water. Strachan was not so blinded by 
 the wiles of this little adventuress as to be callous*
 
 224 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 when she proposed to become a member of the 
 family. 
 
 "Oh, Cousin George!" cried Phyl, "I knew you 
 would help. You will do something to prevent this. 
 Think of how distressed poor Mamma would be 
 her only son . . ." 
 
 The two men, Doran and Morrison, were so petri- 
 fied with astonishment that they simply had no 
 words. One looked at the other in stupid amaze- 
 ment. Lord Ringland's heiress and Gilbert Brown ! 
 That was to them fully as much out of the question 
 as Lord Clement and the secretary had seemed to 
 Phyllis. 
 
 Only Vee's voice was heard, and she cried stoutly, 
 "Rot, Phyl! If they want to get married why 
 shouldn't they? My dears, I for one congratulate 
 you!" 
 
 Sheila Varick would have added her voice to this, 
 but she was too occupied with the aspect of George 
 Strachan to have any eyes for the audacious pair. 
 From crimson he had turned to a dull grey, and was 
 evidently labouring under so strong an access of 
 feeling that she wondered if he were going to fall 
 down in a fit. However, in a minute or two he had 
 forced back his excitement and could speak, though 
 slowly. 
 
 "I dislike to be inconsiderate . . . but I am going 
 to ask all of you except Gilbert and Miss Garth to 
 go out of the room. I will have nothing more said, 
 nothing discussed, until I have obtained the full in- 
 formation which I think I may say is my due."
 
 Chans Cuts the Knot 225 
 
 "It is your due," said Gilbert in a perfectly com- 
 posed voice, "and I know I speak for Miss Garth 
 also. The others will go and smoke in the lounge." 
 
 As he spoke he opened the door, and after a 
 moment's surprise the others obediently went out, 
 headed by Sheila Varick, and Phyllis last of all. As 
 she went she turned to her cousin. 
 
 "George, dear, let me stay surely I ought to 
 know " 
 
 "Go, if you please, and quickly," was all the reply 
 he had for her. She cast a look of deep malignity 
 at Charis as she went. 
 
 The three were left confronting each other near 
 the fire. 
 
 Gilbert had not so much as touched Miss Garth's 
 hand. He merely stood there, his big frame tense, 
 his face wearing the look of one who has at last 
 completely made up his mind and intends to act 
 upon such decision. 
 
 The unexpected strength he displayed only served 
 to accentuate Strachan's displeasure. No sooner had 
 the door closed, and the young man returned to his 
 position at the side of his betrothed, when his cousin, 
 advancing a step towards him with clenched fists, 
 said heavily: 
 
 "You hound!" 
 
 This was too much for Charis. "Mr. Strachan," 
 said she gravely, "I think you are overwrought. I 
 know that you had a bad time on our account last 
 night. Had you not better go and rest for a few 
 hours before discussing this?"
 
 226 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "No. We will dispose of it now " 
 
 "Please forgive my interrupting, but is it for you 
 to dispose, as you call it, of Gilbert and me? Don't 
 think me ungrateful, but indeed this is a matter in 
 which I must be allowed to judge for myself." 
 
 "Just so. That's what I mean. You have not 
 been allowed to judge for yourself. You have been 
 driven and bullied into this bondage by an un- 
 scrupulous young ruffian who led you away from the 
 others in order to have you to himself for hours so 
 that he could work upon your feelings ... al- 
 though he knew exactly how you felt, because you 
 had already given him his answer. Isn't that so?" 
 
 She was ready with an indignant denial, but Gil* 
 bert forestalled her. "After all," he said, "I think 
 the person who should speak first is I." He turned 
 then to Charis with a restraint and deference which 
 impressed her afresh. "Have I your leave to 
 speak?" he inquired. 
 
 Afraid to trust her voice, for her throat swelled 
 suddenly, she nodded, and let herself sink into a 
 chair, leaning her chin on her hand. 
 
 Gilbert faced his cousin squarely. "George, all 
 that you have just said of me is true, with one im- 
 portant exception. I did not manoeuvre to be left 
 alone with Miss Garth. I knew she would not have 
 wished it, and I am not sure that I even wished it 
 myself. The thought uppermost in my mind all day 
 was that she should feel no awkwardness from hav- 
 ing turned me down just before. Our being isolated 
 was sheer accident. In justice to me I must ask you
 
 Chans Cuts the Knot 227 
 
 to believe that. It is the only thing I can urge in 
 my own favour. When the danger was over, and 
 we found ourselves together in an inn parlour, await- 
 ing our food, I did take unfair advantage of oppor- 
 tunity, just as you reproached me with having done. 
 I" for the first time he faltered, and a few words 
 came thickly as he was shaken with memories "I 
 extorted a promise from her, and afterwards, when 
 my head cleared, I knew I was precisely what you 
 have called me a hound. I apologised at once, 
 saying I knew I had behaved disgracefully. I said I 
 would on no account hold her to that word. After 
 some argument we left it in this way. We were not 
 engaged, but if, having slept upon it and further 
 considered it, she she should feel that she could 
 . . . well, then, it would be for her to say so ... 
 and . . . she has said so." 
 
 "Yes," assented Charis, as though she spoke 
 mechanically, "I have said so." 
 
 Strachan stood looking down upon her. His face 
 was working with many different emotions. Then 
 he said harshly to Gilbert: 
 
 "You have done what I can never forgive. You 
 have, as I consider, betrayed a trust. I do not wish 
 to have such a man in my business, nor to have any- 
 thing more to do with you. Now, do you still intend 
 to hold her to what she has said?" 
 
 "I never intended to hold her to it," replied Gil- 
 bert gently. "But what you say is, of course, con- 
 clusive. If you mean that you withdraw the chance, 
 the business opening you were giving me, my pros-
 
 228 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 pe*cts are simply nil. An engagement with no hope 
 of marriage is a strain I would not inflict on any 
 woman, least of all the woman I worship. Charis 
 is perfectly free." 
 
 Still she did not look up nor change her pose, 
 and as if to sting her into showing her face Strachan 
 demanded acidly: 
 
 "Is it true that you are, or have been, engaged 
 to another man?" 
 
 She replied to that without looking up. "Yes, 
 it is," she replied. "If you were to say that I was 
 bullied into that you would be speaking the literal 
 truth. He is my first cousin, and I never cared for 
 him in that way. I broke it off about eight months 
 ago, and he does nothing but pester me. I went 
 away disappeared in order to be out of his reach. 
 Until quite lately I let my father know always where 
 I was. But then I found he told my stepmother, 
 and she told Clement, so I told them they must write 
 to me through my bank. I was determined to put 
 an end to the persecution. I I Mr. Strachan" 
 lifting her tearful face and her beseeching hands 
 "I simply won't marry him," she said sobbingly. 
 
 Strachan took the hands, and his voice softened 
 in spite of himself. "Well, well, who said you need? 
 Are he and this great oaf the only men in the world? 
 Come, let us have an end of this deplorable episode. 
 I'm in a position to keep you safe from any young 
 cad who tries to foist himself upon you against your 
 wish. We'll go out of England if you like we'll go 
 to-morrow what is to prevent us? Why couldn't
 
 Charis Cuts the Knot 
 
 you have been a bit more explicit? We need not 
 have come so near the danger zone." 
 
 She withdrew her hands in order to wipe her eyes. 
 "I thought we should just be passing through and 
 not stopping hereabouts," she explained. "It was 
 the accident on the Pass which gave me away. There 
 was a passenger on the coach who knew me by sight. 
 But it was detestable of my cousin to force himself 
 upon me after the letters I have written to him." 
 She felt in her coat pocket and produced the tele- 
 graphic form. "See! I wrote that yesterday, for- 
 bidding him to come, but we had to start in a hurry, 
 and I got no chance to dispatch it." 
 
 Strachan glanced at the message, which was ad- 
 dressed quite simply to "Vyner, Ringland." Ring- 
 land is a hamlet as well as a castle, and the words 
 gave him no clue. 
 
 "Well," he said soothingly, "I think you are abun- 
 dantly justified in keeping out of the way of this 
 young scoundrel, but you need not take such a des- 
 perate course as to engage yourself to another man 
 simply because he has badgered you into it. There 
 is no occasion to make up our minds at this moment 
 where we will go France, Switzerland, Scandinavia 
 you have only to say the word. But to-day, imme- 
 diately, we will be off from here, and will go to Mrs. 
 Nicholson's at Fratton Beck. Those for whom she 
 has no room must return home. I can arrange that 
 quite simply. So now, my dear, your way is clear, 
 I think. Gilbert has very properly given you your
 
 230 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 liberty take it. Tell him you made a mistake, and 
 that will be the end." 
 
 Charis lifted her wet lashes and somewhat des- 
 perately searched Gilbert's face. There was no ap- 
 peal in it. His jaw was grim, and the line between 
 his lips tight. She knew that he was prepared to 
 suffer anything rather than plead for himself; but 
 well she also knew the passion that rent the depths 
 of him ; and he could not quite control his eyes. A 
 captive soul, almost despairing, transmitted some 
 message to her, whether he would or no. 
 
 She drew a long breath, and knew with a shock 
 that the moment for full confession had come. 
 
 "Please will you both sit down? I am going to 
 tell you something. It's it's something that I am 
 heartily ashamed of." Her voice sank very low. "I 
 ought to have told you of it, Mr. Strachan, before 
 coming into your employ, but I doubt if you would 
 have taken me if I had. . . . And I ought not to 
 have allowed Gilbert to make love to me until until 
 he knew who I am." 
 
 The final words were almost whispered. It was 
 not to be wondered at that both the men who listened 
 imagined something far removed from the truth. 
 Gilbert broke in abruptly. 
 
 "Nothing would have made any difference as far 
 as I am concerned. If you confessed that you are 
 a German spy or or a divorced wife, nothing 
 matters. Don't speak at all if you feel the least 
 reluctance." 
 
 Light broke over her expressive little face. The
 
 Charis Cuts the Knot 231 
 
 misery of perplexity gave way to a beam of pure joy. 
 "Gilbert," she murmured, "you are very splendid." 
 For a moment Strachan was forgotten. The two 
 gazed upon one another, oblivious of time, of place, 
 of all but their two selves ; when she spoke what she 
 said was : 
 
 "But the truth is something you may find it harder 
 to forgive than either of those two things." 
 
 Strachan's hand clenched suddenly. There floated 
 into his mind the trifling incident of the visit of a 
 lordling of some sort to the Trenby Hostel. He 
 recalled the way she had displayed agitation. A 
 young lord, and a far too attractive typewriting girl ! 
 Into his perturbed mind there floated for a moment 
 the horrible suspicion which had occurred to Phyllis. 
 Violently he rejected it. Something in Charis en- 
 abled him to know that it could not be true. Yet it 
 shook him. 
 
 . . . And then he heard the girlish voice, with a 
 new note in it, a tremulous, calling note he had never 
 heard before. 
 
 "Gilbert! I want your hand to hold!" 
 
 Gilbert slipped from his chair to his knees upon 
 the rug beside her. He took her hand between both 
 his own. To Strachan the sight was almost intoler- 
 able. But he put strong constraint upon himself and 
 remained calm. 
 
 "Now I am not quite so frightened," said Charis, 
 smiling wanly. "But still I feel very nervous. To 
 begin with, you the man I have promised to marry 
 don't even know my name ! I have been passing
 
 232 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 all this time under an assumed one . . . and it is 
 my real name which I am afraid to tell you afraid 
 
 it will vex you, for I " 
 
 So far she had proceeded when a very emphatic 
 knocking at the door broke in upon her difficult 
 words.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 EXIT MISS GARTH 
 
 UPON Strachan's summons to enter, the door 
 opened halfway, and the face of Sheila Varick 
 was seen. Its expression showed that her errand 
 was urgent. She came quite in, closing the door 
 behind her, before she said: 
 
 "Forgive me, but Miss Garth is wanted at once. 
 Her father has called to fetch her, and he says I 
 am to let her know that it is a matter of life and 
 death." 
 
 Charis leapt to her feet. Her half terrified, half 
 mischievous sense of the probable effect of the 
 revelation she was about to make was merged in 
 the shock of these words. She turned white as she 
 faced the messenger. 
 
 "Dad!" she breathed. "Dad has come to fetch 
 me ! Oh, it must be awfullyserious 1" For a mo- 
 ment she seemed stupefied, and her hand went out 
 towards Gilbert. 
 
 "But perhaps he could wait five minutes. I'll go 
 and find out exactly what it is he wants." 
 
 "He wants you, my dear. He has come to fetch 
 you home at once this instant," said Sheila gravely. 
 "He is waiting at the door with the car; he would 
 not even come inside the hotel lest he might be 
 
 233
 
 234 The Judgment of Chads 
 
 delayed. He asked me to tell you not to wait even 
 to fetch anything from your room to come just as 
 you are." 
 
 Charis was still wearing her hat. Gilbert picked 
 up her coat and put it on her. He also had turned 
 very pale, but he said nothing. She cried brokenly : 
 
 "Oh, this is dreadful! I can't think! I am all 
 in a maze! Gilbert, if something awful has hap- 
 pened, I can't I simply can't tell him about us now, 
 can I? You won't think me a coward? You will 
 wait here? Ah, you will" turning with vehemence 
 to Strachan "you will please, please await news 
 from me here ! I will either send for you or write 
 or or perhaps come back. Your letters Gilbert 
 will do those for you." 
 
