The Week End 
 
 Handasyde
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 FOR THE WEEK-END 
 
 By HANDASYDE 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 Daily Mail. " This clever story promised 
 nay, threatened to turn into another 
 ' Visits of Elizabeth,' but we are glad to 
 say it steered safely clear of those rocks. 
 Handasyde's book developed real feeling 
 and real emotion, and emerged after a while 
 as a genuine story of passion." 
 
 Standard. "Only a woman surely 
 would write such deep and intimate truth 
 about the heart of another woman, and the 
 thing that gives her joy when a man loves 
 her." 
 
 Times. " The book does not tire, for it 
 is a bright picture of social types and 
 manners." 
 
 Scotsman. "The Week End has become 
 a notable social institution, and it has now 
 obtained recognition in fiction by a witty and 
 ingenious writer in a manne_r original, 
 amusing. . . . The drama is delicious comedy 
 ... a clever and entertaining novel of 
 society, cast in a new and piquant form." 
 
 Tribune. "It has a distinct character of 
 its own ... it is reading that is good, and 
 reading that is for the most part alive. . . . 
 The writer seems to know his world, and 
 appreciates it with a keen sense of humour." 
 
 Morning Post. " Handasyde has a clever 
 knack of describing the humorous mischiefs 
 of the leisured classes. . . . He has written a 
 book which is often entertaining and some- 
 times moving ; but he has made a mistake, 
 he has attempted the impossible task of 
 describing people not only having their cake 
 and eating it, but also regretting that they 
 have not got more."
 
 FOR THE WEEK-END
 
 FOR THE 
 WEEK-END 
 
 BY 
 
 i HANDASYDE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "FOUR GARDENS 
 
 Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 
 And men below, and saints above 5 
 For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 
 
 SCOTT. 
 
 LONDON : JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 
 NEW YORK : JOHN LANE COMPANY. MCMVII
 
 WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 PAGE 
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 11 
 
 SATURDAY 43 
 
 SUNDAY 69 
 
 MONDAY MORNING 103 
 
 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END- 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 117 
 
 SATURDAY 147 
 
 SUNDAY 175 
 
 MONDAY MORNING 207 
 
 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END- 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 225 
 
 SATURDAY . . 283 
 
 1563123
 
 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 LOOK down, dear eyes, look down, 
 
 Lest you betray her gladness. 
 Dear brows, do nought but frown, 
 
 Lest men miscall my madness. 
 
 Come not, dear hands, so near, 
 
 Lest all besides comes nearer, 
 Dear heart, hold me less dear, 
 
 Lest time hold nothing dearer. 
 
 W. E. HENLEY.
 
 1 
 
 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 Castle Loftus. 
 
 down train had just come into a little 
 wayside station, and a varied assortment of 
 luggage lay scattered about the platform. 
 A porter and a tall footman stood to survey 
 the pile as the train streamed away into the rosy mist ; 
 it was a mild autumn evening gathering to dusk, the 
 pink glow in the sky making the shades of night all the 
 more opaque. 
 
 " This 'ere lot all for the Castle ? " asked the porter. 
 " D'ye think we 'aven't got our share ? " answered 
 the tall footman, with the sarcasm of the great. 
 
 The first shoot at Castle Loftus was a small event 
 in its way, for Eddy Eaton's coverts were famous, 
 and no one whose fame as a sportsman was not assured 
 had any chance of being included in the party. The 
 Castle folk meanwhile took their own time ; they 
 were accustomed to take things easily, and knew 
 nothing of the sudden dash and flurry that usually 
 assails the flustered individual who arrives by rail. 
 
 " The carriage is waiting, sir," a servant had once 
 ventured to remind Mr. Eddy Eaton.
 
 14 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Let it wait ; that's what the coachman is paid for," 
 he had replied. 
 
 Wellington Cumberland Guest, or " Welcome " Guest, 
 as his more intimate friends preferred to call him, stood 
 on the middle of the platform winding up his watch, a 
 duty he was too apt to forget. " Take care of the 
 present moment, and the past must take care of itself," 
 he murmured to himself, as he set it by the station 
 clock. His past had need to perhaps, but Wellington 
 Guest relied always on the promise of the morrow, and 
 never let anything dim the gay careless expression in 
 his pleasant blue eyes. He was so handsome and so 
 accommodating, no one could help being glad to see 
 him, and was quite as devoted to his world as it was 
 to him, while his amazing spirits under every species 
 of adversity left the ordinary grumbler dumb. 
 
 " I never wind up my watch," said the Duchess of 
 Sunsutton, joining him. " I hate things you have to go 
 on doing day after day, they make me so tired." 
 
 " There are some things I never get tired of," he 
 answered. " Getting letters with cheques inside them, 
 and speaking to duchesses." 
 
 Angela Sunsutton rubbed her shapely chin against 
 the fur collar on her big coat, and smiled graciously to 
 show she appreciated the point of his remark ; she was 
 not bashful, and always acknowledged courtesies. 
 
 Wellington chatted on : " The brim of your hat's too 
 big, and it's getting so dark, I can only see the outline 
 of your face hard lines you know, when I should so 
 much like to see more." 
 
 " I hope you don't mean the lines on my face are
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 15 
 
 getting hard? I always thought my face was so 
 soft." 
 
 " So it is I mean I should like to make sure it is. 
 What am I saying ? I mean, I'm sure it is ! " 
 
 " Gustavus has told me so," Angela answered, in 
 dignified reproof; while Wellington endeavoured to 
 look sober, and began inquiring politely after the Duke 
 of Sunsutton's health. 
 
 But he still kept his eyes fixed on her face, and 
 Angela, who enjoyed admiration, gave a considerate 
 little push to the drooping brim of her hat. There were 
 many people who thought her face quite the prettiest in 
 England; she thought so herself, and was never tired 
 of recognizing her own portrait in the picture magazines. 
 
 " Come," said Wellington, " I want to show you the 
 most beautiful woman I know." 
 
 "Is it a looking-glass?" she asked sweetly, being 
 used to remarks in the same happy vein. 
 
 "It's Country Life did you know? You should 
 always be lit by electric light," he answered, as he led 
 her to the bookstall, where the obsequious man in charge 
 had already opened the magazine at the full-page 
 frontispiece. 
 
 While they lingered, Blanche Heythrop wandered 
 off by herself to the end of the platform where the gun- 
 cases were scattered about. 
 
 She looked at the initials on one or two, but ap- 
 parently drew them blank ; they all seemed to belong 
 to her husband and Major Royle. At which moment the 
 major himself came up to ask if he could do anything 
 for her, and as he did so he knocked against a suit-case.
 
 16 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Mortimer Keppel ! " he exclaimed. " Didn't know 
 he was back in England." 
 
 " Oh yes, sir, he's coming down by the late train," 
 Keppel's servant answered, as he bore off his master's 
 share of the luggage. 
 
 Mrs. Heythrop had evidently also found what she 
 had gone to seek. 
 
 " Didn't you know he was back? " she remarked, as 
 she and Major Eoyle moved away. 
 
 It seemed a dozen years, instead of one, since she 
 had seen Mortimer Keppel, and her heart was full of 
 another autumn evening, little more than a twelvemonth 
 ago, when she and Mortimer had walked up and down 
 together in the gloom of an empty shed in the docks at 
 Southampton. There had been just the same glow in 
 the sky, and she had watched the reflection dancing on 
 the waves of Southampton Water; how sorrowful she 
 had been, and how despairing and sad to-night she 
 was so glad, her feet scarcely touched the earth. 
 
 " I may never come back," Mortimer had said, 
 tentatively, as he stopped for a moment and looked 
 down at her pale face. " Won't you kiss me, Blanche ? " 
 he asked simply. Mortimer Keppel never beat about 
 the bush. 
 
 " It doesn't make .much difference what I do," she 
 had answered, with a little sob ; those Saturday after- 
 noons at; Southampton Docks during the Boer War 
 unnerved many sensible women. 
 
 "I may never come back, what will it all matter 
 then ? You would only be sorry you had treated me so 
 ill," he pleaded again.
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 17 
 
 " Where is Miles ? " Blanche asked. It was a childish 
 remark, but she was overwrought and all primitive 
 woman that day. Musing for a moment longer on the 
 chance of every bullet finding its billet, she held Keppel 
 at arm's length. "You may never come back," she 
 echoed, using his own argument in a voice even chance 
 acquaintances found strangely charming and sweet. 
 Then she relaxed her hold, and Mortimer Keppel stooped 
 down. 
 
 " What did you say ? How did you get on ? " Miles 
 had asked afterwards, when the great liner, with her 
 grey hull and red funnels, slipped out to sea, and they 
 turned away together. " Did you kiss him ? " he asked ; 
 Miles always wanted to know what Blanche had been 
 doing. 
 
 " He may never come back, what else could any one 
 do ? " she answered, and it needed all her strength of 
 will to speak in her usual tone. 
 
 But Miles never noticed the stiffening of her upper 
 lip, or the painful catch in her breath. Mightily amused 
 at her style of reasoning, he had looked at her and 
 laughed. 
 
 " You are certainly not overburdened with sentiment, 
 Blanche ! " he had said, thinking to himself how well he 
 understood his wife. 
 
 That memorable little scene in the shed by South- 
 ampton Water had haunted Blanche ever since. It was 
 the first time she had ever kissed Mortimer Keppel ; 
 to-night she was oddly stirred, and she blushed for her 
 own vagrant fancy as she wondered if she would ever 
 kiss him again. She could think of nothing but
 
 18 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 Mortimer, and scarcely started when Angela Sunsutton 
 touched her arm, and asked her anxiously if Mr. Keppel 
 was coming down ? 
 
 "I believe so," Blanche said gently, for she knew 
 the duchess was also thinking of Southampton Docks 
 and the heaving sea that had so quickly separated the 
 liner from the shore. 
 
 Angela had been there to say good-bye to Charlie. 
 With the face of a god, and the jolly simplicity of a 
 schoolboy, Charlie was admittedly the handsomest youth 
 in the British Army. Motherless and fatherless, the 
 kind-hearted duchess had always been his best friend, 
 and up to the last moment she had busied herself with 
 his comforts, thoughtfully supplying him with condensed 
 chocolate, quinine powders, a leather Prayer-book, and 
 the most expensive brand of cigarettes on the market. 
 They had loved each other dearly, and she had tried to 
 think of everything he could possibly want. And Charlie 
 never came back, the dear familiar Charlie who had 
 shared with her so much harmless fun, and returned 
 her sympathy and loving-kindness in such a whole- 
 hearted way; it was too fond a friendship for such a 
 cruel blow, and the gay-spirited duchess had accepted 
 it in a puzzled state of sore distress. Mortimer Keppel 
 had been with him when he died, it was he who sent 
 her the sudden news ; but she had not seen him since 
 his return, and was full of sorrowful eagerness to hear 
 all those pathetic details he alone could tell. 
 
 " He knew Charlie," she told Blanche softly, and the 
 shadow of death brooded for a moment over her lovely 
 face.
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 19 
 
 " They've sent a brougham and an open bus, how 
 are you going to drive ? " asked Major Eoyle. 
 
 Erratic in even her saddest moods, Angela forgot 
 Charlie, and remembered only her golden locks, and the 
 standard of perfection she felt herself bound to maintain. 
 
 "It's as damp as damp; I think we three can all 
 get into the brougham," she said a trifle fretfully, as 
 she looked from Lady Mabel's smooth, somewhat severe 
 locks to the natural waves of Blanche's brown hair. 
 
 " Won't you come with me, Mrs. Heythrop ? " begged 
 Major Eoyle. " I sent on my car, and it's waiting for 
 me outside, if you would care to come." 
 
 Blanche Heythrop lived much of her life in the open 
 air, and mostly left her looks to take care of themselves ; 
 she agreed at once, glad enough to be a little longer out 
 of doors. The evening was delightfully soft, and her 
 boundless happiness would have seemed shut away in 
 the confinement of a brougham. 
 
 The duchess and Lady Mabel, marvelling somewhat 
 at her temerity, drove off then. 
 
 " I should be afraid of all the curl coming out of my 
 hair," said Angela. 
 
 " There never was any in mine none of our family 
 know how to do their hair," Lady Mabel answered 
 resignedly. 
 
 She was always resigned, if a person of so little in- 
 dividuality could be said to have any characteristics 
 at all. Yet she went everywhere, and every one asked 
 her about ; it had become a sort of habit, and in a 
 brilliant assembly her negative virtues were sometimes 
 quite a relief. During her father's life they had always
 
 20 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 visited together, his popularity had been a byword, and 
 anything that was his must be acceptable for that 
 reason alone. Lady Mabel still continued to accept the 
 invitations that now came only for her, to do so was 
 almost mechanical ; but whether she enjoyed the visits 
 or regretted too late that her identity had been swamped, 
 no one ever knew. She never spoke about herself it 
 was not done in her family. 
 
 " Where is Miles ? " asked Major Eoyle, as he turned 
 his car sharply into the narrow country road. 
 
 "Attending a meeting in the City. He is coming 
 down by the later train." 
 
 " Lucky fellow Miles ! I wish I knew how to make 
 money ! I always envy business men, and he's just the 
 type who'll develop into a millionaire before he's done." 
 
 " I hope so, I'm sure ! At present we're no richer than 
 our neighbours," Mrs. Heythrop answered, as she turned 
 her head to admire the pink evening sky. 
 
 " What are you looking at ? " he asked. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Blanche, for the glory of an 
 autumn sunset was not the sort of thing to enter into 
 Major Eoyle's philosophy. 
 
 She had learnt long ago that Mortimer Keppel was 
 the only man who ever understood anything ; but it did 
 not upset her equanimity, and only made her all the 
 more tolerant with Miles, for circumstances are ofttimes 
 stronger than individuals, and Blanche was well aware 
 of the limitations of life. 
 
 Castle Loftus was a stately abode that yet somehow 
 suggested a fairy story. It was built of gleaming white
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 21 
 
 stone, and stood in a grove of ilex and cedar trees, on 
 the edge of a cliff by the sea. Sea birds were tossed by 
 the salt wind across the great lawns ; on clear days the 
 Isle of Wight was visible, and always at night the 
 revolving light on the Needles a brilliant ruby that 
 winked for one moment and then came again. The 
 Castle had been in the Eaton family for many genera- 
 tions ; it had various historical associations, and had 
 always been famous as a royalist stronghold; never, 
 indeed, more so than at the present day, when sundry 
 immature saplings, planted by royal visitors, were the 
 crowning glory of the main avenue. It had been said 
 of the Castle that it was " externally a poem in stone" 
 it was quite as impracticable as poetry inside, all the 
 accommodation having been sacrificed to a huge hall. 
 The hall was superb of its kind, but there was no 
 drawing-room ; a small octagonal room under one of 
 the staircases was used as such, while a rather wide 
 corridor, connecting two of the wings, had been con- 
 verted into a dining-room. The inmates of Castle 
 Loftus spent most of their time on the stairs in the 
 hall ; the staircases were a feature of the place, and 
 every one sat there. The stairs were broad and shallow, 
 and delicately built ; there were four flights, each pair 
 being connected by a broad landing halfway up, the 
 landing acting as a sort of keystone, and being the chief 
 beauty of the perfectly balanced design. 
 
 Blanche Heythrop, who said she was not afraid, had 
 been put to sleep in the ghost's room. She felt imper- 
 vious to ghosts or anything else that night, her mind was 
 fully occupied with a different subject, and she drew
 
 22 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 aside the blind to see which way the window faced. It 
 looked towards the front drive, so that she would be sure 
 to hear Mortimer arrive, and she heaved a short sigh of 
 satisfaction. But she did not draw the blind aside again 
 when the brougham actually drove up, and she heard 
 all the clatter of an arrival at the entrance down below 
 there was no more uncertainty now or anything to fear. 
 She sang to herself, however, from pure lightheartedness, 
 and wished her hair were always as easy to arrange 
 as it was that night. Then the carriage drove away 
 again, slowly towards the stables, and presently her 
 husband came to her room. 
 
 " Did you know Mortimer Keppel was here ? " he 
 asked. " We travelled down together. He looks as fit 
 as a fiddle, but he's leaner than ever ; only wish I knew 
 his secret ! " 
 
 Blanche laughed. " Oh, you're all right," she said 
 consolingly, for Miles's figure was a point of some delicacy. 
 
 He drew himself up and looked in the glass. " Glad 
 you think so, I'm sure. I told you I had lost a pound, 
 didn't I ? You're looking very well yourself, Blanche ; I 
 like the way you've done your hair." 
 
 Blanche shook her head. " It's the same as usual," 
 she said. 
 
 Mental excitement, as likewise physical depression, 
 always affected her hair ; but she could scarcely explain 
 it all to Miles, or tell him just why it was so crisp and 
 curly that night. 
 
 " Well, I went to see my dear father," Miles con- 
 tinued briskly, "and found him very bad, very bad 
 indeed, a good bit worse than I expected."
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 23 
 
 " Poor old man, I hope he doesn't suffer ? " she asked 
 kindly. 
 
 There had seemed so little sorrow in Miles's rather 
 exultant voice ; and Blanche would have been sorry for 
 a beetle to suffer that night. 
 
 " Suffer, did you say ? Let us hope not most 
 probably not ; but, 'pon my soul, I really forgot to 
 ask." 
 
 All the while Miles talked he continued to peram- 
 bulate the room. He disliked keeping still, and if he 
 paused it was only to pick up and handle everything on 
 the dressing-table in a restless sort of manner calcu- 
 lated to provoke most women dressing in rather a hurry 
 for dinner, but Blanche was used to it. 
 
 "I saw the doctor," continued Miles; "they were 
 having a consultation, and I arrived just in time. ' You'll 
 wait and hear what they say, sir,' the butler said. 
 'Why, you fool, that's the very thing I've come for ! ' 
 I answered. I hoped he'd tell his lordship, you 
 see. Then I dropped into a big armchair in the hall, 
 looking absolutely miserable and so nervous I jumped 
 at every sound. I did it all to impress old Dowden, of 
 course, who was looking like an undertaker himself, 
 and snivelling in a corner whenever I looked his way, 
 so I didn't see why he should have all the credit to him- 
 self. After all, I'm the old man's son." 
 
 Miles paused for a moment to shift one of the 
 candles, dropping as he did so a good deal of grease 
 over the links of Blanche's fine gold chain. 
 
 " It was rather slow work, I can tell you. The 
 doctors were such an unconscionable time ; and the awful
 
 24 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 part of it was, when they did come downstairs, I was read- 
 ing Sporting Life. I pitched it away, of course, at once, 
 and Dowden had the tact to pass me Jeremy Taylor's 
 sermons instead, so I don't think they saw, and I went 
 on wringing Arnold-Pryce's hand quite too distracted to 
 talk. They hemmed and hawed and coughed by way 
 of letting me down gently; but I believe it is all up 
 with the old man this time. They didn't wish to alarm 
 me, they said very nicely, but there was no concealing 
 the fact that Lord Heythorp could scarcely rally after 
 such an acute attack." 
 
 "What did you say ?" asked Blanche, as she poked 
 diligently at the wax encrusted in her little gold chain 
 with a small pearl-headed pin. 
 
 " I can't remember what I said exactly, but I think 
 I quoted bits of the Burial Service. I said, * For better, 
 for worse,' and 'till death do us part,' and things of 
 that sort ; and Dowden said ' Amen,' so I suppose it was 
 all right." 
 
 Blanche laughed. " You never could quote, Miles 
 that was the wedding service," she said. 
 
 " What's the odds if it is ? " he answered, very little 
 perturbed by his mistake. " It's so long since I was 
 married, and I've never been buried. Anyway, it 
 impressed that oily old hypocrite, Dowden, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 " And did you see your father ? Did he know you ? " 
 
 " I went upstairs, if you mean that, and he appeared 
 much more vigorous than I expected, and recognized 
 me at once. * Is that you, Miles ? ' he said. ' I'm not 
 dying yet ; and remember, if I were, you are the last
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 25 
 
 person I should wish to see.' I thought he was wander- 
 ing at first, but the nurse wouldn't hear a word of it. 
 'His lordship's very lucid and clear in his head this 
 morning,' she remarked ; so I thought I had best clear 
 out. But Arnold-Pryce has promised to send me a 
 wire to-morrow, and there's no saying what it may be." 
 " You will be late for dinner, Miles," Blanche 
 responded dryly. Old Lord Heythrop had never behaved 
 to Miles like a father, and she knew it was useless to 
 expect Miles to behave like a son. 
 
 "I put off ordering the new livery. I thought I 
 might just as well wait a bit longer," Miles continued, 
 practically. Twitching the table while he spoke, he upset 
 a bottle of scent. " By the way, have you seen this 
 week's Country Life ? " he asked, as he endeavoured to 
 sop up '.the scent with a pair of suede gloves, the first 
 thing that came to hand. " There's such a charming 
 picture of the duchess in it. My word, she looks more 
 beautiful than ever ! Mortimer told me she was here ; 
 he seemed to know all the party, and asked if you had 
 gone down with the rest by the early train." 
 
 " Miles, you will be late for dinner. You know you 
 can't dress in ten minutes," Blanche replied. Then 
 she turned away to fasten her chain. " How did Mor- 
 timer know I was here ? " she asked. 
 
 But Miles was a great deal more interested in his 
 own affairs. 
 
 "I say, Blanche, did Angela know I was coming 
 down by the express ? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 " You generally know each other's movements, don't 
 you?" said Blanche. "She's expecting a present
 
 26 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 from you, I believe, to make up for forgetting her 
 birthday." 
 
 " It's rather a handsome present," he admitted, a 
 little shamefacedly. Then he looked at his watch, and 
 ejaculating, " Heavens, my dear, I shall be late for 
 dinner ! " went off at length, dragging a chiffon scarf 
 with him, and sweeping all Blanche's rings on to the 
 floor. 
 
 Blanche went slowly down one of the broad stair- 
 cases, wishing to herself the present hour would last 
 for ever. She had done nothing to secure such good 
 measure, it was the fates that were propitious, for 
 here it was thrust into her hand, pressed down, and 
 literally running over a goodly week-end of three 
 nights and two whole days, which seemed for the 
 moment an eternity of time. Nothing but sudden 
 death could prevent her meeting Mortimer Keppel in a 
 few minutes more, and she had never felt more acutely 
 alive in her life. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton, who always made a point of being 
 in time for dinner when there were visitors at the 
 Castle, was standing by the fireplace speaking earnestly 
 to her eldest daughter. But Victoria was not to be 
 easily entreated, and the arrogant pout on her young, 
 blooming face only intensified as her mother talked on. 
 
 " Inchgarvie is devoted to you, you know he is, and 
 prepared to settle anything in reason, so why worry 
 yourself about his hair and eyes ? Men with red hair 
 are sure to have sandy eyelashes ; it's all in keeping, 
 whether you like it or no." 
 
 "He is so slow and silly, and hasn't got two ideas
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 27 
 
 in his head. Men who are devoted in that sort of way 
 are so dull; I would much rather marry Welcome 
 Guest." 
 
 "As to that, my dear, it's no sort of argument ; we 
 would all rather marry Welcome if it were merely a 
 matter of choice ! But you know as well as I how 
 necessary money is, and any one will tell you about 
 Welcome's debts, they are public property." 
 
 The little horde of maxims with which Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton was endeavouring to preach down her daughter's 
 heart, had not yet come to an end, but Victoria shrugged 
 her shoulders with much impatience, and lounged back 
 in her big armchair. 
 
 "I loathe the whole thing, and hate everybody," 
 she remarked vindictively, as she gave the cushions 
 an aggressive thump. 
 
 Blanche Heythrop had stopped by one of the tables 
 in the hall to examine the various books that were 
 scattered about. She was an omnivorous reader, and 
 handled the volumes with the touch of a connoisseur. 
 Burke, Debrett, and Kelly's "Landed Gentry" the 
 writing-table held the usual pile of standards, more furni- 
 ture than literature ; Bradshaw, Whittaker, and some 
 odd green volumes of Tennyson's Poems, into which she 
 dipped for a moment as a relief from the statistical hand- 
 books. She had a considerable knowledge of poetry, 
 and could read it all from Milton to Kipling's last ode. 
 Victoria sat up as she came towards the fireplace. 
 
 "How can you read poetry, Mrs. Heythrop?" she 
 exclaimed. " I should as soon think of reading Shake- 
 speare or the Times"
 
 28 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " But Shakespeare is poetry, isn't it ? " objected Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton, doubtfully. 
 
 " It doesn't rhyme, if it is," answered her daughter; 
 while Blanche, who was not without information on the 
 subject, concluded she might just as well keep it to 
 herself. 
 
 " I can read almost anything, provided it is what I 
 can understand," she murmured apologetically. 
 
 " I can understand nothing, unless it has happened 
 under my own eyes. I suppose that's why I don't read," 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton said, as though she had suddenly dis- 
 covered some great truth. Then she turned to Blanche. 
 "Has your husband arrived, Mrs. Heythrop? The 
 fast train is generally punctual, and I thought I heard 
 the carriage while I was dressing. Do come here and help 
 me to make this foolish child hear reason. I am trying 
 to convince her there is nothing so silly as to think of 
 marrying without there is plenty of money. You agree 
 with me, I am sure ; she won't believe what I say." 
 
 " Whom do you want her to marry ? Is it Mortimer 
 Keppel ? " Blanche asked, with an indifferent smile, as 
 it occurred to her this was perhaps why he had been 
 asked to the Castle. 
 
 " Who is Mr. Keppel? I don't know him," Victoria 
 answered, as she shook her head. 
 
 " No, no, don't confuse her by suggesting Mr. Keppel ; 
 he's all very well, but Inchgarvie is the man I mean," 
 interrupted Mrs. Eddy Eaton. " He comes in for all the 
 Forthburgh estates, to say nothing of his mother's money, 
 and if Victoria would but be decently civil, she could bring 
 him to the point in less than no time. But they're all
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 29 
 
 the same, these girls, so selfish, they think of no one but 
 themselves ; and so spoilt, they won't do what they're 
 told, even when it's for their own good. I've nothing to 
 do with it, it's the Eaton temperament all through, and 
 entirely the fault of their father." 
 
 " It's entirely the fault of the men always being the 
 wrong ones. If he ever was the right one, any fool 
 would be glad enough to marry him at once," objected 
 Victoria, rather sulkily; she was still thinking of 
 Wellington Cumberland Guest. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton followed the same train of thought. 
 "It's looks I think myself; looks have a most extra- 
 ordinary effect on most women especially Welcome's. 
 I can't explain how it is, but the fact remains, that if 
 a man has blue eyes really blue eyes, I mean he is 
 bound to be good looking." 
 
 Wellington Guest's gay, careless, irresistible eyes 
 were as blue as veronica. 
 
 " He can be good-looking without blue eyes," objected 
 Blanche ; she was thinking of Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 " But I don't know what's come over men," Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton continued ; " they do everything except fall 
 in love, they're all so clever and so wary. They must 
 be caught in their childhood, or else in their dotage, if 
 anything's to be made of them nowadays. Can you tell 
 me how it is that it is always the men you don't want 
 who propose, and never the ones you do ? " 
 
 " Perhaps because the things we want usually come 
 too late," replied Blanche, leaning against the high 
 mantelpiece and gazing rather thoughtfully into the fire. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton regarded her speechlessly for a
 
 30 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 few moments, in that way ordinary people do when they 
 unexpectedly recognize the indication of brains they 
 were all, indeed, growing a little profound, according to 
 their different lights. Then she went on again. 
 
 "It is so silly of people to preach the doctrine of 
 marrying for love just as though love were a permanent 
 state ! The most charming husband in the world, 
 with the noblest intentions, can't give you everything 
 you want, whereas his money can that is, if he's got 
 enough of it which proves that the income should come 
 before the man. Now, though it may sound a little 
 mercenary, the only thing in the world I really care about 
 is money." 
 
 Blanche smiled. Mrs. Eddy Eaton was always so 
 scrupulously honest. 
 
 " I thought you had a good deal," she said. 
 
 " Not near enough for the present age ! What is 
 our income, Victoria? I always forget, and in any 
 case, it's always overdrawn. Eddy could tell us in a 
 minute, he always remembers those sort of things, at 
 such awkward moments, too, just when one has arranged 
 to go to Paris to buy new clothes." 
 
 She sighed a little over the battle of life, but the 
 rest of the guests beginning to assemble, she gave her 
 daughter a friendly little nod, and Victoria who was, 
 after all, no fool shook out her rose-tinted robes, and 
 went off with a nonchalant air and a very bad grace to 
 make herself agreeable to Lord Inchgarvie, who had 
 just come down, and whose wistful smile of deprecating 
 delight only rendered the daughter of the house more 
 furious than she was before. " Why are peers such
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 31 
 
 idiots and penniless commoners so divine ? " she mur- 
 mured to herself in vexation of spirit. 
 
 " What do you bet, Mrs. Heythrop, that Miles will be 
 down before Keppel ? " asked Major Eoyle, as he came 
 towards Blanche. 
 
 Major Eoyle loved to play ducks and drakes with his 
 money, and seldom found any event so small but that it 
 was worth a wager. 
 
 " I don't bet anything at all I know he won't be 
 first, he never is, for one thing ! He's bound to be late, 
 he was talking in my room up to the very last moment. 
 I always pity his man," Blanche added ; "he never 
 goes to dress till it's too late, and then swears at him 
 all the time, as if it was his fault." 
 
 She paused, and Major Eoyle turned round ; every 
 one there had turned round, and the boldest held his 
 breath for a time as the Duchess of Sunsutton sailed 
 gracefully into the hall, with a soft rustle like the silken 
 wings of many butterflies, and a delicate scent like an 
 elusive dream of roses. She looked like a rose-coloured 
 dream herself, mistily veiled with lace and sparkling 
 with jewels ; she moved with the easiest grace, fully 
 conscious of the pleasure she was conferring as she 
 stood apologizing to her hostess for being so late with 
 all the pretty concentration of a child. Her appearance 
 was beyond criticism or praise, and every man present 
 gazed his fill ; all but one, that is to say, who had only 
 that moment come downstairs, and he looked straight 
 across at Blanche Heythrop, who was replacing Tenny- 
 son's Poems on the writing-table. He was absolutely 
 blind to the close proximity of the dazzling duchess,
 
 32 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 and instead of the brilliant hall, only longed again for 
 the privacy of the dingy shed by Southampton Water 
 and a repetition of that tender scene -with Blanche that 
 had left such a fond impression on his mind. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton was a consummate hostess, but it 
 never occurred to her Blanche would mind which of the 
 men took her in to dinner ; she thought Major Eoyle as 
 suitable as any other, so that Blanche and Mortimer 
 only met in passing, and as her hand rested for a 
 moment in his they found it hard to realize that this 
 was at length the meeting they had both so keenly anti- 
 cipated all through the weary days of the interminable 
 African campaign. 
 
 "How do you do?" said Blanche, with habitual 
 friendliness. " I am so glad you have come home 
 safely. Miles told me he met you in the train." 
 
 And Miles himself, who knew her so well, could 
 scarcely have detected any change of countenance as 
 she held out her hand. Yet she was almost childishly 
 happy ; a red carpet should have been laid down, if she 
 had had her way, with a band near by playing " God 
 save the King." It seemed so irreconcilable that they 
 should meet again so quietly, that he should come 
 downstairs and cross the hall and take her hand as if 
 they had only parted yesterday, and as if this meeting 
 again were of no particular moment to either; she 
 hoped at least she had kept her own face sufficiently 
 under control she had not dared to look at his. But 
 when people really understand, their words at such 
 moments are of little account, and Mortimer was quite 
 as elated as Blanche. All through the subsequent meal
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 33 
 
 they were each of them keenly conscious of the other's 
 presence. Such physical well-being had not held Mor- 
 timer for long, while to Blanche it seemed as though 
 she were not on earth nor yet in heaven, though 
 perilously near the latter place, and she wondered how 
 it would all end. Though separated by lamps and 
 flowers and the buzz of conversation, he now and then 
 caught a tone of her voice so different to any one 
 else's that all the roar and clangour of war had never 
 drowned out of his ears, and once or twice she glanced 
 in his direction, so that Major Eoyle asked again, as he 
 had asked about the sunset, " What is it ? What are 
 you looking at ? " 
 
 Miles Heythrop came down late he was seldom in 
 time for any meal and at once plunged into a detailed 
 account of his visit to his father. 
 
 " Poor old man," he remarked, as the whole of the 
 first course was delayed on purpose for him-" poor old 
 man ! He has not always played the game with me, but 
 I'm glad now I've been such a good son." 
 
 " It's the first time I've heard of you in that role ! " 
 some one objected. 
 
 But Miles only shook his head gravely. " I don't 
 
 want to overdo the thing," he observed, " but you may 
 
 depend upon it, the more you honour your parents, the 
 
 better it is for you especially if the estate is not 
 
 entailed." 
 
 " I hope you mean to remember your friends when 
 
 you come into your kingdom," cried Wellington Guest ; 
 
 while Miles went on to the episode of Jeremy Taylor 
 
 and Sporting Life.
 
 34 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 When dinner was over and every one rose, Keppel 
 drew back his chair and bent forward, so that he might 
 speak a word to Blanche. 
 
 " You dropped your handkerchief in the hall ; you'll 
 find it inside Tennyson's Poems on the writing-table." 
 