 "Miss Garth, I think you must leave Mr. Strach- 
 an's letters to take care of themselves," softly said 
 Mrs. Varick, clasping the girl's hand. "Be advised, 
 and come this moment." 
 
 Charis seemed still to hesitate, but Gilbert took 
 command. He laid his hand upon her arm above 
 the elbow, gently propelling her towards the door 
 where Sheila stood watching them, her face full of 
 compassion. As Charis passed the glowering 
 Strachan she paused, flung up her arms round his 
 unbending neck, and kissed him without a word. 
 Then she let her lover lead her from the room. 
 
 As they passed through the lounge Doran and 
 Morrison respectfully shook hands and Vee kissed 
 her. Phyllis had subsided, with the shock of the 
 news she had just heard, upon a distant settee, and
 
 Exit Miss Garth 235 
 
 could not even rally sufficiently to make any kind of 
 obeisance to the rising sun. 
 
 Just outside the door stood a big grey and purple 
 car with two menservants in grey liveries with purple 
 facings. Before it, strolling impatiently to and fro 
 upon the gravel, was a man of about Strachan's age, 
 with a well-cut, humorous face, whose expression at 
 the moment was that of profound melancholy. As 
 he saw his daughter approach he turned, and the 
 two faced each other for a moment without a word. 
 Then Charis descended the two steps which divided 
 them, stood a-tiptoe, and kissed his lordship meekly. 
 
 "I'm not ready, Dad, but I'm here," said she in 
 a crushed voice. "Please let me present you to Mr. 
 Strachan and Mr. Brown." 
 
 Lord Ringland raised his hat with a disarming 
 and courteous gesture. "Both these gentlemen will 
 pardon me," said he, comprehending both in the 
 salute, "when they know that my wife may be dead 
 before we arrive at home. My daughter and I will 
 take care to forward all proper acknowledgments 
 at the first opportunity," he added, addressing 
 Strachan. "Come, my dear girl " 
 
 In a moment, as it seemed, Charis's slight form 
 had disappeared into the grey interior of the car, 
 her father had followed, the chauffeur had touched 
 some magic lever, and the whole equipage vanished 
 along the level road to Pooley Bridge, leaving be- 
 hind them an empty-seeming silence. 
 
 After watching them quite out of sight, Strachan 
 turned and re-entered the hotel. He passed slowly
 
 236 The Judgment of Chans 
 
 through the lounge, and as he went there was that 
 in his face which prevented anyone from addressing 
 him. There was a murmur of excitement passing 
 to and fro, and after his disappearance the talk was 
 lively. 
 
 ". . . Never understood that the young lady in 
 Mr. Strachan's party was Miss Osbourne . . . 
 thought they called her Bath or Garth . . . the 
 celebrated Miss Osbourne . . . declined to marry 
 her cousin, didn't she? . . . Yes, you know, some- 
 thing queer about the entail has to go to any male 
 descendant if there is one to a daughter only on 
 failure of all males and Lord Clement is heir-at- 
 law, his elder brother, the marquis, waiving his 
 claim. . . . Didn't get on with her stepmother 
 . . . rather eccentric girl . . . went off to study 
 life at first hand . . . not a bad tip if you have 
 Ringland Castle to fall back upon if things go wrong 
 ... it seems her ladyship is ill ... wonder what's 
 the matter?" 
 
 The millionaire stalked on, above the groups of 
 tattlers, along the corridor to his own bedroom. He 
 had something of the feeling of one who has been 
 soundly, delightfully asleep in a train and awakens 
 to find that he has been carried on past his station. 
 The whole unsubstantiality of his relations with his 
 late secretary was borne in upon him with hateful 
 suddenness. 
 
 In these few weeks he had grown to be com- 
 pletely wrapped up in her. He had not looked be-
 
 Exit Miss Garth 237 
 
 yond the present moment. She was his delight, his 
 pastime, his interest, his object in life. 
 
 Yes, alas! his object in life. And now, in one 
 second of time, she had been taken away, and he 
 foresaw that return was impossible. 
 
 All this time she had been playing with him. She 
 had made an excursion -out of her own milieu. It 
 was just a freak, a whim. But how finely, how thor- 
 oughly carried out ! He had never employed a girl 
 who worked with anything like the conscientious 
 intelligence, the diligent application of Charis. 
 
 In his ignorance he had believed himself a bene- 
 factor. Insensibly to himself he had begun to as- 
 sume paternal authority over her. He had played 
 with schemes of adopting her legally and ensuring 
 to her a portion of his great wealth. 
 
 Now, one after the other, she had dealt him two 
 shattering blows. First, she had shown him how 
 utterly independent of him was her heart and her 
 desire, and then her very physical presence was 
 snatched from him. 
 
 . . . And now, what could come of this latest 
 entanglement? .What of Gilbert Brown's fatuous 
 thrusting of himself into the situation? 
 
 When he thought of the view her father would 
 probably *take of -the whole matter he ground his 
 teeth. It would be hard for his lordship to believe 
 that young Brown had really been ignorant of his 
 daughter's identity. His wrath against the young 
 man blazed anew, forming a kind of outlet for his 
 miserable sense of desolation and injury.
 
 238 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Gaining his room he turned the key upon him- 
 self, found a match and kindled the fire which was 
 ready laid. Then he sat down beside it and gazed 
 drearily from his window out upon the leaden lake 
 and the cold, creeping clouds which sulked upon 
 the heights, belying the fair name of June. 
 
 He could not even smoke, so smitten was he with 
 a sense of utter futility. 
 
 Through the formless future his mind began pres- 
 ently to grope, for he must decide what to do next. 
 He thought he would wait at the hotel until to- 
 morrow, when he might himself go in his car to 
 make inquiries at the castle for her ladyship. Then 
 he would take his two nieces and carry them to 
 Fratton Beck to pay the promised visit to their Aunt 
 Nicholson. Doran could continue his tour with his 
 sister and Morrison in their own car, and Gilbert 
 might go to the devil. 
 
 Gilbert! How dared he? In what way could 
 the sacrilegious idea have entered his thick head? 
 A cat may look at a king, but a Gilbert Brown may 
 not aspire to a woman like Charis. For a moment 
 he found it a consoling thought that he, Strachan, 
 had been able from the first to perceive the out- 
 standing quality of the girl he had befriended in 
 such odd circumstances. 
 
 Lost to him for ever! He wrung his hands in 
 the pain of the thought. He was indeed a Jonah, 
 doomed to lose everything on which he set his 
 heart. As once he had said to Sheila, he had the 
 money and that was all.
 
 Exit Miss Garth 239 
 
 Sheila Varick! At the thought of her the one 
 ray of comfort entered his mind. He had seen 
 her eyes as she came to take his ewe lamb from 
 him, and they were full of comprehension and of 
 pity. She, like him, had given her heart and been 
 bereft. She stood in a different category from these 
 other young creatures with the world before them. 
 
 Someone knocked at his door, then tried it. 
 
 "Who's there?" he growled. 
 
 "I am Gilbert, and I hope you will let me in. 
 I want to say something of importance." 
 
 "Go to the " began Strachan before he could 
 
 control himself, and the reply came promptly : 
 
 "Yes, I am going there as fast as you could de- 
 sire. I want you to help me." 
 
 Strachan stared, angry enough, but perhaps a 
 little amazed at the effrontery of the man he had 
 taken for a clown. Then he realised that in his pres- 
 ent mood it would be a relief to tell Gilbert exactly 
 what he thought of him. He rose, after two or 
 three denials, and admitted him. 
 
 Gil came in with that same new air of poise and 
 assurance which had descended upon him when 
 Charis publicly announced their engagement. 
 
 "Sorry to be a nuisance," said he quietly, "but I 
 want to try and make you see that there is really 
 no need for you and me to be at cross purposes." 
 
 "You must know, without my repeating it," broke 
 in Strachan sourly, "that you have settled yourself 
 finally where I am concerned. I wish to have noth- 
 ing more to do with you."
 
 240 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 The contemptuous words brought a dull colour 
 to the set face, but the young man answered tem- 
 perately. "I don't admit the justice of your con- 
 demnation of me," he said unemotionally, "but I 
 am not going to try and vindicate myself, if that is 
 what you are afraid of. What I am here to ask 
 is that you should help me to deal with the entirely 
 new position created by our knowledge of Miss 
 Garth's true identity. Naturally, all idea of a mar- 
 riage between us is now out of the question. I should 
 not even wish it. To be looked down upon by my 
 wife's family would be to me detestable. ... By 
 the by, did you know that both Doran and Morri- 
 son have for some time known who she is?" 
 
 Strachan was struck by this. "Is that so? Why 
 did they give no hint?" 
 
 "I wonder that you should ask that. If she chose 
 to be incognita, was it for them to give her away? 
 Her secret was her own business." 
 
 Strachan glanced at his cousin with something 
 like respect. Gilbert's attitude impressed him, angry 
 though he was. 
 
 "That's so, certainly," he replied reflectively. "It 
 was your sister who went back on her." 
 
 Gilbert merely shrugged his shoulders. He would 
 not voice his opinion of Phyllis's mentality. 
 
 "Well, what of it all?" demanded Strachan 
 wearily after a pause. 
 
 "She always told me there were obstacles ob- 
 stacles which I could not see and she could not 
 explain," went on Gilbert. "You heard her say just
 
 Exit Miss Garth 241 
 
 now that I might find the truth harder to forgive 
 than if I discovered anything against her character. 
 There she was quite right. I do. I have to own 
 that. I resent the part that she has played. I re- 
 sent her coming into our family, sitting in the worst 
 place at table, listening to my poor mother spread- 
 ing herself about the best society in Streatwood, 
 laughing in her sleeve at all of us. ... But that's 
 not the point. We have to face the fact that to- 
 day, in her splendid generosity, she gave out, in 
 the hearing of the whole party, that she was en- 
 gaged to me. I wonder if you see what I mean? 
 As far as I am concerned, the whole situation is 
 changed, because I now know what I did not know 
 before. But from her point of view nothing is 
 changed, because when she said we were engaged 
 she knew herself to be Lord Ringland's daughter 
 as well .as she knows it now. It follows that she 
 will think she ought to hold to her word." 
 
 He paused. Strachan turned it over in his mind. 
 "Well, what then?" he said at last. 
 
 "It is obvious that I cannot jilt her. It lies with 
 her and not with me to break off an engagement she 
 has herself announced. Surely it will occur to you 
 that it would be much easier for her to do so if I 
 were to clear off out of her way?" 
 
 Strachan's attention was caught. 
 
 "For me to hang about here must embarrass her 
 cruelly. I know well enough, better than you can 
 tell me, 'that I never ought to have let her know 
 what I felt. But do me the justice to remember that
 
 242 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 I thought I was in love with a girl with no home and 
 no money. You may never have known what it is 
 to love all at once with a force that drives you on 
 as if you were a straw; if you have, you ought to 
 admit that what I have done was more a blunder 
 than a crime, and a blunder that has wrecked me 
 once for all." 
 
 "I'm sorry for you," his cousin conceded rather 
 grudgingly. "But what do you want me to do?" 
 
 "I want you to take back what you said to me 
 this morning about withdrawing the offer you had 
 made me. I want you to send me to Canada, as 
 you promised. George, for God's sake, help me ! 
 If I can get away right away it may just save 
 me from going mad, and at the same time it will 
 relieve her of the consequences of her mistake. She 
 knew it was my intention to go, and she knew it was 
 urgent for me to go at once. She won't think I 
 am bolting, and and she will have time to reflect 
 what a foolish girl she has been . . . and then, of 
 course, she will forget. For she doesn't love me 
 how should she? She was only moved by the 
 depth of my love for her. ... I tell you," he cried 
 with sudden vehemence, "if I thought otherwise, if 
 I knew she loved me, her grand relations and your 
 money might go to the devil, and I would stand by 
 her and take her and support her somehow I . . . 
 But she doesn't love me really. . . . And so after 
 a bit she'll be grateful to me for shall we say 
 spreading my one cloak in the dirt so that she may
 
 Exit Miss Garth 243 
 
 walk dry-shod over the little muddy place in her 
 clean life?" 
 
 As he listened to this appeal Strachan knew that 
 he was unexpectedly moved. As his cousin spoke 
 there even came to him a glimpse of perception as to 
 what moved Charis to consent to this man's wooing. 
 
 When the deep, reluctant voice faltered into 
 silence the millionaire stood up. He held out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Gil, I reckon I have misjudged you. I am free 
 to own it. I take back most of what I said this morn- 
 ing. You go to Ontario at once as my representa- 
 tive." 
 
 Gilbert caught the hand as though it had been 
 a life-line. 
 
 "You are a good sort. Somehow I thought I 
 could make you understand. I gather that you will 
 let the whole arrangement remain as we planned it 
 the day before yesterday the car may run me over 
 to Penrith at once to catch the London express? 
 Then I shan't have to face them all downstairs . . . 
 and I can write to Miss Osbourne from Lon- 
 don." 
 
 "Give your own orders, Gil. She was right all 
 along. She told me from the first to put my money 
 on you, and I will."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 BERTALDA'S ACCIDENT 
 
 IN the car the father and daughter, as soon as 
 they were out of sight of other people, fell into 
 each other's arms. Charis was overwrought, tired, 
 excited, torn with doubts. She burst into tears, and 
 for a few minutes sobbed her heart out against his 
 lordship's rough frieze coat. 
 
 He is to be pardoned if he believed that this dis- 
 play of emotion was entirely the result of the re- 
 turn of the Prodigal Daughter, and in a few min- 
 utes she had pulled herself together to the extent of 
 gasping out a desire to know what was the trouble 
 at home. 
 
 "Bertalda," he told her with a curious effect of 
 nervousness. "Poor child I Poor child ! I feel like 
 a murderer!" 
 
 "You, Dad! Why, what have you done to her?" 
 He cleared his throat and did not reply directly. 
 "She she has had an accident," he stammered. 
 "An accident? Your fault? Motoring?" 
 "No, no. Merely the result of her pernicious 
 habit of wearing those terribly high heels on our 
 slippery oaken stairs. She fell downstairs this morn- 
 ing running to hear what news Clem brought back 
 
 244
 
 Bertalda's Accident 245 
 
 "Fell downstairs? And is she much hurt?" 
 
 "She is exceedingly ill. Dr. Frost is in attend- 
 ance, there is one nurse already in the house, and I 
 have wired for another. I have left Frost with 
 full discretion to telephone for a surgeon they 
 think an operation may be necessary, but cannot tell 
 as yet. Anyway, they told me nothing could happen 
 for several hours, and advised me to go and fetch 
 you." He ran his long, sensitive fingers up through 
 his hair. "I felt I simply couldn't face things with- 
 out you, Cissie." 
 
 "Oh, Dad! Poor Dad!" Miss Osbourne clutched 
 at him. "I am a selfish pig! I hate myself! I 
 never should have left you. I certainly didn't think 
 it would be for so long. You know, old thing, if you 
 had written and said that the Orsovers were finally 
 choked off and Clem had agreed to behave rationally 
 I would have come home like a shot!" 
 
 "I am aware of it, my daughter. The difficulty 
 all along has been Clem himself. You see, the poor 
 wretch is really in love with you that's the trouble. 
 It isn't a question of the property. Your Aunt 
 Eleanor says you are the only hope for him that 
 without you he would go all to pieces. You may not 
 credit it, Cis, but she did actually go on her knees 
 to me in the library, begging me to wait until you 
 had tasted hardship and loneliness long enough to 
 be glad to come back home on any terms. She has 
 all along maintained that it was only a lover's 
 quarrel " 
 
 "But, Dad, you knew better than that!"
 
 246 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Not for certain. Not until Clem showed me 
 your last letter to him. Then I knew. I told him 
 it was all over. Whereupon he fell into such a state 
 of mind that poor Bertie insisted upon keeping him 
 at Ringland lest he should go and do something 
 foolish. Most superfluous. Clem isn't that sort, 
 as I told her. But there were reasons that made 
 her feel sorry for him ... so he stayed on with 
 
 us." 
 
 "And you were bored stiff. Don't fib now." 
 
 "I fear he does bore me, Cissie. No denying it. 
 One day Bertie had her pony-carriage down in the 
 village, and Mrs. Hunter, the doctor's wife, came 
 up to her, said her daughter had seen you in a motor 
 accident at least, she could have sworn it was you, 
 but you denied it. Bertie came home with this story, 
 and after that there was no holding Clem. He was 
 in a fury, and vowed he would make one final at- 
 tempt to get you to hear reason, and if it failed he 
 would drop the whole thing. 
 
 "So he went off this morning and returned about 
 lunch-time. Bertalda was so anxious to know how 
 he had sped that she came running out of her room, 
 caught her foot, as I have told you, and fell a whole 
 flight." 
 
 His voice, as he gave this information, was full 
 of agitation which he could not conceal. Removing 
 his hat, he wiped drops from his brow. 
 
 "I packed him off," he went on harshly. "I had 
 had about enough of him he had done more than 
 enough harm to me and mine. He went off to the
 
 Bertalda's Accident 247 
 
 station there and then, and the car brought back 
 the doctor. So you need not be afraid of finding 
 Clem at home when we arrive; and I wish to 
 Heaven this fool would drive faster." 
 
 He leaned from the open window into the rain, 
 which was now falling fast, and called to the chauf- 
 feur to increase his pace. The car was negotiating 
 a narrow, winding road one that leads from 
 Pooley across the hills near Lowther and to obey 
 was rash, but, hearing his lordship's tone, the man 
 took the risk. On they rushed for a time in utter 
 silence while Charis marvelled at the way in which 
 she had underrated her father's attachment to his 
 wife. 
 
 She was feeling like Bottom translated. Here, 
 in one instant, she had entered a world wherein all 
 interests, all persons, all topics of conversation were 
 different. Already the memory of yesterday was 
 growing, not less distinct, but certainly less imme- 
 diate. It was beginning to seem more distant. 
 
 She was puzzled about Bertalda. That fine, 
 healthy young woman ! It seemed odd that she 
 should have been so fearfully injured simply by fall- 
 ing down a flight of stairs. And why should Lord 
 Ringland consider himself responsible? She longed 
 to ask for more details, but feared to torture her 
 father with questions. Now that the effort of 
 coming to fetch her was past, now that he had her 
 beside him and could relax, his mind flew back to 
 its devouring anxiety, its immense preoccupation. 
 His lips were dry; and when he sat up and, as if
 
 248 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 determined to show his self-control, lit a cigarette, 
 his hand shook. 
 
 "And what," he demanded after a long silence, 
 "and what have you been doing, Cissie?" 
 
 "Mischief," she replied gloomily. "Horribly seri- 
 ous mischief. It's no joke, Dad, to go experiment- 
 ing with life. I've made that discovery since I left 
 you." 
 
 "Then your adventures will not have been wholly 
 in vain," was the dry retort. 
 
 She leaned against him. "Dear old man, cheer 
 up. I know we shall find things better when we 
 reach home. It was a strain for you to come away 
 in the midst of it all." 
 
 "The doctor advised it ... something to do 
 . . . one could only wait and go mad." 
 
 Suddenly he snatched her into his arms, holding 
 her fast. "Little girl, I would have cut the knot 
 of your difficulty," he muttered. "I took a tre- 
 mendous responsibility, and it seems that Providence 
 has decided against me." 
 
 She thought he would have said more, but his 
 voice sank under the stress of what he was going 
 through. So they sat silent and motionless while 
 the car swept in through the widely flung lodge 
 gates, where the lodge-keeper peered with awed in- 
 terest for the return of the Prodigal Daughter, and 
 up the exquisitely kept avenue, out upon the wide 
 sweep of gravel bordered with shaven lawns and 
 glowing flower-beds. 
 
 As they drew up before the great doors the
 
 Bertalda's Accident 249 
 
 elderly butler, his face darkly flushed with excite- 
 ment, ran out upon the marble step and stood wav- 
 ing his arms with a total forgetfulness of dignity 
 and decorum. 
 
 "My lord, my lord !" he cried almost before they 
 could be expected to hear. "It's all over" Charis 
 turned cold and shivered "it's all over, and oh, 
 praise God, it's a boy a son and heir, my lord! A 
 son and heirl"
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 ALTERED CIRCUMSTANCES 
 
 LORD RINGLAND stood a moment rigid, 
 poised between extremity of joy and the 
 horror of an awful thought. He turned so pale that 
 his daughter thought he was going to faint. He 
 laid his thin, fine-drawn hand upon the sleeve of his 
 old servant's coat. 
 
 "Her ladyship," he managed to say; but his voice 
 was a mere whisper. 
 
 "Her ladyship has come through, my lord, and 
 Maddermosell tells me the doctors are very hope- 
 ful. She's that delighted, they say, it just makes 
 all the difference to her chances in fact, my lord, 
 as I said, there's every hope." 
 
 "And the child . . . healthy?" 
 
 "As fine a boy as was ever seen, so they tell me 
 and" the old man's voice was husky "I heard 
 him myself kicking up enough noise for two " 
 
 Ringland shared the quivering smile upon 
 Wright's face. For a minute or two the pair, who 
 had lived in the same house for so many years, stood 
 locked in the bonds of a silent sympathy. Then 
 Ringland drew a long breath, passed his finger over 
 his hot brow, and turned to face his daughter with 
 an air of confusion which she found delightfully 
 amusing. 
 
 250
 
 Altered Circumstances 251 
 
 "Oh, Dad, how clever you have been you and 
 Bertie!" she cried, running to hug him. "I never 
 had the teeniest suspicion of what has been going 
 on! Congratulations, darling, from my heart! My 
 little brother! How wonderful that sounds my 
 little brother! Isn't it splendid, Wright?" 
 
 "It's almost as good to see you back here, Missie, 
 if I may venture to say so where you ought to be," 
 replied the butler half reproachfully, half fondly, as 
 he preceded his master into the low, spacious hall 
 with its Tudor pargeted ceiling and massive beams. 
 
 "Cheek!" cried Miss Osbourne, pretending to 
 shake a fist at Wright, "but I won't box your ears 
 now, I am too full of excitement. A son and heir! 
 It doesn't seem possible !" 
 
 She saw her father lift his head and flash a glance 
 about him as though he now saw his own posses- 
 sions for the first time. His eye was full of a new 
 fire. "How long ago?" he inquired in a hushed 
 voice. 
 
 "Not more than a quarter of an hour, my lord. 
 Maddermosell said by the time you and Miss Os- 
 bourne had taken a cup of tea the doctors would be 
 ready to talk to you." 
 
 The new-made father glanced hungrily up the 
 stair. "I mustn't see her ladyship yet, I suppose?" 
 
 "Not at present, I gather, my lord. You see, it 
 has been, as you might say, touch and go; but my 
 own opinion is that my lady is much stronger than 
 the doctors give her credit for, and that she'll make
 
 252 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 a fine rally. After all, it's not more than a week too 
 soon," added the old man deprecatingly. 
 
 Ringland stood there in a dream, hesitating, wist- 
 ful, forgetful for the very first time since her birth, 
 of his cherished daughter's presence at his side. 
 
 "But surely I may see the youngster?" 
 
 "By the time you've had some tea, my lord, nurse 
 will have dressed him." 
 
 Charis felt tears well up to her eyes. They were 
 not evoked by jealousy. Rather was it a vast sym- 
 pathy which she felt. It was to her own surprise 
 that she found she could enter into her father's feel- 
 ings. How hard and unsympathetic she had been 
 wont to show herself in those old days when she was 
 the apple of his eye ! How selfishly she had left him, 
 not once so much as considering whether he would 
 miss her! Now all her outer crust of hardness 
 seemed melting in warm and unaccustomed emotion. 
 Yet she could not express what she felt she was 
 tongue-tied because dad seemed to have grown sud- 
 denly remote a new man the father of a son ! 
 
 They went together into the boudoir which was 
 Bertalda's own special room, and sat down before 
 the tea-tray. Both were curiously silent the man 
 because it was hard for him to digest the amazing 
 delight with which he was permeated the girl be- 
 cause she was feeling battered, exhausted, as a result 
 of what she had gone through during the past forty- 
 eight hours an experience of which her father was 
 utterly ignorant. 
 
 It was not until he had eaten and drunk Wright
 
 Altered Circumstances 253 
 
 told her he had had nothing since breakfast that 
 he leaned back contemplating his daughter, who sat 
 curled up in the deep cosiness of the Chesterfield, 
 with Bertalda's chow snuggling against her. 
 
 His first thought was of triumph at having lured 
 the wilful girl back to her home. His next was a 
 somewhat marked disapproval of her general ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 Charis wore the frieze suit in which she had made 
 the ascent on the previous day, and it bore a shrunken 
 and shrivelled aspect, having suffered from the rough 
 and ready methods of drying employed at the Threl- 
 keld hostelry. Her hat was crooked, her hands not 
 particularly clean, her hair decidedly rough. 
 
 "Oh, Chu Chin," said she, squeezing the little 
 dog playfully, "your nose will be out of joint now 
 with a vengeance!" 
 
 Her father started. Talk of noses being out of 
 joint made him a trifle uncomfortable. 
 
 "Cissie," he said, "I fear this has been sprung 
 upon you somewhat unmercifully. Have you thought 
 what this this event means to you?" 
 
 "I should just think I have I" she responded gaily. 
 "It is my salvation! Good-bye to Clem's worrying, 
 and greeting to my freedom!" 
 
 "Hardly just of you, Cis. Clem's in love with 
 you all right." 
 
 "But, most fortunately for me, Clem's mamma is 
 not. Quite the contrary in fact. It is she who has 
 been egging him on all this time; and when she hears 
 the news which you must send her at once she
 
 254 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 will call off the hunt with all possible dispatch and 
 keep her boy at home until she has selected another 
 heiress for him. Oh, I assure you, with Aunt Au- 
 gusta as my ally instead of my opponent, I have no 
 fears at all." 
 
 His lordship's face fell. "I'm sorry for Augusta. 
 She's very hard up ; and so am I, as you know, Cis. 
 That's the rub. I shall be obliged to make a new 
 will to-morrow, and with what I must leave the boy, 
 to enable him to carry on, you won't be much of a 
 match." 
 
 "Which seems to show my wisdom in turning out 
 to earn my own living, and, what's more, 'making 
 good'! Why, I'm independent! Do you know I 
 am earning twenty pounds a month, with board and 
 lodging thrown in? Some job, don't you think?" 
 She lowered her lashes naughtily, eyeing him from 
 beneath. "I'll confide something else to your 
 puissant lordship. I don't believe I am boasting 
 when I say that at this moment I could take my pick 
 of three husbands, concerning two of whom I can 
 assert with confidence that they had no suspicion at 
 all of my identity." 
 