 " Thank you so much," said Blanche. "I thought 
 it was gone this time ; I could not remember where it 
 was lost." 
 
 " You forgot I had come home ! " he said reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 But Blanche shook her head. " It was the only 
 thing I remembered ! " she answered. She might have 
 forgotten a thousand things, but she had not forgotten 
 that! 
 
 She went to the writing-table in the hall at once, 
 and recovered her handkerchief; but she did not close 
 the book, for where it had been thrust into the volume 
 she noticed a large " M" had been recently written in 
 Mortimer's handwriting, and a cross against one of the 
 verses in " Maud." She took up the book to read the 
 verse and see what he meant, and as she read her 
 colour rose, and a sudden glint of tears came into her eyes. 
 
 " Maud, made my Maud by that long loving kiss, 
 Life of my life, wilt thou not answer this ? " 
 
 "What can I answer?" she murmured. "How 
 could he remember such a little thing ! " 
 
 She shut up the book quickly and put it away at the 
 foot of the pile ; she was rather glad to think none of 
 the Eaton family had ever opened the book, nor would 
 they ever be likely to do so at any future date.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 35 
 
 Mortimer came straight towards her the moment 
 the men came into the hall. 
 
 "Did you get your handkerchief? " he asked. 
 
 " How could you, Mortimer ! " she answered. 
 
 " Did you notice anything ? " he persisted. 
 
 " I noticed nothing ! " she declared. 
 
 " You have not changed in the least, Blanche," he 
 said, regarding her attentively. 
 
 " Tell me about the fighting," she began breath- 
 lessly. " I am so glad you got two medals." 
 
 But Mortimer Keppel was too proud a man to speak 
 much about himself, even to Blanche. 
 
 " What have you been doing ? That is much more 
 interesting. Did you cry when I went away ? " 
 
 Blanche nodded her head silently ; it was not often 
 she cried, and she had no wish to dwell on that painful 
 recollection. 
 
 " Odious meeting again among this crowd of people, 
 isn't it ? " he remarked. 
 
 "You've come back, and you haven't been killed. 
 I don't see that the people matter." 
 
 "You don't? I do, then," answered Keppel; and 
 Blanche dropped her eyes before the expression on his 
 face. 
 
 " Did you have a bath every day ? " she demanded 
 hastily, to ease the situation. 
 
 Keppel laughed. " Hot and cold water laid on oh 
 yes, we had all that sort of thing." 
 
 "I can't imagine you dirty," said Blanche, almost 
 for the first time that night looking straight at the 
 immaculate Keppel.
 
 36 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " There used to be men in England who could boast 
 they had tubbed themselves each morning since they 
 were born ; there ain't many left who can say that 
 now," he replied. 
 
 It was safer to talk of bathing than the horrors of 
 war or the pangs of affection. Mortimer's eyes were 
 growing to wear a misty look nevertheless, and Blanche, 
 who had seen that look there before, found her breath 
 growing short. 
 
 "Blanche, are you as fond of me as ever?" he 
 asked very quietly. 
 
 It was difficult to speak, with so many people so close 
 at hand ; but Major Eoyle and Angela were playing a 
 game called " Babbits," the sympathetic nature of which 
 had, for the moment, focussed the attention of every 
 one else. 
 
 " Fonder, I'm afraid. I knew it the minute I saw 
 your suit-case at the station, and when you came down- 
 stairs it was worse than ever." 
 
 "Why don't you say for better, not for worse ? You 
 seem to have forgotten the whole point of the Marriage 
 Service." 
 
 " It hasn't much to do with us in any case," she 
 answered ; which reminded her of Miles, dropping glibly 
 into the Marriage Service in the belief he was quoting 
 from the Burial of the Dead, and they laughed together 
 over his mistake. 
 
 " I should like to look at your face for half an hour, 
 yet I daren't look for half a minute," she exclaimed, in 
 duly modulated tones. 
 
 " Why not ? Why don't you, Blanche ? I've never
 
 FBIDAY NIGHT 37 
 
 taken my eyes off your face since I caine into the 
 hall." 
 
 " That's why ! " she answered briefly ; nor would she 
 explain. 
 
 His eyes told their own emphatic tale more em- 
 phatic than speech, and much more eloquent. Speech 
 comes slowly to some men, but the desire of the eyes 
 comes to all, and can never be misinterpreted. 
 
 Not that speech came slowly to Mortimer. " I like 
 your dress," he observed. 
 
 " I thought you would," she answered ; " you always 
 liked lace." 
 
 They spoke about such little things ; but they were 
 together again it was all that signified. 
 
 " Are you sure you've come back ? Oh, Mortimer, 
 if you knew how I used to tear through the list of 
 casualties, and how terrified I used to be ! Once I came 
 to a man called Morton Kennedy he was killed. It 
 made my heart stand quite still." 
 
 " Is that why you've got so thin ? You are thinner, I 
 believe. You shouldn't have worried like that where was 
 the good? The whole thing was a toss-up from beginning 
 to end. But I hope you prayed for me," he continued; 
 " and I hope you didn't plump me into the Litany, but 
 that you prayed for me in prayers of your own." 
 
 " I can't tell you how I prayed ; it's sacred." 
 
 " That's all right. I like to have a collect to myself 
 like the King ; I hate being classed in a bunch with all 
 the Royal Family." 
 
 " I'm dying to say so many things," she responded, 
 half under her breath.
 
 38 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Say them, beloved, and for one moment let me 
 hold your hand." 
 
 The little Empire couch on which they sat just held 
 two, and her pretty white hand rested on the cushioned 
 seat very close to his. 
 
 " Please don't," she cried ; " it's much too light." 
 
 " Oh, Blanche, what a shovel ! you've never done 
 anything in the dark in your life ! " 
 
 She looked furtively at his lean, brown hand, resting 
 so firmly on the back of the seat, and asked him how 
 he knew. 
 
 " By your face you've got such a sinless face. It's 
 not that you look ignorant or innocent, or the least 
 domestic or green ; I don't mean that ; but you always 
 look to me as if you could touch pitch without becoming 
 soiled." 
 
 "Perhaps it's soap and water; I use a great deal 
 of soap." 
 
 " Perhaps it is," he agreed. " Cleanliness can be a 
 metaphor, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Angela used to send Charlie violet soap and 
 chocolates by every mail," she remarked, afraid lest 
 Mortimer's conversation should become more personal 
 still. " Poor Charlie ! " she murmured. 
 
 " Poor Charlie ! " he repeated ; " I'd rather not speak 
 of him yet. Can't I get out of it, Blanche ? " 
 
 " Poor Angela, she's counting on it so ! " Blanche 
 began. 
 
 But Miles had come in search of her ; he wanted 
 her to make a fourth at bridge ; and Angela Sunsutton 
 had come to look for Keppel. All the pretty gaiety had
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 39 
 
 gone from her beautiful face, and her eyes were full of 
 tears. 
 
 " You knew Charlie," she said, with a most pathetic 
 catch in her voice. "Can't we sit down? I feel a 
 little faint." 
 
 It was Mortimer Keppel who had sent her the woeful 
 tidings ; and she turned to him now with tender, anxious 
 gratitude. She heard of Charlie's death at a tea-party, 
 and cried for three days afterwards the bitterest tears 
 she ever shed ; which bitter tears, perhaps, were not in 
 vain, for Charlie was destitute of kith or kin; and 
 spite of his popularity with his fellows, if it had not 
 been for the duchess, there was no one who would 
 actually have wept, which bald, hard fate would have 
 hurt the affectionate Charlie more than aught else. 
 
 " I am thinking how his mother would have cried," 
 the duchess had explained to some one who had remon- 
 strated ; while her tears fell faster than before. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel had been by when Charlie fell, and 
 went back when the melee was over to search for the 
 boy. He had written her the facts in a brief, self- 
 restrained note. 
 
 " Tell me about Charlie," she begged. " I got 
 your letter it was very kind; but I want to know 
 more." 
 
 " There's not much to tell," he began, rather reluc- 
 tantly; but he pulled up a low chair for her behind 
 some palms, and asked if she would mind if he smoked ? 
 " He was the most fearless man I ever came across," 
 he went on as he lit his cigarette. " There are several 
 sorts of courage, you know, but Charlie had them all.
 
 40 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 The wonder wasn't that he got killed, the wonder was 
 that he hadn't been killed five hundred times before." 
 
 "Was he killed at once? Did he suffer?" she 
 asked gently, with a woman's thirst for smaller 
 details. 
 
 Keppel winced a little ; it was months ago now, but 
 not yet did he care to remember Charlie's handsome 
 yellow head lying prone on the African veldt, with a 
 battered leather Prayer-book held close to his rigid lips. 
 He would rather she had taken it all on trust. 
 
 " It could not have been at once, because of the 
 book ; he was holding it to his lips, you know. But he 
 didn't suffer, I'm pretty well sure of that. He couldn't 
 have been in pain, he'd got such a cheery look on his 
 face. I didn't believe he was dead at first, not for some 
 minutes he looked so exactly like himself." 
 
 But poor Angela could stand no more ; she buried 
 her face in her hands and burst into a subdued passion 
 of tears. 
 
 " Why couldn't the Boers have shot every one else 
 instead; they might have spared Charlie," she sobbed, 
 in the abandonment of her grief. 
 
 " They did their level best to shoot the lot," answered 
 Keppel, soberly. 
 
 " There never was any one so good-looking as 
 Charlie. In a pink coat out hunting he was simply 
 divine." 
 
 " He was a devil to ride," Keppel agreed, " and just 
 the right build for a horse." 
 
 " I can't imagine him dead ; and I'm sure Charlie 
 couldn't imagine it either, he knew so little about death.
 
 FBIDAY NIGHT 41 
 
 But I'm glad now I kissed him when he went away. 
 Nothing wrong, Mr. Keppel, we were such dear, dear 
 friends." 
 
 "There was nothing wrong in that," Mortimer 
 Keppel agreed " nothing whatever ! " 
 
 The duchess liked his tone of calm assurance, and 
 looked up at him a little wistfully. She was very beau- 
 tiful and in a good deal of real distress ; but Keppel had 
 another image stamped upon his mental vision. 
 
 " Charlie would certainly have tried to," she mur- 
 mured to herself ; at which cryptic remark she began to 
 cry again. " I must go to bed. Do just look at my 
 face," she exclaimed in despair. 
 
 " When you are by I can look at nothing else ! " 
 answered Keppel, courteously. 
 
 Angela recovered a little. She knew she could cry 
 with impunity ; tears never marred her peerless face. 
 
 " You will always seem to me quite different to other 
 men, because of Charlie ; and I want to ask you some- 
 thing else, only I can't, because it will make me cry 
 again." 
 
 " That don't matter, do it ? Don't mind me; " and 
 he handed her his handkerchief. " It's quite clean, so 
 you needn't be afraid." 
 
 " You said in your letter you would keep the Prayer- 
 book for me have you remembered ? " 
 
 " I have it with me now," he answered simply, taking 
 it from his pocket and handing her the shabby little 
 volume. " I'm afraid there's a stain on it. I tried to 
 clean it off, but there was no water," he explained very 
 gently.
 
 42 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 The brown stain was Charlie's life-blood, and Angela 
 grew quite pale. Keppel wished she would cry again ; 
 he could stand it better than the mute agony in her 
 wide, tearless eyes. 
 
 " No one has kissed it since Charlie, have they, Mr. 
 Keppel ? " she asked, as she pressed the little book to 
 her lips. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel coughed rather uneasily. " No 
 one to signify ; no one, that is, but an absent-minded 
 beggar who was more or less crazy at the time," he 
 stammered ; and getting up rather hastily he knocked 
 off the end of his cigarette against one of the palms.
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 FALLING leaf, and fading tree, 
 
 Lines of white in a sullen sea, 
 
 Shadows rising on you and me ; 
 
 The swallows are making them ready to fly, 
 
 Wheeling out on a windy sky. 
 
 Good-bye, Summer ! Good-bye, Good-bye ! 
 
 WHYTE-MELVILLE.
 
 1 
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 Castle Loftus. 
 
 day following dawned gloriously with a 
 liquid flood of sunshine that bathed the 
 whole country in light. It was one of 
 those unexpected blue days that some- 
 times usher in the autumnal saints, when summer 
 seems as though she could not bear to tear herself away. 
 The wet bare trees, the damp brown fields, and the 
 lingering yellow herbage, shone like gold in the lustre 
 of the morning, while away out at sea pale bars of opal 
 light lay on the water, with a broad band of dancing 
 gold where the sea met the horizon. 
 
 Blanche looked at the sea, and hummed a few bars 
 of a song " Come back to me, beloved, or I die ! " the 
 refrain would keep running in her head. 
 
 " A wire about my father condition graver than 
 ever," cried Miles, interrupting her. " I only hope the 
 old man means to leave me a fat legacy when he is 
 about it ; the estate won't clear itself from those damned 
 death duties till this time next year," he added, with 
 much practical foresight. 
 
 Neither the duchess nor Mrs. Eddy Eaton appeared 
 at breakfast ; Blanche talked French to Mademoiselle 
 all through the meal; while Miles and Victoria wrote
 
 46 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 out breathless messages on telegraph forms that were 
 to be despatched to Lord Heythrop at stated intervals 
 all through the day. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel followed the French conversation 
 as far as he could, and fell back on asking Blanche to 
 pass him everything within reach, as the next best 
 means of gaining her attention. 
 
 "You were nicer last night," he told her, as he 
 waited in the hall for the shooting party to start. 
 
 " I can't help it, dear," she answered. 
 
 "I hate people who are stiff in the morning. 
 Surely you would rather speak to me than to Made- 
 moiselle ? " 
 
 "But I wanted to speak French. A silly bit of 
 poetry was running in my head, and if I had spoken 
 in English, or looked at you, I should have said it out 
 aloud, I know I should." 
 
 "What was the bit of poetry?" he asked, moving 
 nearer. 
 
 " * Come back to me, beloved, or I die ! ' " Blanche 
 answered softly. 
 
 "It's a nuisance having so many leaves on the 
 trees," remarked Eddy Eaton, as he came down one 
 of the staircases, intent only on the day's shoot. 
 
 " A confounded nuisance ! " agreed Keppel, more 
 inclined to confound his host for having interrupted 
 such a pleasant conversation. 
 
 Before they all started off he had time, however, for 
 one word more 
 
 " I never knew there was so much sense in poetry ! 
 What made it run in your head ? "
 
 SATUKDAY 47 
 
 " It was when you were away. It won't run in my 
 head so much now," she answered, as she told him to 
 shoot straight and remember his reputation. 
 
 His reputation, in conjunction with the others, was a 
 little too good for the startled pheasants. The shivering 
 autumn leaves were no great deterrent to the sportsmen 
 after all; they were little enough refuge to the birds. 
 The day proved an excellent day for sport, quite a 
 record head of game falling to the six guns. 
 
 " The meet is at the Goat and Compasses this 
 morning, but I'm not allowed to drive alone, won't you 
 come with me?" asked Beatrice Eaton, the younger 
 daughter, who was supposed to be living an embryo 
 existence in the schoolroom, though she knew as much 
 about the world as her mother, and more about horses 
 than the head coachman at the Castle stables. 
 
 And Blanche Heythrop readily agreed. She wanted 
 to get away with her own thoughts for a little. She would 
 be calmer soon, and more accustomed to the amazing 
 vitality Mortimer Keppel always brought into her life. 
 
 "I'll tell you who every one is," cried Beatrice, 
 delighted to have found a congenial companion ; " and 
 I've made them put up some sandwiches and wine, so 
 that we can stop out as long as we choose. They won't 
 find before Compton Ridge, so we shall be able to follow 
 for some way." 
 
 Blanche had no knowledge of children, and was 
 quite without that sympathetic insight, called sometimes 
 the "maternal instinct," that might have enabled her 
 to enter into their pleasures and pursuits. Beatrice 
 was, however, no child in the ordinary acceptation of
 
 48 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 the term, and they got on with each other in spite of 
 the gulf, better than might have been expected. 
 
 " I can't think what made Eddy fix up a shoot on 
 a day when the meet was this side of the country," 
 Beatrice remarked, as she turned her pony out of the 
 Castle gates. 
 
 "Perhaps he prefers shooting to hunting," Blanche 
 suggested. 
 
 Beatrice nodded. "He's not a bad shot," she 
 admitted; "but he can't ride for nuts. Yet they won't 
 let me hunt unless he's out too. It would really be more 
 sense if he wasn't allowed to hunt unless I was out ! 
 I'm opening gates for him all the time, and finding 
 bridges, and hauling him out of things. I can't think 
 myself why he comes out at all." 
 
 "To oblige you, I expect," exclaimed Blanche, who 
 thought she might just as well put in a good word for 
 her host when she could. 
 
 "I'm glad he can shoot, but of course I should 
 prefer, for the credit of the family, that he could ride 
 too," Beatrice continued, ignoring Mrs. Heythrop's 
 charitable suggestion. 
 
 " What about Victoria doesn't she care for sport ? " 
 Blanche asked. 
 
 " Not a bit ! She doesn't know a horse's head from 
 its tail. No more does Lord Inchgarvie. I should be 
 sorry to marry a man of that sort myself ! " and 
 Beatrice gave her whip a contemptuous flick. 
 
 Blanche smiled. "Who, then, shall be saved?" 
 she asked, for Beatrice's standard seemed no easy one 
 to pass.
 
 SATUEDAY 49 
 
 But Beatrice only understood straightforward speech, 
 and went on again, after a moment's somewhat puzzled 
 scrutiny of Blanche's face 
 
 "Epsom thinks a lot of Mr. Keppel ; he used to stop 
 here the winter Victoria was in Paris." 
 
 " And what do you think ? " asked Blanche, quite 
 hastily ; she was really anxious to know what sort of 
 sentence Mortimer would receive. 
 
 "Epsom said, 'I reckon that 'ere Mr. Keppel he 
 knows a deal about a 'orse, he do^; and Epsom 
 generally knows." 
 
 Against such an authority Beatrice did not presume 
 to quote her own opinion. 
 
 " That settles it, I suppose," answered Blanche ; 
 "but I reckon Mr. Keppel knows about a few other 
 things as well." 
 
 Beatrice stared at her again. " Oh yes," she agreed, 
 " he knows a lot of other things. He can tear a whole 
 pack of cards in half, for I've seen him do it. They say 
 it's a trick; but I don't know about that," she added 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 Beatrice had never been snubbed in her life, or told 
 that her opinion of grown people was a matter of no 
 account ; neither had any one ever expected her to be 
 diffident or shy it must be admitted she was neither. 
 So many things were discussed before her, it became a 
 little difficult to remember what were not ; the result of 
 all which was, that she observed a good deal more than 
 was ever expected, and knew a good deal more than was 
 ever supposed. Whoever married Beatrice would find 
 her without either nonsense or nerves whether he would
 
 50 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 also find her lacking in other things was a question for 
 time to show. 
 
 " I must say I don't envy Victoria having to marry 
 Inchgarvie," she remarked reflectively. 
 
 "I wouldn't say that," Blanche cautioned her 
 advisedly. 
 
 " I wouldn't say it to any one but you. One can 
 always tell the sort of people who never repeat." 
 
 " Whom would you have her marry ? " asked Blanche, 
 marvelling somewhat at the child's perspicacity; she 
 would have preferred to go on discussing Mr. Keppel, 
 but feared lest Beatrice should find it out. 
 
 " Not Mr. Keppel ! " she answered directly, somewhat 
 to Blanche's surprise. 
 
 " And why not Mr. Keppel ? " 
 
 " He would get so tired of Victoria," answered the 
 child, without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 " Who taught you all you know ? " asked Blanche ; 
 the precocious infant was nearly taking her breath 
 away. 
 
 " No one ever taught me anything but Mademoiselle, 
 and of course what she teaches me will never do me a 
 bit of good," Beatrice replied. 
 
 " How do you know so much about Mr. Keppel ? " 
 The question was really more than Blanche could resist. 
 
 "I don't suppose I know half as much as you do," 
 Beatrice said generously; she was really a little 
 nattered by Blanche's remarks, and was anxious for 
 her part to be equally agreeable and polite. 
 
 But Blanche had no wish to follow up this unlooked- 
 for turn in the conversation.
 
 SATUEDAY 51 
 
 " What's wrong with the pony's bit ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 There was nothing wrong, but she knew the subject 
 was one likely to appeal to Beatrice. She could have 
 thought of nothing better for turning the conversation 
 had she tried, and Beatrice became absorbed at once. 
 She was glad Mrs. Heythrop had a mind beyond the 
 eternal subject of women and men. 
 
 The promise of the morning died down in the 
 afternoon, it had been a little too brilliant to last ; the 
 brief autumnal day was mild but colourless, streaks 
 from a farewell sun shone in the west, and only the 
 report of guns broke the still grey silence. Blanche and 
 Beatrice were not home till late ; Beatrice wanted to 
 follow, and Blanche, for her part, had no objection, 
 though she knew the house-party was to lunch with the 
 guns at half-past one, and that she would certainly miss 
 that part of the entertainment. Blanche's sins of com- 
 mission would always be wisely balanced by the dis- 
 cretion she displayed in omission. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton and the duchess walked up and 
 down the front drive arm-in-arm, discussing exhaustively, 
 from every point of view, Sybil Cobb's preposterous 
 behaviour and the divorce proceedings her husband was 
 bound at once to institute. Every one was discussing 
 the case, as every one knew Christopher Cobb, the 
 outraged husband. Sybil was an Eaton, and closely 
 related to Eddy; her marriage had been carefully 
 arranged without her opinion being consulted. " Where 
 was the use ? " said her mother. " She was but a child." 
 Too much of a child to appreciate her husband's wealth, 
 she had, unfortunately, not been old enough to endure
 
 52 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 his portly ponderous person ; she wished she were back 
 in the schoolroom, she cried, and made an open exhibition 
 of her chagrin. Christopher Cobb was an unpleasant 
 person, most people agreed, and what he must be in 
 private life generally ended in an expressive shudder. 
 He was far too rich to be ignored, however, and Sybil's 
 astute parent continued to congratulate herself : beggars 
 must not be choosers, and beggars with blue blood in 
 their veins could at least study worldly wisdom. If 
 Sybil had been older it might have been better, as it 
 was she shrank yet more and more, and finally ran 
 away with the most worthless character in the whole of 
 her acquaintance. How it would end no one could say. 
 Whether Christopher would condone, and Sybil repent ; 
 whether the worthless character understood so much as 
 the honour current among thieves, was another point 
 open to doubt. No one could help talking, or quoting 
 the somewhat apposite proverb about falling between 
 two stools. Mrs. Heythrop was believed to be the only 
 person who knew the rights of the notorious case, but 
 she would not join Mrs. Eddy just then ; she had been 
 in the garden with Victoria picking chrysanthemums, 
 and now wanted to walk to Loftus churchyard before it 
 grew dark to see the Crusader's grave, where the plumed 
 knight, in clanging armour, came and knelt each night 
 at twelve o'clock the Scotch gardener had been telling 
 them the tale. 
 
 "You had much better stop with us, the mud outside 
 is unspeakable ; and I am so anxious to know whether 
 you think Sybil to blame or not," cried Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton, eagerly.
 
 SATUEDAY 53 
 
 " She used to say she cared too much for the world 
 to sacrifice herself to either the flesh or the devil. I 
 wish she'd stuck to it," Blanche answered. 
 
 " She'd better have stuck to the ills she had," agreed 
 Mrs. Eddy. 
 
 " If she ever thought twice it might have been 
 different, but she never does," said Blanche. 
 
 " I'm like that," Angela observed, " yet I'd never 
 run away, not even from Gustavus." 
 
 " You wouldn't compare Sunsutton to Christopher 
 Cobb, would you ? " exclaimed Mrs. Eddy. " And to 
 run away with the creature she has ! You can't explain 
 that, Blanche. She must be mad ! " 
 
 " She never had any sense," Blanche admitted. 
 
 " If I did run away, I'd take more care who I ran 
 with," Mrs. Eddy added. Sybil had really outdone 
 herself. 
 
 " I'm sorry for her," Blanche protested quietly. 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy had no patience with a girl of her 
 age not knowing better. While Angela, with the best 
 of intentions, began to compose a suitable list of the 
 men she might, and ought to, have run away with. 
 
 " The mere fact of her running away with the man 
 she has shows she is as ignorant as she is foolish," 
 Blanche declared, as she hurried out of the lodge gates, 
 promising to return shortly. 
 
 " The world will not be equally charitable, I fear," 
 remarked Mrs. Eddy Eaton, as she and her companion 
 retraced their steps. 
 
 " The mistake she made was in ever marrying him," 
 responded the duchess, conclusively.
 
 54 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " It's a mistake too many women make. We poor 
 devils aren't fit for them, that's about what it is," 
 observed Mortimer Keppel, as he joined the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 The shooting was over for the day, and he had 
 come round by the paddock, and through the plantation 
 by the back of the drive. 
 
 " And yet one must marry somebody ! " objected the 
 duchess, pathetically. 
 
 " And the best you can do after that is to stick to 
 your husband so long as he sticks to you," added Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton, who was not without her own curious code 
 of morals. 
 
 A yellow sandy road with an avenue of evergreen 
 trees led up to the old grey church ; a whispering wind 
 had arisen from the not far distant sea, and the yew 
 trees and cypresses bent their dark boughs. Blanche 
 Heythrop wandered around, reading the quaint, heart- 
 broken legends on the mossy headstones, and wondering 
 where all these dead people had gone to, and whether 
 the absence of marrying, and giving in marriage, would 
 tend to promote a more perfect state of life or not ? A 
 few pink roses were still blooming in a fugitive way in 
 a prettily cared-for grave around a white marble cross. 
 " Greatly loved," Blanche read on the stone. In some 
 cases, then, there was no harm in loving even to 
 excess ! 
 
 As she wandered through the graveyard she was 
 thinking of the time when Mortimer Keppel was nothing 
 in the world to her ; it seemed odd now that there could 
 have been such a time. She remembered perfectly the
 
 SATUEDAY 55 
 
 first time she ever saw him, and how indifferent she 
 then had been. She was stopping with Lord Heythrop 
 in the house in town, and Keppel had come in from a 
 race meeting, rather unexpectedly, just when they were 
 having tea. He was the sort of man most people would 
 be sure to notice at once, and Blanche noticed him the 
 moment he came into the room ; he was so courteous 
 and calm and curiously polite, and his clothes seemed 
 somehow the acme of perfection, though each detail was 
 less conspicuous than the last. His eyes never wan- 
 dered for a moment while he was talking to her, though 
 there were a great many people in the room : even on 
 that day he paid the same deference to her smallest 
 wishes he had always done since, and listened to her 
 least remark as if it had been a matter of most real 
 importance. There was a great deal of charm about 
 Mortimer Keppel, and she was no more insensible to it 
 than other people : she liked the tone of his voice, and 
 his habitual gentle badinage, that at first took her so 
 much by surprise, and she liked the magnificent sim- 
 plicity that was such a characteristic part of the man. 
 Then one night he sat next to her at dinner, and they 
 talked to each other all through the meal. Their con- 
 versation had been mainly confined to a discussion of his 
 future wife what she was to be, and what she was not to 
 do a subject on which Keppel could be both eloquent 
 and amusing. It had been an intimate conversation with- 
 out effort on either side, but it had left Blanche breathless. 
 Since then, for better, for worse, life had been so much the 
 more intense for both of them, and each time they met 
 she experienced a thrill of happiness nothing in the
 
 56 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 world had ever given her before. Once, at a highly 
 strung moment, she had kissed him, it would have been 
 heartless to do otherwise ; and now they were friends, 
 dear friends, who had shared a great many scenes of 
 life in common. She asked herself sometimes, how it 
 was all to end ? She had even taken into account the 
 sordid ending so common to some friendships ; but the 
 vulgarity of such a termination seemed to her merely 
 repulsive. Never was friendship more open than theirs ; 
 yet Blanche left it all happily to chance, and never 
 took advantage of any situation that required the 
 smallest sort of finesse. She was no schemer, and could 
 take pleasure in nothing that necessitated scheming or 
 plot ; the result of which meant peace of mind to some 
 extent, and left her free from doubts and small despic- 
 able fears. Keppel, for his part, thought of nothing 
 but Blanche ; he knew he was never so happy, and 
 never enjoyed himself so much as when she was in 
 his company, and his one object which certainly 
 he prosecuted with vigour was to see as much of her 
 as he possibly could. He was very strong in his own 
 self-esteem, and would have been sorry to think any 
 woman, least of all Blanche Heythrop, should suffer by 
 his friendship or regard. Mortimer had a good deal of 
 amour propre, and valued his own good opinion before 
 any one else's ; what other people did was nothing to 
 him, what he did was of the utmost importance to 
 himself at least. 
 
 The idea of injuring a hair of Blanche's head was 
 not to be admitted for a moment, and he turned his 
 mind from the thought with the calm determination of
 
 SATUEDAY 57 
 
 a man accustomed to regard himself as the exception 
 that proves the rule 
 
 " One word is too often profaned 
 For me to profane it." 
 
 If Blanche and Mortimer justified their own friend- 
 ship, however, it is not to say such friendships always 
 flourish with equal impunity. 
 
 It was very quiet and still in the little churchyard ; 
 a young woman with a baby was weeping by a nameless 
 grave beside the lych-gate, and an old man was grubbing 
 in the earth under the eastern window; otherwise 
 Blanche thought herself quite alone, though she did not 
 start when she heard a man's voice close behind her. 
 
 " Are we never to meet again ? " Mortimer asked. 
 
 " But we have been meeting all day long ! " 
 
 "You know what I mean," he answered, as he came 
 and stood beside her. 
 
 Blanche was leaning against the Crusader's great 
 stone tomb, and the white light in the western sky 
 shone full on her face. Some dead leaves fell pattering 
 on the grey stone, and the tearless look of sadness in 
 her eyes showed that even Blanche Heythrop could not 
 always hide her feelings. 
 
 "We shall often meet like this," she said, as though 
 it were a lesson she had learned by heart, " and I shall 
 always be glad to meet. Miles will want you to come 
 and stop with us I know, and I hope you'll come. I 
 shall always be interested in everything you do, and 
 when you marry, I hope I shall still be your friend." 
 Then quite suddenly she broke down a little, while the
 
 58 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 evening wind sobbed fitfully in the yew trees behind. 
 " Oh, Mortimer, you don't know how I have missed 
 you ! England did not seem the same country when 
 you were away." 
 
 She held out her hand, and he took it in his own. 
 She had pulled off her gloves to pick some ivy, and, 
 while they had been talking, had pressed it so tensely 
 against the rough stone that she had actually bruised 
 her skin. Mortimer came a step nearer ; the temptation 
 to make Blanche show her feelings was one not easily 
 resisted by the man who had that power ; but the sight 
 of the chafed skin on her hand made him suddenly 
 compunctuous. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Blanche. I was a brute to worry 
 you. I should never have come." 
 
 "It would have been more brutal still if you had 
 stopped in Africa." 
 
 Keppel took her arm and pulled her gently down on 
 the gravestone, and they sat there together on the 
 shallow stone step. 
 
 " We can talk better so, and I have so much to say. 
 My darling, my beautiful white angel, this is the sort 
 of moment when life is worth living." 
 
 The soft wind whispered fitfully, and more dead 
 leaves came pattering down. 
 
 " I can smell the sea," said Blanche, but her heart 
 was beating wildly, and she had scarcely breath enough 
 for the few words. 
 
 "Did you always know I loved you so much?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "How is it one knows?" she answered gently.
 
 SATURDAY 59 
 
 " You're very self-contained, dear, and you hide so 
 much of what you feel; but I knew from the very 
 beginning, and at first it terrified me." 
 
 "How did you know?" he persisted. 
 
 " You always seemed to want to tell everything to 
 me, and sooner or later you were always sure to be there." 
 
 " And why were you terrified ? I should not have 
 thought you were so silly, Blanche." 
 
 " I'm very silly indeed, if you only knew. I some- 
 times think I have no sense at all, and one ought to 
 have so much," she sighed as she spoke. 
 
 " You call it silly to like your best friend, do you ? " 
 
 "I should never call it silly to like you, dear no 
 one could help doing that." 
 
 " I couldn't stand being liked by you. If you hated 
 me, I should endure it; but fancy the insult of being 
 merely liked!" 
 
 11 Yet I like you more than all the rest ! " 
 
 " You don't ! " he exclaimed. " You're either blankly 
 indifferent, or in very real earnest, and I wouldn't be 
 the man I am if I didn't know you loved me." 
 
 "Tell me how you knew?" she asked in her 
 turn. 
 
 "Knew you loved me?" he answered. "Why, my 
 dear, it was ages before I dared to know. I was never 
 really sure till you kissed me at Southampton. I 
 knew you were never the woman to kiss a man, even 
 supposing he were to be killed next week, unless you 
 pretty well cared for him. But it needed a lot of 
 strength of mind to ask you so boldly and put it to the 
 test."
 
 60 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 "I am glad I kissed you I shall always be glad," 
 Blanche responded composedly. " But I only kissed 
 you because I was certain you knew I wouldn't have 
 kissed any one else. It isn't so bad kissing a man 
 like you you are a little different, aren't you, 
 dear?" 
 
 "As different as chalk from cheese; there's not a 
 mite of harm about me." 
 