 Her father turned his fine, tired eyes upon the 
 dishevelled young person curled up on the pale bro- 
 cade cushions, with her mud-stained boots hanging 
 just over the edge. 
 
 "You surprise me, Miss Osbourne," he remarked 
 with irony, "that is, if you have been accustomed to 
 go about among them in the guise you are now wear- 
 ing. Bertie would have a fit if she could see you."
 
 Altered Circumstances 255 
 
 Charis sat up and instinctively pushed her hat a 
 little straighten. The colour flew to her cheeks, and 
 she laughed as if abashed. Rising slowly she went 
 to a Venetian mirror and contemplated herself for 
 some minutes without speaking. 
 
 "Well!" said she at last, "I am indeed a sight 
 for the gods ! I shall have to get Bertie's Fifine to 
 take pity on me. However, this puts the coping- 
 stone upon my triumph ! In just these habiliments, 
 they being at the time soaked with rain, I was not 
 only wooed, but most ardently wooed when was 
 it? Yesterday evening? Is that possible? No 
 longer ago than that?" 
 
 For a long minute she stood staring at her reflec- 
 tion with a curious expression. She saw nothing 
 that her outward eyes beheld. She was in a small 
 dingy inn parlour, with a horsehair sofa, upon which 
 she sat, while a man, disproportionately big for the 
 room, paced to and fro. There was emotion wash- 
 ing like a high tide about her, sweeping her away 
 . . . and then there was actual submersion, while 
 for the first time a man's strong mouth met hers, 
 and for the first time she sensed the power of the 
 force she had called up and now was powerless to 
 subdue. 
 
 With fatal clearness there rose before her the 
 wonder of the man's renunciation. With his pas- 
 sion at mid-flow, with her words of consent in his 
 ears, he had felt the unspoken rebellion in her and 
 answered its demand. He had as it were caught 
 himself by the throat, wrestled with, and thrown
 
 256 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 himself . . . yes, thrown himself ... at her feet I 
 The grandeur of it shook her. Her lip went down 
 like a child's. Her exhaustion was about to culmi- 
 nate in a burst of tears when her father's frigid tones 
 brought her sharply out of her dream. 
 
 "So I have snatched you away from an atmos- 
 phere of courtship, have I? May I ask who did 
 you the honour to woo you, as you tell me, yester- 
 day?" 
 
 She answered in cut-and-dried tones. "His name 
 is Brown Cranstoun-Brown. I believe he's a clerk 
 in his father's office. Something to do with leather, 
 I think." 
 
 Lord Ringland, in the act of lighting his cigar, 
 faced round and eyed her in polite wonder. "Really, 
 Charis," he began; and then, just as her lips were 
 opening to cry out "Not now, I can't bear any 
 more" Wright opened the door with a beaming 
 face and ushered in the doctors, giving her the 
 chance she craved, to spring up and hasten from the 
 room, to summon some maid to her assistance and 
 rummage out a frock in which she would not so 
 obtrusively challenge her father's criticism. 
 
 Hardly had she gained the stair-head when she 
 encountered Mrs. Wishart, the portly Scotch house- 
 keeper, who seemed, like every one else, to wear a 
 smile which spread from ear to ear, but accomplished 
 the feat of growing even wider as her eyes fell upon 
 the daughter of the house. 
 
 It was good to be greeted with loving fervour, 
 although the greeting was an under-the-breath,
 
 Altered Circumstances 257 
 
 some-one-is-ill kind of affair; and then Mrs. Wishart, 
 creeping on silent feet and with beckoning finger, 
 pushed open a chink of door and slunk round a 
 screen. 
 
 Followed a whispered colloquy between her and 
 a strange nurse, rounded off by a tiny wail, indica- 
 tive of the mild disgust of the infant peer at the 
 world in which he had been somewhat precipitately 
 landed. Then Mrs. Wishart put her head round 
 the screen. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Osbourne, lovie, nurse says come in, 
 only don't make the leastest noise." 
 
 And there, in the course of the next few wonder- 
 ful seconds, they laid in her proud arms the heir of 
 her line. 
 
 "Oo-oo," she cooed, tremulous and choky, "I 
 never saw anything so young before so new. They 
 said new-born babies were ugly. Why, he's angelic 
 simply angelic how is my p'ecious baby budder? 
 Does he like his old sissie?" 
 
 She was cuddling him tenderly, coaxing the downy 
 top of his head with caressing lips, absorbed in the 
 miracle of birth as though it were a thing unheard 
 of. 
 
 "Miss Osbourne makes a good nurse, doesn't 
 she?" whispered one smiling onlooker to the other. 
 "And " 
 
 "Time you had one of your own, dearie," put in 
 the housekeeper, jealous for the first-born of the 
 house. 
 
 "Mrs. Wish, you're a shameless old thing," was
 
 258 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Charis's mock-furious retort; but as she stumbled 
 out of that room and hastened along the corridor 
 to her own, her eyes were streaming with helpless 
 tears. 
 
 "The 'last time I cried was when mother died," 
 she told herself angrily. "I've done enough weep- 
 ing in the course of this afternoon to last me the 
 rest of my natural life, I should say." 
 
 But she had by no means done with tears that 
 day. 
 
 As time wore on the dull ache at her heart grew 
 sharper and more insurgent. Her mind was drawn, 
 as though somewhere in the distance a magnet were 
 pulling at her, to the thought of the party she had 
 left at Ullswater a few miles as the crow flies, but 
 separated as it seemed by all the gulfs of prejudice 
 and restriction. . . . Gilbert's face arose before her 
 continually, as last she had seen it, with what Brown- 
 ing calls a "griped jaw" and eyes smouldering with 
 some emotion decidedly more pronounced and fiery 
 than mere regret . . . something she could not in- 
 terpret to her own satisfaction. 
 
 Naturally enough, her father did not at once re- 
 vert to her disclosure of her love affairs. His whole 
 mind was saturated with his happiness, and the posi- 
 tion of his finances gave him serious occupation. His 
 mind was a-simmer with a hundred schemes with 
 regard to the new dispositions he must make of his 
 property when his lawyer came out from Appleby. 
 His head buzzed with plans and designs, for he was 
 determinecTto set aside enough every year to enable
 
 Altered Circumstances 259 
 
 his son to live without anxiety, and to nurse the 
 property during as much of the long minority as 
 he might be spared to see. Upon these subjects he 
 enlarged with the daughter who had always been 
 his close companion; but ever like a refrain, there 
 broke into his discourse a little song of praise of 
 Bertalda, the wife who had given him a son. 
 
 Quite early in the evening, Charis had had as 
 much of it as she could stand and slipped away to 
 soak her pillow with salt drops. She ascribed much 
 of her depression to the fact that, dearly as she was 
 prepared to love her brother, she yet was not quite 
 free from the "nose-out-of-joint" pain, which is a 
 gnawing and detestable sensation; but she knew this 
 was not all. There was a cry in her heart to which 
 she would not listen. 
 
 Upon gaining her own room she had found, to 
 her joy, that her own maid, Flora, had not been dis- 
 missed, but retained by Mrs. Wishart in some other 
 capacity in the household in view of the general be- 
 lief that Miss Osbourne would certainly return home 
 just when they least expected her. 
 
 Flora's only fault had been that (prompted doubt- 
 less by the receipt of sundry half-sovereigns) she 
 had always been a strong advocate of the Osbourne- 
 Vyner match. 
 
 She was now bursting with the desire to give her 
 mistress all the latest news of what Lord Clement 
 had said and done, and was vexed at the decision 
 with which the subject was forbidden. 
 
 "Mark my words," said the maid the following
 
 260 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 night, when she was sitting (by special invitation) 
 in Mrs. Wishart's room, busy with renovations and 
 alterations for her mistress, "Miss Osbourne's as 
 likely as not to veer round now that the money ques- 
 tion isn't in it. She's romantic, I've always said so, 
 and she couldn't bear the idea of going with the 
 property. But now his poor young lordship's down 
 and out, she'll think of him very different see if she 
 don't." 
 
 "And then," said Mrs. Wishart wisely, "the 
 Marchioness, his Ma, will put her foot down." 
 
 "If she does that'll clinch it, and Miss Osbourne 
 will marry him, whether or no," eagerly cut in Flora. 
 "Marry him out of hand she would. Shouldn't 
 wonder if she ran off and got married on the sly. 
 She'll never do anything like anybody else. I'd give 
 something to know where she's been and what she's 
 been doing all this while. But I don't suppose we 
 ever shall." 
 
 "D'you think," asked the housekeeper doubtfully 
 she usually kept her rule of never discussing the 
 family, but present events had upset all routine 
 "think she's likely to settle down at home here?" 
 
 "If you ask me, no. Not she. She's in a queer 
 mood. Seemed lively enough, but her pretty eyes 
 were red with crying when I was dressing her yester- 
 day evening, and this morning her pillow was 
 damp." 
 
 Mrs. Wishart pondered. "A hotel you say they 
 brought her away from?" 
 
 "Yes. The big hotel on the lake at Glenridding.
 
 Altered Circumstances 261 
 
 Well, it's a rare good thing his lordship took the law 
 in his own hands and went and brought her back. 
 The talk there's been in the village you'd never be- 
 lieve. All through that Mrs. Hunter that was in the 
 motor accident on the Kirkstone. She said there 
 was a tall gentleman, not young, but very distanguy, 
 who rushed up to Miss Osbourne and lifted her out 
 of the car in his arms. His face, she said, was the 
 colour of chalk, and he could hardly speak for what 
 he was feeling." 
 
 The old housekeeper blinked gravely. "Seems 
 funny, don't it?" she reflected slowly. "However, 
 Miss Osbourne always did take her own way and I 
 suppose she always will. Wonder if we shall ever 
 hear any more? Anyways, keep a still tongue in the 
 hall, Flora, my girl." 
 
 "Let me alone for that. It's to be hoped you can 
 trust me, Mrs. Wishart."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A CONFESSION 
 
 LADY RINGLAND gave no cause for anxiety 
 after the first few hours. She slept all night, 
 the sleep of the utterly content, and her condition 
 was so satisfactory, that upon the following after- 
 noon her husband was admitted to see her as she 
 lay there smiling, with her son tucked into the hollow 
 of her arm. 
 
 Almost her first words were: "Poor little Cis 
 will be glad, won't she?" 
 
 Her husband thereupon revealed the fact that 
 Charis was actually in the house. He added that 
 there could be no doubt of her pleasure, and that she 
 would offer her congratulations in person as soon as 
 she was admitted to the Presence. 
 
 Charis meanwhile found herself, without luggage, 
 caught in the toils of dressmaking and fitting. 
 Flora's horror of her appearance had made her 
 think her father mercifully lenient; and she sub- 
 mitted to the maid's demands as a sort of expiation 
 of the state of disrepair in which she had made her 
 return, "quite on the lines of the best Prodigal tra- 
 ditions," she remarked to herself. 
 
 It was while she was thus occupied that Wright 
 knocked at the door with cards upon a salver. 
 
 262
 
 A Confession 263 
 
 They were Strachan's cards, and she gave a little 
 gasp as she took them. "Mr. Strachan is here?" 
 
 "No, Miss, Mr. Strachan would not come in, 
 although I ventured to say I knew he would be wel- 
 come. He merely called to inquire for her lady- 
 ship and for yourself, Miss; and to leave your lug- 
 gage." 
 
 Charis turned white. "Who was with him?" 
 
 "Two ladies, Miss; or it might be three. I would 
 not be sure. But two or three ladies. The car was 
 closed on account of the rain." 
 
 "No no gentlemen?" Her voice sounded un- 
 natural, even to herself, and she knew Flora must be 
 pricking her ears. 
 
 "Only Mr. Strachan himself, Miss. You will see 
 there is a note under the cards." 
 
 There was quite a little heap of cards those of 
 all the party. Beneath lay an envelope, addressed 
 in Strachan's careful hand. 
 
 She hardly waited for Wright's departure before 
 opening it hurriedly. 
 
 Its enclosure a cheque stared her in the face. 
 The amount was far larger than the fortnight's sal- 
 ary owed to her. The covering note was not a letter, 
 it had neither beginning nor end. It was just a 
 message. 
 
 "Have learned, much to my displeasure, from 
 Phyllis Brown, that she is in your debt for a consid- 
 erable sum, which she is apparently unable to pay, 
 in spite of my recent present to her. I therefore
 
 264 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 enclose it, with the salary owing to you, and add my 
 apologies on her behalf. We leave here early to- 
 morrow morning for Fratton Beck." 
 
 That was all, but upon the envelope were a few 
 words, evidently scribbled after making his in- 
 quiries at the door. 
 
 "Hearty congratulations on the good news. Hope 
 ner ladyship makes a fine recovery." 
 
 That was all. She stood staring at the written 
 words with an unpleasant feeling of having been dis- 
 missed without notice. Judging it necessary to say 
 something to cover the sharp smart of her wounded 
 vanity, she remarked: "Well, apparently, they've 
 brought along my luggage, Flora. You'll be able to 
 find some things." 
 
 "Yes, Miss. I hear it being carried up now, I 
 believe." 
 
 Charis let the charmeuse frock, full of pins, glide 
 to her feet, and stepped out of it. As Flora left the 
 room to superintend the depositing of the trunks in 
 the ante-room, she tried to face the future so 
 abruptly brought before her by Strachan's conduct. 
 What did she mean to do? What was she to make 
 of her life, now that she was no longer her father's 
 heiress? 
 
 With a sense of emptiness and loss she recalled 
 Strachan's offer so recently made to take her 
 away abroad anywhere she chose to go to keep
 
 A Confession 265 
 
 her safe with him so that no marriage might be 
 forced upon her. With a hideous sinking of the 
 heart she realised that all that was over now. He 
 knew who she was. She could never go back upon 
 the former terms. 
 
 "Oh, what a beast I am," she muttered, sinking, 
 into her favourite chair. Up till that moment she 
 had been conscious of a vague discomfort where 
 conscience was concerned. Now she was downright 
 ashamed of herself. She had set herself up as a 
 judge of others. She had judged poor dishonest 
 Phyllis, undisciplined Vee, Gilbert yes, even Gil- 
 bert! . . . And the only bright spot in the dark 
 picture was that, after all, she had been right in each 
 diagnosis. 
 
 Now the tables were turned, and she was being 
 judged by them. What sentence would Strachan 
 pronounce ? She thought he had already condemned 
 her. Kind as he had always been, she was well 
 aware that he was not an indulgent man. He had 
 not built up a vast business on sloppy sentiment. He 
 was clear-eyed, just, determined. 
 
 No doubt his affection for herself would consider- 
 ably modify his view of the matter. But there was 
 the black fact that she had come to him under false 
 pretences. She had been at play experimenting 
 with life and work. He must resent this deeply. 
 His message seemed to her to express his disgust 
 to emphasise the fact of his having washed his hands 
 of her. 
 
 The fact that they were going on to Fratton BecK
 
 266 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 sounded as though the tour were not abandoned, but 
 was being carried out according to schedule. What 
 of Gilbert? After his sharp quarrel with his rich 
 cousin after what might be described as his com- 
 plete break with him, on her account he could 
 hardly be still a member of the party. 
 
 Where was he then? She grew suddenly hot all 
 over as she reflected that it was quite possible he 
 might turn up at Ringland and demand to see her. 
 He would be entirely within his rights. . . . She 
 had no intention of going back upon her word. She 
 had announced her engagement before witnesses and 
 meant to stand to it. She now saw the urgent neces- 
 sity of preparing her father's mind before the ap- 
 pearance of her betrothed. Her father and Gilbert 
 Brown I It was hard to picture. She hated herself 
 for her discomfort, but she could not shake it off. 
 
 In the quiet of the library that night, after dinner, 
 she introduced the subject. 
 
 His lordship was at peace with all the world, and 
 comparatively at leisure to listen to his daughter and 
 pay a certain amount of attention to her affairs. To 
 her own surprise she felt suddenly shaky about the 
 knees as she opened the ball by handing him 
 Strachan's cards. 
 
 "Strachan!" said he, reading the name with some 
 interest. "Surely that's the man who made the 
 munificent gift of timber to the Canadian Govern- 
 ment, isn't it?" 
 
 "Did he? I never heard him mention it. But 
 he would not. He is the most modest of men."
 
 A Confession 267 
 
 "If this is the man I am thinking of, he is astound- 
 ingly wealthy. Does he come from Ontario?" 
 
 "Yes. His business is there, though he has big 
 estates in the Far West." 
 
 "Same man, no doubt. Was it he who proposed 
 to you? If so, you will at least be rich but no! 
 You spoke, I think, of a young clerk ? Some laugh- 
 able name." 
 
 "But, father, you mustn't laugh at it, because it 
 will be mine some day. I did not tell you yesterday 
 because you were so preoccupied, but I had better 
 make my insignificant announcement to-night. I am 
 engaged to Gilbert Cranstoun-Brown." 
 
 Her father arched his eyebrows and broke off his 
 cigar ash meditatively. 
 
 "So?" he said; "why is this? Defiance of Clem 
 eh?" 
 
 His eyes were now upon her, pretty searchingly, 
 and he saw her pallor. 
 
 "It it was partly that," she owned in a low voice. 
 "Not altogether, though. Somehow he he isn't 
 an easy man to say 'No' to." She gave a little 
 nervous laugh, unlike herself. Lord Ringland's 
 ironic eyes grew more serious. 
 
 "Tell me something about him, will you, Cis?" 
 
 "About himself or his position and prospects?" 
 
 "Perhaps we might take the second first, shall 
 we?" 
 
 She set her mouth uncompromisingly. "It is a 
 case of snakes in Ireland, Dad. He has neither posi- 
 tion nor prospects."
 
 268 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 There was a just perceptible pause. "His age?'* 
 questioned his lordship softly. 
 
 "About thirty." 
 
 "And he has not even begun to build up a career 
 of any kind?" 
 
 Her answer to this came swiftly. "His country 
 has seen to that. The Government helped itself to 
 the five essential years of his life the years that 
 count ! When he had done all a man could, he was 
 pushed out no further use for him! . . . But I 
 must tell you the worst of it. A prospect a good 
 one an admirable one had just opened out before 
 him. Through me he has lost it." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "Mr. Strachan, who is his cousin, is also a child- 
 less widower. As you have said, he is fabulously 
 wealthy. He had just arranged influenced a good 
 deal by me, I believe to take Gilbert into his busi- 
 ness. He was to sail for Canada at once. And I 
 suppose it was just that I mean the strain of what 
 he was feeling, and going so far away from me 
 which made him speak. Remember, he thought I 
 was just a typewriting clerk a wage-earner. And 
 when Mr. Strachan heard of the engagement he was 
 terribly angry." 
 
 "What made Strachan so angry?" 
 
 She hesitated. She could hardly own that she 
 thought it was jealousy. "I I couldn't quite make 
 out." 
 
 "But I think I make out very easily. You were
 
 A Confession 269 
 
 the Becky Sharp of the drama. You first induced 
 old Strachan to make the young man his heir, and 
 then annexed him. I dislike your methods myself, 
 my dear. I can see that they must have been most 
 displeasing to the millionaire." 
 
 This was a new idea to Charis and it hit her hard. 
 She did not want to believe it; but certainly the na- 
 ture of the communication she had that day received 
 tallied far better with such a view than it did with 
 the more flattering one. 
 
 "Well," she owned slowly, "he was dreadfully in- 
 dignant, and he withdrew his offer to Gilbert alto- 
 gether." 
 
 "You seem to have made a mess of things eh, 
 Cis?" 
 
 "Yes. An utter mess." 
 
 "Of course, there is another possible reason. 
 Strachan may have been jealous of the younger 
 man." 
 
 "He may. But he is not like that. Not a bit 
 petty, nor mean. He is a great man. I want you to 
 meet him. You and he would get on, I am certain." 
 
 "Your account of him interests me ... a good 
 deal more than what I have gathered concerning my 
 future son-in-law. Can you tell me anything of the 
 young man's personal gifts?" 
 
 His fluent daughter remained absolutely mute. 
 She gazed into the wood fire which had been kindled 
 for them, June notwithstanding; her eyes filled and 
 her mouth quivered.
 
 270 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "You're not going to tell me you're in love with 
 him, Cis?" 
 
 She moved suddenly, putting up both hands to 
 her throat. Then she covered her face. U I wish 1 
 knew," she managed to get out. 
 
 For the first time, her father looked really appre- 
 hensive. 
 
 "How long ago did your engagement take 
 place?" 
 
 "The day before yesterday." 
 
 "So recently as that? And what did the young 
 man do when Strachan turned him down?" 
 
 "How should I know? We were in the midst of 
 an awful scene when you swept in and carried me 
 off. And now, of course, everything will be differ- 
 ent, because they have found out who I am. . . ." 
 
 "And what difference do you expect that to 
 make?" 
 
 "It has evidently caused Mr. Strachan to assume 
 that my post as his secretary is vacant. He called 
 to inquire this afternoon and left a cheque for my 
 salary." She could not keep her voice from break- 
 ing, and bit her lip. 
 
 "And that hurts? You like Strachan, then?" 
 
 "I can't tell you how much." 
 
 "But you are not sure of your feeling for your 
 affianced husband?" 
 
 "I won't answer that question straight out, Dad. 
 If you can spare the time, I want to tell you the 
 whole of my adventures."
 
 A Confession 271 
 
 "My independent daughter, during the past year 
 you cannot be said to have made undue claims upon 
 my leisure. I am entirely at your service. Confess 
 away." 
 
 Charis began at first with hesitation, but by de- 
 grees, as she saw him interested, with more con- 
 fidence, to unfold her story. He heard all about 
 Strachan's idea that she should study the characters 
 of his possible legatees, and her acceptance of the 
 post without telling him who she was. He also heard 
 the story of the tour, the motor accident, Phyllis 
 and the unpaid loan, and finally of the Helvellyn 
 adventure. 
 
 He gave her at first his customary half-humorous, 
 half-serious attention, but as the tale progressed, she 
 could see that he was being forced to some conclu- 
 sion not at all to his liking. His comments ceased, 
 his brows gathered. 
 
 When she had quite done, he arose from his seat 
 and stood upon the hearthrug, frowning down upon 
 her. His unspoken displeasure caused her to burst 
 out into a passionate condemnation of Clem's con- 
 duct of his disgraceful persecution and the false 
 position into which he had forced her. 
 
 "You think of it as a false position? One from 
 which you desire to escape?" 
 
 She did not reply, for she was swallowing tears. 
 
 "I must beg," said his lordship in measured tones, 
 "that you will make up your mind on the point with- 
 out delay. Because I hardly see how you are to get 
 out of this engagement, except in a way unbecoming
 
 272 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 to my daughter. Do you wish to be alluded to as a 
 professional jilt? You seem to have made your bed 
 pretty awkwardly, Cis. But I fear that you must 
 lie upon it."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE JUDGE IS JUDGED 
 
 THERE was little sleep for Charis that night 
 She was of those who are accustomed to see 
 their own conduct largely in the light of other peo- 
 ple's opinion. She had not been proud of herself, 
 but she had not squarely faced the position until her 
 father's words had fallen, like corrosive acid, upon 
 her sensitive heart. 
 
 He disliked her methods. He had no doubt of 
 Strachan's dislike of them also. 
 
 The more she considered, the more clear it seemed 
 to her that he was right. What other explanation 
 could there be of Strachan's hurried note, his half- 
 contemptuous enclosure of the money which she 
 could not refuse? 
 
 These thoughts were not comfortable bed-fel- 
 lows, and the morning found her so weary and de- 
 pressed that she gladly accepted Flora's suggestion 
 that she should have her breakfast in bed; the more 
 that by this arrangement she would be spared a 
 meeting with her father, whom she knew to be pro- 
 foundly disturbed and dissatisfied respecting her 
 engagement. 
 
 The difficulty which faced her was her complete 
 uncertainty as to what she ought to do next. If Gil- 
 bert failed to make his appearance that day what 
 
 273
 
 274 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 then ? Should the move come from him or from her 
 family? 
 
 Flora re-entered in the midst of her perplexities, 
 carrying a tray-load of good things. Tucked into 
 the daintily folded fringed napkin was a letter. 
 With a movement of the heart so violent as to 
 trouble her, she recognised the square, unduly black 
 handwriting which she knew to be Gilbert's writing 
 which, as she once told him, always looked as though 
 he were angry with his pen. 
 
 Here was solution of at least a part of her prob- 
 lem. Gilbert had made the next move. He had 
 written, and she had an absurd desire to cry with 
 childish happiness; for here at least would be balm 
 to her aching vanity, incense for her neglected shrine. 
 Here at least was one in whose eyes she could do no 
 wrong who would find excuse for any lapse, even 
 one far more outrageous than anything she was 
 conscious of. 
 
 It seemed as though Flora would never leave the 
 room. She fussed about the washstand, refolded 
 towels, sorted out hairpins at the toilet table and 
 even plumped up the cushions in the easy chairs be- 
 fore withdrawing to the next room, where she could 
 be heard unpacking. Charis could wait no longer. 
 She tore open the envelope, drew forth the paper 
 and read: 
 
 "Redmays, Streatwood. 
 
 "DEAR Miss GARTH, These few words are by 
 way of farewell. I sail to-morrow on the Escallonia,
 
 The Judge is Judged 275 
 
 and, however quickly you may find that a ridiculous 
 episode is fading from your memory, it yet might 
 seem lacking in courtesy (after what has passed) 
 should I depart quite without leave-taking. 
 
 "I learn with satisfaction from George Strachan 
 that the birth of an heir to your father's property 
 sets you free from the pressure brought to bear upon 
 you in order to persuade you to marry Lord Clem- 
 ent Vyner ; and consequently from any obligation to 
 hold to the desperate alternative of considering 
 yourself engaged to me. 
 
 "You must, I feel sure, have derived considerable 
 amusement and experience from your plucky adven- 
 ture into the nether world. We seemed, no doubt, 
 a fearful kind of wild-fowl to you. 'Our manners 
 have not that repose which stamps the caste,' etc. 
 
 "But I can and will spare you reproaches or 
 taunts. I will merely own that, as you foresaw, I 
 find the truth harder to forgive than any of the 
 contingencies I had imagined. 
 
 "In spite of which I will avow myself, 
 'Sincerely yours, 
 "GILBERT CRANSTOUN-BROWN. 
 
 "How the 'Cranstoun' must have tickled your 
 keen sense of humour 1" 
 
 Charis felt as though she had been flayed alive. 
 With a gasp she fell back among her pillows, shiver- 
 ing, sick, agonised. Yet she knew at once that she 
 ought to have foreseen just this; that she had, as a
 
 276 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 fact, suspected it, though she would not admit to her- 
 self the nature of her fears. 
 
 What next? What next? 
 