 " I knew I could trust you," she added hastily, for 
 the scene was well worth repetition, and Keppel had 
 already begun to beseech. 
 
 " I should have loathed you, Blanche, if you hadn't 
 loved me, I should have been so furious at your pre- 
 ferring any one else." 
 
 " There never were two truer friends, I am sure," 
 she declared, clinging as long as she might to the 
 platonic solution. 
 
 But Mortimer was grown sentimental the night 
 wind was so soft and lonesome, and Blanche's voice so 
 sweet and low. 
 
 " Tender and true," he repeated. " That's the 
 Douglas motto ; it goes with a bleeding heart." 
 
 "But neither of us are called Douglas, and our 
 hearts are not bleeding yet." 
 
 "It was my mother's name," he answered briefly. 
 
 And as Blanche glanced at his set face she realized 
 sorrowfully how difficult it is for a woman to comfort a 
 man the gulf fixed by convention is too wide. And 
 yet when Miles came home dejected from a race meet- 
 ing or the city, she never felt impelled to throw her 
 arms around his neck and whisper in his ear all the
 
 SATUEDAY 61 
 
 kind, inconsiderable nothings that were now rising to 
 her lips, and blaming herself severely for being a very 
 bad wife, she grew practical again. 
 
 "Come," she cried, "we had best be going back; 
 it is getting dark. How did you know I was here ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Eaton sent me to fetch you ; and I can tell 
 you she didn't need to bid me twice ! They thought 
 you were much too venturesome, going off like this, all 
 by yourself in the dark." 
 
 " I'm not afraid of the dark ! " Blanche answered 
 scornfully. 
 
 "What is it you're afraid of, then ? " 
 
 " I was afraid of you just now, when you looked so 
 miserably sad," she admitted reluctantly. 
 
 Keppel was, after all, only a very human man. 
 
 "You need not feel like that," he cried, "not when 
 the cure is all in your own hands. If you were my wife, 
 Blanche, I'd be damned if I'd let you kiss another man ; 
 but, since you're not, I wish you would ! " 
 
 " You ask too much," she answered, remembering 
 Tennyson's poems; "when you had to go away and 
 fight was the time to embrace it's the time to refrain 
 from embracing now." 
 
 " Then you never mean to kiss me again not even 
 if I was dying, Blanche ? " 
 
 " Don't ! " she cried hurriedly ; "that would be quite 
 different." 
 
 " Can't see the moral of that," he objected, " unless 
 it be that dead men tell no tales." 
 
 " Live men can, however, tell what they please; you 
 have my full permission."
 
 62 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " What should I tell ? and to whom should I tell it ? 
 I bet you a fiver you yourself told Miles all about the 
 shed at Southampton." 
 
 Blanche nodded. "I did," she replied, rather 
 pleased he should do her so much justice. 
 
 "And Miles was mightily bored, I'll be bound, at 
 anything so matter-of-course ? " 
 
 " It was matter-of-course," she maintained. 
 
 " Take my arm, then ; that's matter-of-course, too ! 
 It's getting so dark under these trees I can scarcely see 
 your face." 
 
 " I can see in the dark," Blanche declared, as she 
 turned from him and climbed over the little stile before 
 he had time to help her down. 
 
 " No need of so much hurry," he said, as he followed. 
 " You can surely trust such an old friend ? " 
 
 Blanche waited then until he came up. 
 
 " I should trust you if I had only met you yester- 
 day," she said. 
 
 It was very dark indeed under the avenue of ever- 
 green oaks, but Mortimer made no more offers of help. 
 
 " Did you have a good day's shoot ? " she asked ; 
 and they talked of Mortimer's new brace of guns in the 
 most friendly manner all the way back. 
 
 Every one had finished tea when Blanche came 
 down to the hall. 
 
 "Pour out some for yourself, won't you?" cried 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton. "There's some in the drawing- 
 room." 
 
 Major Eoyle was in the little octagonal room, also 
 the duchess and Victoria.
 
 SATUEDAY 63 
 
 " It's easily enough done," he was saying, " if you 
 don't mind me taking off my coat ? " 
 
 The major's performances sooner or later always 
 ended in him getting rid of his coat. 
 
 "If you let Eoyle take off his coat, he won't rest till 
 he has taken his waistcoat also ! " remarked Keppel, 
 who had followed them in. 
 
 The performance was acrobatic in the extreme, but 
 the major was supple as an eel. 
 
 "You must hold on by your eyebrows, and hang on 
 by your teeth. You sit on the chair to begin with," he 
 explained, as he suited the action to the words. " Then 
 you stick a pin, a white-headed pin for choice, on to 
 the back leg of the chair, the leg that's behind your 
 right shoulder, about two inches from the ground. 
 Then " Major Royle suddenly made a lunge over the 
 side of the chair, and twisted himself round by the back 
 " you mustn't get off the chair, and you mustn't touch 
 the ground with your elbows," he proceeded to explain 
 as well as he could, for he was at the moment practically 
 standing on his head. " Then you pick off the pin with 
 your mouth, and get back to the chair again as well as 
 you can." 
 
 Before achieving which, however, the major over- 
 balanced himself, and fell heavily to the ground, 
 pulling the Chippendale chair over on the top of 
 him. 
 
 " I was within an ace of it that time ! " he exclaimed, 
 as Victoria and Mortimer righted the chair and left him 
 free to pick himself up. 
 
 " One of you try it this time do," he begged.
 
 64 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 But Angela declined. "I don't much care about 
 standing on my head, besides my hair would all come 
 down." 
 
 The major offered to put it up again; but neither 
 she nor Victoria were to be persuaded. 
 
 " All right, I'll have another try. Odd if I don't do 
 it this time," he cried, as he once more swung himself 
 round the back of the chair. 
 
 At which unexpected moment a visitor was an- 
 nounced, and a small, alarmed man, in clerical dress, 
 entered the room. 
 
 " I've done it ! " explained Major Koyle, in smothered 
 accents ; while Victoria sunk into a big armchair, laugh- 
 ing audibly, and only Mortimer of all the party remained 
 capable of speech. 
 
 " They told me I could see Mr. Eaton; I came late 
 on purpose to find him in ; but I'm afraid I'm interrupt- 
 ing," the clergyman began. 
 
 What it was he was interrupting he did not know at 
 all, and he looked in blank amazement from the some- 
 what crumpled major to the heaving shoulders of the 
 convulsed Angela, who in desperation had turned her 
 back on them all. He had heard many fearsome tales 
 of the goings-on at the Castle, and wondered a little 
 nervously if things were as black as they were painted ; 
 for a clergyman has to remember his cloth. That 
 grown people should amuse themselves as heartily as 
 children was scarcely seemly according to his views; 
 he felt just a little envious at the same time of people 
 who could enjoy themselves so easily, and seem so 
 happy and gay.
 
 SATURDAY 65 
 
 " Eaton will be here immediately. Won't you 
 sit down?" said Mortimer, and it needed a certain 
 amount of self-control before he could even say the few 
 words. 
 
 " I've been picking up a pin," chimed in the major, 
 brightly, determined not to be outdone. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " replied the parson, obviously much 
 puzzled still. 
 
 The explanation fell very flat, and Victoria sunk deeper 
 into her cushions. 
 
 " Do you know where Eddy is ? " Mortimer asked 
 her. 
 
 " He'll never come, so there's no use you saying he 
 will. He never sees clergymen or people who want 
 subscriptions. We shall have to manage him ourselves," 
 she whispered in return. 
 
 "Can't I give you some tea?" Blanche proposed, 
 with a tardy remembrance of hospitality ; and while she 
 and the duchess plied him with cakes, he confided to 
 them his mission. 
 
 "It's rather a delicate matter, and I'd rather not 
 mention names, but there's a poor woman in the village 
 who has lost all her teeth, and we're getting up a little 
 private subscription to get her a new set a set of false 
 teeth, in fact." 
 
 " Poor thing ! " said the soft-hearted Angela, " she'll 
 get most awful indigestion." 
 
 " As you say, the poor creature has indeed become 
 quite a martyr to dyspepsia, besides having her looks 
 considerably affected. I don't mean, of course, that 
 that signifies, but it's really against her getting a 
 
 E
 
 66 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 situation; a mistress prefers teeth, you know, when 
 possible." 
 
 " How much are teeth ? " asked the duchess a little 
 vaguely ; the cost of things was a problem that never 
 entered her life, but to lose one's looks seemed to her 
 a grievous fate. 
 
 " I say, I wish some one would help me," cried Major 
 Eoyle ; " I've never been out of the dentist's hands since 
 I came home from the coast. The climate plays the 
 very devil with your teeth, and the dentist's bill is 
 hanging over me like a nightmare." 
 
 The clergyman looked more startled still, less at 
 the major's language, than at what seemed to him his 
 shocking want of taste. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Blanche ; " you've got beautiful 
 teeth. Here, what do you want to give ? " 
 
 She and the duchess, with the help of Mortimer, 
 had already got up the necessary subscription between 
 them. 
 
 " What do you want ?" he asked, as he studied his 
 white, even row of teeth in a glass that hung on the 
 wall. 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you, I'm sure. I 
 thought I should have to go all round the parish at 
 least," gasped the overwhelmed parson, as Mortimer 
 showed him out. 
 
 " Charity covers a multitude of sins," he murmured, 
 as he picked his way across the gravel sweep; "but 
 what an extraordinarily beautiful face ! " he thought 
 of the duchess, and grew quite pink in the darkness. 
 "And it's not their parish either. Who would have
 
 SATUEDAY 67 
 
 thought these people would have had so much kindness 
 of heart ? " 
 
 The society of the county was in the habit of com- 
 plaining, not without reason, perhaps, that the Eddy 
 Batons did no good to the neighbourhood. They knew 
 no one from their own choice, which in itself was an 
 insult to people so very willing to know them, and cared 
 nothing even for recognized county magnates, whom 
 every one else respected and feared so much. Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton paid no heed to the smaller rules of eti- 
 quette, and was constantly infringing established social 
 laws. She had, indeed, mortally offended Mrs. Mullein, 
 her next-door neighbour, by never calling, and then one 
 day asking her, without any introduction, to be kind 
 enough to open a gate, as she could not leave a restive 
 horse. It was more than Mrs. Mullein could stand, and 
 most of her friends were full of indignant sympathy. 
 But Mrs. Eddy Eaton would have held the gate open 
 for her neighbour without a thought, to say nothing of 
 an introduction, and never guessed another person should 
 feel differently than she. 
 
 " I didn't call on the Mullein woman," she explained, 
 " because I thought, if she was a bore, she would be 
 such an awful bore, living so close to the gates." It 
 seemed to her a sensible view of the case, and one quite 
 as likely to appeal to Mrs. Mullein as herself.
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 WE two stood there with never a third, 
 But each by each, as each knew well : 
 
 The sights we saw and the sounds we heard, 
 The lights and the shades made up a spell 
 
 Till the trouble grew and stirred. 
 
 Had she willed it, still had stood the screen 
 So slight, so sure, 'twixt my love and her : 
 
 I could fix her face with a guard between, 
 And find her soul as when friends confer, 
 
 Friends lovers that might have been. 
 
 BROWSING.
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 Castle Loftus. 
 
 MRS. EDDY EATON always went to church 
 when she was at the Castle. " Any one 
 who likes can come with me," she said. 
 But when the church-going party as-' 
 sembled in the hall they found Miles there before them, 
 white with consternation, standing at the foot of the 
 staircase, reading a telegram, while a footman with a 
 salver waited in the background. The news Miles had 
 been expecting had certainly come, and a sudden con- 
 straint fell on the party, so that even Wellington Guest 
 relapsed into silence. 
 
 "I hope there's not anything wrong, my dear fellow?" 
 asked Mr. Eddy Eaton, as it was clear some one must 
 speak. 
 
 "Anything wrong?" echoed Miles. "Everything's 
 wrong ! Here, read this," he cried, holding out the 
 telegram for any one who cared to take it. "Read that, 
 I say, and then ask me what's wrong. Ton my soul," 
 he continued irritably, " the old man must have the 
 constitution of a phoenix." 
 
 Wellington Guest took the missive and read it out 
 aloud, while every one crowded round to hear. 
 
 " ' Most unexpected rally. Every prospect of eventual
 
 72 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 recovery. No cause for further anxiety.' Well, I'm 
 blessed ! " he remarked, and he looked up at Miles with 
 a somewhat whimsical expression in his eyes. 
 
 " Blessed, indeed ! I'm the other thing myself. 
 Don't look at me like that," cried Miles, savagely. 
 "Remember how you'd feel yourself, and behave like a 
 Christian if you're not one." 
 
 "I was going to congratulate you on your father's 
 recovery," Wellington Guest began a little blankly, in a 
 voice of profuse apology, but with the same careless 
 smile in his eyes. 
 
 "Is there an answer, sir?" asked the footman, at 
 last venturing to remind Miles that he was still waiting. 
 
 " An answer, you fool ? What do you suppose I 
 want to answer ? You don't expect me to congratulate 
 the old man, do you?" Miles growled in reply, much 
 too exasperated to heed what he was saying. 
 
 " Miles ! " exclaimed Blanche, gently shaking his arm. 
 "Here give me a telegraph form, will you?" she asked, 
 as she proceeded to write quickly, " Trust improvement 
 continues. Many congratulations. Blanche, Miles." 
 
 She read it aloud, as every one was so much interested 
 in the incident. 
 
 " I don't know what else I could say," she added, as 
 she counted the words. 
 
 " You must pay for it yourself," vowed Miles. " I'm 
 not going to perjure myself, not even to the extent of 
 sixpence ; and you've no right to sign my name either. 
 I never gave you leave." 
 
 But Blanche found her own sixpence, and the foot- 
 man went off at last.
 
 SUNDAY 73 
 
 " Poor, dear Lord Heythrop," murmured Wellington 
 Guest, in his equivocal voice, " who would ever have 
 guessed you would play your son such a heartless 
 practical joke ! " 
 
 Miles was much too perturbed to attend divine 
 service that morning. His calculations were all of them 
 completely upset filial concern of a sort on the one 
 hand, and a heavily anticipated patrimony on the other, 
 the nature of the case was certainly unique, and more 
 than trying to a man who at all times liked to express 
 himself in loud and vigorous speech. He never made 
 any effort to hide his feelings, and retired now much 
 chagrined, to look his affairs in the face, and to write to 
 his lawyer two somewhat unpleasant tasks, the pros- 
 pect of which did not tend to soothe his sorely ruffled 
 nerves. 
 
 "I tell you what it is, Blanche, we shall have to 
 travel back third class, and I shan't be able to give any 
 one Christmas presents," he observed, as he finally 
 crushed up the telegram that had been the cause of so 
 much dismay. 
 
 Major Eoyle was standing by with a Prayer-book 
 held ostentatiously under his arm, and the profoundest 
 expression of ingenuous sympathy on his face. 
 
 " We're going to church, Miles. Shall I ask the 
 parson to pray for your poor father ; it's often done in 
 cases of this sort ? " he asked in a grave, concerned tone 
 of voice, while Wellington was quite as anxious to help. 
 
 " Can't we get up a testimonial or a sweepstake or 
 something ? I don't at all like the idea of Miles travel- 
 ling third class."
 
 74 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " I say, Mrs. Heythrop, do you think it's safe to leave 
 him alone ? " Major Eoyle continued confidentially. 
 " He's had a nasty shock you know, and I'll stop with 
 him while you're gone. I can always go to evening 
 service," he added, more in deadly earnest than ever. 
 
 But before the much-tried Miles could reply, Blanche 
 had put her hand firmly before his mouth. 
 
 " Hush, dear, don't ! Do remember where you are," 
 she cried soothingly. 
 
 " What was he going to say ? You'll tell me, Mrs. 
 Heythrop, won't you ?" persisted Wellington. 
 
 " Not for worlds ! " answered Blanche, so hastily 
 that every one laughed. 
 
 Major Royle took up his large Prayer-book once more. 
 " That's what I call a really good wife," he remarked 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 The Duchess of Sunsutton was clad in silvery grey 
 this morning, with white fur round her shoulders, and a 
 mass of pale blue tulle swept by a jet black plume 
 resting on her beautiful brilliant hair. Her face was 
 like apple blossom and her eyes like purple pansies 
 nothing could have been more exquisite than her dazzling 
 appearance, and Mr. Eddy Eaton, who walked by her 
 side, could scarcely take his eyes for a moment off her 
 face. Occasionally, with a mighty jerk, he forced himself 
 to look at the landscape, while he did what he could 
 to prevent his conversation being nothing but a series 
 of personal remarks. The duchess, for her part, found 
 it just as difficult to refrain from what is euphemisti- 
 cally termed " making eyes " at her infatuated host 
 her eyes were made that way in all innocence from the
 
 SUXDAY 75 
 
 day she was born, and not to use them was pretty well 
 a physical impossibility. 
 
 "I hope my hat's straight? you seem to be looking 
 at something," she asked at last, transfixing him with 
 her lustrous orbs. 
 
 " I am looking at something, but it's not your hat ! " 
 answered Eddy Eaton, with a killing glance. 
 
 Earlier in the year Eddy Eaton had entertained a 
 royal visitor at Castle Loftus ; on that occasion,- when 
 his party entered the little church, the simple congre- 
 gation, from ignorance or loyalty, had risen to their 
 feet with one accord. They were apparently going to 
 repeat this precedent again when he came up the aisle 
 escorting his beautiful guest who had, indeed, turned 
 wiser heads than those of such simple rustics had it 
 not been for the Scotch gardener, a stickler where 
 etiquette was concerned. He saw how it was at once, 
 and rising indignantly from his seat, interfered very 
 audibly in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 " Sit doun, the whole o' you sit down ! Dinna ye 
 ken we're all equal in the sight o' God, the like o' 
 duchesses an' all, unless it be his Majesty the King, an' 
 he's no here the day ? " 
 
 Blanche turned ever so slightly round so that she 
 should catch Mortimer's eye ; he always heard what 
 she heard, and what amused her was always sure to 
 amuse him. 
 
 "A nasty one for the duchess," he whispered in a 
 modulated tone, as he slipped into the seat beside her. 
 " Why do you go to church, Mrs. Heythrop ? " 
 
 " Why do you, my friend ? " answered Blanche.
 
 76 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Solely that I may have the pleasure of sitting 
 next you." 
 
 But Blanche had opened her Prayer-book, and 
 refused to look up. 
 
 In following the service Major Eoyle was almost 
 ostentatiously devout. He was indefatigable in finding 
 hymn-books for every one, and insisted Mrs. Eddy Eaton 
 should share his Prayer-book, though she had one of 
 her own, finding all the places for her, so that she had 
 to follow whether she would or no. If the major was 
 volatile, he was also profound, and Blanche watched 
 him in a furtive way till the clergyman gave out the 
 Psalms for the day. " The fourth day of the month, 
 the nineteenth Psalm," he read out, and the congrega- 
 tion broke into a well-known chant. Thick golden 
 sunshine shone in through the narrow windows, and 
 suddenly her own amazing capacity for happiness came 
 over Blanche with a sort of lightning thrill. She sang 
 on, however, without seeking to dispel the charm of the 
 moment, and trying not to realize how great a content- 
 ment the safe proximity of Mortimer could arouse. 
 
 " Thou hast given me my heart's desire : and hast 
 not denied me the request of my lips ; " it was not often 
 any mortal could sing the words from his heart, but 
 Blanche was unreasoningly glad that morning. Whether 
 it had been the request of her lips or not, she had got 
 her heart's desire, and nothing could shake the fact. 
 She wondered if it were wrong to feel so glad ; if so, it 
 were surely equally wrong that either she or Mortimer 
 had ever been born ? The compunction made her think 
 for a moment very tenderly of poor Miles and all his
 
 SUNDAY 77 
 
 financial perplexity, but her nature was in broad, straight 
 lines. Too much introspection was only morbid, and the 
 ecstatic words of the psalm rang blissfully in her ears. 
 
 When the sermon began, Major Eoyle crossed his 
 knees against the book-rest, inserting, for some reason 
 of his own, his large Prayer-book, so that the heavy 
 volume was only held in place by the force of his knee. 
 An inadvertent movement on his part, and down it 
 would have fallen with a startling crash. It would 
 really be simpler to put the book on the book-rest and 
 cross his knees in peace, Mrs. Eddy Eaton pointed out 
 with a good deal of reason; but the major shook his 
 head and declared, to fix the book thus was the only 
 way he could sit. He delighted in such small feats of 
 prowess ; but his fidgety behaviour fairly distracted 
 Mrs. Eddy, who kept her eyes fixed on the book in a 
 kind of fascinated anticipation, and did not hear one 
 word of the sermon. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel followed the service quite as atten- 
 tively as the major, but with less ostentation. If a man 
 went to church, he must remember he was in church, 
 and behave accordingly, was his view of the case which 
 did not prevent him observing Blanche's least move- 
 ment, or settling into rather a gloomy fit of abstraction 
 as the text was given out. Blanche glanced once at 
 his profile, and then she turned to Victoria, who sat at 
 her other side. Mortimer looked so grave and polite 
 and sad, she feared his thoughts were not so sweet as 
 her own. If she could have put her hand on his arm 
 she could have cheered him in a moment, but she 
 dursn't even look him full in the face. Victoria was
 
 78 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 reading her hymn-book, studying the words of the 
 "Voice that breathed o'er Eden," with a knit brow 
 and a fretful frown. 
 
 " Mother thinks the primal marriage blessing means 
 gold ; do you ? " she whispered. 
 
 '"0 perfect Love ' is a much nicer hymn," Blanche 
 replied evasively. 
 
 " But it isn't perfect love, so what's the good of 
 finding the hymn ? It shan't be sung at my wedding," 
 Victoria muttered under her breath. But just then 
 Wellington Guest, who was sitting in the front seat, 
 looked over his shoulder and smiled, and all the defiance 
 and scorn went out of her pretty face. Wellington's 
 good-humour was irresistible, nothing ever seemed to 
 matter in his company ; and settling herself more closely 
 against Blanche, she whispered in more gentle tones, 
 "What did you say was the number of '0 perfect 
 Love'?" 
 
 " I can't bear to go to church when I'm away from 
 England ; it makes me so desperately homesick," Major 
 Royle confided to Mrs. Eddy Eaton as he escorted her 
 across the churchyard. 
 
 "I can't bear to go to church with a man who 
 behaves as if he were in a gymnasium all the time ; 
 you made me so nervous I could have screamed." 
 
 " You made me feel too much at home that's what 
 it really was. You reminded me so much of my sister, 
 I kept thinking you were her." 
 
 To tell women they were like his sister was one of 
 Major Boyle's favourite devices. Long experience had 
 taught him that most persons enjoy being told they are
 
 SUNDAY 79 
 
 like some one else, and that every person wholly enjoys 
 the subsequent discussion of their own looks that the 
 subject is sure to raise ; and whenever he found himself 
 at a loss he invariably made the same remark, " You 
 really are very like my sister ! " 
 
 " What's your sister like?" asked Mrs. Eddy Eaton, 
 rising at once like a trout. 
 
 The major scrutinized her face. " Her eyebrows 
 are not so well marked, but her eyes are just the same 
 colour. Her nose is like yours, and her chin but it's 
 the general expression, you know, more than any one 
 feature," continued the astute major, whose conversation 
 appeared to Mrs. Eddy full of force and observation. 
 
 Blanche wrote letters till lunch. The little octagonal 
 drawing-room was full of violets, and a flood of sparkling 
 sunshine streamed in at the open window. Out on the 
 lawn Major Eoyle, who had taken off his coat and hat, 
 was performing feats of strength and skill, to an admiring 
 ring that stood around. He was beautifully made 
 according to his size, and rather gloried in the agility 
 bigger, clumsier men seldom possess. But Mortimer 
 left them after a bit, and strolling across the lawn, 
 came in at Blanche's open window. 
 
 "I wish you'd help me," he said, "I've got a most 
 beastly letter to write." 
 
 Blanche was the sort of woman to whom every 
 one read their letters ; what they did when she was not 
 by, was not so much the point as that they always 
 went to her when they could. Men were sure to 
 read her their business letters, and consult her about 
 technical details, they never seemed to think she could
 
 80 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 not understand. Miles could never write anything, 
 neither a trivial note nor an important document, 
 without reading it all out to her first ; and Mortimer, 
 when he could, was almost equally dependent. 
 
 "How do you think this sounds?" he began, quite 
 ignoring Lady Mabel, who was just in the act of 
 begging Mrs. Heythrop to write an excuse in answer 
 to an unwelcome invitation she herself had not the 
 most remote idea what to say. 
 
 " Suppose we go and see old Dawlish," Eddy Eaton 
 proposed at lunch. "I want Royle to see his stud 
 farm, and Beatrice wants to hear what was the end of 
 the run yesterday. You'll come, won't you ? " he asked 
 Angela Sunsutton. 
 
 Sir David Dawlish was one of the few local magnates 
 with whom the Castle cared to fraternise, a deadly fear 
 of being bored warning them off most of the sober halls 
 and respectably moated Granges of the neighbourhood. 
 
 But Sir David belonged to other than a [provincial 
 world, and set his clocks to a faster pace than his county 
 neighbours. His racing reputation alone made his name 
 an international one, and no one need suffer from ennui 
 who could listen to his cheerful vigorous conversation, 
 replete as it was with the very latest expression in slang, 
 and liberally garnished with the broad county patois that 
 he had learned to perfection from his local grooms. 
 
 The duchess was delighted to go. Sir David was 
 a dear, she said, and just the sort of man one could 
 never meet too often. 
 
 " What sort of a man is that ? " asked several voices 
 eagerly.
 
 SUNDAY 81 
 
 But Angela refused to be drawn. 
 
 "Let us all go," Mrs. Eddy Eaton exclaimed. 
 " Lady Dawlish always goes to sleep on Sunday after- 
 noon, so she will never know what a host we are." 
 
 "I can take four in my car; the back seat holds 
 three with ease," cried Major Royle, who was as pleased 
 as any child with a new toy. 
 
 "I must walk, I am getting over-weight," Miles 
 said gravely. "Blanche can walk any distance. She 
 nearly walked me off my legs the other day," he 
 continued in aggrieved tones. 
 
 " It didn't seem long to me," Blanche answered. 
 
 " It's Miles's conversation that carries one along, 
 I've noticed it myself," added Mrs. Eddy; there was a 
 general feeling that Miles was entitled to considerate 
 treatment that day. 
 
 Time never hung heavy at Castle Loftus, there was 
 always something to do, which is much the same thing 
 as being able to do what you like ; the Eatons were so 
 fond of novelty themselves that nothing their guests 
 might do would have seemed to them absurd. " Carpe 
 diem," was their motto, whether they were aware of 
 it or not or whether, for the matter of that, they could 
 have any of them translated the words. 
 
 It was "Carpe diem" with Blanche and Mortimer 
 that afternoon, but the will was stronger and the spirit 
 so much the more intense, and they only wearied to 
 shake off| their companions, and get right well away 
 from them all. There was a buoyant sense of tartness 
 in the air that denoted a frost to come, and the world 
 they traversed that still autumn afternoon was fair as 
 
 F
 
 82 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 it well could be. Between dried heather and furze 
 bushes a broken path led across the sandy brake ; the 
 open common was on every hand, fading beautifully 
 into a soft purplish blue in the distance, and rising 
 darkly in front against a long rosy sky, where Loftus 
 Beacon stood out clearly against the level sun. 
 
 "We are going round by the Beacon, are we not?" 
 Blanche had asked Victoria, as they all started off. 
 
 But there were many paths across Loftus Brake, and 
 the party became separated by degrees, so that Keppel 
 and Blanche were soon walking alone, accompanied 
 only by Victoria's three dogs, who preferred to keep 
 pace with the advance party. Blanche rather non- 
 plussed Keppel at first no one could more readily hold 
 out the right hand of fellowship than she, but no one 
 was at the same time more adroit at keeping her friends 
 at a distance. To be treated by Blanche as the very 
 best of good comrades was all very well in its way, but 
 Keppel wanted more. A superficial observer might 
 frequently have accused Blanche Heythrop of lack of 
 sentiment, it was Keppel's contrary knowledge that 
 made him so insatiable. And now, though the veil 
 between herself and Keppel had grown thin to trans- 
 parency, and though the satisfaction he experienced in 
 being with her was only to be measured by her own 
 felicity, she spoke of anything and everything but love 
 as they walked on side by side. It was a difficult 
 friendship, and Blanche felt bound to observe her own 
 rules. She scarcely knew how much her life was 
 dominated by his a domination of the sort is usually 
 subconscious but she relied on him without question,
 
 SUNDAY 83 
 
 never doubting his point of view ; and as they talked 
 on, he was scarcely surprised to find how well versed 
 she was in all the salient points of his particular part 
 of the recent campaign, he had learnt ere this what a 
 singular aptitude she had for grasping things she could 
 by no possibility have experienced. She spoke of battle, 
 murder, and sudden death, with keen solicitude; she 
 discussed staff officers from the soldier's point of view, 
 and parliamentary affairs with an acumen all her own. 
 She plied Keppel with so many apposite questions, that 
 at one moment he was surprised by the amount he 
 knew, and at the next amazed at the depth of his own 
 ignorance. He was a clever man, and enjoyed, as a 
 person of wits must, meeting, and being able to hold 
 his own, with some one as clever as he ; besides which, 
 Blanche's conversation whetted his appetite in a curious 
 way she made him feel so acutely alive, and infused a 
 streak of passionate desire into subjects that had never 
 interested him before. He never wondered how it was 
 she knew so much, being a modest man it did not occur 
 to him that any of it should have come from himself; 
 but it was no use evading the fact or trying not to care, 
 he might have met every woman in the world without 
 ever feeling as he did now if Blanche had not been 
 included in the number. She answered his every desire, 
 and responded to all his ideas. Her engrossing con- 
 versation kept all his faculties at work, and prevented 
 him thinking of other things, which was perhaps what 
 Blanche intended. He was, however, keenly aware of 
 her all the time, even to noticing the fugitive whiff of a 
 faint scent he knew and had loved of old, and as they
 
 84 THE EDDY EATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 talked he looked down at her flushed and eager face, 
 noticing every shade of expression, and listening to 
 every tone of her voice, with an appreciation that 
 almost amounted to sorrow. Miles, for all his belief 
 in Blanche, had never looked at her in that sort of way, 
 it was also totally different to the fatuous stare with 
 which Mr. Eddy Eaton regarded his beautiful duchess. 
 
 The questions Blanche had been saving up took long 
 to answer, they had gained the Beacon on the brow of 
 the moorland before she paused. The dogs still held 
 on, but the rest of the party were long since lost to 
 view. Victoria, claiming Wellington as her own, with 
 all the zest of forbidden fruit, had struck down a deep 
 cart track and vanished quite early in the afternoon. 
 Miles, left with Lord Inchgarvie and another, was 
 gradually forgetting his grievances, over the interest of 
 explaining all the advantage and intricacy accruing to 
 a New River share, one of which was shortly to revert 
 to the wholly apathetic Scottish peer, who could not be 
 brought to see the distinction of possessing a king's 
 share and having a seat on the board. 
 
 " You may as well make hay while the sun shines, 
 it will all be changed soon," Miles declared. 
 
 But Lord Inchgarvie was fondly dwelling in his own 
 mind on the becoming shape of Victoria's hat. They 
 were, however, far behind, bearing away to the left, having 
 quite forgotten that Loftus Beacon was to have been the 
 object of their walk. 
 
 Life can be so perfect at times it becomes easy to 
 realize what heaven is like. It was Blanche who 
 wondered at the bounteous hours; Keppel accepted it
 
 SUNDAY 85 
 
 all without thought. But a silence fell between them 
 as they climbed to the Beacon, and paused to take 
 breath at the top. They stood in a golden mist with a 
 soft shadowy land far below, and Blanche, who had no 
 desire to gain a lover and lose a friend, tried to distract 
 his attention almost impatiently. 
 
 " Look at that sky ! Did you ever see such a 
 sunset ? " she cried. 
 
 The sky was brilliant gold, and the atmosphere so 
 dazzling that the land they had left behind was become 
 altogether invisible. The glossy spaniel, racing round, 
 was a black silhouette against the light, and the tawny 
 little terrier was outlined with a halo of gold. 
 
 "It is going to freeze," Blanche said in her pretty 
 voice. 
 
 " So long as you are not going to freeze, the weather 
 may jolly well do what it pleases. If I did not know you 
 were made of gold, Blanche, I should sometimes think 
 you were made of steel." 
 
 " We all seem made of gold up here to-night," she 
 replied, suddenly realizing that the power of talking 
 small talk had completely deserted her. 
 
 When they arrived at Castle Loftus on Friday 
 evening, they had looked forward to hours of each 
 other's society, and now they were both of them 
 jealously counting the minutes. Keppel rested on his 
 stick with his hand against his side. 
 
 "You are sometimes very sweet, Blanche, and 
 divinely kind, but you never let yourself go." 
 
 " Oh, Mortimer, how can you ! " 
 
 "You don't. You're always thinking it's not wise,
 
 86 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 or it's not proper, as if there ever was any sort of 
 pleasure in things that are wise and proper ! How can 
 you expect me to sympathize with that ? " 
 
 Blanche drew nearer and slipped her hand into his 
 arm ; she said he was unreasonable, and never put 
 himself in her place. 
 