 He wrote from Streatwood. He was sailing 
 when? and whither? 
 
 Was he going to Ontario after all? Had Strachan 
 and he been reconciled after her departure? 
 
 She guessed that this must be so. The urgent 
 point was to decide what to do. And first, to decide 
 what she wished to do in the matter. She took up 
 the letter. It was dated with the man's usual preci- 
 sion at 10 A.M. on the morning of the preceding 
 day. He must, then, have left Ullswater quite 
 shortly after she herself had done so. And he was 
 sailing at the present moment he had perhaps 
 already sailed. 
 
 It was then, at that actual moment, that the scales 
 fell finally from the eyes of Charis and she knew her 
 own heart at last. 
 
 It was Gilbert ... or no man. 
 
 Her mind, however, refused to act at once. It 
 seemed to be whirling about in futile circles. She 
 felt utterly helpless and crushed under the weight of 
 her punishment. The thought of never seeing Gil 
 again, worse, of dragging out her whole future life 
 under the weight of his scorn, afflicted her even to 
 the extent of vertigo. She was obliged to lie quite 
 still, both hands above her thumping heart, a vague 
 wonder drifting through her brain as to whether 
 this meant death. 
 
 Slowly she rallied from the numbing force of
 
 The Judge is Judged 277 
 
 the blow, and by degrees breathed more freely, 
 while the mists cleared and the tumult of her heart 
 subsided. 
 
 A weak voice called for Flora, and the maid, en- 
 tering, stopped short in horror. 
 
 "Mercy, Miss Osbourne, are you ill?" 
 
 Charis assented without words, and Flora fled 
 to Mrs. Wishart for sal volatile. 
 
 When it was administered her colour improved, 
 but still she lay there like one stricken, and Flora 
 begged to know if she had had bad news. 
 
 She admitted it. "I'm in trouble, serious trouble," 
 she owned tremulously. "I don't know what to do. 
 Do you know where his lordship is, Flora?" 
 
 "His lordship's out with Hazelrigg, Miss. But 
 hadn't I better send for the doctor?" 
 
 This suggestion was opposed with a violent nega- 
 tive. In fact, it so roused the girl as to pull her to- 
 gether more speedily than might have otherwise 
 been the case. She had heard unexpected news, that 
 was all so she explained her attack. In every other 
 respect she was perfectly well. 
 
 Like many confirmed country dwellers, Lord 
 Ringland was an early riser. He always breakfasted 
 at eight, and this morning he was off with his agent, 
 busy inspecting, calculating, estimating viewing his 
 property entirely from the standpoint of his suc- 
 cessor. Charis knew he would not return much be- 
 fore lunch. Was there nothing which she could do? 
 
 Her thoughts flew to Strachan but he was at 
 Fratton Beck, in the most remote corner of Tees-
 
 278 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 dale, and she did not know where to send a tele- 
 gram. A wild idea of sending one to Redmays 
 crossed her mind. But it was a hundred chances to 
 one that Gilbert would have left before it arrived; 
 and she felt very sure that he had said nothing to 
 his mother of his short-lived engagement. It would 
 be worse than useless to telegraph there. Her one 
 hope was Strachan. 
 
 When she faced the problem of what to say to 
 him, however, her courage sank. Almost anything 
 would be easier . . . she wondered whether the 
 boat sailed from Liverpool or Southampton. Wild 
 ideas of taking the car and rushing thither without 
 delay floated through her mind. She had the sense, 
 however, to send for the Times, and ascertain that 
 the sailings of the Flower Line steamers were all 
 from Southampton, though she could find no men- 
 tion of the Escallonia in her haste. 
 
 Something, however, she felt that she must do. 
 After many discarded attempts she composed the 
 following message : 
 
 "Have pity, delay Gilbert's departure till I have 
 seen him. Act instantly." 
 
 She then wrapped herself in her kimono, went to 
 the telephone in her father's dressing-room and dic- 
 tated the message to the post-office. They told her 
 the nearest office to Fratton Beck was Woodlands-in- 
 Teesdale, about two miles distant from the Rectory. 
 
 Having done this the only thing she could think 
 of she returned to her room, bathed and dressed,
 
 The Judge is Judged 279 
 
 and crept to the nursery to distract her misery with 
 the sight of the beautiful infant. She seated herself 
 beside the cradle, wherein he slept the sleep of the 
 replete in an odour of violet powder, and curved her 
 arm about the cradle head as if therein lay all the 
 comfort in a cruel world. 
 
 The weather was improving, the clouds were part- 
 ing, the sun of June was pouring hotly over the lovely 
 prospect outside the windows. For the first time in 
 a fortnight, England was having a glimpse of sum- 
 mer. 
 
 ***** 
 
 "Gilbert! Gilbert! Gilbert!" 
 
 Her heart reiterated the name. There was no 
 help for it. She was his, and at last she knew it ... 
 and he had flicked her contemptuously aside and 
 turned his back upon her. He thought of her slight- 
 ingly, as a despicable thing seeming gold which 
 turned out to be mere gilding. 
 
 Her head swam in a maze of confused feeling. 
 When the nurse peeped in and, with the air of one 
 conferring a dukedom, whispered that if she pleased 
 she might slip in and see her ladyship for a few 
 minutes, she rose, hardly conscious of where she was 
 going, and entered the dainty, carefully garnished 
 room like one in a dream. 
 
 Bertalda lay, as it were, on the crest of the wave. 
 She had never anticipated the completeness of her 
 triumph this glory which was hers as the mother 
 of the heir. She looked the part, was dressed for it, 
 was living up to it. Her surroundings of rosy silk
 
 280 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 quilts, glittering silver, snowy linen, vaporous crepe 
 de chine, were all exactly in the picture. 
 
 With the perversity which makes one see exactly 
 the detail to which one would fain be blind, Charis 
 marked upon her finger a certain ring, a family heir- 
 loom, which her father had kept in reserve for his 
 daughter. Now what could be too good for the 
 mother of his son? 
 
 "Why, daughter, how ill you look!" murmured 
 Bertie in her usual tones of lazy mockery. 
 
 "I'm feeling a bit cheap," admitted Charis, forc- 
 ing a smile. "Haven't quite got over my adventure 
 on the mountain, I expect. But don't let's talk of 
 that let's admire your magnificent son." 
 
 Bertalda owned demurely that she had never sup- 
 posed a new-born infant could be so extraordinarily 
 attractive; and then nurse bore in the treasure and 
 laid him on the bed, and the two hung over him 
 examining his fingers, his toes, his features and his 
 complexion, with the absorption which is customary. 
 
 "I wish I knew what you've been up to, Cis," 
 smiled Bertalda presently. "Aren't you sorry you 
 gave poor old Clem the mitten? If you had been 
 engaged, he couldn't have backed out, you know." 
 
 Charis smiled an elfin smile. "Wouldn't Aunt 
 Gus have loved me? I imagine her to-day in the 
 private chapel at Orsover, thanking whatever gods 
 there be for her, for the marvellous escape Clem has 
 had! No, my dear, you know better than to sup- 
 pose I could grow pale for Clem's sake ! When you
 
 The Judge is Judged 281 
 
 are better, dad will tell you of the mischief I have 
 been up to got my fingers burnt that's all." 
 
 The luncheon gong rolled through the house and 
 she got away without more said. Her father was 
 in the hall as she ran down, and he, too, exclaimed 
 at the sight of her "Hallo, Cis! What has hap- 
 pened?" 
 
 She grasped his arm. "Come here into your 
 den a moment. You'll be p-p-pleased, I expect I 
 It's all over I'm I'm I've got the chuck, as one 
 might say." 
 
 She thrust Gilbert's letter into his hand, and stood 
 there strained and breathless as he read. One 
 perusal seemed not enough for him. From begin- 
 ning to end he read it twice, while she felt as if 
 time stood still. Then he shrugged his shoulders as 
 he folded it with precision and held it out to her. 
 
 "The gentleman can hit hard," said he. "I feel 
 sorry he is not to be my son-in-law. The man who 
 could write that letter has got stuff in him. Dear, 
 dear, what a pity ! We might have got on together !" 
 
 He took her lightly by the arm to pilot her into 
 the room where lunch awaited them. In the hall 
 Wright met them with an orange envelope upon a 
 salver. 
 
 Charis snatched it, tore it open, read what was 
 written, looked up at her father and turned so pale 
 that he put his arm round her to support her. She 
 was not unconscious, but her head fell limply against 
 his coat, and she was for the moment quite incapable 
 of speech.
 
 282 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Lord Ringland took the message from her hand 
 and read: 
 
 "Regret Escallonia sailed eight o'clock this morn- 
 ing. STRACHAN,"
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 STRACHAN'S SUGGESTION 
 
 wife of the vicar of Fratton Beck stood at 
 X the window of her drawing-room gazing 
 across the moor in the direction of Cauldron Snout 
 for the first sign of the returning party, that she 
 might tell Hannah to make the tea. 
 
 The sun, which showed up the shabbiness of the 
 vicarage furniture, seemed to rest lovingly upon the 
 cloud of white hair which rippled on Mrs. Nichol- 
 son's head. It was hard to believe that she and 
 Mrs. Cranstoun-Brown were sisters. 
 
 Mary Nicholson, married at nineteen to a man 
 who was both highly educated and well-bred, had 
 developed and gone on developing in an upward 
 direction. When first Strachan met her, he felt a 
 real kinship, and told himself that now he knew 
 whence Gilbert derived. The nephew curiously re- 
 sembled his Aunt Mary about the brow and mouth. 
 The idealist always crushed down and trampled 
 upon in Gilbert had been cultivated in his aunt. 
 Her face had that beauty which is owed solely to 
 expression as though a lamp burned behind, and 
 the whole countenance were suffused with its light. 
 
 Welcomed by the simple hospitality of the pair, 
 Strachan wished he had come hither sooner. 
 
 283
 
 284 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Though Mrs. Nicholson understood none of what 
 had happened, she nevertheless acted as a soothing 
 balm to his aching heart. 
 
 There was no pretence the frugality of the 
 household could not be hid and no attempt was 
 made to do so. The thought of how best to relieve 
 these two from pecuniary anxiety for the remainder 
 of their days diverted the rich man's broodings and 
 gave him a new interest. 
 
 The sound of a car rushing up the Dale was quite 
 a usual one in summer time, and Mrs. Nicholson 
 took no notice of this one until it turned in at the 
 vicarage gate. 
 
 A tall, elderly man emerged, who could be heard 
 the window being open inquiring for Mr. 
 Strachan. Learning that he was out, he asked that 
 he might be allowed to await his return; and at that 
 the hospitable Mrs. Nicholson went into the hall, 
 greeted the stranger kindly and led him into the sit- 
 ting-room, explaining that she was expecting Mr. 
 Strachan back at any moment. 
 
 The party, in fact, materialised almost at once. 
 They all walked in together, those staying at the 
 inn having come for tea to the vicarage. Lord Ring- 
 land, already most favourably impressed by his 
 hostess, was quite struck with the charm of Strach- 
 an's face. He briefly explained who he was, and 
 did not fail to note the chill and stiffening of the 
 Canadian's manner when he heard the name. 
 
 Hospitably pressed to sit down to tea, he had an 
 opportunity to observe all the members of the party
 
 Strachan's Suggestion 285 
 
 in which his daughter had travelled. Morrison was, 
 as he already knew, a friend of his nephew Clement 
 Vyner. Mrs. Varick he found charming. When 
 the vicar appeared, dusty and thirsty after a long 
 tramp to an outlying farm, to minister to a sick 
 parishioner, he proved to be as unusual and interest- 
 ing as his wife and their cousin. 
 
 With all but Strachan, his lordship was soon on 
 friendly terms. Veronica and Sheila asked after 
 "Miss Garth" with demure faces but merry eyes; 
 and permitted their smiles free play when they found 
 the visitor quite prepared to be chaffed about his 
 daughter's disingenuous behaviour. 
 
 Tea over, he rose, and suggested that Mr. 
 Strachan should stroll down with him as far as the 
 beck. Strachan assented, markedly without enthusi- 
 asm. Cigarettes were lighted and they moved off 
 together. 
 
 No sooner were they gone than comment broke 
 out from all the talkative party. 
 
 "So that's his lordship !" This from Vee, always 
 first to put in her word. "He's very like her, isn't 
 he? Has that same habit of smiling with his eyes. 
 . . . But my! Hasn't he got the grand manner! 
 Did you notice, Aunt Mary?" 
 
 "I notice that his manners are better than those 
 of the present generation," smiled her aunt; "but 
 then I may say that I usually find that to be the 
 case with men of his age. Your Cousin George, for 
 example." 
 
 "Trust auntie to have a dig at us," laughed Vee,
 
 286 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "when all the time she's thinking what an amusing 
 crowd we are ! But you liked him, didn't you now?" 
 
 "I think he acted very properly in coming to visit 
 George," was the composed rejoinder. "I think he 
 would have acted still more properly had he come a 
 day or two sooner." 
 
 "Mr. Strachan did not give him an effusive wel- 
 come," smiled Sheila. , 
 
 "George is proud." 
 
 "His cousin Gilbert resembles him there." 
 
 "I'm sorry not to have seen Gilbert," said Mrs. 
 Nicholson regretfully. "He was such a nice boy 
 when last he stayed with us. He seemed to love the 
 moors and not to find it at all dull here." 
 
 "How odd," remarked Phyllis. "He was always 
 complaining that Streatwood was so dull." 
 