 He drew her hand gently through his arm, and they 
 strolled on together. 
 
 " I love being unkind to you, Blanche ; I should have 
 made such a cruel husband if we had been married." 
 
 " I know you would ; but you needn't think I should 
 have cared." 
 
 "We would never have bickered, though, I could 
 never stand that. My word would be law, and my smile 
 your greatest reward." 
 
 " That's not my idea of felicity," she objected. " I 
 could never, never obey." 
 
 "You'd obey me right enough. I see myself being 
 browbeat by my wife ! " 
 
 " I'm a great deal more obstinate than you would 
 suppose, and I'm often ashamed of my temper." 
 
 " You've never been angry with me. I'm not afraid 
 of that, dear." 
 
 " What a lovely sunset ! " exclaimed Blanche, a 
 little desperately. 
 
 " Damn the sunset ! I shall not be able to see your 
 face soon." 
 
 " When I am away from you, Mortimer, I often try 
 to remember what you're like. Of course, I really know, 
 but when I'm with you, I never look at your face." 
 
 " What do you look at, then ? "
 
 SUNDAY 87 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure ; and I can't explain it to 
 you if I did." 
 
 " You've got far too much imagination, that's what 
 it is ; you imagine so much, you forget where the reality 
 ends. I'd rather you looked things straight in the face, 
 especially myself. I always wonder what you're thinking 
 about when you do." 
 
 " What you would be like if you were really angry 
 angry with me, I mean ? I often think of that." 
 
 "I expect so much of you, dearest, that if I was 
 angry, I should probably be very angry indeed." 
 
 "How awful!" said Blanche. "Polite men are 
 always so cutting and cruel. I would sooner be abused 
 in the ordinary way." 
 
 "I could do that, too," he assured her. Then he 
 looked at her with a jealous air. " What do you know 
 about abuse in any case ? " 
 
 "Nothing nothing to speak of. Abuse is the sincerest 
 form of flattery, Angela says. The only people who ever 
 scold her, or find fault, are her truest friends; she has had 
 so much flattery, I think she quite enjoys it for a change." 
 
 " What's that about a woman, a dog, and a walnut 
 tree, the more you beat them, the better they be ? 
 Angela's exactly that sort. " 
 
 " She may be," Blanche admitted doubtfully. 
 
 " All right, my love, I never said you were ! You 
 should be treated with kindness, you overdo the Spartan 
 business as it is." 
 
 "Poor Angela," observed Blanche, "she was so 
 fond of Charlie !" 
 
 " Poor Angela ! " echoed Keppel. " Awfully hard hit,
 
 88 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 wasn't she ? I'm almost sorry I didn't kiss her now ; I 
 believe she is accustomed to being kissed when she cries. 
 But I only like kissing women who don't want to be kissed." 
 
 " Men were certainly intended to be fools they are 
 such beasts when they are not." 
 
 " Angela is a beauty, any man beside her is bound 
 to be a beast ! " 
 
 Blanche admired the duchess immensely, and was 
 willing enough to discuss her charms. 
 
 "Why don't you say something? You know you 
 admire her, too." 
 
 " Say ? " repeated Keppel, a little absently. " He 
 said, ' She has a lovely face. God in His mercy has 
 made her her Grace ! ' There's not much more to be 
 said about Angela, is there ? " 
 
 "There's more in her than you would think," 
 persisted Blanche. 
 
 "Perhaps so, but I'm not very fond of beautiful 
 women. The woman I adore is divine." 
 
 "Oh, don't ! " cried Blanche, still clinging to his 
 arm ; " it isn't really kind to speak to me like that. I 
 sometimes think you should go away." 
 
 " Where the deuce should I go to, unless to the devil ? 
 I should be bound to come back to England, after a bit." 
 
 " If you went big-game shooting, don't you suppose 
 you might forget ? " she suggested hesitatingly. 
 
 " The biggest slaughterer can't go on shootin' big 
 game for ever, and it would require a lifetime before I 
 should forget you," he answered briefly. 
 
 Blanche sighed a little weariedly. " We had better 
 be going back, I'm rather tired," she said.
 
 SUNDAY 89 
 
 "I've brought you too far," he answered, growing 
 compunctuous, as he always did, if Blanche made the 
 smallest allusion to herself. 
 
 She had succeeded in turning his thoughts, however, 
 and then immediately regretted having done so ; to be 
 cared for by Keppel was a sensation to which she had 
 been for too long a stranger. 
 
 " I'm never really tired when I am with you," she 
 hastened to explain. 
 
 He looked at .her ruefully. " But you're with me so 
 seldom ! You may be tiring yourself to death for all the 
 good that I can do. You don't know how to take care of 
 yourself, and I can't tell you what your life means to me." 
 
 His dejected attitude made her miserable, till he 
 scowled ; then she was reassured. The strenuous man 
 who can scowl ceases to be a problem, and she turned 
 away to call the dogs. 
 
 Several eager men were striving who should teach the 
 duchess bridge that evening. " Promise not to get cross 
 with me," she implored ; while they vowed and swore such a 
 thing was not possible even to imagine. Blanche was glad 
 to observe that Miles was one of the favoured trio ; she 
 was genuinely sorry for her husband, and full of faith in 
 the charms of Angela Sunsutton. With a dull ache at her 
 heart, for the time was now so short, she collected all the 
 weekly magazines, and settled herself comfortably on the 
 staircase, where she was soon joined by Mrs. Eddy Eaton, 
 who regarded Blanche with an odd sort of curiosity ; she 
 could not comprehend her, but hoped to do so one day, and 
 meanwhile lost no opportunity for an interchange of views.
 
 90 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 "I always forget, Mrs. Heythrop, if you have any 
 children ? That is, of course, I know you've none, but I 
 always forget whether I should ask after them or not. You 
 seem much too clever to have been worried with a family." 
 
 Blanche laughed. " I'm not clever, nor am I a 
 joyful mother of children, though I'm not sure they are 
 always unmixed joy." 
 
 "Anything but ! " exclaimed Mrs. Eddy Eaton, fer- 
 vently. "When they're infants, one can leave them to their 
 nurses ; and when they're children, one can snub them and 
 have a good governess ; but when they come out and begin 
 having views of their own, is the trying time. Daughters 
 are bad enough, thank Heaven I have no sons. Eddy 
 would have been the worst companion possible for a boy ; 
 and one could not have warned him off his own father." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton was conspicuous for the things 
 she proclaimed from the housetop ; nothing was sacred 
 to her, just as nothing was private. She had dragged 
 all the family skeletons so persistently into view that 
 they had at last begun to put on flesh, and almost 
 ceased to be skeletons at all. 
 
 " Of course, I should not for a moment call Eddy's 
 and mine an ideal marriage," she continued. " We 
 understand each other thoroughly, and I never inter- 
 fere Eddy lives, and I let live. I dare say I live too 
 at times," she added honestly. 
 
 Blanche laughed, and looked down at her maligned 
 host, who was, at that moment, in the happy position 
 of instructing Angela. It necessitated a constant 
 whispering of words of counsel over her beautiful 
 shoulder, so that her golden locks almost swept his
 
 SUNDAY 91 
 
 face an intoxicating trick at which the duchess was an 
 adept, having been taught to play bridge ere this many 
 times by many men. 
 
 "You don't call that an ideal marriage, do you?" 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton persisted. 
 
 " I should call it a very good working arrangement ; it 
 is so difficult to tell what another person's ideal maybe." 
 
 " I never quite understand what ideals are. They're 
 much the same as illusions, aren't they? " 
 
 " Much the same," agreed Blanche, a little wistfully. 
 
 " What saves me is having no imagination," Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton continued. " I never imagined beforehand 
 what sort of qualities would be nice for a husband, so that 
 when I married I was able to take things exactly as they 
 came. It's lucky for me that I did, for I am sure Eddy 
 is not a bit the sort of husband I should have imagined." 
 
 " And yet one can generally tell the sort of man 
 who would make a good husband, I mean." 
 
 " You might be able to I couldn't ! You see, I 
 never have first impressions, because I'm not the least 
 bit impressionable. I know the men whose incomes are 
 normal and those whose incomes are abnormal ; and I 
 generally know whose sons they are, and how long their 
 fathers will probably live; but I never know anything 
 about their characters ; the other things are what one 
 has to think of first, you see." 
 
 " There are a few things one would surely bar," 
 suggested Blanche. 
 
 " Quite so," agreed her hostess. " But if everything 
 else is suitable, it is only foolish to be over particular. 
 Victoria's objections to Inchgarvie, for instance, what
 
 92 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 could be more childish and unreasonable? I can't 
 think where she gets them from certainly not from me." 
 
 "If she were fonder of him it would be easier; and 
 yet the odd thing is, that Lord Inchgarvie will make 
 such an excellent husband ! " 
 
 "Will he?" exclaimed Mrs. Eddy Eaton. "I 
 should never have guessed it myself ; and I'm perfectly 
 sure it's the last thing that would ever enter into the 
 calculations of a self-willed creature like Victoria. But 
 how do you know which men make good husbands, and 
 what are the signs ? Eddy, now, what would you say 
 about him ? At the same time, it's only fair to say that 
 Eddy is by no means a fool ; if he is not wise, he is at 
 least aware of his folly, and has the sense to recognize 
 the value of other people's brains. He thinks a lot of 
 you, Mrs. Heythrop, and the books you read. Though 
 I can't see myself how you ever find time for reading." 
 
 "One can generally find time for doing the things 
 one wants to do. But I'm not clever. Judging cha- 
 racters is instinct, and the most primitive person is 
 often the nicest judge. Even dogs have the instinct to 
 know who will make a good master." 
 
 " I have only known one man treat his wife like a 
 dog," Mrs. Eddy remarked thoughtfully. " But husbands 
 aren't masters mine isn't, at least. I should be sorry 
 to admit they were to the best of men, far less to a 
 man like Eddy, whose head is so easily turned." 
 
 " I shall make a most masterful husband," remarked 
 Mortimer Keppel from". above ; he had gone up one stair- 
 case to come down the other, where Blanche and his hostess 
 were sitting, so that he might join their conversation.
 
 SUNDAY 93 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton started. "We're talking about 
 husbands," she explained. " Mrs. Heythrop declares 
 she can tell in a moment if a man would make a good 
 husband or not. She's very clever, you know, and an 
 excellent judge of men." 
 
 Keppel seated himself a few steps higher up. " You 
 know nothing bad of them, I'll be bound," he replied, 
 in complacent tones. 
 
 " On the contrary, we were trying to find out if 
 there was any good," cried Mrs. Eddy Eaton. "They 
 say women judge all men by their husbands, whether 
 they will or no. It biasses you, I must acknowledge, 
 and no doubt makes you a little unjust, for familiarity 
 is so apt to breed contempt. But men are very much 
 alike, you must admit they are, Mr. Keppel." 
 
 " Women are not," said Mortimer, courteously. 
 " They differ as one star from another in glory ; but 
 only one in ten thousand is a competent judge of men." 
 
 "It is just as rare to find a man who understands 
 women," objected Mrs. Eddy Eaton. "They are so 
 rare I could count the ones I know on the fingers of 
 one hand. Eddy doesn't, not one little bit; he some- 
 times says the cruellest things without ever guessing he 
 is hurting your feelings, and he never by any chance 
 remembers your likes or dislikes. Welcome, now, is 
 so different : he never says a word too much, or presses 
 you with awkward questions. He is quite prepared for 
 you to forget things he asks you to do, and does not 
 even get cross if you forget to send off his wires ; he 
 knows how many excuses one has, and makes allowance 
 for everything. He is so kind and sympathetic too :
 
 94 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 if you had done something most foolish, and the con- 
 sequences were all your own fault, he would never 
 dream of telling you so." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton paused, more from want of breath 
 than because the subject was exhausted. 
 
 " And yet you would be furious if he proposed to 
 Victoria ! " Blanche observed. 
 
 " One can't afford to think of a man's character in 
 an important matter like marriage ; and Welcome's too 
 much a man of the world to go and do a silly thing like 
 that," replied Mrs. Eddy Eaton, in confident tones. 
 
 "Character is the only thing I shall think of in 
 choosing my wife," remarked Keppel. 
 
 " What about her face ? " asked Blanche. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," joined in Mrs. Eddy Eaton; "all 
 men are so influenced by looks, they judge women by 
 nothing else, in fact ! " 
 
 " I couldn't live with a fool, be she ever so beautiful. 
 I can't abide a face unless it changes continually. My 
 wife must have lots of expression. I should never get 
 tired of an expressive face," said Keppel, surveying 
 Blanche Heythrop from under his eyelashes. 
 
 " So few people have any expression," objected Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton, as she looked slowly all round the hall. 
 
 " You come across it now and then, and when you do, 
 you never ask yourself whether it is a pretty face or not, 
 you only want to see it again and again at least, I do," 
 continued Keppel; but Blanche looked down impassively 
 at the picture magazines, and refused to catch his eye. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton stared at him with great interest. 
 "All that would be Greek to Eddy, you know. He
 
 SUNDAY 95 
 
 would never think of marrying a woman for her ex- 
 pression, he likes good looks." 
 
 " I perceive he does ! " agreed Mortimer, with a little 
 bow. Then he bent forward. " I thought you were 
 going to tell us your views on husbands, Mrs. Heythrop. 
 I should so much like to hear." 
 
 " So should I," echoed Mrs. Eddy Eaton. " Then one 
 could draw comparisons. What is your idea of marriage ? " 
 
 " As much affection as possible, and as little inter- 
 ference," Blanche answered, smiling a little; it always 
 amused her to treat Keppel like a stranger. 
 
 "Rather a wide definition. How much affection 
 would you think possible ? " he asked. 
 
 " One can't always let one's self go ! " said Blanche, 
 referring to their conversation of the afternoon. 
 
 "Of course not," Mrs. Eddy Eaton agreed; she did 
 not know the conversation had any but the obvious 
 meaning ; "it would never do it makes a man above 
 himself at once. If you love your husband, you're a fool 
 to ever let him know it. I, myself, am really very fond of 
 Eddy, yet I am sure no one would ever guess the fact." 
 
 " I'll be bothered if I'll let my wife hide her affection. 
 I don't see the fun of that ; there's a limit to self-control," 
 Mortimer observed, rather pointedly. 
 
 "As to you and your wife, Mr. Keppel, you expect 
 far too much. I'm quite sure you have never met this 
 paragon you are always describing," Mrs. Eddy Eaton 
 replied. 
 
 "I don't know about that," Mortimer said evasively. 
 Then he pressed once more for Blanche's views on 
 husbands. " I should have thought your ideal of a
 
 96 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 husband was a man a good deal like myself. Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton's is, I'm sure ? " 
 
 " It's not a fair question to ask either of us when 
 our husbands are by. I'm not going to have Eddy 
 insulted in his own house," exclaimed Mrs. Eddy, with 
 some tardy recollection of her marriage vows. 
 
 " All questions are fair in discussions on love or war. 
 My wife would know her ideal too well to hesitate," 
 he persisted, still thirsting to hear his own character 
 described by Blanche. 
 
 "As to hesitating, the question is simple enough, 
 the ideal marriage is marriage with a duke. On the 
 whole, I consider a duke more satisfactory than a foreign 
 prince, certainly than a morganatic one; morganatic 
 marriages always seem to me like gingerbread without 
 any of the gilt, and in marriage the gilt is everything, 
 you know." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton could never be accused of lack of 
 opinions, or of the necessary courage to express them. 
 
 Mortimer raised his eyebrows. "I have no great 
 opinion of the gilded youth myself, the elderly commoner 
 is a much more romantic type." 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy Eaton had turned to Blanche. " Per- 
 haps you have never met your ideal of a husband, 
 Mrs. Heythrop?" 
 
 "What price Miles?" exclaimed Major Eoyle, join- 
 ing their conversation, to be followed by various other 
 members of the party who also gathered round the stair- 
 case ; the discussion acted like a magnet, for most persons 
 have views on marriage, if they know no other subject. 
 
 " Impossible ! " declared Keppel, answering for
 
 SUNDAY 97 
 
 Blanche himself. " Mrs. Heythrop met her ideal a long 
 time ago." 
 
 Miles, who had drawn near, was not slow to join 
 the discussion. He was always genuinely interested in 
 his wife, and often puzzled, as he had never been able 
 to discover just how much of everything she really knew. 
 
 " Thanks, Keppel," he said, nodding complacently in his 
 direction, "no need to be more personal. Some men show 
 amazing sense in the women theymarry. Thank Heaven, 
 I'm one of that sort. Marriage is an awful lottery else." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton fully endorsed his lottery view of 
 the case, which reminded her once more of the impending 
 proceedings between Sybil and her husband. 
 
 " No one knows the rights of the case," she continued. 
 
 " We all seem to know the wrongs ! " responded 
 Miles, as they plunged with mutual consent into a 
 technical discussion on the laws of divorce, with which 
 subject they both appeared singularly well-informed. 
 
 Under cover of their argument, Blanche turned to 
 Keppel. 
 
 " How could you be so odious ? You made me quite 
 uncomfortable ! " 
 
 She leant back against the bannisters as she spoke, 
 and looked him in the face at last. Her dark hair, a 
 little disarranged, fell low on her forehead. She was 
 indignant, and the necessity of suppressing her indigna- 
 tion had brought a clear glow of colour into her face, for 
 her complexion was as variable as even Keppel desired ; 
 but the expression in her dark blue eyes was enigmatic. 
 A great deal of art about the soft folds of her white silk 
 dress had produced a careless effect of subtle simplicity,
 
 98 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 but her heart beat more quickly than usual under the 
 delicate network of lace that was draped over her shoulders. 
 
 " I like playing with fire, and I like to see you change 
 your expression. But you might have said a good word 
 for an old friend, when he took so much trouble to give 
 you a lead! You have some sort of opinion of me, 
 haven't you, Blanche ? " 
 
 "My dear Mortimer " she began, still in the 
 
 same tones. 
 
 But Mortimer interrupted her. " Anything in tbe 
 world, if only you will call me dear Mortimer ! " 
 
 " I should leave by the early train, but I'm too low- 
 spirited to get up at six. We'll go by the 10.15," said 
 Miles, as every one began to say good night. 
 
 " Which reminds me, Mrs. Heythrop. What about 
 your ghost ? You haven't seen him yet, have you ? " 
 asked Wellington Guest. 
 
 " It's not that sort of ghost ! " Mrs. Eddy Eaton 
 declared; "it's something fiscal or psychic I forget 
 the correct term ; and you must have something on 
 your mind, else it won't haunt you at all. I should 
 have thought you were just the sort of person to see it, 
 Blanche ; it only affects cultivated minds. Eddy has 
 slept there times without number, and only dreamt he 
 had gone to a levee in in What was it in, Eddy ? " 
 
 " Little enough ! " responded her husband, dryly. 
 
 Ignoring a hilarious request for further details, Mrs. 
 EddyEatoncontinuedher explanation of thehauntedroom. 
 
 " If you had committed a murder, now," she ex- 
 plained, " you would be haunted all night through by 
 dreams of nothing else. If you have nothing of any
 
 SUNDAY 99 
 
 importance on your mind, why, of course, you sleep like 
 a Christian; but people have often told me -what singularly 
 vivid sort of dreams they have had in that room." 
 
 " I haven't committed a murder, I'm afraid," said 
 Blanche. 
 
 " I only mentioned murder for an instance ; if you 
 were in debt or in love, for the matter of that it 
 would have just the same effect." 
 
 " Are we in debt, Miles ? " asked Blanche. 
 
 ' ' Perhaps you are in love ? " suggested Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 " All married women are in love with their husbands, 
 I mean," observed Major Koyle, piously. 
 
 " I have heard that nothing idealizes a person so 
 much as for one to dream about him," began the 
 duchess, ingenuously. 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy Eaton did not see that point. " I've 
 dreamt of my dressmaker before this, and I've often dreamt 
 of Eddy. Oh, there's nothing in that theory, I'm sure." 
 
 Mortimer Keppel waited at the foot of the staircase, 
 and bowed low over Blanche's hand as he said good night. 
 
 "Won't you tell me what your room is haunted 
 with ? " he asked. 
 
 " Some people are haunted by a ghost of the past. It 
 often worries me to think of all the silly things I have done." 
 
 " Don't talk of the past. I often wonder if I lived 
 at all before we met. God knows what life would be 
 without you, Blanche ! " 
 
 At the top of the staircase she paused for a moment 
 and looked back. Keppel was a tall, spare man, with 
 an indefinable air of his own that made him the most 
 distinguished figure in almost every sort of company.
 
 100 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 Blanche had the keenest appreciation for all his points ; 
 they gave her a sort of pride, in which she dared not 
 indulge ; and to-night she was more than ever sensible 
 of his charm. He was still standing behind the palms, 
 just as she had left him, his well-groomed head was a 
 little bent, and he had not yet lit the cigarette that he 
 held in his hand. She only paused an instant, but as 
 she turned away he looked up, and for that instant they 
 caught each other's eyes. 
 
 Whether due to the conversation on ghosts or not, 
 Blanche slept but little that night. She watched the 
 fire burn down and the firelight die away. It was too 
 much love of living that kept her awake; her pulses 
 were beating, and a wild, tearing wind seemed to be 
 blowing on her face. She let her fancy run riot, and 
 even the downpour of rain failed to check her madness ; 
 for the promised frost had broken after all, and she 
 could hear the rain dripping heavily outside. Yet it 
 was not a ghost of the past that was haunting her 
 to-night. She and Mortimer had been friends long 
 before he went to Africa ; Miles himself had brought 
 them together, and done all he could to encourage the 
 friendship, being rather proud that his wife should be 
 able to hold her own with Mortimer Keppel, and rather 
 glad that his own friendship should be thus cemented. 
 
 Blanche had married Miles on nothing more than a 
 rather strong predilection, with the idea that her rather 
 reasonable affection would ripen with time into something 
 more deep, or in any case prove more reliable than the 
 glamour of a blind devotion, always so liable to bring 
 its own awakening; and so far her lot had fully justified
 
 SUNDAY 101 
 
 her sentiments. Miles would have married her at the 
 time in spite of any qualms or questionings, and when 
 she openly told him of her feelings, only laughed at her 
 scruples and begged her to fix the wedding-day. He 
 loved constant movement and excitement, into which he 
 counted on Blanche entering with as much zest as he, 
 and he never thought which saved him from ever fully 
 comprehending his wife, or wondering if the depth in 
 her nature was to be so lightly satisfied. She found 
 him always a good companion, who at the same time 
 expected her to find her own amusements. She sympa- 
 thized with most of his tastes, and shared many of his 
 friends ; his claims on her affection were not hard to 
 satisfy. Marriage is always a hazard to persons whose 
 feelings are deep and whose characters are strong ; few 
 other men would have made her even half as happy ; 
 and fully realizing this, Blanche, who was tolerant, had 
 grown to have a great deal of affection for Miles. With 
 his insatiable love of gaiety and fun, it would have been 
 at her own cost had she cultivated anything more, and 
 so far their life had been a distinct success. 
 
 Then Blanche met Keppel, and was amazed to find 
 what a deeper, fuller, more rapturous meaning everything 
 had begun to have. Before he went to Africa she had 
 not been sure not until he kissed her in the shed at 
 Southampton. Now that he had come back and they 
 had met again, she knew that life was love; but she 
 still called it friendship, and valued it as something 
 much too precious to jeopardize. Always a difficult 
 position to persons of less force of character it might 
 easily have been an illicit one ; but had Miles been a
 
 102 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 much more captious husband than he -was, there was 
 nothing for him to say. He was accustomed to men 
 talking over their private affairs with Blanche ; he him- 
 self went straight to her in every difficulty, and never 
 wondered that they should do likewise. No doubt even 
 the discussion of dry matters, like State secrets, entailed 
 a certain amount of intimacy ; but he was glad he had 
 married a woman whose brain was strong enough for such 
 confidence. He himself corresponded regularly with Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton, and considered Angela Sunsutton quite the 
 most beautiful woman in the world, so why should he 
 restrict Blanche in any friendship she might choose to 
 make ? There are two modes of procuring safety the 
 most popular being to erect firm barricades and fasten 
 all the gates ; the other being to have no barriers and 
 to leave open all the gates, which last, if Miles might be 
 said to hold any views of life, was certainly his. 
 
 A great deal is sometimes expected of human nature, 
 and under a strain the weak are very prone to fail. But 
 Blanche kept a stiff upper lip all through the dark hours 
 of the long black night. She almost smiled when she 
 thought of the ghost not only her own particular room, 
 but the whole of Castle Loftus would always be haunted 
 to her by Mortimer Keppel. She loved every stone of 
 the place, and would gladly have slept every night of 
 her life in a haunted room if it were to bring her such 
 wide, strong dreams. Keppel's individuality always 
 gave her new life. Nothing restricted his views; he 
 saw in so many directions at once, and he saw so far. 
 After which she slept at last and dreamt of nothing but 
 Loftus Beacon against a blazing yellow sky.
 
 MONDAY MORNING 
 
 How heavy do I journey on the way, 
 
 When what I seek, my weary travel's end, 
 
 Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, 
 
 " Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend ! " 
 
 SHAKESPEARE.
 
 MONDAY MORNING 
 
 Castle Loftus. 
 
 IT was raining steadily next morning, a mild grey 
 downpour, with a damp mist lying low all over 
 the wet landscape ; the trees dripped with mois- 
 ture, and the undergrowth was a sodden colour- 
 less mass. The prismatic radiance of ; the day before 
 had vanished like a dream, heath and holt and autumnal 
 plantation having clothed themselves in a depth of 
 gloom that gave no promise of any change. Blanche 
 was always influenced by the atmosphere, but Miles's 
 was a much more equable temperament. 
 
 "Miserable weather," said Blanche, as she looked 
 out at the damp park. 
 
 "Kainin', isn't it?" answered Miles, indifferently. 
 " Angela has promised to go with us to the play to-night. 
 What do you say to Garden for a fourth ? and where do 
 you think we should sup ? " 
 
 The Monday morning that concludes a week-end 
 visit is always a crowded hour. Every one had to get 
 somewhere before night, and railway time-tables were 
 sought for in haste. Mrs. Eddy Eaton had never caught 
 a train on her own merit in her life, and never attempted 
 to catch her guests'.
 
 106 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Leave it to the coachman," she said ; " if you miss 
 the train I shall consider it his fault entirely." 
 
 " Hullo ! " exclaimed Victoria, who was seated on the 
 low guard by the fire skimming through the morning 
 paper. " Lady Sylvia Kent is going to marry Jimmy 
 Avon ! " 
 
 The news electrified the entire party, and every one 
 stopped eating. Lady Sylvia, a gay worldling of much 
 individuality, had been a widow for only six months. 
 
 " What ! " cried Eddy Eaton. " The boy's young 
 enough to be her son." 
 
 " He's a good deal younger than her son ; Jimmy 
 only came of age last month," Victoria replied, as she 
 read the notice out aloud. 
 
 News had to be a little astounding to arrest the Eddy 
 Eatons, but Lady Sylvia's preposterous career had made 
 her a subject well worth discussion. That she should 
 marry some one had only been a question of how long 
 the man she selected would remain proof against her 
 charms ; that she should marry Lord Pdngwood's 
 youngest son, a penniless youth who had scarcely 
 attained his majority, was a sufficient puzzle to interest 
 the most careless mind. 
 
 " She ought to be tried for child-stealing," Major 
 Royle observed, as he recovered from the shock, and 
 proceeded to help himself to marmalade. 
 
 " If I were Eingwood I should send him back to 
 school. Why, it can only be the other day I was tipping 
 him at Eton," Eddy Eaton said. 
 
 " One would have thought she had children enough 
 of her own without marrying another," responded his
 
 MONDAY MOENING 107 
 
 wife. "Give me the paper, Victoria; I shall never 
 believe it till I've seen it in black and white." 
 
 Miles was equally diverted. " She was always de- 
 voted to children. Told me once she would have a 
 hundred if she could, Quite in keeping for her to marry 
 one. What ! " 
 
 "All the Avon boys are divinely handsome, and 
 Jimmy's the handsomest," responded the duchess, 
 ignoring his confidences. " I shall hear all about it 
 from her sister ; I'm going to lunch with her to-day." 
 
 "Wellington Guest looked straight across the table at 
 Victoria. 
 
 " Ton my soul, there seems to be no recognized dis- 
 parity in anything nowadays," he remarked, with a 
 gleeful twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 Only Blanche and Mortimer were indifferent to the 
 news, and had not forgotten that the carriage for the 
 station would be round in a few minutes more. He 
 was going to Melton with Major Koyle in his motor- 
 car, and as the Heythrops were travelling to town by 
 the express, they would part at the Castle with not 
 one more lingering chance of being for a moment 
 alone. 
 
 Blanche stood in the hall buttoning her gloves, with 
 a look about her mouth only Keppel understood. "Tears 
 from the depth of some divine despair ! " she murmured 
 to herself, feeling sad enough. But Mrs. Eddy Eaton, 
 all unaware of an invisible tragedy, was anxious to hear 
 the latest account of Lord Heythrop. 
 
 "I think Miles said you had a letter, didn't he? 
 But I could not make out what he said, and was half
 
 108 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 afraid to ask ; people do have such very peculiar illnesses 
 you know." 
 
 " I expect he said 'angina pectoris.' Miles has such 
 an awful trick of running his words one into another." 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy Eaton was not much wiser, and 
 Blanche had to further explain. At last all the various 
 calls on her attention were attended to, and looking 
 round the hall her eyes were immediately caught by 
 Keppel's. 
 
 "I wish all these confounded people were cleared 
 away. Why do they never leave us alone, Blanche ? " 
 he said, coming towards her with a sorrowful scowl. 
 
 Blanche buttoned her last button, and Keppel, with a 
 pang beyond speech or wrath, saw why it was she could 
 not speak. 
 
 "Don't, Blanche, for God's sake," he cried in a 
 strained sort of voice, longing fiercely that he might 
 comfort her, as he of all men alone knew how. 
 
 Blanche bit her under lip. "I can't manage this 
 button," she said with a little gasp, as she held out her 
 hand to Keppel. 
 
 " I've brought you a book to read in the train the 
 one I was speaking to you about yesterday afternoon. I 
 hope you won't mind it smelling of smoke." 
 
 Blanche seized the book eagerly; she was always 
 thankful for the intellectual side of their friendship. 
 
 "I love tobacco," she said, as she turned over the 
 pages, for Keppel smoked a special brand, and the least 
 whiff of it was sure to recall him at once. 
 
 " Write to me when you've read it, and tell me what 
 you think ; some of the views are mighty odd, and you're
 
 MONDAY MOKNING 109 
 
 more likely to understand them than I." He pointed 
 out the more peculiar chapters as he spoke, and then, 
 dismissing the subject, added in another voice : " Think 
 of me sometimes, Blanche, but not too often I'm not 
 worth it." 
 
 Still studying the book, she answered him at random. 
 
 " I think of you every day of my life, especially your 
 
 voice. You've no idea what a pretty voice you've got, 
 
 Blanche ; it almost turned me crazy when I first heard 
 
 it again." 
 
 The carriage wheels could be heard on the gravel 
 outside, and the impatient horses gnawing their bits at 
 the open door. 
 
 " We shall meet again," she began, repeating what 
 she had said before. 
 
 " I'm sure of you now, Blanche, aren't I ? It makes 
 all the difference to me, so you may as well acknowledge 
 the fact." 
 
 " I thought I had acknowledged it!" Blanche ad- 
 mitted which was their last confidence of any sort. 
 
 A footman came up to help Mortimer into his big 
 motor coat ; and Miles, with his hat in his hand, had 
 come to search for Blanche. 
 
 " There you are ! " he cried. " Only just in time to 
 catch the train, my dear girl ! You'll come and see us, 
 Keppel, won't you ? I can give you some shooting of 
 sorts, and a mount, if you want to hunt. We shall 
 never catch the train, Blanche ! But mind you don't 
 forget." 
 
 The footman closed the door of the brougham with a 
 brisk snap.
 
 110 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 "All right, fix it up with Blanche," continued Miles, 
 as he shouted his last injunctions to the footman in 
 such forcible language that Blanche was obliged to 
 interfere. 
 
 Some people live in a whirl ; Miles's life was of this 
 description, a sort of sustained tumult that swept all 
 weaker lives into the same breathless vortex. But the 
 uproar never affected Blanche; she looked across it 
 now at Keppel, and laughed. 
 
 " I'll write," he responded again, at which moment 
 the carriage started off. 
 
 " Lest we forget lest we forget ! " she repeated, and 
 laughed to herself at the absurdity of such an idea. 
 
 The rain never ceased ; the roads that had been so 
 crisp and firm the day before were inches deep in mud, 
 and the trees by the roadside dripped heavily on to the 
 draggled bramble leaves in the ditch. Blanche looked 
 out of the window at the wheels of the brougham splash- 
 ing through the pools, and wondered idly if they would 
 catch the train. It was a matter of some importance to 
 Miles, but of no moment to her ; she would as soon sit 
 for hours at a wayside station as do anything else that 
 morning, and only longed to be going home instead of 
 to town. The idea of lights and champagne and crowds 
 and voices went against all her inclinations ; but Miles 
 had to be thought of, and she must not throw him over. 
 If she could have gone home, it would have been better ; 
 in the peace of her own fireside, with her books and 
 flowers and personal belongings, she could have found 
 balm to her soul; but she did not want to speak to 
 people not for a bit. Yet Miles must be amused, it
 
 MONDAY MOEOTNG 111 
 
 was only fair, and a part of the compact she quite 
 recognized. He would have Angela, however, she was 
 thankful for that; she would have Walter Garden, 
 whose attentions irked her already in mere anticipation. 
 And yet Walter was usually considered charming ; but 
 Blanche was comparing him all the time to Mortimer 
 Keppel. She only wanted to "get away" where to, 
 she had as little idea as any one else, who at some one 
 or another time frames the same impotent wish. 
 
 Miles, meanwhile, was fussing and fuming over his 
 money affairs, and consulting hieroglyphic notes he had 
 jotted down in a pocket-book that only seemed to con- 
 fuse him further. 
 
 " In future I shall invest every penny I possess out 
 of England ; it's the only thing to do, I assure you," he 
 declared gloomily. 
 
 " I should throw away that horrid little book, if I 
 were you. It's never done you any good yet, and I'm 
 sure the calculations are all wrong." 
 
 " Angela added some of them up ; they're wrong, I 
 expect," Miles admitted. "Bather a pretty way she 
 has of writing figures, don't you think ? " and he passed 
 her the book. His face had begun to brighten, as he 
 leant back in the brougham and gazed out at the dreary 
 landscape, quite unaware it was either bleak or drear. 
 " She cheered me up a whole lot, I can tell you," he went 
 on, as he smoothed his moustache and reflected, like the 
 hedonist he was, on the many joys of life. "All the 
 same, Blanche, I shouldn't like to be married to her, 
 even if I could." 
 
 " Wouldn't you, dear ? " answered Blanche.
 
 112 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 There was something about Miles's atrocious candour 
 that always touched her he took it so much for granted 
 that she would never be jealous or tiresome, or worry 
 him with senseless questions like the generality of 
 women. She was leaning forward a little the better to 
 study the disquieting entries in the pocket-book, and 
 smiled to herself as she did so. Blanche always looked 
 very pretty when she smiled, and Miles removed his 
 eyes from the dripping landscape and turned to her fo r 
 a bit. 
 
 "The old man still seems rather bad, don't he? 
 What do you make of the doctor's letter? Looks a 
 little serious, don't you think ? But these doctors write 
 so indistinctly, else their pens are always rotten. Don't 
 tell me the symptoms," he exclaimed, as Blanche was 
 beginning to explain ; " the less one knows of illnesses 
 the better." He removed his mind from the unpleasant 
 theme as he spoke, and smoothed his moustache again. 
 "A jolly nice week-end. I will say this for the Eddy 
 Eatons they always know exactly who to ask." Then 
 he looked towards Blanche. " You enjoyed it too, 
 didn't you?" 
 
 " I always enjoy Castle Loftus, and I was so glad to 
 see Mortimer again and to hear all his news." 
 
 " So was I ! " he echoed ; Blanche's preference for 
 an individual always gave him a strong bias in the 
 same direction. " I wish now I had managed to see 
 more of him, he's worth the whole show put together ; 
 but time flies so, and Angela and Mrs. Eddy 
 Miles smiled fondly and broke off abruptly ; a man 
 could really have had no better excuse for dallying.
 
 MONDAY MOENING 113 
 
 " How happy could I be with either ! " Blanche 
 repeated lightly. 
 
 " Mortimer thinks a lot of you, my dear ; he said as 
 much last night. And, mind you, he's not a man to be 
 taken with every woman ! " Miles hoped she properly 
 appreciated the distinction, and Blanche laughed aloud. 
 Miles was sometimes extremely amusing. " Keppel's a 
 splendid fellow ; he's the sort of man I would like my 
 best sister to marry, or my very dearest friend. He's 
 the sort of man you might well have married yourself, 
 Blanche, if you hadn't married me. Can't for the life 
 of me see why he doesn't marry. I take it all that 
 palaver about a wife is only ragging, isn't it ? Mind you 
 write to him, anyway, and make him come down. I'm 
 always telling you to ask people down, and then you go 
 away and forget all about it." 
 
 This was perfectly untrue ; but in the odd moments 
 when he was not actually enjoying himself, Miles liked 
 nothing better than the solace of nursing a grievance, 
 genuine or otherwise. 
 
 "H' awful langwidge the /ionerable Mileses', but 
 spends his money like a lord," the tall footman observed 
 to the coachman, as he took his place on the box-seat 
 again after the train had left the station. 
 
 Eeinforced by half a dozen newspapers, the Hon. 
 Miles settled himself in a corner of the railway carriage, 
 and began with great animation to compare the various 
 notes on the astounding Kent-Avon engagement that 
 was electrifying society that morning. " The halfpenny 
 rags will be the spiciest," he murmured. 
 
 But Blanche bit her under lip once again. The 
 
 H
 
 114 THE EDDY BATONS' WEEK-END 
 
 express train left the whirling landscape miles behind, 
 but even so she recognized the long bare ridge with 
 Loftus Beacon on the edge, half wrapped in a damp 
 grey mist. She had been there only yesterday, and the 
 afternoon had been one of the happiest in her life. A 
 sort of fascination kept her eyes fixed on the rough out- 
 line of the Beacon till the railway embankment finally 
 shut it out from sight. Then she opened Mortimer's 
 book with one quick-drawn sigh. 
 
 " What does ' Stultum est timere quod vitare non 
 potes * mean ? " she asked, clinging to the generally 
 accepted idea that all men know Latin because all men 
 have been taught Latin. 
 
 " It means Fate," answered Miles. " I can't translate 
 it, but that's what it means right enough." 
 
 It was the motto on the title-page of Mortimer's 
 book.
 
 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 WE need not grieve ; we have loved too well ; 
 
 There is nothing we care to undo ; 
 And never a word to break love's spell 
 
 Was spoken betwixt us two. 
 
 But perhaps, perhaps, there is loss with the gain, 
 
 When lives so closely touch ; 
 And 'tis hardly meant in this world of pain, 
 
 That hearts should love overmuch. 
 
 AUBEROK HERBERT.
 
 I 
 
 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 Saffery Lodge. 
 
 golden sunshine of a warm summer's 
 afternoon lay heavily on the New Forest. 
 It was past midsummer, and a soft shade 
 of mistiest purple, which was the bloom of 
 the heather, had already begun to exquisitely tinge 
 the open brakes and commons. Golden and purple 
 and blue, the prismatic atmosphere made a dream of 
 every spot in the landscape. To imagine other parts 
 of the earth could be as fair was too hard a task ; to 
 remember heaven must be fairer was beyond the con- 
 ception of a mundane mind. The long road across the 
 common gleamed like a silver streak ; some rough forest 
 ponies and some lean-looking kine were grazing among 
 the furze-bushes. An overheated, hatless youth on a 
 bicycle, grey with dust and desperate with determina- 
 tion to achieve a record run, skimmed along the high- 
 road, just as the Heythrops' pony-cart climbed up the 
 hill from the station and came within sight of the open 
 prospect. 
 
 "You can catch a sight of the Beacon from here, 
 sir," the coachman remarked, pointing with his whip,
 
 120 THE HEYTHKOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 as they reached the brow of the common, and could see 
 all the misty golden land that stretched away to the 
 west. 
 
 " I've been there," answered Mortimer Keppel ; " but 
 the Castle, I suppose, lies nearer the sea ? " 
 
 " Castle Loftus lies directly behind them plantations ; 
 but it's more'n fourteen mile as the crow flies." 
 
 Anything would have interested Keppel that after- 
 noon, and the coachman, for reasons of his own, was in 
 almost as happy a state of mind, though neither man 
 was really following the conversation. Keppel was 
 thinking of Blanche, and congratulating himself on 
 having stolen a march on time by taking the early 
 train. The express, by which the other guests were 
 to arrive, would not be down for an hour or more, and 
 thus he was secure from interruption for a sweet, if 
 fleeting, space of time. To gain possession of Blanche, 
 and get rid of every one else, was indeed the most con- 
 sistent object of his life. 
 
 The thoughts of the coachman were in a different 
 vein, though equally sweetened by self-congratulation. 
 " I knewed it all along ; I felt it in my bones," he 
 repeated in an undertone. " I knewed the 'orse was a 
 good 'orse." Then he made a joyful little calculation, 
 and cracked his whip with a flourish of sudden triumph 
 at the way the figures worked out. " But whatever 
 would mother have a-said if it had a-bin a wrong un ! " 
 This was a sobering thought, for the amount at stake 
 had been almost more than he could afford. His eye 
 twinkled in anticipation, and he only longed for the 
 supreme moment when he should draw up in the centre
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 121 
 
 of the stable-yard and shout to his audience, " Well, 
 boys, and who's a-won the Chesterfield Cup ? " He had 
 heard the news at the station ; one of the porters had 
 let him have a look at a paper. "Any stop press 
 news?" he had asked, and there it was before his 
 dazzled eyes that the horse he had so lavishly backed 
 for shillings and pence (" mother " held the purse-strings, 
 and pounds were beyond the wildest flutter) had won 
 the Chesterfield Cup. The groom and the stable-boy 
 had both backed the raging favourite who was entered 
 for the race, and the favourite was not even placed ! 
 In any case, with the odds so short, they could never 
 have brought off a coup, so the glory was all his own. 
 To have the courage of his convictions justified is a rare 
 satisfaction to any man ; to have put up so little and to 
 have made so much turned him quite dizzy, and made 
 him in a different degree almost as blindly happy as 
 Keppel. 
 
 Blanche Heythrop was sitting on a low wicker chair, 
 on a lawn covered with pink roses, dreaming in idle 
 happiness of life that was life indeed. A luminous light 
 made her eyes shine, otherwise she looked calm and 
 collected and cool, which was perhaps more than she 
 felt, else her faculties would not have been so singularly 
 on the alert. No most distant sound could escape her 
 ears that afternoon, or anything distract her mind; it 
 was useless to read she could read any day and she 
 threw away her book. Like the lotus-eaters, she wished 
 it might be always afternoon ; to sit there and wait for 
 Keppel was in itself happiness enough. Some time 
 since she had heard the rattle of the pony-cart as it
 
 122 THE HEYTHROPS WEEK-END 
 
 came out from the yard, and some time afterwards the 
 whistle of a far-away train. The time would not now 
 be long, and she read Keppel's wire once more, " Coming 
 by an earlier train can you meet the 4.50 ? " It was 
 like a verse of poetry, and she kissed the signature. It 
 was Mortimer's, whether he had written it or not. 
 
 Blanche might have been in white, she might have 
 been in pink, for all that Keppel knew. He was so 
 glad to see her, he could take in no details, and was, 
 besides, almost dazzled by the amazing wealth of roses. 
 She came towards him at once, crossing the grass with 
 all the peculiar grace of movement that was her own ; 
 yet when they met, and their spirits rushed together, 
 as his eager eyes caught hers, for the moment they 
 spoke only of railway lines, dust, and the prevailing heat. 
 
 "If you were to speak of inferno in that voice you 
 would make an acceptable home of the place," Keppel 
 said at last. He had always been strangely susceptible 
 to the charm of Blanche's voice. 
 
 "I can't think what made you come by the slow 
 train," she responded. 
 
 " I could tell you, if you really want to know ! I 
 should always travel by a slow train if I was sure of 
 finding you alone at the end of the journey." 
 
 " How did you know I should be alone ? It's only a 
 chance Victoria didn't come down in the morning to 
 avoid the heat." 
 
 " I took the chance. Luck favours the brave, you 
 know. It's only a faint heart that submits to being 
 overruled by circumstances ; and you don't mind, do 
 you, Blanche ? "
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 123 
 
 " I don't mind a bit," she answered, as they looked 
 at each other, and laughed from pure light-hearted- 
 ness. 
 
 " You might say a little more, my darling." 
 
 " I never say much to my best friend ; he should 
 know enough to take the rest for granted." 
 
 " You should be civil to me all the same. I suppose 
 you know I'm your guest." 
 
 She began to pour out tea then, with the complete 
 absence of self-consciousness that was one of her rarest 
 charms, and Keppel drew up a wicker chair and seated 
 himself on the edge of the seat, almost afraid to more 
 openly grasp the goods the gods were so lavishly pro- 
 viding. 
 
 " What have you been reading poetry ? " he asked, 
 as he took up the book she had thrown aside. 
 
 " I've been reading nothing but your wire ever since 
 it came. Oh, my dear, my dear, you can't think how 
 pleased I am to see you again ! " 
 
 "What's that about absence making a heart grow 
 fonder ? Do you know, Blanche, it's perfectly true ! 
 I adored you that last morning at Castle Loftus, when 
 you stood in the hall buttoning your glove, but I've 
 adored you even more since. It was an awful wrench 
 leaving? you like that, I was so proud you were so sorry, 
 and so put about it was I who was making you sad 
 I only wanted to take you in my arms and kiss every 
 inch of your face." 
 
 Blanche turned white, and looked over her shoulder 
 with a scared glance. 
 
 "Don't, dear," she murmured; and she put down
 
 124 THE HEYTHEOFS WEEK-END 
 
 the cream jug with a sudden clatter in case he should 
 notice how her hand was trembling. 
 
 " One of these fine days, Blanche, I intend to make 
 you kiss me again. It's the only satisfactory way of 
 saying good-bye," he continued calmly, with the 
 dictatorial air of a man who means to get his own 
 way. 
 
 " Never ! " said Blanche. " There's been enough of 
 that already." 
 
 "Little enough, my dear. What makes you so 
 absurd ? You'd kiss me now if I were dying, I suppose. 
 No one could refuse a dying man." 
 
 " But you're not dying why should you be ? " she 
 asked a little anxiously, and her eyes grew startled 
 again. 
 
 "I wish you'd always look like that, Blanche. 
 Would you really mind so much ? " 
 
 But Blanche made no response. " What papers 
 have you brought down ? " she asked, as she proceeded 
 to describe the other guests who were coming for the 
 week-end. 
 
 A great deal has been said about the artistic 
 temperament, so much so that the phrase has become 
 a trifle cant. The people who have it certainly live an 
 absolutely different life to those who have it not, and 
 Blanche, who lived intensely, was nearly always aware 
 of the light that never was on land or sea. She was 
 very aware of it that night as she and Mortimer crossed 
 the rosy common and went over the edge of the moor, 
 where they sat for awhile on a bank of heather, and 
 deplored the fate that had kept them separate for so
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 125 
 
 long. Mortimer's life always opened up new vistas to 
 Blanche, and under the influence of the old intimacy 
 her serenity returned. 
 
 " Did you go to the Adrian wedding ? " she asked. 
 
 " I never go to weddings, since I can't go to yours 
 and mine ! They make me think too much of all I have 
 missed. It annoys me more than I can say to have 
 other people, who can't care for each other as we do, 
 casually vowing all those vows with ne'er the ghost of an 
 obstacle to check them. I can't bear it, Blanche. I tell 
 you the last wedding I went to it all came over me 
 with such a mighty rush that I bowed me down and 
 prayed, like the broken Australian poet, for an answer 
 that might soothe my bitterness." 
 
 "I hate them too, for the same reason," she 
 agreed. 
 
 " It's enough to make a man swear, I tell you it is, to 
 see some paltry puppy and simpering doll coming down 
 the aisle together, and every one making such a flutter 
 and fuss. Just as though we wouldn't all marry if we 
 could ! What did you look like when you were married, 
 Blanche ? " 
 
 "I don't know what I looked like, and I refuse to 
 tell you what I felt," she answered, and Keppel pleaded 
 in vain. "But I know exactly how you would look," 
 she continued, "and I know exactly how you would 
 stand waiting by the altar rails." 
 
 "White flowers, and organs, and the voice that 
 
 breathed All right, Blanche, don't make me vain. 
 
 And you would come up the aisle ; I know the order of 
 the thing quite as well as you. Good God, my darling,
 
 126 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 it would be like no marriage there has ever been 
 before." 
 
 The thought for the moment blinded them with 
 excess of light. 
 
 " Till death do us part," Blanche quoted. " So many 
 hundreds of other things are bound to separate every 
 other sort of compact." 
 
 "It's the only thing that can really separate us. 
 I would die any moment of my life if you could be 
 mine for a day. You care, don't you ? Do say it once 
 again. 
 
 Blanche slipped her hand into his. " Care ! " she 
 echoed. " Marriage vows are really made for people 
 who don't care. Fancy having to promise to love you ! 
 I care a great deal more than you, dearest, but don't 
 make me say so any more." 
 
 " Come," she added, "we must be going back." 
 
 A railway compartment on a baking afternoon is 
 a discipline to the most good-natured man ; it was more 
 than Miles's irascible temper could bear, and when he 
 came into Blanche's room that evening her air of cool 
 composure acted as fuel to fire on his already sorely 
 tried nerves. Things had been going from bad to worse 
 with him all day, and his ill humour was for the moment 
 intense. He came to Blanche instinctively because she 
 was intelligent and sensitive, if she had been otherwise 
 she might not have minded his wrath or appreciated 
 his bitter jests, and to a man in his frame of mind to 
 make some one else uncomfortable and sore was 
 absolutely essential. No one else would have stood it,
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 127 
 
 no sister, or parent, or child, but a wife is different ; 
 of her own accord, before many witnesses, she makes 
 a series of pointed promises, and though the worst 
 husband seldom binds her down to the letter, the best is 
 apt to remember a picturesque clause or two. That the 
 bond is mutual is not the sort of detail a creature as 
 infuriated as Miles can be expected to take into account ; 
 though back of all his fury, in a dumb sort of way that 
 he had never expressed in words, it was to Blanche that 
 he looked for the balm and oil that would ultimately 
 soothe his wounds. She would let him get it all off 
 his chest, but would never turn and rend him when her 
 chance came ; a cowardly woman certainly would, but 
 Blanche never availed herself of mean advantages, 
 and always met an apology half way. She disliked 
 uncontrolled wrath, but she understood Miles. "It's 
 impossible to quarrel with you, Blanche, but it's the 
 rarest sport all the same," he had once remarked, for 
 Blanche was no Patient Griselde. Miles would have 
 disliked a wife whose colour never rose ; he would have 
 thought it a sign of defective intelligence. But Blanche 
 was not afraid of him, he knew that full well. He 
 always wished she were, though he would not have 
 admired her in the same way if she had been. 
 
 " Why are you dressed so early ? I've been all over 
 the place and couldn't find you anywhere. I'm in a 
 devil of a temper, I must warn you, and the wonder is 
 I'm not fifty times worse." 
 
 Then he began his list of grievances, hurling each 
 item at Blanche, as though it were she who was 
 responsible for them all. The little financial coup he
 
 128 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 had counted upon with such certainty had played him 
 false at the last minute, and left him poorer by five 
 hundred pounds; his father, whom he had been to 
 visit, had once more taken a new lease of life, and he 
 had lost heavily on the Chesterfield Cup; added to 
 which he was hot and dusty, having been nearly 
 suffocated by the heat. Blanche's very coolness was 
 an aggravation to a man who was so hot, and emptying 
 out all her eau-de-Cologne to assuage the sweat of his 
 brow, he became more than ever perturbed when, instead 
 of cooling him, the stuff began to burn. 
 
 "Here," he cried, "give me some water. That 
 beastly stuff's chockful of spirit. What do you keep it 
 for ? You might have told me in time." 
 
 Blanche poured out some water and gave him a 
 sponge; she let him say what he would, no answer 
 could have been soft enough just then to turn away 
 his wrath. 
 
 His language was at first what is proscribed by 
 Parliament but tacitly accepted by the majority of 
 wives. His broker was a confounded fool, people who 
 professed to give racing tips were little better, ex- 
 travagant households could not be run for nothing 
 this was a hit at Blanche ; he did his best to economize, 
 but where was the good when expenses were daily 
 increasing, and everything getting dearer year by year ? 
 Specialists and family doctors should all have their 
 heads broke, they deliberately led people astray so that 
 they might have the kudos of affecting a sensational 
 cure. 
 
 " They're humbugs, the whole lot of them, and I've
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 129 
 
 more than half a mind to write to Arnold-Pryce and 
 tell him so. And the heat," he continued " the train 
 was like the infernal regions ! I hope you have 
 everything iced for dinner, I have been hoping so all 
 the way down. We had some uncommon good soup in 
 cups at the Carlton last night ; it's the proper way of 
 taking cold soup, though I never see it done in this 
 house. If it had not been for some thundering good 
 cigarettes Eoyle gave me, I don't know where I should 
 have been. Would you believe it, that chunk-headed 
 fool lost my cigarette-case at the last moment, or said 
 he had. I wish now I had dismissed him on the spot, 
 it's what most men would have done. I'll be bound, 
 too, he was smoking them himself all the way down. 
 He's a thief, amongst other things, and I know he's a 
 liar. And then to lose five hundred pounds ! just the 
 handy sort of sum I was wanting. Wait till I write to 
 my brokers, I shall write them a snorter, and no mistake. 
 Damned parsimony the whole thing, trying to save 
 themselves a sixpenny wire. If I'd only had the 
 message in time, I'd have pulled off the whole thing 
 without putting my hand in my pocket, and I shall 
 always consider they owe me five hundred pounds." 
 He paused for a moment to gather breath. "Who is 
 stopping in the house, and who's coming to dinner ? 
 I tell you flat I can't be civil to one or the other." 
 
 All the retorts Blanche might have made she 
 refrained from making. It is hard to annoy the person 
 who is happy. You may break, you may shatter the 
 vase, if you will, but the scent of the roses will hang 
 round it still ! The stolen hour with Mortimer in the
 
 130 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 rose garden had left an exultant peace nothing could 
 just yet destroy. She had already ordered a cold 
 dinner, with soup in cups, just as Miles had described, 
 and the people coming to dinner had been asked at his 
 special request ; to tell him this, however, would have 
 been to take the wind too completely out of his sails, 
 and she abstained. She had always mistrusted his 
 brokers, and had often told him so, but the present 
 was not the time to remind him of that fact. But she 
 had to bite her lip to prevent herself making the 
 obvious remark that he would be late for dinner, for 
 he would be very late, and it worried her more than 
 a little. She only thought of Mortimer's imperial 
 breeding and absolute self-control ; he must have fought 
 fights like other men, but she was certain he had never 
 been engaged in a wrangle in his life. She had no 
 sympathy with men who lost money on the turf, and 
 did not approve of betting. Mortimer knew more about 
 racing than any one else, and he never made a bet ; 
 yet she agreed with Miles that no one could lose five 
 hundred pounds with equanimity, and suggested that 
 the glorious uncertainty of racing might shortly put 
 his balance level, which suggestion appealed to Miles 
 more than anything else. A wounded man is best 
 healed by his own medicaments, and his brow began 
 to clear. 
 
 "There's something in that. I stand to win a 
 substantial sum if Childe Harold runs true at Brighton. 
 I'll give you a new pair of earrings if he does." 
 
 Blanche had been promised jewellery on the same 
 terms before without the capacity of her jewel-case
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 131 
 
 being in any way overtaxed, but she thanked him all 
 the same. "When Miles began to offer jewels, it was 
 tantamount to sounding the retreat, and she knew his 
 wrath was expended. She broke the news casually then 
 that Colonel and Mrs. Arley-Smythe were coming to 
 dinner. The colonel wished for advice about African 
 mines, and she delicately insinuated that this was a 
 subject on which, very justly, Miles was every one's 
 authority. 
 
 " They are sure to be late for dinner, they have 
 such a long way to drive," she added. 
 
 Knowing how late he already was, this was almost 
 more than he deserved ; but as he had once said himself, 
 " Some men show amazing sense in the women they 
 marry ! " He was cooler now and pacified, Blanche 
 Heythrop could be a most persuasive woman when she 
 chose, and among his sweeter qualities was the virtue 
 of never sulking, and of frankly avowing his temper to 
 be vile. Woman is the lesser man only because she so 
 seldom rises above the prerogatives of her womanhood. 
 
 Muttering apologies, Miles went off at length, leaving 
 Blanche to make all the haste she had not dared make 
 while he commanded her attention. Fastening diamonds 
 round her neck, and lace round her shoulders, she 
 glanced in the mirror with a sudden flush at her own 
 radiant reflection, and seizing a handkerchief, sped 
 downstairs to join her guests, and explain to Major 
 Koyle she must give Colonel Arley-Smythe precedence 
 over him, as he was a local magnate, and had never 
 dined at the house before. 
 
 Major Cyprian Koyle was a natty little man, with
 
 132 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 blue eyes and closely curling hair, and half the letters 
 of the alphabet after his name. He received Mrs. Hey- 
 throp's explanations with a superb bow his manners 
 and his pluck had originally been his only asset. 
 
 " Of course I should love to take you in to dinner, 
 it would have made me so proud," he answered with a 
 sigh. "But I don't really mind how I go in, or where 
 I sit ; I'll go in on my head if you like. As to the table 
 of precedence, I've forgotten the order of the thing. 
 Soldier, sailor, tinker, tailor, isn't that how it goes?" 
 he rattled on. 
 
 " It's not how it goes in Whittaker ! " Blanche 
 answered. " But they ought really to draw up a new 
 table of precedence nowadays, with rich men at the 
 top." 
 
 " They rank before V.C.'s, don't they ? " replied the 
 major, whose absorbed interest in a subject was only to 
 be equalled by his intense gravity. 
 
 " You know Victoria ? " continued Blanche. 
 
 " I have that pleasure," the major answered with 
 another bow, "but I don't think she knows me." 
 
 " I thought you were Mr. Keppel. There is a man 
 called Keppel I know," Victoria remarked. " I always 
 mixed him up with you when you were both stopping 
 with us last autumn, and we came up with all his 
 luggage from the station this evening, so he must be in 
 the house." 
 
 "He is," answered Blanche, quietly. It was the 
 paramount fact in the world just then. 
 
 Major Eoyle, being a small man, was keenly conscious 
 of the advantage Keppel had over him in height.
 
 FBIDAY NIGHT 133 
 
 " I doubt if Keppel would relish your mistake," he 
 answered. He himself was by no means ill-pleased. 
 
 " I don't know why he should mind," Blanche 
 observed thoughtfully; and the major turned to her 
 with ingenuous delight. Mortimer Keppel was a cri- 
 terion with his fellows, and could have set any fashions 
 he cared to adopt. 
 
 " We're the same age, you know, exactly the same ; 
 yet my hair is getting grey, and Keppel hasn't a grey 
 hair in his head, has he, now ? " 
 
 " It's the West Coast ; it's the most deadly place 
 you can go to. But every one respects grey hairs, and 
 if you're really going to give up the army and go into 
 the service out there, it will get you made governor all 
 the sooner, see if it don't ! I have never noticed any- 
 thing particular about Mortimer's hair," she continued ; 
 it pleased her oddly to discuss Mortimer's appearance, 
 " except that it wants to curl. Yours does that too, a 
 great deal more than his." 
 
 Interested at all times in his own good looks, the 
 major rose to his feet with alacrity, so that he might 
 the better inspect his well-groomed head. 
 
 " A tiresome sort of arrangement, putting so many 
 flower-vases right in front of the mirror. Do you mind 
 if I move them, Mrs. Heythrop ? " Still dodging to and 
 fro before the mirror, he turned to Victoria. " Would 
 you say my hair was curlier than Keppel's ? " he 
 demanded, when the entrance of the Arley-Smythes 
 abruptly closed the subject. 
 
 Mrs. Arley-Smythe was a person of large and 
 generous build, bedecked with all the Arley jewels.
 
 134 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 She was also splendidly clad, and came into the 
 room talking, as she delighted in nothing more 
 than making a sensation, no matter how small the 
 occasion. 
 
 " You mustn't blame me if we are late>; it's all the 
 colonel's fault. He will insist on one of the Tommies 
 driving us instead of his own coachman, and the result 
 is the good man thinks we are a gun-carriage, and 
 makes his pace accordingly." 
 
 She looked round the room rather anxiously while 
 she spoke, to see if there were any one present to whose 
 rank she would have to yield place ; then she smiled 
 complacently, and moved a little forward, so that the 
 half-obliterated colonel might have a chance of coming 
 into the room. 
 
 " Everything seems to me couleur-de-rose. What 
 is it ? " asked Mortimer, as he took his place at the 
 dinner-table by Blanche's side. 
 
 " Perhaps it's the roses," she suggested. The table 
 was covered with roses, and all the candles were shaded 
 with pink. 
 
 " Perhaps it's because I'm sitting next you, Mrs. 
 Heythrop ! Did you arrange I was to sit here on 
 purpose, Blanche?" 
 
 " How dreadfully late you were ! I thought you and 
 Miles would never come down," she responded, while 
 Colonel Arley-Smythe studied the menu. " Do you like 
 the roses ? I got them from the upper garden where 
 we were sitting this evening." 
 
 Mortimer Keppel looked at her with a humorous 
 light in his rather sad eyes.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 135 
 
 " I thought we were sitting in the Garden of Para- 
 dise this evening." 
 
 Cooled and mollified, Miles Heythrop had now 
 reached the stage when his martyrdom could be enjoyed. 
 He had noticed two points in his own soup superior to 
 the soup at the Carlton, and he had found in Mrs. Arley- 
 Smythe a ready sympathizer in all his woes. 
 
 " And, would you believe it, my fool of a man lost 
 my cigarette-case ! I as near as anything dismissed 
 him on the spot." 
 
 " You should be careful all the same, how you 
 dismiss servants nowadays ; they know so much, and 
 look how they talk ! I don't know how it may be with 
 valets, but you can't dismiss your maid without risking 
 your reputation. These sort of people always think the 
 worst." 
 
 "I'm not afraid of my past myself," observed 
 Miles. 
 
 " Having none ! " suggested Major Eoyle. 
 
 But Mrs. Arley-Smythe talked on. "I often envy 
 the colonel his military discipline ; a whole garrison of 
 Tommies are more easily managed than half a dozen 
 domestic servants." 
 
 " My last man was a scoundrel," agreed Miles ; " he 
 always packed my sponge on top of my shirts, and 
 wore my silk socks on Sunday when he went courting, 
 and when I found him out he put a Prayer-book into 
 my suit-case instead of my Racing Kecord by way of 
 revenge, and swore they were both bound in leather, 
 and he had done it by mistake. I threatened to throw 
 my boots at his head. I wish I had now ; he needed a
 
 136 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 dressing of some sort, he was always so cock-a- 
 hoop." 
 
 Mrs. Arley-Smythe liked Miles ; she never knew what 
 he was going to say next, and the chance of its being 
 something unspeakable added zest to her enjoyment. 
 Major Eoyle was also enjoying himself, enjoyment being 
 his sole scheme of life Victoria was pretty enough to 
 please the most fastidious, and well enough informed to 
 leave a mere man wondering where a young woman's 
 education was supposed to end. Added to which was 
 the sport he always experienced in Miles's company of 
 murmuring pointed asides to his host, the double mean- 
 ing of which Miles at least could always be relied on 
 to understand. Colonel Arley-Smythe was enjoying 
 himself too a little less wooden than his wont, he was 
 wondering why all hostesses were not so easy to get 
 on with as Mrs. Heythrop. But Mortimer Keppel was 
 the happiest man there, the knowledge of which weighed 
 upon Blanche as her chiefest joy and most heavy 
 despair. 
 
 " How is Lord Heythrop ? " some one asked. 
 
 "Oh, don't! Please don't ask Miles about his 
 father, unless you want him to be profane ! " cried 
 Blanche. 
 
 But Miles was not to be baulked. " My father, did 
 you say ? He's all right. He's renewing his youth 
 like the eagle, or some other unpleasant bird. He's 
 training for a centenarian in hopes they will give him 
 the King's Bounty, or something of the sort." 
 
 "Is that what the King's Bounty is given you 
 for?" asked Major Eoyle, ingenuously. "I should
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 137 
 
 have thought a centenarian was scarcely eligible 
 not that I know much about such things ! " He turned 
 to Victoria, who, however, refused to enlighten him. 
 
 " You can look it up in Whittaker," she remarked 
 dryly. 
 
 " There's a man called Arnold-Pryce, who has com- 
 pletely got the upper hand of my poor father. He's a 
 specialist," continued Miles. 
 
 " I thought he was a resurrectionist ! " Major Eoyle 
 observed. 
 
 "He's a confounded humbug in any case, and I 
 consider both he and the old man are defrauding the 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer. The death-duty people 
 were counting their chickens gaily last autumn so were 
 other people ! when Lord Heythrop rose like the phoenix 
 and upset form all round. The National Debt won't be 
 paid off this year nor will sundry others ! " he added 
 feelingly. 
 
 The subject reminded Mrs. Arley-Smythe of her own 
 affairs, and desiring to be informed, she broke into a 
 string of questions that Keppel had been quite unable 
 to answer. 
 
 " You might help me, major. You come from Africa, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " Lagos is a little way off Kimberley. I was on the 
 Coast myself," the major replied, with imperturbable 
 gravity. 
 
 "What is the West Coast? And what do you go 
 there to do ? " Victoria asked. 
 
 " To take up the White Man's Burden, in the first 
 instance ; and become a district commissioner, if you've
 
 138 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 time before you die. It's an excellent dumping-ground 
 for failures and ne'er-do-weels, for they never come 
 back," added the major, making light of the honours he 
 had gained, and was gaining. 
 