 Like many of poor Phyllis's remarks, this one 
 brought the conversation to a close by reason of its 
 sheer ineptitude. 
 
 When the two gentlemen were presently seen re- 
 turning, Strachan's face had taken on a decidedly 
 more genial expression. 
 
 "Mary, my dear," said he as he entered, "can you 
 contrive to do without me for a day or two? His 
 lordship wants to carry me off to Ringland, and I 
 have accepted his invitation." 
 
 Charis lay out in the hammock, under one of the 
 great cedars which are a feature at Ringland. It 
 was nearly eight o'clock (summer time), and the
 
 Strachan's Suggestion 287 
 
 sun was still above the horizon, dyeing the waters of 
 the lake in splendour. 
 
 She was feeling utterly beaten down with misery 
 and loneliness. Her father had been absent for 
 hours and hours, and she had passed the livelong 
 day in solitude, but for the interludes of heir-wor- 
 ship in the nursery. 
 
 She had found by now ample time for introspec- 
 tion, and the result was a depression which daunted 
 her. She knew that she dare not face this life of do- 
 nothing. Whatever chanced, she could not remain 
 at Ringland, consuming herself with unavailing re- 
 gret. She was beginning to emerge from her stupe- 
 fied state, and to feel an intensity of wretchedness 
 such as she could hardly have thought possible. 
 
 At last she heard the sound of the returning car. 
 It ceased its purring at the gate which divided the 
 garden from the park, and she guessed that her 
 father was walking thence. She watched for him to 
 come into sight round the big rhododendron clump. 
 Two gentlemen, of much the same height and build, 
 came slowly into view, walking in deep confabula- 
 tion. One was her father the other 
 
 With a glad cry she sprang from the hammock, 
 flew across the smooth-shaven lawn and grasped 
 Strachan by both hands. 
 
 "You? You? How topping! Where do you 
 come from? How did you get here?" 
 
 "I come from Fratton Beck, and your father did 
 me the honour to fetch me. He told me he had a 
 little girl who was fretting herself ill, and as I was
 
 288 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 responsible for her hurt, he indicated that it was up 
 to me to see what could be done. Why, my child 
 my dear child what have you done with your- 
 self?" as he marked the underlined eyes, the heavy 
 lids, the white cheeks. "No more of this, you 
 know." 
 
 "Then then you're not angry with me? You 
 haven't dropped me for ever and ever?" 
 
 "Now what in this little old earth put into your 
 head the idea that I was angry? No, indeed. Far 
 from it. I did not dare to butt in, the British aris- 
 tocracy being a thing I have no experience of." 
 
 "Humbug!" As she smiled up at him the tears 
 were beaded on her lashes. "Oh, it is good to see 
 you ! I'm starved for news real sensible commer- 
 cial news news of the business! I'm eating my 
 heart out to know have Greely and Mason gone 
 back on the Assinauga contract? And did you, after 
 all, get your price with the Cosmopolitan Trans- 
 shipping Company?" 
 
 Her father broke into laughter. "So these are 
 the things which really interest you, are they? No 
 wonder I couldn't hit on a congenial topic! But 
 you must wait for the answer to these thrilling ques- 
 tions until I have taken Mr. Strachan up to his room 
 or we shall have Wright employing his strongest 
 known protest bringing the dinner-gong out upon 
 the lawn!" 
 
 ***** 
 
 "Now," said Strachan gravely when, dinner over, 
 he had wandered with Charis down to the lakeside,
 
 Strachan's Suggestion 289 
 
 and had watched the slipping away of a herd of fine 
 deer, startled by their approach. "Now, Miss 
 Osbourne, let us get down to bedrock." 
 
 "As long as you call me Miss Osbourne, you'll 
 never get anywhere near bedrock," was the swift re- 
 tort. "Please I'm Charis to you . . . even though 
 I never shall be to him." 
 
 Strachan watched her with eyes quickened by 
 love. "I want the truth then, Charis. This white 
 face, these tears at night are they really for Gil- 
 bert?" 
 
 She made a funny little growling sound, gazing 
 at him half-defiantly, half-despairingly. "Oh, laugh 
 at me as much as you like! I feel like a savage 
 squaw whose husband has licked her with a thick 
 stick, and who therefore grovels before him! Gil- 
 bert has scourged me with knotted rope every cut 
 of the whip has bitten in so deep that the least touch 
 is agony. And and I think I deserved it. But 
 that he will never know." 
 
 "Never know?" 
 
 "How should he? One could not reply to such a 
 letter as he sent me." 
 
 "I wonder would you let me see it? Your 
 father, apparently, thought it remarkable." 
 
 Without embarrassment, as if it were the most 
 natural hiding-place in the world, she drew the letter 
 from within her low bodice and handed it to him. 
 
 "My God!" burst out Strachan. "Gilbert's a 
 lucky man ! Oh, he has the world's chance, and yet
 
 290 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 he hasn't the sense to take it! Presumes to sit in 
 judgment upon you you." 
 
 She smiled with wry mouth. "I sat in judgment 
 on him, remember for weeks and weeks . . . but 
 do me the justice to admit that I always appreciated 
 him." 
 
 Strachan perused his cousin's letter with un- 
 moved face. u And you say you have not replied to 
 this?" 
 
 "Certainly not. What could I say? Would you 
 like me to beg of him to give me another trial?" 
 
 His eyes pierced her. "Then you have decided 
 to whistle him down the wind?" 
 
 "Now, sir, don't presume," said she, softly and 
 lightly, but with an undercurrent of strong feeling. 
 "You have pried behind the scenes and looked at 
 my raw wound. But it's going to heal. What do 
 you suppose I'm made of ? Am I the one to knuckle 
 under to the brute who knocks me down with a 
 cudgel? Oh, I hope you know me better 1 If he 
 had been patient or tender or or humble, as he 
 ought to have been things might have been dif- 
 ferent. As it is . . . after to-night, we won't men- 
 tion it, please." 
 
 "We shan't get much chance to do that," drawled 
 Strachan, gazing with narrowed eyes across the lake. 
 "I'm off again directly. Had a letter from Greely 
 and Mason which has made my blood boil; and I've 
 got to catch a boat out to Canada in a month's time 
 from now. Do you know laugh at me, won't you? 
 I funk going over without my secretary. All these
 
 Strachan's Suggestion 291 
 
 matters have passed through your hands, and it 
 seems kind of lonesome to grapple with them with- 
 out you." 
 
 Without looking at her he saw the sudden leap 
 of all her being at the chance held out ... it was 
 quite a long time before she said: 
 
 "It's a pity I can't go with you. "I I never 
 thought our time together would have ended in a 
 month's salary in lieu of notice." 
 
 "I never meant it to end so. If it does, it will be 
 your choice, not mine. Personally, I see no reason, 
 things being as they are, why you should not come 
 out with me. I realise that you must wait for the 
 state christening of the future baron; but that would 
 suit me well. Mrs. Varick wants to see Canada, and 
 said, if I could persuade you, she would avail herself 
 of our escort. And I don't think your father would 
 see any objection. Think it over."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 DREAMS; AND THE AWAKENING 
 
 IT was late evening, but hardly dusk, when a car 
 drew up to the broad steps of a great house in 
 Ontario, and Strachan, alighting, helped out the 
 two ladies in his charge. 
 
 His English butler, husband of his Canadian 
 housekeeper, stood upon the steps to welcome him. 
 
 "Well, Marks, how goes it?" asked Strachan, 
 shaking hands kindly with his servant. "You have 
 carried out my instructions? Mr. Brown does not 
 know that we are expected?" 
 
 "No, sir, he don't," replied Marks cheerfully. 
 "Mrs. Marks and me, we haven't named it. Nor he 
 hasn't seen any preparations; but then he's hardly 
 ever in the house, except when he's asleep." 
 
 "Indeed? I hope he's not overworking, Marks?" 
 
 "Well, sir, he's pretty regular at the office, and I 
 have heard he's making things hum there," said 
 Marks with a smile. "But he's what you might call 
 caught on in society here, and he has invitations 
 enough to last him his lifetime. Well, sir, and I 
 will say you look well ! England's done you a power 
 of good, as I felt sure it would do." 
 
 "Yes. I feel a great deal stronger for the change, 
 thanks; and now you were saying where is Mr. 
 Brown at this moment?" 
 
 292
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 293 
 
 "Mr. Cranstoun-Brown came home a little before 
 five, changed into flannels at once and went off to 
 tennis at General Moore's. I am expecting him back 
 any minute, and have put out'his things for him. He 
 dines with Mr. Archer, and off with him to a ball 
 at the governor's house." 
 
 "Ah! I'm glad folks are showing him hospi- 
 tality. And now, ladies, you had better go upstairs 
 and prepare for dinner you haven't much more 
 than half an hour." 
 
 Mrs. Marks, flanked 'by a couple of maids, ap- 
 peared to lead Charis and Sheila to their rooms, 
 which they found replete with every luxury accord- 
 ing to Canadian ideas, and they were much inter- 
 ested in examining the heating system, the water 
 supply, and so on. When the bell sounded, they 
 came downstairs. together and found Strachan await- 
 ing them in the hall. They were just about to repair 
 to the dining-room, when the hum of a car was heard 
 and a fine Daimler stopped at the gate. In it were 
 some young men in flannels, one of whom jumped 
 out, and, as his friends drove off, came running 
 lightly up the steps, racquet in hand, and admitted 
 himself with a latchkey. 
 
 As he stepped within the hall he halted abruptly, 
 gazing upon what at first seemed to be an hallucina- 
 tion. 
 
 Then, as though he had touched in himself some 
 lever which brought the whole of him immediately 
 into subservience to his will, he came forward with a 
 smile and gesture of greeting.
 
 294 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Hallo, George, this is admirably staged! How 
 many of the old gang have you persuaded to cross 
 the herring-pond? Have you got the others con- 
 cealed upstairs?" 
 
 He shook hands with Mrs. Varick, then with his 
 cousin, and last with his cousin's secretary. "Let 
 me guess," said he, as he turned from his perfunc- 
 tory shake of her hand to Strachan with a laugh, 
 "you distrusted me so profoundly that you felt im- 
 pelled to steal a march upon me? Well, I think the 
 ledgers will bear examination haven't had time yet 
 to get far with my schemes of defalcation." 
 
 Strachan placed both hands upon the broad 
 shoulders. "If they bear inspection as well as you 
 do, I shan't complain! You look extremely well, 
 Gilbert, and I hear the whole of this little old village 
 has fallen for you." 
 
 "Who told you that yarn? Marks has been 
 romancing. But I admit that, for your sake, folks 
 are being very kind to me. Mrs. Varick, quite a 
 scheme for you to come over ! I think you will find 
 a good deal to interest you in various ways. By the 
 way, I expect you are all just going in to dinner, 
 and I fear I mustn't linger now! Some men are 
 calling for me in fifteen minutes' time, and we're 
 going to a dance! Must get into my war-paint! 
 Tell me the home news to-morrow." 
 
 He laughed, nodded, sprang up the stairs and 
 disappeared. 
 
 "We-ell!" said Sheila, with one amused eye upon 
 Strachan and one on the impassive countenance of
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 295 
 
 Charis. "As that delightful man we met on board 
 would have said, Gilbert is going it some, isn't he? 
 He seems greatly altered." 
 
 "Canada's not quite like England," returned 
 Strachan dryly. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Next morning the ladies remained upstairs, sleep- 
 ing off their fatigue; and, as Strachan and Gilbert 
 were both at the office all day, they did not meet the 
 young man until the evening, when he condescended 
 to dine with them, but made his apologies and left 
 immediately after for an evening of bridge at the 
 house of a man he had formerly known at Oxford. 
 
 Strachan suggested his taking a few days' holi- 
 day that he might escort the ladies about a bit. Gil- 
 bert replied that he should be delighted. But the 
 expeditions planned did not come off, as the guests 
 were snowed under by troops of visitors and showers 
 of invitations. 
 
 There ensued a round of gaieties which threatened 
 to become exhausting. Charis, clinging to her only 
 rag of an excuse for her presence there, insisted up9n 
 taking her secretarial duties very seriously; and 
 found the social round in addition somewhat 
 fatiguing. Meanwhile, Gilbert and she never met 
 but in company, and never spoke a word to one 
 another beyond what the conventions demanded. 
 
 For the first few days, knowing the man as she 
 did, Charis did not believe that he could keep it up. 
 As time went by, and he maintained his pose seem- 
 ingly without an effort, she began to realise that he
 
 296 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 meant the break to be final and complete; and to 
 regret that she had ever come to Ontario. But for 
 the consistent way in which he neglected and ignored 
 her, one might have sworn that there could never 
 have been anything between them. 
 
 Naturally, this is a game at which two can play; 
 and it did not take long to make the girl proficient. 
 Her neat avoidance of all chance of intercourse was 
 soon as complete as his. 
 
 There was, however, a fact which worried and 
 disturbed her. Pass her waking hours as diligently 
 as she might in forgetting Gilbert, the moment sleep 
 relaxed her will he passed into her dreams, and took, 
 complete possession. 
 
 In these dreams he was as devoted as, in the world 
 of fact, he was cold. So glowing, so exquisite were 
 the hours they seemed to pass together, that she 
 usually awoke penetrated utterly with the thrill of 
 them; so that each morning the clash of their es- 
 trangement was a new shock. 
 