 " It seems an excellent place for laurels ! " said 
 Blanche. 
 
 In cabinet photographs and on field days the major 
 was a profusely decorated individual. 
 
 " I don't know about laurels," protested the major, 
 who loved adroit flattery as much as any man, "but I 
 wish they'd hurry up and give me my K. They're 
 bound to give me a better billet then." 
 
 "I should have thought the D.S.O. would have done 
 that," said Keppel. "I always admire the way you 
 run your shows out there ; it's the proper way of dealing 
 with the black man, I'm sure of that." 
 
 "It's the only way, but these good folks at home 
 are so sickly sentimental! I should like to send out 
 a cabinet minister or two, unarmed, of course, for a 
 little gentle palaver with his brother-cannibal teach 
 him a thing or two, even if he became mince-meat. 
 In the old days we were under the Foreign Office, we're 
 changed to the Colonial now," he explained, as he and 
 Keppel exchanged opinions on the different modes of 
 administration. 
 
 " Is the D.S.O. a medal or an order ? " asked Victoria, 
 who had been for some time out of the conversation. 
 
 "It's the Order of the Garter. Didn't you know 
 that?" answered the major, fibbing freely. "That's 
 why I never mal y pense, even when Miles's conversation 
 gets a bit too thick."
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 139 
 
 " I like that," objected Miles. " They're a wild lot 
 out there, and learn a deal of harm," he remarked 
 confidentially to Mrs. Arley-Smythe. 
 
 "Did you ever meet a Coaster called Carteret?" 
 Borne one asked. 
 
 "Cock-eye Carteret, do you mean? I know him," 
 exclaimed the major, as he went into chuckles of some- 
 what unholy glee. "You know Cock-eye, Miles? The 
 fellow who sang the topical song the night we all dined 
 together." 
 
 " Cock-eye " Carteret was an agreeable reminis- 
 cence, and the major could scarcely control his excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " He invented a, song, you know, bringing us all in, 
 even the chief. He's a devilish smart chap, and took 
 us all off to a t. 
 
 " For language is horrid 
 In climes that are torrid 
 
 that is the chorus," he cried, breaking into a verse or 
 two. "Cock-eye's language needs to be altered a bit 
 when you're repeating his songs to a lady. Don't be 
 nervous, Mrs. Heythrop, I'm a nailer at bowdlerizing." 
 
 " Get on," urged Miles ; " Blanche has heard a thing 
 or two." 
 
 " They call me Soap-and-water out there." 
 
 " Odd, now, I could have sworn it was Brandy-and- 
 soda ! " exclaimed Miles. 
 
 "And the first verse is all about me and my bath," 
 continued the major, unheeding the interruption. " I 
 was surprised in my bath, you know, beginning of last 
 campaign. It was in all the despatches. One of those
 
 140 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 green canvas baths stretched on a campstool. Excuse 
 the details, but everything has to be portable." 
 
 The verse, he explained, was lyrical in composition 
 
 " Palmiest oil, 
 Dirtiest toil, 
 Nothing can soil 
 Cyprian Eoyle." 
 
 Then he drew himself up with a gasp. " The rest's 
 impossible, I'm afraid, every word of it. Sorry, but 
 you wouldn't like me to go on. Did you know my name 
 was Cyprian ? " he added. 
 
 "I always thought C stood for Charles; so many 
 men are called Charles," Victoria answered. 
 
 Blanche was meanwhile explaining to the colonel, 
 who liked solid conversation, the different methods of 
 working alluvial gold and gold in the quartz ; and 
 Keppel, who was also listening, smiled to himself at 
 the queer bits of knowledge she managed to acquire. 
 
 " How do you know everything, Blanche ? " he asked 
 in an undertone. "You don't need to go yet!" he 
 exclaimed, as she picked up her fan and looked across 
 at Mrs. Arley-Smythe, while he stooped to pick up the 
 handkerchief she had dropped. 
 
 "I must," she answered briefly, but without look- 
 ing in his direction. She always found it easier to deal 
 with Mortimer when she could avoid meeting his eye. 
 
 The mass of pink roses in the drawing-room at once 
 moved Mrs. Arley-Smythe to a glowing description of 
 her own flowers, and how exquisitely they were always 
 arranged by the colonel's soldier servant. 
 
 "His taste is quite wonderful, and as to his ideas
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 141 
 
 I shall never forget the table on Mafeking Night, it was 
 all red, white, and blue, with draped flags and two of 
 the Queen's chocolate-boxes. He really is a treasure, 
 and his devotion to me is quite pathetic." She paused 
 to take breath, and then went on again. " You must 
 come and see us, and bring your husband, Mrs. Hey- 
 throp, he would like to see our gees. We have a 
 charming captain, and the adjutant's a dear, but I 
 believe my favourite is the youngest sub. ; he's the 
 prettiest babe in the world, with the wickedest eyes. 
 I'm more than half in love with him, and the colonel 
 is more than half jealous. Husbands are ridiculously 
 jealous, are they not ? " 
 
 " It's ridiculous when they're jealous without a cause, 
 and when there is a cause, they are often not jealous at 
 all," agreed Blanche. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, they're ridiculous creatures altogether, 
 though I dare say an army man has more reason to be 
 jealous of his wife than another ; and the wives of their 
 husbands, for the matter of that ! What should you 
 do, Mrs. Heythrop, if your husband were madly in love 
 with another woman ? " 
 
 Mrs. Arley-Smythe did what she could to convey the 
 impression that this was no hypothetical case; she 
 loved to invest herself with mystery, and cast down her 
 eyes to make the pose more natural. 
 
 " I should give him every opportunity of seeing the 
 other woman, and not attempt to thwart him in any 
 way, or ask a single question." 
 
 "Did Angela Sunsutton give you all these photo- 
 graphs?" Victoria asked abruptly; she had been
 
 142 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 examining the room, and on a table against the wall 
 had suddenly recognized the duchess smiling at her 
 from half a dozen large silver frames. 
 
 Blanche laughed at the question coming so apropos 
 of her own remark. 
 
 " Have you been hearing any gay stories of Miles ? 
 Those are all his photos." 
 
 People often speculated on the Heythrops as husband 
 and wife, but Blanche's candour never helped them to 
 a better understanding. 
 
 " There's nothing about the colonel's life I don't 
 know," observed Mrs. Arley-Smythe, with a superior 
 little laugh. 
 
 Blanche smiled. She would not have taken upon 
 herself to make a similar statement, though Miles's extra- 
 ordinary candour and dependence on her judgment had 
 touched her before now ; he knew so little about her, and 
 she could read him like a book. She had a somewhat 
 extended knowledge of some, at least, of his follies, and 
 trusted him, according to his limitations, as much as he 
 trusted her; but Miles trusted his wife without any 
 qualifications whatsoever. Thinking of the boyish nature 
 of his reliance and trust, Blanche grew a little thought- 
 ful. Keppel had been sometimes chaffed about playing 
 cricket with a big C, because of his punctilious honour, 
 a disposition she particularly admired, and beginning 
 with some compunction to measure herself with him, 
 she hastily resolved to order all Miles liked best for 
 dinner next day, which is one form matrimonial repara- 
 tion can always take. 
 
 The advantage of having Mrs. Arley-Smythe to dinner
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 143 
 
 on a warm night was the exemption of every one else 
 from the smallest effort at conversation, there was, 
 indeed, neither chance nor opportunity. With the 
 entrance of the men she became a veritable daughter of 
 Mars. Buckling on a sword, she took fearless command 
 of a most difficult campaign. Marching from end to end 
 of South Africa, she exposed every deficiency, and showed 
 how everything should have been done ; and though many 
 of her statements were grossly wrong, and much of her 
 information false, no one took her to task, nor had the 
 British Army a leg to stand upon by the time her carriage 
 was announced. 
 
 " A pleasant thing, a garrison lady ! " Miles remarked, 
 as he came back from seeing his friends away. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, I'm a bachelor! " exclaimed Keppel. 
 " Excuse me, Mrs. Heythrop, it would, of course, be a 
 different matter if one had married you." 
 
 " My wife would never hold forth at that rate I 
 know her too well," added the major, pensively. 
 
 "What a lot she knew about the war!" said 
 Victoria. 
 
 " Ah ! but didn't you hear, her sister-in-law's cousin 
 had meant to go to the front ? " answered Major Eoyle, 
 gently. 
 
 Blanche took no part in the discussion; she was 
 collecting papers on a table by the window, and Keppel 
 went to help her. 
 
 She looked up at him with a little sigh. " I some- 
 times think, dear, it would be fairer if I told Miles 
 everything." 
 
 " What would you tell him ? " asked Keppel, eagerly ;
 
 144 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 he was always keenly anxious to gauge Blanche's 
 affection. 
 
 "What could I tell him? That's the worst of it. 
 He thinks such a lot of you, and loves having you here. 
 If I were to say you must stop coming to the house, he 
 would lose all patience, I know, and declare I was 
 hysterical, and must have a course of Burgundy ; 
 and as to our friendship why, he knows we are 
 friends." 
 
 " Ever the best of friends, dear heart ; it would take 
 something stronger than Burgundy to quench that." 
 
 They were standing by a long window that opened 
 to the ground. It was still and quiet in the garden, soft 
 grey shadows hid the rose bushes, and the trees stood 
 out densely against the pale sky. Blanche had gathered 
 the papers and her long silk dress under her arm, and 
 stepped out of the window to pick one solitary rose that 
 was growing against the side of the house. 
 
 " Do you want the Globe or the Pall Mall? " Mortimer 
 asked, as he tried to read the names of the papers in 
 the half light. " How fast the day passes when I am with 
 you ! If we had married, Blanche, we should have lost 
 count of time altogether." 
 
 " I wish it went slower a week-end is only a flash," 
 she admitted. 
 
 "You are all I want in this world, and they can give 
 me nothing better in the next." 
 
 " You're trying your eyes, dear, I don't want Sporting 
 Life," she responded; the big pink rose fell to pieces 
 as she spoke, and the petals drifted down all over her 
 dress.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 145 
 
 " Aren't you coming to the billiard-room, Blanche ? 
 We're going to play snooker," Miles called out to her 
 from inside the room. 
 
 " Not to-night, Victoria is tired. We're going to bed," 
 she answered, as she came in from the garden. 
 
 People who abjure sentiment and never weep, may 
 succeed in concealing their feelings, but never in cheat- 
 ing their woe. Blanche turned'away and left Mortimer 
 in the garden with a sudden pang that was too bitter a 
 price to pay, even for love, and the only person who 
 could have comforted her was the very one she daren't 
 approach. Her will was strong, likewise her powers of 
 concentration, but the papers she had brought up to her 
 room she read with difficulty that night ; the news was 
 bald and unconvincing, and certain remarks of Keppel's 
 would keep coming between her and the print. She 
 was conscious all the time of a pain she dreaded, and 
 shrank each time she remembered poignant moments 
 that had gone before. She was stronger now, but the 
 old depth was always there, and her delicate human 
 flesh was weak : so much so, that for one moment she 
 sobbed aloud, as she shook out the folds of her dress 
 and a handful of pink rose leaves fluttered to the ground. 
 She gathered the rose leaves gently in her hand just 
 as Miles came to her door, his practical tones speedily 
 acting as a restorative. He had come to borrow vase- 
 line on the principle of prevention being better than 
 cure. 
 
 " If I forget it, I know I shall cut myself when I'm 
 shaving to-morrow ; but if I have it by me, the chances 
 are all in my favour," he explained; and while she 
 
 E
 
 146 THE HEYTHKOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 got it, he once more ruefully ran through the Money 
 Market in the paper she had thrown down. 
 
 " After all, Blanche, it's not near so bad not to make 
 five hundred as it would be to lose five hundred ! " he 
 remarked finally, with some reason. 
 
 " Not near so bad ! " Blanche agreed, as she threw 
 the last of the rose leaves out of the window.
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 WAS it for good ? 
 
 0, these poor eyes are wet ; 
 
 And yet, 0, yet, 
 
 Now that we know, I would not, if I could, 
 
 Forget. 
 
 W. E. HENLEY.
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 Saffery Lodge. 
 
 IT was Miles, with his incomparable duchess in his 
 mind's eye, who nevertheless composed the 
 aphorism, that professional beauties are like 
 evening primroses, and don't show to their full 
 glory till the lamps are lit. A woman who looked 
 her best at breakfast was, on the other hand, the woman 
 a man should marry artificial women never did, being 
 his argument. On such subjects Major Eoyle was also 
 a connoisseur, and regarded Blanche with much inward 
 approval as he helped himself to breakfast rolls. But 
 Keppel had no theories on the subject, which was to say 
 Blanche was his whole theory of woman synchronized. 
 
 Calmly unconscious of the mental notes her guests 
 were making, Blanche began to read out paragraphs 
 from the Times. 
 
 " I wonder what the policy of the Government is 
 going to be ? " 
 
 " I wonder what's wrong with the coffee ? " interrupted 
 Miles. " Since Pullein left you have never had a cook 
 who could make a decent cup of coffee. Now at the 
 
 Carlton " 
 
 But Blanche had heard enough of the Carlton. " My 
 dear Miles, this whole house is run only to please you,
 
 150 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 and yet you're always complaining. I can't see anything 
 wrong with the coffee myself," she cried, raising her 
 voice with some natural impatience. 
 
 " Is that what you call the Voice that breathed o'er 
 Eden ? " Mortimer asked. " I had no idea you could 
 speak in such a strident tone." 
 
 Miles was very pleased ; he was always glad when 
 any one took his part against Blanche, never being very 
 sure of his authority at any time. 
 
 " If housekeeping isn't woman's province, I should 
 like to know what is," he grumbled. 
 
 " What is woman's province? I have often wondered," 
 said Major Eoyle. 
 
 " Woman's province is a buffer state betwixt man and 
 the servants within his gate. The valet is the only one 
 Miles ever says a word to ; he wouldn't offend the coach- 
 man or gardeners for any money," Blanche answered, 
 still sipping her coffee critically. 
 
 Lady Amelia and Mr. Evelyn Sloane were giving a 
 flower show that afternoon, to which the Heythrops were 
 bidden. Politics were to be combined with the flowers, 
 and Miles, and any one else he could press into the 
 service, was to close the proceedings by making a speech. 
 
 " Let me drive with you, Mrs. Heythrop," Major Eoyle 
 begged. " There's lots of room on the front seat, and I 
 promise not to crush Miss Eaton's frock. Men of my 
 build can fit in anywhere. But Miles, now, he's just the 
 awkward size ; and no one, no matter how they loved 
 him, could stand Keppel on the front seat of a victoria." 
 
 " What's that about Victoria ? I thought we were 
 the best of friends ! " Keppel exclaimed.
 
 SATURDAY 151 
 
 He and Victoria had been in the garden all the morning 
 writing letters at the same table : he had helped her to 
 refuse a proposal of marriage, to order a new dress, to 
 spell correctly all the many words about which she was 
 doubtful, and to write to half a dozen minor correspon- 
 dents. Victoria's detrimental was easily disposed of, but 
 the subject had necessitated a good deal of interesting 
 discussion, and they had both come to the conclusion 
 that the bond of marriage was a serious matter, not to 
 be undertaken lightly or without due consideration. 
 
 " You're considering it still, I suppose ? " Victoria 
 had said. 
 
 " Since marriage is the end of life, why should 
 life all marriage be ? I'm considering it still ! " 
 Keppel had answered, quoting somewhat at random ; 
 his wit, such as it was, being, however, totally lost on 
 Victoria. 
 
 Major Eoyle proved himself a charming companion 
 during the drive : he sang snatches of comic songs in a 
 sad, modulated tone, he nearly fell off the front seat each 
 time the carriage turned a corner, he buttoned Victoria's 
 gloves, made flattering remarks on Blanche's hat, and 
 told strangely equivocal tales, at which Mrs. Grundy 
 herself must have laughed. He did everything, in short, 
 except encroach on the narrow space or upset his own 
 extremely elegant appearance, though Victoria had 
 laughed so much she could laugh no more, and even 
 Blanche was exhausted, by the time they reached the 
 flower show. 
 
 They were received by Mr. Evelyn Sloane, a melan- 
 choly individual, whose life was spent in curing countless
 
 152 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 fanciful complaints, and who took them round the show 
 himself. 
 
 " We must," he sighed, in a resigned manner ; " so 
 much at least is expected of us." 
 
 But Blanche looked with indifferent eyes at Brobding- 
 nagian potatoes, giant bunches of hot-house grapes, and 
 dahlia heads thrust singly into holes in a green wooden 
 box. " He cometh not," she said, for Mortimer and 
 Miles were to follow in the pony cart, and the gate by 
 which they would enter was the only thing in the flower 
 show that really interested her. Mr. Evelyn Sloane was 
 much too unhappy to notice her abstraction, and pointed 
 to the potatoes with a groan. 
 
 " Concentrated indigestion ! They've ruined Ireland 
 and will ruin every other nation with dyspepsia, until 
 people have the strength of mind to knock them off. I 
 think myself we should eat a great deal more grass and 
 hay and oats than we do. In diet we should be guided 
 entirely by the wiser animals, such as horses, you 
 know; there are very few animals have more instinct 
 than the horse." 
 
 " Very few," agreed Blanche, wondering idly how hay 
 could be prepared for the table. 
 
 She looked towards the entrance gate again. Miles 
 had a habit of changing his mind at the last moment if the 
 humour seized him to do something else; but Mortimer 
 was different, he would come sure enough, he had said 
 he would, and she ceased to worry. 
 
 " I don't believe Miles and Mr. Keppel are coming," 
 exclaimed Victoria, a little later. 
 
 " They've been here for the last ten minutes,"
 
 SATUEDAY 153 
 
 Blanche answered serenely ; she had noticed their arrival 
 before any one else. The potatoes grew more interesting 
 then, and the dahlias' heavy heads. " Have you ever 
 tried charcoal ? " she suggested to her melancholy com- 
 panion. " I am not quite sure what it does, but you can 
 get biscuits made of nothing else." 
 
 Mortimer's back was towards her; he was still standing 
 by the entrance gate, leaning on his stick, and speaking 
 to Lady Amelia. 
 
 " Yet I've never had appendicitis ; that's queer now, 
 ain't it ? " went on Mr. Evelyn Sloane. " I should give no 
 prize for carrots if I had my way, nasty unwholesome things. 
 If I were to eat a carrot " what then would happen was 
 beyond speech, and he relapsed into dejected silence. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel had rather a magnificent way of 
 doing trivial things without ever being bored. As soon 
 as he decently could he left Lady Amelia, and joining 
 Blanche, became apparently so absorbed in the exhibits, 
 that his intelligent interest led even Mr. Sloane back to 
 another inspection of the tents. The primitive show 
 could scarcely have afforded him much gratification, 
 but courtesy and consideration for the feelings of others 
 was too strong a habit to ever fail. 
 
 " They've taken a lot of trouble in growing all this 
 stuff," he explained gently to Blanche, as a country- 
 man in toil-stained raiment proudly displayed an odd 
 lot of vegetables he had raised in his own garden. 
 
 Blanche watched how the countryman's rubicund 
 face shone with pride. 
 
 " Palace, house, hut, pigsty, you're equally at home, 
 in them all," she observed.
 
 154 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Mortimer never suited his outward demeanour to 
 people, his manners were always the same; he spoke 
 to the old woman who had grown the biggest cabbage 
 in the parish exactly as if she were a duchess, and the 
 old cabbage woman was as quick to recognize the tacit 
 compliment of his tones as a duchess would have been. 
 His knowledge of cabbages filled her with admiration ; 
 he might have been growing them all his life by all that 
 he seemed to know. 
 
 " A bit stifling, isn't it ? " he whispered after a little, 
 as he led the way out of the tent. A brass band was 
 playing cheery music under some trees, and he got 
 chairs for Blanche and himself in the shade. " I want 
 to ask you something," he said. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " what is it ? " 
 
 " That's the way I mean to propose to my wife. 
 I've often thought it over, and that way sounds better 
 than any other." 
 
 "And what have you arranged that she will 
 say?" 
 
 "I've often wondered about that too. What would 
 you say ? " 
 
 " I have never wondered, so I can't tell you ! But 
 you ought to be married, Mortimer, it's quite time." 
 
 " I'm not grey yet, am I ? " he asked, taking off his 
 hat. "I don't mean to marry till I'm grey. I shall 
 make less of a hash of it if I wait till then." 
 
 " Why make a hash at all ? Some marriages are 
 brilliantly happy." 
 
 " Not mine, not now. I shall never expect so much 
 as that, dear."
 
 SATUKDAY 155 
 
 When Mortimer called her " dear," Blanche always 
 lost all presence of mind. 
 
 "What's that they're playing? I know it so well," 
 she asked a little feverishly. 
 
 '"Keep off the grass,' isn't it?" he answered, 
 putting on his straw hat again, and thrusting it well 
 over his eyes. " As a matter of fact, I shall never 
 marry at all, because I can't marry you," he added, as 
 he folded his arms. 
 
 " I should like to say, ' Don't be so silly ! ' " 
 
 "And why not? It would not be the first time 
 you've snubbed me, by a long way. I wish you'd show 
 a little more feeling, my dear." 
 
 "I can'f show more feeling here. How could 
 I?" 
 
 "Easily enough, if you want to try. I shan't 
 prevent you ! " 
 
 " I suppose you would like me to change hats, like 
 'Arry and 'Arriet, and that sort of thing." 
 
 " I don't care a hang about the hats, I wouldn't 
 have you touch yours for worlds. But just tell me what 
 you mean by ' that sort of thing ' ? " 
 
 " I think I mean smoothing your hair, and putting 
 your tie straight, and so on." 
 
 "It's your eyes that do for me, Blanche!" he 
 suddenly exclaimed. " You have such sweet eyes, and 
 so clear, they would draw a man out of hell ; and they've 
 done so before now," he added. 
 
 "They're not half so good as your own, and my 
 eyebrows aren't half so beautifully arched. There's a 
 cachet about you no one else has, it makes me proud to
 
 156 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 think no one knows you but me. You do tell me every- 
 thing, don't you ? " 
 
 "I tell you more than I shall tell my wife. Poor 
 simple creature, what should I gain by opening her 
 eyes ? " 
 
 "Poor creature, indeed! You're miles beyond that 
 sort of woman." 
 
 "Perhaps so; but I don't agree with you all the 
 same. If you can't marry your ideal, always marry for 
 negative virtues, it saves a deal of worry in the long 
 run." 
 
 Blanche shook her head. " I should like to be first 
 myself, especially with a fastidious husband." 
 
 " So you shall. No one can come before you. If I 
 tried to forget you ten thousand years, I should always 
 remember how divine you looked in that hat. I never 
 saw you in anything so pretty before." 
 
 Blanche laughed. " It ought to be pretty," she 
 said, " if you only knew what it cost ! " 
 
 The time had now arrived for the small political 
 demonstration that usually closed the Sloanes' flower 
 show. Whether they would or no, the house had 
 become a stronghold of Unionism. Evelyn Sloane was 
 chairman of the local executive, and Lady Amelia's 
 father was at the time a Secretary of State. 
 
 " They asked me to stand, you know, but a parlia- 
 mentary life would have killed me too fast, and I'm a 
 little too young to die just yet," Mr. Evelyn Sloane 
 remarked in his dreary way. " The meals alone, and 
 the shocking irregularity! They all get indigestion 
 sooner or later, that's how it is a Government that has
 
 SATUEDAY 157 
 
 been long in office gets so stale. They ought to legislate 
 about more regular meals. I should have certainly 
 made it my speciality if I had been in the house." 
 
 Lady Amelia was tall and cold, with a very pronounced 
 aquiline nose. She took no interest in politics, or any- 
 thing else, except Persian cats, to the scientific breeding 
 of which most of her life was devoted. She begged 
 Blanche to sit beside her in the front row. 
 
 " Every one has been so kind about coming, and 
 every one has promised to speak. I can't bear politics 
 or demonstrations, especially when you have to be there ; 
 and Evelyn is no more fit to be on the platform than 
 I am," she remarked in the same even tones. "I'm 
 not dyspeptic myself, but I've suffered so much from 
 dyspepsia that the iron has entered into my soul. I 
 don't mean an iron tonic," she explained, with a smile. 
 " Though Evelyn lives on them, he'll die of them soon, 
 if he don't take care," she added. 
 
 "And do they enter into his soul ? " suggested Miles, 
 delicately. 
 
 "How are the cats?" Blanche asked quickly, and 
 Lady Amelia's thin face was suddenly transformed. 
 
 " I'll take you to see them afterwards, if they only 
 stop speaking in time. I've got the most perfect Chin- 
 chilla of my own breeding without any tabby markings 
 at all." 
 
 " I say, I'm going to sit on the platform they've 
 asked me," cried Major Boyle. "I'm glad I put on a dark 
 suit you should always wear navy blue at a political 
 meeting ; and it's lucky I put on my suede boots boots 
 show up so on a platform." Surveying his small neat
 
 158 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 feet with complacency, he pulled down his cuffs and 
 straightened his tie, with the profound gravity the 
 occasion required. "Lady Amelia's father will be 
 Colonial Secretary one of these days who knows but 
 I may be Governor of Nigeria yet ? " 
 
 " It's a pity you didn't bring a brush and comb when 
 you were about it ; I expect they'll all take off their 
 hats," Victoria observed. 
 
 " Never thought of that ! Do they, Mrs. Heythrop ? 
 I've never been to a show like this before." 
 
 " You generally take off your coat too, don't you ? " 
 Victoria continued. 
 
 But Mortimer had taken off his hat, and, the major 
 hastily doing likewise, climbed up on the platform. 
 
 " I don't understand politics a bit ; I wish you'd 
 explain what they're speaking about," Victoria de- 
 manded. 
 
 But Mr. Evelyn Sloane, who was chairman, had 
 risen. 
 
 " He'll sit down soon, I hope," said Lady Amelia. 
 " How is it all men imagine they can speak? " 
 
 Blanche shifted her chair ever so little; she could 
 now see Mortimer every time she looked up. 
 
 But Mr. Evelyn Sloane was clearly upset. He kept 
 looking at the glass of water and tumblers that had been 
 placed on the table, and sighing audibly. He began to 
 scribble a note as soon as he sat down, and watched it 
 being passed from hand to hand across the lawn with 
 the keenest solicitude. Something was evidently wrong. 
 Presently, however, his depression lifted, as a footman 
 came running from the house bearing a jug with a close
 
 SATUEDAY 150 
 
 silver lid. Major Eoyle picked it up, ostentatiously 
 scalding himself as he did so, while Mr. Sloane tested 
 the outside of the jug critically with his thin finger-tips. 
 He sighed again, but this time the sigh was one of 
 relief. Surely they might have known that he never 
 drank cold water, and that even hot water must be at 
 an exact [temperature before he could venture to take 
 so much as a sip. 
 
 When Miles rose to speak he was greeted with 
 cheers. He was always expected to amuse an audience, 
 and he generally did. He got on to the subject of the 
 franchise, somehow, and did what he could to make 
 the rustic voter recognize his privileges. 
 
 "A vote is an instrument of government and pledge 
 of opinion not my own definition, but a better man's 
 and you should all of you make yourselves worthy of 
 such a trust. You may be sure that a vote is well worth 
 having, else how is it women are so mighty anxious to 
 have one too ? As far as that goes, the only woman I 
 have ever met capable of having a vote is my wife, and 
 I know very well she would prefer that it should be her 
 husband's." 
 
 Every one looked at Blanche, and Victoria grew pink 
 with excitement. 
 
 " How nice of Miles ! I wish some one would begin 
 speaking about me." 
 
 " Nice ! " echoed Blanche. " It's anything but nice, 
 unless you know just when he means to stop." 
 
 But Major Eoyle's was perhaps the happiest speech 
 of all. No one quite knew what he was talking about, 
 or what the hinterland of Nigeria had to do with a rural
 
 160 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 constituency, but he justified his own tirade somehow, 
 and sat down amid a very thunder of applause. The 
 major would always be a popular hero, and had already 
 acquired the knack of filling the role. 
 
 Reinforced by frequent gulps of hot water, Mr. Evelyn 
 Sloane stood up to return thanks. Major Eoyle had 
 been a brilliant success, and he could not make enough 
 of the kind friends who had brought him hither. He 
 never became more involved than when he knew exactly 
 what it was he wanted to say. He halted and stam- 
 mered so much that Blanche gave up listening at last 
 the more so that Victoria was nudging her elbow to 
 make her [observe Major Royle's emerald-green socks. 
 The major's knees were crossed, and Victoria was lost 
 in admiration of his ankles and feet. 
 
 On the platform they still continued to propose and 
 to second the votes of thanks ; and, catching Mortimer's 
 eye, Blanche wondered why he should look at her with 
 such an equivocal smile. It must have been something 
 in the speeches she had missed, and she asked him about 
 it in the dining-room, when all the party were having 
 tea all except their host and hostess, that is to say ; 
 for Lady Amelia, having collected from the tea-table as 
 many jugs of cream as she could find, had gone off to 
 feed her Persian cats. 
 
 "Poor dears! they're not to be tempted unless with 
 the very richest cream," she explained, as she left her 
 guests to look after themselves. 
 
 Mr. Evelyn Sloane was meanwhile partaking of some 
 liquid patent food in a corner of the room, and could 
 speak to no one while so engaged.
 
 SATUKDAY 161 
 
 " I meant to ask you, what was it you were laughing 
 at as you came off the platform ? " Blanche exclaimed, 
 as Keppel offered her the drainings of a cream-jug. 
 
 He looked towards his host in the corner of the 
 room, and smiled again. 
 
 But Miles interrupted him. " Blanche, Blanche ! " 
 he cried, "I hope you're proud of your son ! Did you 
 hear what Sloane said when he was returning thanks ? 
 ' If there had not been a Mr. Miles Heythrop and 
 a Mrs. Heythrop, there would have been no Major 
 Eoyle.' " 
 
 Miles always spoke at the top of his voice. So long 
 as the person he was addressing heard what he had to 
 say, the people who might overhear never entered into 
 his calculations. 
 
 Mr. Evelyn Sloane, who had been thus overlooked, 
 stopped stirring his patent food. 
 
 "Oh, I say, did I say that?" he gasped, while a 
 faint tinge of what might once have been colour over- 
 spread his cadaverous face. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Eddy Eaton motored over to dinner 
 that night, and all through the first course every one 
 discussed which of the many devious country roads was 
 the best route to come by. Biding to hounds had made 
 them familiar with most of the lanes and byways, and 
 they all took a keen cross-country interest in the matter. 
 
 "That reminds me," said Miles. "A horrid fiasco, 
 the Chesterfield Cup! Did you think for a moment 
 Eollcall would have made all the running the way he 
 did?" 
 
 L
 
 162 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 "All the Ashley people were backing him, I hear 
 now. No stable secrets are better preserved," responded 
 Eddy Eaton, gloomily, having also suffered. 
 
 " Who is the owner?" some one asked; while Miles 
 went on to unnecessarily explain that he did not bet in 
 marbles. 
 
 "I know the man Kollcall belongs to," said Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton. "He never backs his horses, he never 
 bets at all, so one can never tell what his horses are 
 going to do. Beatrice seems to be the only person who 
 had ever heard of Kollcall, but she put it all down to 
 the ground." 
 
 " The form must have been wrong somehow. I put 
 all my money on Childe Harold ; he's a rare stayer, or 
 was, till yesterday," Miles remarked, while still con- 
 tinuing to comment on the astute stables that sheltered 
 Kollcall. 
 
 The size and disposition of the party had once more 
 placed Mortimer close to Blanche, and under cover of 
 the racing conversation he began to discuss her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 "I am very ignorant about dress. I often wonder 
 afterwards what sort of colour you were wearing." 
 
 "I never imagined those were the sort of things 
 you thought of." 
 
 " So long as anything has to do with you, I think 
 of it. I've begun to think of the income tax before this* 
 and ending by thinking of you ; the connection cotoes of 
 itself whether I will or no. It was just the same out 
 in Africa, I used to dream of you every night, and you 
 always said the same thing in the same voice."
 
 SATUKDAY 163 
 
 "What was it I said?" 
 
 "' Perhaps you may never come back.' And then 
 you put your hand on my arm, and I kissed you, 
 Blanche. It was a dream I loved to dream again and 
 again." 
 
 "Do be quiet, Mortimer; don't speak about your 
 dreams not just now ! " and Blanche hastily passed 
 him the menu, so that she might shut out the vision 
 that would arise of Mortimer, in a travel-stained 
 uniform, stretched by a bivouac fire, smiling even in 
 his heavy sleep. 
 
 It might have surprised that dinner-table of fairly 
 quick-witted folk not a little, could they have overheard 
 the impassioned trivialities passing between their calm, 
 contained hostess and the self-sufficient Mortimer Keppel, 
 who was so polite to every woman and so indifferent to 
 them all. 
 
 But Eddy Eaton had begun the famous story of the 
 Sunsuttons and the telephone, which was just then 
 going the rounds, though new to the party at Saffery 
 Lodge. 
 
 "It seems Sunsutton wanted to speak to Angela 
 from the club, so rang her up by telephone. ' Are you 
 there ? ' he said you know how the thing works. ' Oh, 
 is that you, darlin'. I thought I knew your voice ! ' she 
 answered in her sweetest tone. And Sunsutton flew 
 into an awful fury. c My name is not darlin', and it's 
 very evident you don't know my voice. I tell you I'm 
 your husband ! ' he shouted." 
 
 " And what did Angela say ? " every one inquired. 
 
 " Trust Angela, she's enough mother-wit for a much
 
 164 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 worse fix ! " answered Eddy Eaton. " ' I know it's you, 
 dear ; didn't I say I knew your voice ? ' she called back, 
 perjuring herself, no doubt. But what on earth could 
 Sunsutton say ? though every one knows the terms 
 they have been on since the beginning of the season." 
 
 "That's the worst of telephones!" remarked Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton. 
 
 " It's the worst of speaking politely to your husband ! " 
 echoed Blanche. 
 
 " How is it conjugal affection always seems to make 
 people so suspicious ? I can't think why ! " said Major 
 Royle, with the blandest expression of innocence on his 
 face. 
 
 " I say, I wonder who she thought she was talking 
 to ? " exclaimed Miles ; it was the part of the story that 
 interested him most, and beginning to grow suspicious, 
 he looked somewhat jealously all round the table. 
 
 " So whether it is a story with a moral or a story 
 without any morals, no one knows ! " concluded Eddy 
 Eaton, whose piece of pretty gossip had received as 
 much acclamation as any raconteur could well desire. 
 
 All through the summer every one who came to 
 Saffery Lodge spoke about the pink roses. 
 
 " I never saw such a shade of pink," said Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton, as she entered the drawing-room; "they are 
 exactly like a bunch I bought at a hat shop in Sloane 
 Street. We have nothing like them at the Castle, 
 though we have gardeners enough, I am sure. But 
 Mackenzie thinks of nothing but the yew hedges, and 
 all the under-gardeners are engaged to the maid- 
 servants, so they don't do much ; and Eddy refuses to
 
 SATUEDAY 165 
 
 interfere, because he says good servants are impossible 
 to find." 
 
 " Our gardener is a widower ; I don't know if that 
 makes any difference," remarked Blanche. 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy Eaton had other things than 
 gardeners to discuss. 
 
 " There is always so much I want to say to you, and 
 always so little time for saying it. When we do meet 
 we are always surrounded by tiresome men not that 
 I mean anything against the men, it would be even 
 more tiresome if they weren't there, and I would sooner 
 dine with Miles and Major Eoyle than any other men 
 in town. I dare say they don't mean a word they say, 
 but then, who ever supposed they did ? So long as 
 they amuse* you all the time, what does it matter?" 
 She broke off for a minute to admire the roses again ; 
 they were arranged in long loose sprays, and the heavy 
 heads scented the entire room. Then she caught sight 
 of a photograph on one of the tables. "It's Sybil, 
 isn't it? Pass it me, Victoria. She certainly is 
 wonderfully good-looking. Have you, by any chance, 
 heard the truth of the latest developments ? There was 
 a meeting, of trustees last week, and Eddy was there. 
 They say she has gone to Ireland, which seems 
 singularly ill-judged under the circumstances, but 
 Sybil never had any judgment. Can you explain her 
 conduct ? I own it's beyond me." 
 
 But whatever details Blanche might know, she was 
 never anxious to discuss the lamentable events that 
 had given Sybil Eaton's branch of the family so much 
 that was scandalous to talk about.
 
 166 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Perhaps she was in love ; it seems the only 
 explanation." 
 
 The point appeared to Mrs. Eddy Eaton worth 
 considering. 
 
 " Were you ever in love ? That is I should say 
 you're married I know! Not that it follows by any 
 means one might have married Miles for many reasons. 
 I myself have been passionately in love, but it was not 
 with Eddy, though we have always been the best of 
 friends, and I often wonder now how I could get on with- 
 out him ; and I will say that the way he helped me with 
 my dressmaker's bill was really noble. 'I suppose 
 a woman must dress,' was all he said it was such 
 a sensible remark to make all of his own accord ! The 
 bill was really outrageous too, and it's not as if Eddy 
 were a millionaire." Then she returned to her starting- 
 point. " Were you ever in love ? I forget what you said." 
 
 " Yes," answered Blanche, simply ; only primal 
 subjects interested Mrs. Eddy Eaton, and no question 
 or answer was ever too straightforward for her. 
 
 "Well, when you are in love, whether you can 
 marry the man or not, it doesn't make a bit of 
 difference, you like to be always meeting and having 
 him about. That's the way with a woman, I know, and 
 I suppose it's the same with a man, else they wouldn't 
 be always turning up." 
 
 " The world is made for men," Blanche responded 
 in a meditative way ; "they can do what they like." 
 
 " Yet I don't believe it's really love, half of it isn't. 
 I don't believe I really understand love myself, not the 
 sort of love some people seem to feel. Do you ? "
 
 SATUEDAY 167 
 
 " I understand one kind; it seems to me real enough." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton gazed at Blanche with genuine 
 interest ; for all her own experience of life, she had a 
 dim idea there was something in the world she had 
 never yet tested. 
 
 " What is it ? Can't you explain ? " she asked. 
 
 "In one way it's sympathy and perfect confidence, 
 telling everything and having everything told to you 
 and yet it's a good deal more." 
 
 " I've never confided in Eddy ; he's not that sort of 
 man at all." 
 
 " It's understanding each other absolutely, and being 
 understood." 
 
 " It must be lovely to have a husband who under- 
 stands you ! " 
 
 " I would rather be understood than anything else, 
 it is so killing to have to explain," agreed Blanche. 
 
 " Husbands are so selfish, that is what so quickly 
 stops love. They are so taken up with themselves and 
 their own concerns, and all they demand is a wife who 
 understands them ; as to understanding her, how many 
 of them think of that ? " 
 
 " All men are not selfish, and they understand more 
 than you would think at least some men do." 
 
 "In that case you may be quite sure some clever 
 woman has educated them and taken no end of trouble." 
 
 But Blanche would not agree ; she thought too much 
 of one man to think any man wholly bad. 
 
 " No doubt but marriage demands a whole host of 
 undreamt-of qualities, but men are every bit as equal to 
 the strain as women," she persisted.
 
 168 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " You must be unselfish and have a lot of heart for 
 that sort of love, my dear. Now, I'm intensely selfish, 
 and all I really want is a lot of money. All the same, 
 I wish I knew how you get the beautiful sort of devotion 
 some people seem to feel. It must be an art, and yet 
 how could you acquire it? What is love? can't you 
 tell me that ? " she asked again. 
 
 "If you are in love everything is different, and 
 ordinary things are nicer for the time. But I can't 
 explain it ; I don't think any one could." 
 
 " I don't understand that one little bit ! Why 
 should ordinary things be nicer? It's not sense, you 
 know." 
 
 But nothing could dim the ideal that still dwelt at 
 the back of Blanche's mind. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton could not make it out at all. " It 
 surprises me to hear any one talk like that, and still 
 believe in things, who has been married to " she was 
 going to have said, " to Miles Heythrop," but checked 
 herself just in time " who has been married as long 
 as you have," she said instead. " I can only sup- 
 pose that love of your sort is not for every one," she 
 added. 
 
 " That's true," said Blanche ; " perhaps it's not." 
 
 " I'm not even sure that I should altogether like it. 
 It must be worrying, and so uncomfortable, unless 
 everything went all right; and, of course, it never 
 does that." 
 
 "Whatever the price, I would rather pay it than 
 not understand." 
 
 " That's because you've got some depth in your
 
 SATUEDAY 169 
 
 character. I'm not a bit like that ; but if my character 
 is shallow, it's not so shallow as Eddy's ! " 
 
 This was some consolation, and reminded Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton of a subject on which she could hold her own with 
 any one. 
 
 " I know something about husbands, I will say that, 
 and the longer you live with one the more you see what 
 you gain by studying his follies. I don't believe in 
 letting your husband think he can get on without you, 
 you know ; so long as they always turn to you it's all 
 right; but once let them think they can manage by 
 themselves, and your influence is gone. Often I have 
 not wanted to go to places with Eddy, and been sorely 
 tempted, when he asked me, to say he could get on 
 all right alone; but so long as he thinks he can't, I 
 never shall. The rule mayn't apply to you, for Miles 
 depends on you implicitly as it is, but it applies to most 
 husbands." 
 
 Mrs. Eddy looked narrowly at Blanche once more : 
 when a woman ran down husbands it generally meant 
 she was reflecting on her own ; when she upheld them, 
 the thesis was presumably the same. Miles Heythrop 
 was a charming individual, more particularly as a 
 friend, but he was not the sort of man one would 
 associate with ideals. Mrs. Eddy had no knowledge of 
 vicarious living. Her own views of life were founded 
 on things that had happened directly to herself; so 
 far her knowledge was irrefutable, but she could not 
 imagine how another person's brain could grasp any- 
 thing beyond. 
 
 " When I believe in things I find it very hard not to
 
 170 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 believe. No matter what happens or what any one 
 does, I always feel it could in time be easily explained," 
 Blanche maintained, a little enigmatically. 
 
 But Mrs. Eddy shook her head. " You would believe 
 in a man, then, even if he took to beating you ? Well, 
 I should disbelieve for good and all the moment he 
 raised his hand. You're a great deal cleverer than I 
 am, Blanche, that's what it is. I don't know where 
 you get your cleverness from either ; I'm sure it's not 
 from the people you meet ! I suppose it must be from 
 newspapers, or else from Miles ; one might learn a deal 
 from him." 
 
 " Miles ! I should think. He's a liberal education ; 
 and I've been married how many years ? " 
 
 Her calculations were, however, stopped by the 
 entrance of Miles himself, come to summon them to the 
 billiard-room. 
 
 " Victoria knows a new game ; you know it too, don't 
 you, Eaton ? Suppose you teach us,'-' he said. 
 
 He went round the billiard-table with a brush in his 
 hand and a running fire of complaint on his lips. The 
 condition of the cloth was execrable : he had a great 
 mind to dismiss Wellwood on the spot an idle, pre- 
 suming fellow who was shamefully neglecting all his 
 duties. 
 
 "Have you a billiard-table on the West Coast?" 
 Blanche asked Major Eoyle, by way of turning the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Indeed we have, not a bad one either ; we've a 
 racecourse too. If I go out again, I shan't rest till I've 
 won the Governor's Cup. I tell you, Mrs. Heythrop,
 
 SATUKDAY 171 
 
 Nigeria will be second only to India one day; needs 
 developing, that's all." 
 
 " The climate would stump me," said Miles, who 
 was always very easily diverted. 
 
 " All right if you don't drink till after sundown." 
 
 " I dare say ; but in a land flowing with cocktails, 
 how is a fellow to manage that ? " objected Miles. And 
 Major Eoyle did not explain. 
 
 " They say fair men are less prone to fever than 
 dark; I don't know how true it is, but every one 
 believes it out there." He vaulted as he spoke lightly 
 on to the table, having taken off his coat as a prelimi- 
 nary ; and stretching himself flat across the green cloth, 
 as if he were going to swim, took a difficult aim at a 
 difficult ball, and gained what had seemed an impos- 
 sible pocket. " Hope I haven't cut the cloth with my 
 waistcoat buttons, Mrs. Heythrop, but I was really 
 obliged to," he said, as he righted himself again. 
 
 " I say, Miles, .what a cute idea, having your initials 
 printed on your cigarettes! Where did you get 'em 
 from ?" asked Eddy Eaton. 
 
 But Miles was too deeply engaged to answer. Seated 
 on the arm of a big leather chair, with a cue in one 
 hand, he was relating a somewhat questionable tale to 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton, who expostulated in vain. 
 
 " It's all right ; I'm an old married man, you know," 
 he explained apologetically. 
 
 "Miles!" exclaimed Blanche. It was all she ever 
 did say by way of checking his verbosity. 
 
 " My dear Miles, please wait till we've cleared the 
 court ! " added Major Eoyle.
 
 172 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 But Miles was determined to finish his story, more 
 than usually pleased with himself for having discovered 
 something that promised even to scandalize Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton. 
 
 " Mrs. Heythrop," he cried, pointing to Major Royle, 
 "kindly oblige me by not asking that person to the 
 house again." Then he turned to Mrs. Eddy. " Finally 
 she burst into tears, while he swore like a trooper, 
 and all the family jewels were scattered about the 
 room. But he kicked the fellow out of the house, 
 sure enough, for I met him in St. James's Street next 
 morning limping like a three-legged screw." 
 
 " What's the score ? " asked Blanche, from the corner 
 of the room, and Keppel came to help her. 
 
 " I have scarcely seen you, Blanche. To-morrow is 
 Sunday, do you know; and then comes the deluge, or 
 something quite as blank." 
 
 Blanche's hands were clasped on the long cue she 
 was holding; she looked pitifully at Mortimer's set 
 face. She was sorrier for him than she was for herself. 
 
 " Poor Mortimer ! I wish I could make you enjoy 
 your visit more ! " 
 
 " I wish you weren't such a good hostess. I wish 
 you would neglect all your other guests and attend only 
 to one. He would appreciate it, I can assure you." 
 
 " But I must look after the others, else they would 
 think me so rude ; and I always take it for granted that 
 you will understand." 
 
 " All very well, Blanche, yet here we are, the only 
 two people in the room who do understand or know 
 anything about love, and you expect me to be contented
 
 SATUKDAY 173 
 
 with crumbs ! I think you most unkind, and many 
 other things." 
 
 " And I think nothing but good of you ! It isn't fair 
 to find fault with me so." 
 
 " It isn't fair to look at me like that, not with such 
 adorable eyes and expect me to keep cool. I could 
 scandalize the room as easily as Miles, if I chose." 
 
 "You forget howl remember every word you ever 
 say, and how you upset me when you speak like 
 this." 
 
 " And now I have made you cry ! I can't bear that, 
 you know I can't. What makes you so sensitive, Blanche ? 
 What have I said?" 
 
 Blanche sighed. "It's very easy to be cruel to a 
 sensitive person, even without meaning it. Not that 
 you could ever be, dear ; I wasn't thinking of you." 
 
 But whom she might be thinking of roused a sudden 
 fury in Mortimer. He knew her so well that he never 
 hurt her feelings, but how was it possible for any other 
 man on earth to know her as well as he ? The problem 
 brought no pleasant thoughts. 
 
 " It's a pity I couldn't always have stood 'twixt 
 you and the world, Blanche. I would have been so 
 careful." 
 
 " What did you say the score was, Blanche ? " Miles 
 cried, having finished his story; and Blanche turned 
 obediently to the slate. 
 
 " Give me some chalk, dear, I can't reach it," she 
 said to Mortimer.
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 WE had not to look back on summer joys, 
 
 Or forward to a summer of bright dye : 
 
 But in the largeness of the evening earth 
 
 Our spirits grew as we went side by side. 
 
 The hour became her husband and my bride, 
 
 Love that had robbed us so, thus blessed our dearth ! . . . 
 
 Love that had robbed us of immortal things, 
 This little moment mercifully gave. 
 
 GEORGE MEEEDITH.
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 SaSery Lodge. 
 
 BLANCHE lay back on a low garden-chair ; she 
 was supremely blessed. The unutterable 
 peace of Sunday in midsummer lay on all 
 the hot landscape : trees upon trees, with 
 here an open brake, and there another leafy undulation, 
 and in the shimmering distance far away a soft pale 
 blue ridge of rising forest land. She had lived enough, 
 and perhaps suffered enough, to have mastered the 
 art of living for a while in the present. It would 
 all come back, doubtless, the blankness and pain ; 
 but for the mean time she was secure, and a look of 
 absolute content gave a more intense expression to every 
 feature of her face. She settled her cushions more 
 luxuriously, and looked at the long blue ridge on the 
 horizon, and devoutly pitied all those that morning who 
 could have no conception of her own ease of mind. And 
 Mortimer was quite as happy as she he was almost like 
 a boy when he was with her ; and she silenced such 
 scruples as would arise by trying to convince herself 
 their friendship was on a different plane to the ordinary 
 friendships of other people ; for everything seemed fair 
 that morning, even to expecting rather too much of 
 human nature. 
 
 M
 
 178 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Miles and Major Eoyle lounged in the shade of some 
 trees on the other side of the lawn, smoking many 
 cigarettes, and discussing with what energy they could 
 the best method of growing cotton in Nigeria. Mortimer 
 Keppel, who contrived to remain cool and stiff, in spite 
 of the heat, sat by an open window, writing letters that 
 could not be delayed ; gravely oblivious of all around 
 him, apparently at least, yet never for one moment un- 
 conscious of the fact that just within his line of vision 
 Blanche was sitting by the rose bushes on the lawn. 
 The night before, Mrs. Eddy Eaton had made some 
 sweeping assertions about propinquity and love. 
 
 " I suppose the real reason I feel happy is because 
 Mortimer is writing there close at hand," Blanche 
 reasoned idly with herself. 
 
 "You believe in marriage, don't you, Blanche?" 
 Victoria asked, breaking in on the drowsy peace ; she 
 had flung herself into a low chair, and, like Blanche, 
 was gazing at the sunny landscape, though, unlike 
 Blanche, she could not for long subsist on that alone. 
 
 Blanche loved her own thoughts, and put aside her 
 ruminations with a sigh. Mrs. Eddy Eaton had begged 
 her to do what she could to influence Victoria towards 
 Lord Inchgarvie ; the alliance was much to be desired, 
 and Victoria still refused to make up her mind. 
 
 " I think so, my dear, but, of course, not with every 
 man." 
 
 "Would you believe in it if you were me? I'm 
 thinking of Inchgarvie." 
 
 " I wonder why you think of any one else ! " 
 
 " How did you know I was thinking of some one else ? "
 
 SUNDAY 179 
 
 " You are, aren't you ? " 
 
 And Victoria nodded her head; she had enough 
 sense to realize that there was no good indulging in 
 small mysteries with Blanche. 
 
 " Didn't you loathe being engaged ? I know I shall. 
 Beatrice says I should kick over the traces and disobey 
 the fifth commandment flat, it's the one about parents, 
 you know. She says nothing would induce her to marry 
 Inchgarvie, and I don't believe anything would." 
 
 " She's ignorant still, and very young ; one changes 
 one's mind so, especially about marriage." 
 
 " Did you change your mind ? " 
 
 " Indeed I did." 
 
 " And has it saved you from a lot of mistakes ? " 
 
 But this was such a difficult question, that Blanche 
 was obliged to change the subject. 
 
 " It's rather a mistake to throw over a man when it 
 may be only for a whim. It's very easy to fancy you are 
 in love when you are not. I've done it myself before this." 
 
 " I wish one could give away men to some people, 
 and take them away from others," Victoria responded, 
 with a petulant frown. 
 
 " You should never give away your own man ; I 
 always think that is the height of meanness ! " 
 
 " I don't care if I am mean, they are much meaner. 
 I don't believe men ever marry the women they ought 
 to marry. They go and lose their money like fools, or 
 else they haven't any, which is every bit as foolish; 
 and yet Inchgarvie's money aggravates me more than 
 anything else. If only he hadn't got it, I should not 
 need to think of him twice."
 
 180 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Don't you think one forgets about the other man in 
 time ?" Blanche asked. "After a bit you would all be 
 as happy as if you had married the right ones if your 
 husband is nice, that is to say, and there were lots of 
 distractions ? " 
 
 She looked across the lawn to the library windows 
 as she spoke, and wondered what distractions would be 
 strong enough to make the presence of Mortimer Keppel 
 void ! But rules that applied to herself and him were 
 by no means for other people. 
 
 " That's just what I don't know does a husband 
 make you forget every other man ? " 
 
 " I spoke of distractions as well," Blanche answered 
 rather hastily. "Just look what you would be able 
 to do." 
 
 "I'm rather sick of distractions, I think; this last 
 week has been exactly like all the others. We went to 
 the Opera, which I hate ; when you don't know a word 
 they are singing, and there's no particular tune, it's 
 really rather flat. We went to a wedding in the after- 
 noon, and drove down to Hurlingham, and we dined at 
 Claridge's, and supped somewhere else, and at every one 
 of those places there was Inchgarvie glued to my side." 
 
 " And I'm afraid I did my best to continue that part 
 of the entertainment ! I asked him' down here for the 
 week-end, but he couldn't come. ' Urgent private 
 reasons prevented him, 1 he said." 
 
 "Just as well, perhaps! We're not on speaking 
 terms at present ; didn't you know ? He has gone to 
 Scotland ; but what his ridiculous reason for going may 
 be, I can't tell you."
 
 SUNDAY 181 
 
 Blanche looked beyond the garden at all the miles 
 of forest land, but she knew Victoria by her side saw 
 neither leaf nor tree. Love's young dream seemed such 
 a hard, prosaic affair it was difficult to find where the 
 romance came in at all. Calculating, heartless, and 
 selfish she felt a sudden distaste for the sorry burlesque 
 of it all. 
 
 " He had no right to go to Scotland," Victoria con- 
 tinued ; she was evidently nursing a grievance. " That 
 was what I complained of. He had promised to drive 
 me down to Henley in his car. We were to have 
 lunched with Welcome's sister, and all have gone on 
 the river together, and then at the last minute he comes 
 and says he must put it off." 
 
 " Didn't he explain ?" asked Blanche. It seemed to 
 her a pitiful thing to be so captious and flippant, and to 
 think so little of affection and what it was really worth. 
 
 " I wouldn't let him explain. He began some story 
 in his silly disconnected way, but I never even listened, 
 for I cut him short and told him straight that if he 
 preferred going to Scotland to taking me to Henley, he 
 could ! He got quite cross then, but he wouldn't speak 
 for ages, I expect he was counting seven or something ; 
 so I said as many disagreeable things as I could, to fill 
 up the pause. He must have an awful temper, but he 
 didn't dare to show it ; he only walked about the room, 
 with his face getting quite white, and there were tears 
 in his eyes too ! He said something about me being 
 unsympathetic, and the question was not one of prefer- 
 ring to go to Scotland. ' What is it, then ?' I said. But 
 he only got huffy and refused to explain. ' I'm sorry
 
 182 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 you trust me so little,' he said, and he bowed like a 
 stranger, and went away without even saying good-bye. 
 It was rather like a Drury Lane melodrama, only he 
 didn't bang the door ; he shut it quite gently, and his 
 eyes were still full of tears. I should be sorry to walk 
 about Park Lane with tears in my eyes myself ! " she 
 added contemptuously. 
 
 " I expect you are misjudging him completely," said 
 Blanche. " Depend upon it, he had some good reason 
 for his tears. Perhaps some of his people in Scotland 
 are ill, and he may be very fond of them." 
 
 " None of his people are in Scotland just now, and 
 he isn't fond of any one but me. I often wish he was, I 
 never knew a less exciting man." 
 
 "You must have hurt his feelings in any case, men 
 are more sensitive than you would think." 
 
 "He didn't look near so sandy and silly when he 
 got cross I must say that," Victoria admitted. 
 
 "And what's to happen now?" asked Blanche; 
 Victoria's moral character was, after all, nothing to her. 
 
 "He'll write and apologize, I should imagine. 
 Don't you think he ought ? " 
 
 " No man has ever apologized to me in his life ; I 
 don't count making up little tiffs with Miles." 
 
 Victoria looked somewhat blank, Blanche's mode of 
 life was so very different to her own. 
 
 "What do they do when you quarrel, then? You 
 surely don't mean that you apologize ? " 
 
 " I don't quarrel with men I only know slightly, and 
 have still less wish to quarrel with men I know well," 
 Blanche answered a little coldly.
 
 SUNDAY 183 
 
 " It's because you're clever," exclaimed Victoria it 
 was the only way she could at all account for Blanche. 
 " You're so magnanimous and splendid, and never take 
 mean advantage of things, like me. If I were a man, I 
 should look out for a woman like you; but they are 
 such idiots, they never seem to know the difference, 
 and then they are the first to complain when they find 
 themselves married to a woman with a raging temper." 
 
 Blanche laughed. " Inchgarvie would never do that 
 not if he married you." 
 
 But Victoria went on, speaking with real feeling this 
 time. 
 
 " Sometimes I loathe Welcome nothing could ever 
 make him unhappy ; and it's not fair for one person to 
 be made like that and not the others. And sometimes I 
 think I shall marry Inchgarvie and have done with it. 
 And then sometimes I don't loathe Welcome at all, 
 that's the worst of it," she concluded, with characteristic 
 Eaton honesty. 
 
 She really did not know what it was she wanted; 
 primitive instincts were warring together with inherited 
 wisdom, and the jumble of undisciplined emotion was 
 more than she could comprehend. 
 
 "Poor thing!" said Blanche, gently; "I wish I 
 could help you. Why not fall in love with Inchgarvie, 
 it would settle you so, and dispose of everything else." 
 
 " I don't suppose I am in love by any chance ?" she 
 asked, staring at Blanche. 
 
 "Oh no, that's not love," Blanche answered decidedly. 
 
 " I really wish I knew what it was, then. I wish I 
 was clever and understood books and being unselfish
 
 184 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 and devoted to other people. I hate being as silly as 
 every one else." 
 
 "But you're not, my dear; and you're a great deal 
 prettier." 
 
 "Am I?" Victoria asked. "Being admired only 
 makes me vain ; no one has ever liked me for myself, 
 I know that. Of course, I do love society," she added, 
 " and I don't really mind going to the Opera, but one 
 needn't give up that to have the other thing, and I 
 should like both." 
 
 " Why, there are tears in your eyes too ; you're as 
 bad as Inchgarvie ! " said Blanche. 
 
 Victoria smiled. "I wonder what he was crying 
 for. I wish now I had not been such a brute," she 
 observed reflectively. 
 
 Blanche suggested that as far as that went, it was 
 not yet too late. 
 
 " I don't really believe . I'm good enough for him. 
 You'll think me very contradictious, but though I can't 
 stand Inchgarvie, there's something about him, some- 
 how, that makes the silly things he does rather nice 
 you feel they're rather nice, I mean, even if they're 
 silly. Mr. Keppel has got just the same way, only 
 nothing he does is ever silly, of course; and yet I'm 
 not in love with Mr. Keppel." 
 
 " How strange ! " responded Blanche. 
 
 At all times it seemed to her the strangest thing in 
 the world that there should be people who could look 
 upon Mortimer with absolutely dispassionate eyes. But 
 Victoria and her woes had genuinely interested her. 
 
 " If you really want to understand love, you are
 
 SUNDAY 185 
 
 quite sure to one day, and you're more likely to learn 
 it from Inchgarvie. Welcome is far too gay a dog. I 
 should cultivate your character, if I were you, it always 
 gives you something to go upon. The more I live, the 
 more I think one should try to take an intelligent 
 interest in outside things, like the country, and books, 
 and sport, and not depend too much on people; even 
 one's dearest friend is liable to come short, or forget, 
 or, in any case, to go away. Not a husband, of course ; 
 but I think you said you were never going to marry ? " 
 
 Blanche spoke with the least little touch of sarcasm, 
 and Victoria began to change her mind; she had no 
 wish for Blanche Heythrop to think her a fool. 
 
 "Does every one forget and go away?" she asked 
 rather forlornly. 
 
 " Oh no," said Blanche, with a good deal of feeling ; 
 she herself knew one who would never, never change ! 
 But the gospel was far too hard to explain to a pretty 
 spoilt child. 
 
 "I am sorry I could not hear what you two were 
 saying," said Mortimer; he had finished his last letter, 
 and, crossing the lawn, dropped into a garden-chair 
 by Blanche's side. 
 
 "We've been speaking about marriage," she ex- 
 plained. 
 
 "I wish you'd speak to me about marriage, I'm 
 really very ignorant. Of course, I know all about a 
 wife's duties, every man does, but I never quite know 
 what you expect of a husband." 
 
 " Common politeness," answered Blanche, " one 
 should never demand too much."
 
 186 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Mortimer Keppel swore quietly to himself at intervals 
 all through that warm, sunny afternoon. 
 
 " I know, dear," Blanche whispered, when he ex- 
 postulated. "I would like to kill every one too, so that 
 you and I might be left in peace among the ruins ! Wait 
 till after tea," she added ; while he murmured to himself 
 that he certainly would kill some one if it went on much 
 longer. 
 
 But Miles was very anxious for his company, and 
 Major Eoyle insisted he should play croquet, and though 
 Victoria, who was his partner, had heen an angel from 
 heaven, she could not have appeased the impatience in 
 his heart. 
 
 " Tea in less than no time ; general conversation, 
 which I loathe, when Blanche is there ; a walk over the 
 brake, with the family close behind, and we have lost 
 the day ! " he kept calculating bitterly to himself 
 playing the wrong ball in his abstraction, and paying 
 so little attention to Victoria's remarks, that she asked 
 him at last if he had got toothache ? 
 
 " Toothache ? more likely it's the heartache. No 
 one knows what we poor bachelors endure," he answered 
 so seriously, that Victoria laughed aloud at the excellent 
 joke. 
 
 " It's a horrid complaint, I can tell you, Blanche," 
 he persisted. 
 
 Major Eoyle and Victoria had gone to dispute about 
 a ball on the other side of the lawn. 
 
 " Only when the other person doesn't care ! " 
 
 " And how do I know she does care ? " 
 
 "Because she does," Blanche answered soothingly.
 
 SUNDAY 187 
 
 "If you've any sense, you'll knock my ball out of 
 position ; there's no good putting me through the hoop, 
 you know." 
 
 Keppel surveyed the balls doubtfully. "I should 
 hate to give you a beating, my love," he observed, as 
 he slightly raised his eyebrows and looked at his 
 adversary with a quizzical expression. 
 
 Suddenly the voice of Miles, loud and vehement, 
 broke in on the afternoon stillness. He was beside 
 himself with indignation, so much was evident ; and 
 each remark made by the footman, to whom he was 
 speaking, only served to increase his wrath. 
 
 "It sounds as though he meant murder. Come, 
 Mortimer, and see what it is," cried Blanche, who 
 always interfered when Miles went beyond a certain limit. 
 
 " Never posted the most important letter of all the 
 batch. He couldn't have selected more carefully if he 
 had done the thing on purpose! Everything depends 
 on it's being delivered in town first post to-morrow 
 morning, and Mr. bloomin' Wellwood goes off with 
 every letter but this. Like his confounded stupidity. 
 Why they ever went and abolished slaves, I can't think ! 
 They were ever so much better a class than these idiots ; 
 you paid them nothing, too, and beat them within an 
 inch of their life if you pleased. I've a jolly good mind 
 to sack the whole lot, from Wellwood down." 
 
 Henry had retired with what speed he could the 
 moment Blanche appeared; the missis was more able 
 to cope with the " Honerable 'Eythrop " than he, and 
 Miles accordingly began to explain. 
 
 Saffery Lodge was some way from the post town,
 
 188 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 and the local box, at which letters from the Lodge were 
 always posted, must have been cleared an hour ago, 
 when Wellwood had gone, taking with him all the letters 
 but this. To send over to Copley Green, the only alter- 
 native to giving the matter up, was a difficult business 
 so late in the evening, because of the distance ; besides 
 which the coachman was gone for the day, and the groom 
 could not be spared. 
 
 "All the gardeners have gone to church. Let me 
 go, dear; I should love to," Blanche exclaimed, quite 
 breathlessly. 
 
 "Where is Copley Green? Can't I go," added 
 Mortimer; they were both of them quite as excited as 
 Miles. 
 
 " I would go myself, but I can't. Sloane is coming 
 here this evening on purpose to see me about some 
 mines, and I must be at home. I'm in the thing 
 myself, and it's all most important. I can't spare the 
 groom either, for Sloane's going to ride, and I promised 
 him to have the horse looked after." 
 
 "All right," said Blanche, "order the pony-cart. 
 There's just time, if I start at once." 
 
 " Take Mortimer, then. You must, Blanche, I won't 
 hear of you going alone ; it will take you two hours to 
 drive to Copley Green and back. Why on earth any 
 fool ever buried a post-office in such an un-get-at-able 
 corner, I can't imagine. I shall write to the Post- 
 master General this evening, see if I don't, and tell 
 him how awkward it is having the latest post-box 
 so far away. I've complained about it down here till 
 I'm black in the face. As to Wellwood, I tell you,
 
 SUNDAY 189 
 
 Blanche, both his parents must have been reared in 
 Bedlam." 
 
 " I don't know where they were reared. And don't 
 find fault with Wellwood promise me you won't." 
 
 But Miles was all contrition and gratitude. " I've got 
 a devil of a temper, my dear, and no mistake. I only hope 
 you didn't hear all I said. It's very good of you and Kep- 
 pel, and I'm very much obliged to you both. There was 
 nothing else you wanted to do, was there ? But, you see, 
 if I miss this mail it may upset the whole apple-cart." 
 
 He waited about till they started, and helped Blanche 
 into the cart, and promised not to forget her when he 
 became a richer man ; and he thought of nothing but 
 African mines till they came back. 
 
 If Blanche and Mortimer had lived their lives for 
 that one hour, it could not have been said that they had 
 lived in vain. 
 
 Crossing the common, they turned off the highway 
 by a grassy track, and plunged into the warm depth of 
 the Forest, where golden shadows were lying heavy on 
 all the forest trees. 
 
 " The gods are sometimes kind ! " said Mortimer, as 
 he pushed his hat off his forehead. 
 
 " It wasn't the gods ! " Blanche put her hand lightly 
 on his arm, and laughed. " It wasn't even Wellwood. 
 I hid the letter myself, and everything turned out just 
 as I hoped." 
 