 She took refuge more and more in the whole- 
 hearted hospitality and kindness offered her. Soon 
 it was obvious that several of the young men who 
 were in Gilbert's set found the Honourable Miss 
 Osbourne (as, to her great amusement, they per- 
 sisted in calling her on every possible occasion) very 
 attractive indeed. Strachan watched the stream of 
 bouquets and the be-ribboned boxes of sweets, and 
 wondered if jealousy would break the stubborn back 
 of the young man. He could not, however, detect 
 any signs of this.
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 297 
 
 Gilbert flirted a good deal; it seemed he could 
 always now find plenty to say to girls. 
 
 "Who," thought Charis, "who that knew him in 
 Streatwood gauche, glum, tongue-tied would 
 guess this to be the same man? Cymon indeed; 
 What a transformation!" 
 
 At last Strachan felt it time to take other steps. 
 He saw signs of serious intention on the part of 
 more than one young man; and also that Gilbert was 
 not sufficiently guarded in his behaviour, and was 
 awaking hopes for no other purpose than to punish 
 Charis. He therefore announced that he was find- 
 ing town too hot, and proposed that they should all 
 go and camp at his shooting shack at Altabec. 
 
 Sheila was enchanted at the notion. She said she 
 would far rather do this than rush around sight- 
 seeing. Charis would not express any pleasure in 
 an arrangement which must certainly tend to fling 
 Gilbert and herself together. Gilbert, however,, 
 busily fitting a new string to the banjo he was learn- 
 ing to play, regretted politely that he had already 
 accepted an invitation to stay with friends in a dif- 
 ferent direction, and doubted if he would be able to 
 come to Altabec at all. 
 
 Upon this, Charis warmly said that she thought 
 the camping-out idea quite delightful. She only 
 lamented that her visit to Canada must terminate 
 upon their return to the city, as her father wrote that 
 he needed her. She hoped that Sheila would not cut 
 short her own time on her account, as she could quite 
 easily find an escort. "I suppose," said she to
 
 298 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 Strachan, "that I ought to book my passage at once, 
 ought I not? The boats are so full!" 
 
 "If you mean that you really must go, I'll see to 
 that for you," replied Strachan gravely; "but won't 
 you wait until I have found another secretary?" 
 
 "Now that you have Mr. Brown, I should have 
 thought you did not need one. But I'll look about 
 for you, and do my best not to leave you stranded." 
 
 That night they all went to the theatre together. 
 Upon their return, when the two girls had gone up- 
 stairs, Strachan called Gilbert into his smoking-den 
 and flung himself into an easy chair. The young 
 man was restive. He stood upon the hearth, drink- 
 ing his lemon-squash, as if wishing to be gone. 
 
 "Sit down, you young fool!" said Strachan 
 sternly; and after a moment's hesitation his order 
 was unwillingly obeyed. 
 
 "Gil" after a prolonged puff at his pipe "I 
 want to say that I wish you 10 come to the camp at 
 Altabec with us." 
 
 Gilbert clenched his fists and stared at the carpet. 
 
 "Then, George, I want to say, that I'll be hanged 
 if I do. Haven't I borne enough? Haven't you 
 plunged me into hell all these weeks? And have I 
 so much as squeaked? I know the pull you have over 
 me I definitely don't want to quarrel with my bread 
 and butter but you must own there's a limit and 
 I've got there. I didn't think you'd be so infernally 
 cruel, George." 
 
 Strachan sat forward. "In what respect do you 
 charge me with infernal cruelty? Strong term!"
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 299 
 
 "Not too strong to describe what you have done 
 in bringing her here, when you knew well what the 
 sight of her means must mean to me !" 
 
 "Were you born idiotic, Gilbert? Why do you 
 suppose she is here?" 
 
 "I know that perfectly well, of course. Because 
 you are going to marry her." 
 
 The slow dark colour flooded the sensitive face to 
 the roots of the iron-grey hair. 
 
 "Dash your impertinence!" drawled Strachan. 
 "You don't seriously think it. But this I'll say to 
 you and in dead earnest that, if you don't mean 
 to seize your chance " 
 
 "My chance ! I've chucked that away." 
 
 "You unutterable young fool, she's as proud as 
 you are. She'll not easily forgive that letter you 
 wrote. But if you could persuade her to forgive it 
 well, there's a heaven waiting for you, my lad, 
 which I can't help your chucking away if you want 
 to, but which not one man in a thousand ever gets a 
 chance to enter." Rising to his feet he stood impres- 
 sively upright, frowning down upon Gilbert's flushed 
 and perturbed face. "And I warn you" slowly 
 "that, if you mean to let your paltry pride stand in 
 the way of her happiness why, then, I take a hand. 
 If begging and praying and loving and serving will 
 do it, I'll be your rival, as you have just now accused 
 me of being. So don't say you haven't been warned." 
 
 There was a long, throbbing silence. Then the 
 young man spoke, in a low voice as if to himself: 
 "I daren't. I can't risk it again. The pain was too
 
 30O The Judgment of Charis 
 
 ghastly. It makes me a coward. . . . Sometimes I 
 think I hate her, when she sweeps past me as if I 
 were not there. . . . Why, she keeps her very eyes 
 from resting on me, even by accident! And you 
 ask me to go again and offer her my heart to 
 tear. . . . 
 
 "You shall have something more than your heart 
 to offer this time, Gil," said his cousin quaintly, 
 "though I admit the article in question seems to be 
 of more value than I at first supposed. However, 
 you can now offer her a position she need not de- 
 spise. I am going to take you into partnership. I 
 am going to make an eldest son of you. And in 
 return I make but one solitary condition that you 
 drop the name of Brown, and adopt that of Strachan 
 by deed poll." 
 
 Gilbert lifted his ravaged face, and his mouth 
 quivered. "George you mean that?" 
 
 "I mean it. I shall give your mother a legacy, 
 and provide an ample annuity for the Nicholsons. 
 The rest is for you and Charis." 
 
 Suddenly Gil sprang up. "She knows this? You 
 have told her your intentions?" 
 
 Strachan smiled slowly. "What do you think? 
 No, she knows nothing of it, and cares less. She 
 herself is no great match, now that the little brother 
 has arrived; his lordship will be thankful to be let 
 off the necessity of providing a large marriage por- 
 tion. And, after all, there will be only one life be- 
 tween your heirs and the Ringland property." 
 
 "George," pleaded Gilbert shakily, "have you
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 301 
 
 reason to suppose any real ground for suggesting 
 that she cares?" 
 
 "Personal observation," was the cautious reply. 
 "She is here. I go by that." 
 
 Said Gilbert, after long silence: "I can't thank 
 you. I can't even fix my mind on what you've just 
 told me. I'm only conscious of the hope the thing 
 that's to make or break me. Will you do something 
 for me ? To give me a chance ? Let her continue to 
 think that I'm not coming to Altabec. Let me turn 
 up unexpectedly, when you've been there two or 
 three days. Play up to me arrange the stage a 
 bit." 
 
 "I get you, Gil," was the calm rejoinder. 
 
 Altabec is the most charming of shacks, with a 
 big central living-room, round which the bedrooms 
 are grouped. A covered passage on one side leads 
 to the bath building, and a similar one opposite to 
 the kitchens. 
 
 In other moods Charis would have loved the place. 
 But now it had no charm. A couple of days in the 
 solitary wilds gave her, far more poignantly than in 
 Ontario, the sense of being forsaken. Sheila was 
 learning to paddle a Canadian canoe on the pic- 
 turesque sheet of water near which the shack stood. 
 Strachan was teaching her, and this left Charis 
 lonely for many hours at a time. 
 
 On a golden afternoon of sunshine and warm air 
 she lay alone in the hammock under the veranda. 
 All the elements for comfort and luxury were there;
 
 3O2 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 she was surrounded by beauty; and its only effect 
 seemed to be to emphasise her unhappiness. 
 
 Since Gilbert's blunt refusal to join the camping 
 party, she had realised that all she had to do was to 
 collect the remnants of her pride, and make them 
 hold together until she could leave this country of 
 grief and humiliation. She had slept badly the pre- 
 vious night, and presently the seduction of the after- 
 noon peace overcame the gloom of her thoughts, 
 and she drifted into sleep. As usual "with the 
 first dream that comes with the first sleep" she was 
 with Gilbert, and all was well. She dreamed that 
 he was there, with her that she was no longer 
 alone and that they were talking with the ease and 
 intimacy of perfect harmony. "We can never quar- 
 rel any more," she thought he said. And she re- 
 plied: "No, for now we understand everything, 
 don't we?" 
 
 She spoke the last words aloud, and the sound of 
 her own voice awoke her. 
 
 She opened her eyes upon Gilbert Gilbert in the 
 attire suitable for the backwoods Gilbert so com- 
 pletely part of the picture that for a few seconds she 
 believed herself still dreaming, and smiled up from 
 her heart into his. Then with a shock she realised 
 that she was awake that he was no longer part of 
 the dream that he looked rather mischievous, and 
 that he was swinging the hammock gently to and 
 fro. 
 
 "Hushaby, Baby," he crooned; and
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 303 
 
 "What are you doing? Stop swinging me about!" 
 cried she, struggling up on her elbow. 
 
 "That all the greeting you have for a fellow who 
 has been travelling thirty hours without a break to 
 get here?" 
 
 "You needn't have hurried so. You'll have to 
 wait quite a long time. Sheila's out on the water, 
 and won't be in before dark." 
 
 "I can live without Mrs. Varick, thank you!" 
 
 "I suppose you will want some food, and so on. 
 Kindly stand away, and let me get out of this thing!" 
 
 Gilbert stooped and gathered her into his arms 
 to lift her to the ground. So taken by surprise was 
 she that she was imprudent enough to struggle, and 
 when she did that he held her tight tight. 
 
 "No use," said he. "I shan't put you down until 
 I want to. There's nobody about. The servants 
 are in the kitchens, and I have you all to myself. 
 So if I let you go, it will be on my own terms." 
 
 "Terms! Your terms forsooth!" Her voice, 
 which should have been infuriated, sounded faint 
 and shaky. "And pray, what are your terms?" 
 
 "Unconditional surrender," he whispered. 
 
 "Mr. Brown, you forget yourself !" 
 
 "I do. I can remember nothing but you. Cruel 
 wretch that you are coming out here to gloat over 
 me ! How long did you suppose I was going to stand 
 it?" 
 
 I_I wondered." 
 
 "Oh! So you did wonder?"
 
 304 The Judgment of Charis 
 
 "Well, just now and again I did. . . . Oh, Gil, 
 Gil, how hateful you have been to me!" 
 
 "I'll make up for that. I've had enough of being 
 humble one only gets trampled on. For the future 
 I am going to be very kind . . . and condescending 
 . . . I'm going to forgive you, and take you on 
 again, if you're very good." 
 
 "Forgive me, indeed! You would be far better 
 occupied if you went on your knees to beg me to 
 forgive you!" 
 
 "My knees are better occupied. The Desire of 
 my Life is enthroned thereon." And suddenly his 
 voice changed to the note she loved and dreaded 
 the voice that had conquered her in the inn by Thirl- 
 mere. "But my heart is kneeling to you, oh Be- 
 loved is asking for a sign that this isn't a delirious 
 dream. I want to be sure that I have really come 
 to the door of Heaven, and that it has opened to me 
 at last." 
 
 "It might have opened sooner had you just taken 
 the trouble to knock." 
 
 "I jolly well wasn't going to risk another rebuff." 
 
 "Neither was I! Then, what made you?" 
 
 "What made me dare to come here to-day? 
 George, of course ! He's a bit magnificent, old 
 George. He gave me the right to come, by telling 
 me that the s. d. part was his affair. 
 
 "He's wonderful!" she murmured, with remorse- 
 ful tenderness. 
 
 Her lover was not yet in a state to bear that note 
 in her voice for any other man.
 
 Dreams; and the Awakening 305 
 
 "Never mind Strachan, nor s. d., nor any other 
 old thing," he whispered. "Nothing in all the world 
 matters but you just you and me ! Let's get out 
 of sight before the others turn up let's be off into 
 the woods. I've been hanging about among the 
 trees for the past half-hour, waiting to see if you 
 would go to sleep, and I've discovered a nook over 
 there by a waterfall a seat just made for two. 
 Come, Iphigenia, come away with your shepherd 
 lad. ... Or must I carry you?" 
 
 There were two who watched, from a boat far 
 out upon the little lake, the approach of the be- 
 sieger; and who witnessed, after quite a short parley 
 at the gates, the submissive departure of the van- 
 quished. The lovers slowly disappeared among the 
 great fir-trees, moving so amicably, so evidently in 
 perfect agreement, as to leave no doubt of the suc- 
 cess of the surprise attack. 
 
 "The barriers," said George Strachan drearily, 
 "must have gone down with a run." 
 
 The soft eyes of Sheila Varick were dim with pity 
 for his pain. In the past few weeks he had aged 
 perceptibly. Recalling him as he had been when 
 they started upon their motor tour in such hilarity 
 and glad anticipation, she thought he looked ten 
 years older. 
 
 She could, however, offer only unspoken sym- 
 pathy; in such a case, what is there to be said? 
 
 She hoped and believed that after a while this 
 man might come to love as a daughter the creature 
 who had so bewitched him; but as yet such a sug-
 
 306 The Judgment of Chans 
 
 gestion would not only be of no comfort, but might 
 actually increase the bitterness of defeat. 
 
 For when a man of George Strachan's age and 
 temperament falls in love, the malady is, alas ! quite 
 likely to prove incurable. 
 
 THE END
 
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