 " Oh, I say, Blanche, did you want to drive with me 
 as much as that ? " 
 
 She nodded. " You're going to-morrow, and no one 
 knows when we shall meet again."
 
 190 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " You've got an awfully pretty colour on your face, 
 my darling. What makes you look like that ? " 
 
 " I always look like that when I'm happy ! Be- 
 sides, I'm out of breath ; we came away in such a 
 hurry." 
 
 " There's something about you, Blanche, makes me 
 quite mad ; it may be electricity, perhaps, but I feel it 
 the minute you come into the room. Perhaps it's your 
 reticence : so few women have any ; that's how it is one 
 tires of them so. All my life I've always liked best what 
 I can't get enough of, and I never have enough of you. 
 I always go away wanting more." 
 
 " Don't be silly, dearest ; I love you much more 
 than that." 
 
 "You can't; it isn't possible. When I'm away 
 from you it's like living for ever without any sun; 
 and I sometimes shudder when I think of my miser- 
 able, lonely life. If it weren't for your letters, 
 Blanche 
 
 "Don't go on like that, else you'll make me cry. 
 You frighten me sometimes, and sometimes I am 
 frightened of myself." She grew pale as she spoke, and 
 the pretty pink colour all left her face. 
 
 " You needn't be frightened of me. I wouldn't hurt 
 one hair of your head, not if it were to save my 
 life. But when I think if I had but met you in time 
 and married you, Blanche, I could curse the gods aloud 
 at the awful pity of it all." 
 
 " Perhaps it would have been too perfect for life ; 
 no one has ever been so happy as that as we should 
 have been, I mean."
 
 SUNDAY 191 
 
 " And no one marries in the next world, and yet 
 they call it heaven. I can't understand it, Blanche. 
 I don't want happiness, or security, or redemption ; I 
 only want you. No heaven is high enough for that, 
 and our only chance of getting it here is such an awful 
 hazard. One breathless span of life against the whole of 
 everlasting eternity, and the chances all dead against it's 
 ever coming off. It's simple enough for other people to 
 live according to their miserable convictions people who 
 love like we do should have their own almighty rules." 
 
 " Do be more religious, dearest ; you're frightening 
 me again." 
 
 " I am religious love is religion, at least it's mine 
 and whatever may become of my soul, my body could 
 never stop worshipping you in this world or the next, 
 and no wretched parson, who has never loved in his 
 anaemic life, need try to tell me otherwise." 
 
 " I sometimes wish I hadn't so much self-control," 
 Blanche agreed. " Other people have so much excuse 
 for everything they do. I should never have any. And 
 when I think how fast the time is going away, and that 
 this is our only chance, I get so frantic I could scream." 
 
 They were climbing a steep hill, and Blanche, letting 
 the pony pick it's own way, held out her hand to 
 Keppel; some human comfort she must have, and 
 clinging to Mortimer was like holding by a sheet anchor. 
 He murmured some words of endearment 
 
 " I love you with every love a man can have God 
 knows I love you as a man loves as well ! But if you 
 agreed to run away with me to-morrow, part of my love 
 would cry out against it, I know it would."
 
 192 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " I loathe convention as much as you," Blanche 
 responded a little hurriedly ; " I loathe everything that 
 is narrow and mean. Honour isn't, and it should be 
 as strong as love, I am sure it should. It's easier for 
 you to talk, dearest ; but it's rather base of me. You 
 know how you'd feel yourself, if you had bound yourself 
 by a promise." 
 
 Mortimer sighed. " I only know that, when I'm 
 loving you like a brother and I'm not loving you that 
 way to-night ! I sometimes wonder if they altogether 
 realized when they made the world what an uncon- 
 scionable power love would become. Surely they would 
 have made some permanent provision for marriage in 
 the next world if they had." 
 
 " Perhaps they have. I can't see how it is to 
 stop." 
 
 " Or where it is to stop ! " he suggested. " What is 
 your religion, Blanche ? I wish you would tell me." 
 
 " To be happy one's self, and to make what other 
 people one can happy also. It embraces more than you 
 would think." 
 
 " So long as it embraces me, I never heard a sounder 
 creed." 
 
 But Blanche drew back. "Not just now no, 
 dearest, don't ! How can I drive if you go on like this ? 
 Happiness is our birthright," she continued, as she 
 straightened _, herself ; "it's a Divine right, anyway, and 
 makes you more fit for life than anything else does." 
 
 " Very true, I'm sure ; but why are you sitting on 
 the splash-board? It almost looks as if you were 
 trying to keep me at a distance."
 
 SUNDAY 193 
 
 Blanche laughed, and shifted her seat. " I can't 
 trust you, dear ; that's what it is." 
 
 " You'll never be able to trust a man if you're always 
 mistrusting him, never." 
 
 " That's true," she agreed. " To know you are 
 trusted implicitly is much more likely to keep you 
 straight." 
 
 " Do you mean me when you say you ? " he asked, 
 wondering a little at the profound inflection in her 
 voice. 
 
 " I was thinking of myself and Miles," she answered. 
 The only thing in the world Miles Heythrop really 
 believed in was his wife. 
 
 " All very well, my darlin' ; but, if I don't have you 
 now, when shall I ? " 
 
 " Put on your hat ; it'll fall off if you push it much 
 further back. I never saw such a beautifully shaped 
 nose," she added, half to herself. 
 
 Mortimer laughed. " Much the same as most 
 people's noses, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Not at all the same ! But I want to speak to you 
 seriously," she continued. 
 
 " Good heavens ! Do you think I've been joking all 
 this time? Here, you're taking the wrong turning. 
 Look at the sign-post, three miles to Copley Green. I 
 wish it was Gretna Green we were going to, instead of 
 this Copley place ! " 
 
 " Have you got Miles's letter? I suppose you know 
 he stands to win 1000 ? " 
 
 " And you went out of your way to risk the whole 
 s um ! " 
 
 N
 
 194 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Blanche maintained that it hadn't been a risk, she 
 had intended to drive to Copley Green all along. 
 
 "I thought you'd like to see some of the Forest 
 scenery." 
 
 " Thanks, Mrs. Heythrop, I'm very much obliged. I 
 never knew a kinder hostess. What do you want to speak 
 to me seriously about ? I'm waiting for you to begin." 
 
 " You ought to be married, Mortimer ; you're one of 
 the marrying sort, and you would be ever so much 
 happier if you were." 
 
 " Don't speak such drivel, Blanche ; I loathe the 
 idea of a dull mediocre wife." She tried to interrupt 
 him, but he only shook his head. " They'd all be dull 
 to me, deadly dull. It's like your kindness to try and 
 think of something to make up, but nothing ever can." 
 
 " You ought to marry for the sake of your family." 
 
 " I've got no family, I tell you ; I'm the lone lorn one."- 
 
 " All the more reason you should marry and found 
 one then. Do you never think of Charlton Dammarel, 
 and what is due to the place ? You should be married 
 and settled down in it by now, like other men. We're 
 all getting on, and you are older than I." 
 
 " Can't quite see myself founding the Keppel family 
 what! Fancy having children with brown eyes or 
 green, when I only wanted them to have eyes exactly 
 like yours ! " 
 
 The quizzical expression on Mortimer's face was 
 irresistible, and Blanche laughed lightly, but stopped 
 as suddenly. The idea of Mortimer's children gave her 
 an odd turn. 
 
 " Men love so easily," she began once more.
 
 SUNDAY 195 
 
 " I loved too easily when I first met you to ever love 
 again. Do you remember, Blanche, it was at old 
 Heythrop's, and I was late for tea ? " 
 
 " I've been remembering it ever since. When did 
 you notice me ? " she asked. 
 
 " I noticed you so instantly, it must have been the 
 moment I came into the room. But it was your voice 
 I really noticed first no other voice was ever half so 
 sweet; then old Heythrop brought me up. But you 
 had looked at me before that, Blanche ; you looked me 
 straight in the face with the divinest stare in the world, 
 and I lost my heart for good and all." 
 
 " I was so glad when you came and sat by the tea- 
 table. Do you remember how bold I was ? I asked 
 for your photograph before we had talked five minutes. 
 I said Miles wanted it for his smoking-room, and was so 
 annoyed that it had not been sent." 
 
 "And I went straight to the photographer's shop 
 when I left the house, and got taken then and there." 
 
 " It never went into the smoking-room," she remarked 
 quietly, as they both lingered over the charm of recalling 
 those early days when the veil was still between. 
 
 But Blanche clung to her main point. " I can't 
 quite think of any one just now, but there must be 
 another woman." 
 
 " She could never love me as you do, and she would 
 be certain to hate you, they always do. I can see her 
 sneer of a Sunday afternoon when I left her to go over 
 to SafFery Lodge." 
 
 "How horrid and dull for her! What would she 
 meantime be doing ? "
 
 196 THE HEYTHKOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Mortimer raised his arched eyebrows. " Doing ? 
 Oh, she would be founding the family, I suppose. How- 
 ever that might be, I should be sitting in one of those 
 rose-coloured chairs in your boudoir, pouring out my 
 woes, and kissing the hem of your garment." 
 
 " Indeed you should be doing nothing of the kind ! " 
 Blanche protested. 
 
 " How bold you are, my darling ; of course, I would 
 rather kiss your face ! But imagine going home again 
 and being questioned by an irate woman who imagined 
 she had the right ! What would it be to her whether I 
 had kissed you or not ? And you may be sure she 
 would ask me if I had. You know well enough why I 
 don't marry, Blanche : it would be impossible, dear. To 
 be in love with you is enough to put one against every 
 other woman in England." 
 
 He spoke sadly and so simply, it was more a 
 pang than a thrill that Blanche experienced, as she 
 listened to his words ; she was too sad to feel proud, 
 yet too proud to be absolutely sorry. 
 
 " Then all I have done is to have spoilt your life, and 
 kept you from being the best husband in the world to 
 some other most fortunate woman. I'm really very 
 sorry," she said, looking at him with most piteous eyes. 
 
 Whatever rules Blanche laid down, Keppel always 
 abandoned them all the instant she showed any sign of 
 distress ; he could never bear to see a woman cry, and 
 when the woman was Blanche every motive of prudence 
 was forgotten. He leant towards her now. To do so 
 was involuntary, but not to kiss the hem of her garment ; 
 that was for cooler moments.
 
 SUNDAY 197 
 
 " I can't help it," he declared, as he pressed his lips 
 to her face; "you should never have cried." 
 
 "I've stopped crying indeed I have," she told him ; 
 but he held her for a moment longer. 
 
 A brother might have held her in just the same way, 
 Blanche thought ; and yet it was so far from brotherly 
 that her heart misgave her, and she released herself 
 with what speed she could, protesting gently that he 
 was only making their friendship more difficult for her. 
 
 " Don't say that, when I value your friendship more 
 than anything I possess. I should never have been satis- 
 fied with any one's love but yours. The terms of our 
 friendship are what make me so proud. You could not 
 have trusted any other man, and you trust me as if I 
 were your brother. It isn't your fault or mine that we 
 met too late. We are neither of us children, and even if 
 we could pretend that we were nothing to each other, it 
 would be idle to do so. We were never meant to kill an 
 instinct so strong as that." Then he spoke a little lower, 
 and looked at her with intent eyes. " That's not the sort 
 of love that spoils a man's life. It was like your pluck to 
 let me know you cared a coward never would ; but half 
 the affection was mine, and you knew it was only fair. I 
 can't help thinking of you always, Blanche ; I don't ever 
 try to help it ! You are my dearest thought ; and I tell 
 you, if I had died at the Front, as so many men did, I 
 should have blessed your name with my last breath." 
 
 Blanche turned away her head ; for a minute neither 
 of them spoke. 
 
 " Blanche, darling, would you really like me to 
 marry? " Keppel asked at length.
 
 198 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " I should loathe it, dearest, more than I can say ! " 
 she answered, with a break in her voice that for the 
 moment left her speechless. " Take the reins for a 
 minute ; I want to pick some of that scented fern ! " she 
 cried, conscious that much more emotion would be more 
 than either of them could stand just then. 
 
 Every foolish thing was a pleasure that night, and 
 the drive to Copley Green was one they never forgot. 
 
 " Here we are this is the place," Blanche said, as 
 they came at length to a forest clearing that was covered 
 with little green hillocks and flooded with level sunshine. 
 
 Behind the scattered village a steep moor climbed up 
 to the trees again, a flock of white geese came down by 
 the edge of a gravel-pit, while a round pond in the 
 corner reflected the picture all over again. A girl in a 
 pink sun-bonnet looked timidly over one of the garden 
 gates, and a queer old person stooping over some bee- 
 hives in another garden pulled his forelock ; otherwise 
 Copley Green evinced no interest whatever as Blanche 
 pulled up the pony and looked around. 
 
 " I always think I should like to live here for a bit ; 
 it reminds me of a fairy tale." 
 
 " Or a honeymoon," suggested Keppel, who could 
 never stop joking. " We might come here for our honey- 
 moon, Blanche. What do you say ?" 
 
 Blanche shook her head. " But I can never make 
 out who writes the letters, or why in the world they 
 should put a post-box here." 
 
 " Perhaps the little goose-girl writes to the pelican 
 in the wilderness," said Keppel, as the girl in the sun- 
 bonnet fled shyly at their approach.
 
 SUNDAY 199 
 
 " I shall come here one day when you are gone, and 
 live in one of those charming cottages, and explore the 
 Forest, and try and forget there ever was such a man. 
 I should like it immensely. I know I should." 
 
 " I doubt if any one here would understand how to 
 cater for the most fastidious woman in England. That 
 old fossil, for instance, looks to me as if his father had 
 been an oak tree and his mother a badger." 
 
 " He looks as if his clothes withered in autumn," 
 agreed Blanche, as she smiled at the ancient forester, 
 who stared at them as though at strangers from another 
 world, and then turned back to his beehives again, with 
 the deliberate preoccupation of a vegetating mind. 
 
 " Next collection at 7.30 ; we are in plenty of time," 
 said Keppel, as he pushed aside a tangle of fuchsia 
 and rose tree, and slipped Miles's letter into the anti- 
 quated post-box that was let into the gable-end of the 
 cottage. 
 
 Try as she would afterwards, Blanche could never 
 remember just what it was they talked about on the 
 way home. She remembered saying she loved the Forest 
 more than any other part of the world, and Mortimer 
 asking if there were many red deer about. Beyond that, 
 the long drive was only a blissful memory of talking on 
 and on, and driving deeper and deeper into the Forest, 
 till the overhanging branches almost brushed their faces, 
 and Keppel had again and again to put out his arm and 
 draw her aside, so that Blanche was almost sorry to 
 come out on the open track again. 
 
 It seemed as though the sun would never set that 
 night ; the light was dazzling still as they drove across
 
 200 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Saffery Brake, while Saffery Lodge was almost hidden 
 in a rosy mist. 
 
 " What's that ? " cried Keppel, as they turned in at 
 the gate. " An owl ? Owls are supposed to be birds of 
 ill omen to our race." 
 
 " It's a hen, a Dorking hen ; where can it have come 
 from ? " answered Blanche. 
 
 " Watch out there ; the hens have got loose ! " shouted 
 Major Royle at the same moment, as he came towards 
 them flourishing a green watering-pot. 
 
 But before he had time to explain, a flustered hen, 
 with outspread wings and outstretched neck, appeared 
 on the lawn, and, vaulting nimbly over a flower-bed, he 
 went off again in hot pursuit. Miles, who had also joined 
 the chase, though not with such energy, was in among 
 the sweet peas, throwing handy missiles in every direc- 
 tion, and issuing orders between whiles to the footman 
 and groom, who were both enjoying the fun. 
 
 " What the deuce is it ? " cried Keppel, jumping from 
 the pony-cart and instinctively joining the sport, to be 
 almost tripped up by an angry barn-door fowl that ran 
 out from under the wheels of the cart. 
 
 " Here, Sims, beat up that covert, and don't stand 
 grinning like an owl," Miles shouted to the man from 
 the stables, who plunged obediently into a thicket of 
 rhododendrons. 
 
 "Oh, Miles, do be quiet!" cried Blanche; "you'll hustle 
 all the poor creatures into fifty fits if you shout like that." 
 
 She besought him to open the side door and let 
 them into the lane, and implored Major Boyle to have 
 mercy on a small terrified bantam cock.
 
 SUNDAY 201 
 
 " All right, Mrs. Heythrop, there's a nice lot heading 
 this way if you'll kindly keep them off the rose bushes. 
 Whatever I am, I'm not a hen, Miles ! " he added, duck- 
 ing just in time to escape some of the stones Miles was 
 flinging about. 
 
 Blanche turned to the footman then, and calling to 
 him severely, told him to stop breaking the rhododen- 
 drons, and asked why he should be carrying about a 
 handful of silver forks. 
 
 The tall footman, who had for the moment lost all 
 his fine reserve, tried somewhat ineffectually to draw 
 himself together, and explained he had been laying the 
 dinner-table when they called him away. 
 
 " Best lay down those forks ; Mr. Heythrop wouldn't 
 like it, you know," Major Koyle observed confidentially. 
 " This is his show, not mine," he explained rather 
 hastily to Blanche. 
 
 " Indeed it's not," cried Victoria. "It was all your 
 fault from beginning to end. You said it would be good 
 for the hens to have a run." 
 
 " I said that back yard was the very place for a hen- 
 run quite a different thing ! And I never knew the 
 garden gate was open." 
 
 " Stop that row, will you, Henry," exclaimed Miles, 
 who was himself making more noise than any one else. 
 
 " Let him alone ; he's doing his best," answered 
 Major Eoyle. 
 
 He knew he had made an easy conquest of Henry 
 and the lad from the stables, having a way of his own 
 with subordinates, so that he could always command 
 his men. The Hausas and Kroo boys had been devoted
 
 202 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 to him in just the same way, and it flattered his vanity 
 to see how quickly he could make his personality felt. 
 
 Henry retired upon the cucumber frames, to be 
 shortly joined by the groom. 
 
 " 'E's just about a nice gentleman, 'e is," remarked 
 the lad. They liked the way he treated them, with as 
 much goodwill as command, and Henry proceeded to 
 describe a photograph of the major he had seen in the 
 smoking-room, " with medals a-stretching from one to 
 t'other shoulder." He was not prepared to say but that 
 they went round to the back too ! 
 
 "Quiet now steady/ and we'll cop the whole lot. 
 Bear to the left, Miles, and don't let them through the 
 asparagus," Keppel commanded. 
 
 "Now then, Chick- a-biddy. Ware wire you infernal 
 fool ! " added Major Eoyle, as the flustered, frightened 
 brood was at length driven through the side gate. 
 
 Miles took up one last stone, a sharp flint, and sent 
 it spinning with all his force in the direction of the 
 gate. Blanche gave a sudden cry, and Keppel turned 
 back with all his heart in his eyes. 
 
 " My darlkig, what is it ?" he cried. He quite forgot 
 to hide how frightened he was and how much he cared. 
 
 " It's nothing," said Blanche ; but her face was as 
 white as a sheet. 
 
 " We shall all be late for dinner," shouted Miles 
 from the doorstep. He had flung the stone without 
 thinking, and never guessing there was any one behind 
 the slender screen of tendrils and leaves, had already 
 gone into the house. 
 
 " Are you going to faint ? " Keppel asked.
 
 SUNDAY 203 
 
 " I hope not," said Blanche ; " but I'd better sit 
 down. How silly you are ! " she added, and she smiled 
 at his frightened expression. 
 
 But that Blanche should be hurt seemed to Keppel un- 
 speakable, and he could scarcely take his eyes off her face. 
 
 " It's only my wrist. I wish you'd tie it up," she 
 said a little faintly. 
 
 And Keppel knelt down on one knee and took her 
 hand gently in his. 
 
 Then she wished she had not asked him ; his touch 
 made her heart beat so fast. 
 
 " Your colour is coming back," he said. 
 
 "I'm not faint now," she answered, for all her 
 faintness had gone. " You'll spoil your handkerchief," 
 she continued, trying hard to be practical. 
 
 " So many things have been spoilt in my life, that 
 don't much matter." 
 
 " I'll have it washed," Blanche persisted, ignoring 
 his misery. 
 
 " How fine your skin is ; why, it's bruised already ! 
 And what a ridiculously slender wrist," he murmured. 
 
 " It's stronger than you would think." 
 
 Mortimer Keppel sighed. " You're altogether stronger 
 than any one would think." 
 
 " That's just as well," she answered. 
 
 " Perhaps," he agreed doubtfully ; " but women ought 
 to be weak." 
 
 He knotted the handkerchief skilfully round her 
 wrist, and Blanche looked away. 
 
 " I'm glad you were by; no one else could have done 
 it half so well," she said with a little gasp.
 
 204 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 He looked at her anxiously. " Promise me to take 
 some brandy the minute you get into the house. I'll 
 send some up myself." 
 
 "Miles has some in a flask in his dressing-room," 
 she answered a little cruelly. 
 
 And Keppel got up from the ground and straightened 
 himself. 
 
 "Does it hurt?" he asked, folding his arms and 
 staring rather reproachfully at her face. 
 
 Blanche shook her head. " Physical things are so 
 much easier than mental." 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked. 
 
 Blanche looked up at him for a moment with a 
 sudden flash in her eyes. 
 
 " I'm rather glad Major Eoyle let the hens out," she 
 answered enigmatically. 
 
 Revealing an unexpected talent, Major Koyle took 
 to strumming plaintive little airs on the piano after 
 dinner that night. He sang most seriously the oddest 
 ditties to the plaintive airs, till his audience scarcely 
 knew whether they were meant to laugh or cry. 
 
 "Do you know the 'Courtship of the Yonghy- 
 Bonghy-B6' ? ' it always affects me so that I can scarcely 
 sing, but I'll do my best," he observed with a sigh. 
 
 " Two old chairs and half a candle, 
 One old jug without a handle ; 
 These were all his worldly goods, 
 In the middle of the woods. 
 
 " He was a younger son, I take it, but most awfully 
 in love," he explained, as he gently played an accom- 
 paniment in the saddest minor key.
 
 SUNDAY 205 
 
 The piteousness of the ridiculous tale somehow 
 appealed to Blanche. 
 
 " The Yonghy-Bonghy-B6' was such a gentleman," 
 she observed. 
 
 " I am tired of living singly ; if you'll come and be 
 my wife, quite serene would be my life," Keppel 
 responded softly, quoting the words of the song. 
 
 Major Eoyle still sang on, gazing down at the piano 
 with his prominent eyes, as though amazed that the 
 notes should produce so much melody. 
 
 " Lady Jingly answered sadly, 
 And her tears began to flow, 
 ' Your proposal comes too late, 
 Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-B6' ! 
 I would be your wife most gladly ! ' 
 (Here she twirled her fingers madly) 
 ' But in England I've a mate I 
 Yes ! you've asked me far too late.' " 
 
 But Mortimer listened no longer to the pathetic 
 story that still went on and on. 
 
 "You have such pretty brown hair, Blanche, but 
 you don't look very strong. No one would ever believe 
 you had such a lot of pluck." 
 
 He was sitting in a low chair so close to her side 
 that he spoke without raising his voice, and Blanche 
 put her hand up to her hair and smiled at his personal 
 remarks. 
 
 "But I'm not plucky; I'm really an arrant coward, 
 if you but knew." 
 
 " You've got such grit, my dear girl, that if you were 
 in trouble you could keep it all to yourself and never 
 complain. You wouldn't whine or cry out as other
 
 206 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 women do, and yet it would be a thousand times 
 worse." 
 
 " Don't say that, you frighten me. If that is really 
 my disposition, you make me afraid that much shall 
 be required of me. Now people who can't stand trouble 
 don't have it, or else they don't feel it it's really the 
 same thing." 
 
 He told her not to be superstitious, and quoted his 
 favourite maxim, that " fortune favours the brave." 
 
 " Were you always called Mortimer ? Had you no 
 shorter name?" she asked, by way of changing the 
 subject. 
 
 "They called me Morty when I was young my 
 mother did. You'd have liked her, Blanche ; she was 
 as straight as the day, and always my truest friend." 
 
 "I wish you'd show me her picture. Is it in that 
 locket ? " and she pointed to a tiny locket that hung on 
 his chain. 
 
 " I only carry one woman's picture about with me, 
 and it isn't my mother's," he answered briefly. 
 
 "A hundred to one is too good a chance to be 
 missed," exclaimed Miles in his strident tones ; he was 
 explaining the science of the turf to Victoria. 
 
 " Take, oh take your chair and candle, 
 And your jug without a handle ; 
 I can merely be your friend," 
 
 the major sang on, growing sadder and ever more sad. 
 
 Blanche never afterwards heard the queer little song 
 without thinking of the week-end Mortimer Keppel spent 
 with them that summer at Saffery Lodge.
 
 MONDAY MORNING 
 
 I THINK of all thou art to me, 
 I dream of what thou canst not be ; 
 My life is curst with thoughts of thee 
 For Ever and For Ever ! 
 
 Perchance if we had never met 
 I had been spared this mad regret, 
 This endless striving to forget, 
 For Ever and For Ever. 
 
 Ah, leave me not ! I love but thee ! 
 Blessing or curse, which e'er thou be, 
 Oh ! be as thou hast been to me, 
 For Ever and For Ever ! 
 
 VIOLET FAKE
 
 MONDAY MORNING 
 
 Saffery Lodge. 
 
 VICTOEIA'S maid came to the door while 
 Blanche was dressing next morning, to 
 ask if she could come for a minute to Miss 
 Eaton's room. 
 
 " Is she ill ? " Blanche asked ; but the maid did not 
 think so. 
 
 Victoria was sitting by the dressing-table with a 
 cloud of yellow hair all round her shoulders. 
 
 " How good of you to come ! Do you mind ? I was 
 so afraid of meeting people. Major Eoyle seems to spend 
 all his time walking up and down the passages." 
 
 " I met him as I came along, and he called out 
 at once, ' If you don't look at me, I won't look at you.' 
 So I told him I was clothed and in my right mind 
 he'll be late for breakfast unless he hurries up. But 
 what is it, Victoria ? Is anything wrong ? " 
 
 Victoria, pouting and frowning, pushed a letter 
 towards her. 
 
 "Do read that and tell me what you think," she 
 answered, as she watched Blanche's face. 
 
 The letter was from Lord Inchgarvie, and Blanche 
 drew a chair up to the dressing-table.
 
 210 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " Inchgarvie Castle, N.B. 
 "Mi* DEAR VICTORIA, 
 
 " I am afraid I must have seemed very rude 
 when I left you so suddenly last Thursday, but I was too 
 miserable to explain. I should not bother you now I 
 don't suppose my affairs can interest you but I had just 
 had a wire to say Kirstie, my dear old nurse, was dying, 
 and I could think of nothing else. I got up just in time. 
 She knew I would come, but the doctor told them she 
 would not die till I came. These old Highland servants 
 have such kind hearts ; I can't tell you how glad I was 
 I had not come too late. I sat with her all evening and 
 held my darling's hand to the end. Forgive me being 
 very foolish, but an old friend like that is as dear as 
 one's own flesh and blood. Mortimer Keppel knew her ; 
 he has a shooting at Easter Garvie, and often stopped 
 at her cottage for tea. You will think me a driveller, 
 but I'm not self-sufficient like some men, and I should 
 have loved to have you for my friend. She is to be 
 buried on the island, close beside the family; the 
 funeral will be very simple, and she will be rowed over 
 only by men of the clan. I can think of nothing but 
 Kirstie, so will stop now, as I know you get so easily 
 bored. 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " INCHGARVIE." 
 
 He had scrawled yet another sentence at the foot of 
 the page, and Blanche, who did not often cry, read it 
 with tears in her eyes. 
 
 " I told her about you, and how pretty you were. I
 
 MONDAY MOENING 211 
 
 thought you would not mind, for it made her die so 
 happy." 
 
 " Poor Inchgarvie ! " exclaimed Blanche. " Oh, 
 Victoria, how blind you are ! You said yesterday you 
 did not understand what love was ; don't you understand 
 it now?" 
 
 She read the letter over again as she spoke, more 
 especially the part mentioning Mortimer Keppel. She 
 liked the way Lord Inchgarvie had brought him in, 
 feeling sure Mortimer would justify any one's choice of 
 friends. 
 
 "I don't know what to do," Victoria objected. "It 
 would be an odd thing if I began to like Inchgarvie 
 after all." 
 
 Every one appeared to be going to sea that morning. 
 It was Cowes Week, and most of them were going over to 
 the island. 
 
 " Very civil of the old man to ask us, Blanche ; he's 
 usually such a dog in the manger about the yacht ; but 
 he might have given us a bit longer notice," said Miles, 
 as he tossed a letter across the breakfast-table to his 
 wife. 
 
 " He's never missed asking us for Cowes Week since 
 we've been married, and never asked us till the very 
 last minute yet," Blanche observed dryly. 
 
 " Hates having anything taken for granted, I suppose. 
 Lots of parents are like that," said Major Eoyle. 
 
 " What's all that about meeting us at Totton ? I can 
 never read his writing. Why the deuce can't we join the 
 yacht at Southampton ? " continued Miles.
 
 
 212 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " He wants us to come on by the slow train. Then 
 we can't take the express ; what a nuisance ! " exclaimed 
 Blanche, still trying to decipher her father-in-law's hand- 
 writing. 
 
 " Confound my blessed father ! there's no necessity 
 for him to meet us at all ; but that's the old man all 
 over. He has patience for nothing he'd have been dead 
 long ago if he'd only had a little patience and the run 
 out to Totton will just fill up his time." 
 
 " I'm going to Scotland," said Keppel ; " that's to say, 
 if I can get to town in time to catch the lunch train from 
 St. Pancras." 
 
 "We're all going on Christopher Cobb's new yacht; 
 it's as big as a liner, Eddy says," Victoria remarked. 
 
 " You are, are you ? " cried Major Eoyle. " I'll wave 
 to you, then. My boat's the Skim Milk." 
 
 "It doesn't sound much in your line." 
 
 " She's not a liner, if you mean that ! I wanted 
 them to call her the Cocktail, but my sister said it sounded 
 profane. The boat's theirs, not mine, you know." 
 
 " Train's due to arrive at 11.15, sir," said the butler, 
 at Miles's elbow. 
 
 " Hold on, Wellwood ; wait a bit. Is the major to 
 take a dock ticket, or get out at the West Station ? And 
 wouldn't Mr. Keppel be better to go north from Euston ? " 
 
 ''Depends where the yacht is a-layin', sir," Well- 
 wood replied. 
 
 " Any more tender questions we could ask Well- 
 wood ? " Major Eoyle asked softly, as Wellwood did 
 what he could to preserve an inflexible countenance. 
 
 " I say, Pioyle, why can't you come on with us ? We
 
 MONDAY MOKNING 213 
 
 shan't be much behind the express, and I'd like you to 
 meet my father. You might sell him your car ; he has 
 a scheme of buying up all he can to keep them from 
 frightening his carriage horses." 
 
 " I feel a bit nervous about your dear father ; I'm 
 naturally a very timid man." 
 
 Blanche smiled. " Then you are never your natural 
 self ! As to my father-in-law, you'll find him a lamb ; 
 he only shows his claws in the bosom of his family. 
 Shall you be a nice party in the Skim Milk ? I 
 forget who are to be there." 
 
 " That depends," said Major Koyle, " whether you 
 are a mother or a single man. My sister has dozens of 
 children, mostly flabby, dabby infants who yell. There's 
 a medium in all things, and I told my sister so." 
 
 " What did she say ?" Blanche asked. 
 
 " She said I was heartless, and didn't understand a 
 mother's feelings. You can't argue with a woman who 
 says she's a mother, it always makes me shy." 
 
 " I hope I shall get on all right with my dear father ? " 
 Miles remarked, a little apprehensively. " You'll have 
 to keep the peace, Blanche." 
 
 " I wish I had a wife like that," sighed Major Koyle. 
 " I'm good enough at fighting, but I'm no good at making 
 it up." 
 
 " Why don't you marry ? " Blanche suggested. 
 
 " Ask Keppel, he's more reason than I. He ought 
 to have been married long ago." 
 
 "Why don't you, Mortimer?" said Blanche. To 
 hesitate for a moment would have been fatal, but even 
 so, she felt her colour rise.
 
 214 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " I should require just the same sort of wife as Eoyle 
 wants, and Miles seems to have cut us both out," Mortimer 
 replied with courtly gravity ; and Blanche breathed freely 
 again, while Miles looked across the table at his wife 
 with the complacent air of a man who has got what 
 every one else wants. 
 
 Blanche had many things to think of that morning, 
 and the countless questions and objections Miles raised 
 at every turn, only served to confuse her further. 
 
 " I don't believe you're thinking of what I'm saying," 
 Miles exclaimed at last. 
 
 " Indeed I am," cried Blanche, who was thinking 
 only of Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 It was a most lovely morning, with sleepy clouds 
 on the horizon, deep blue sky up above, and dazzling 
 sunshine everywhere. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't go away ! " she said weakly, 
 as Mortimer came over to her from the booking-office. 
 
 " Come with me to Scotland," he answered recklessly. 
 
 Major Boyle, arrayed in a faultless yachting costume, 
 was peering at his reflection in one of the waiting-room 
 windows. 
 
 " Looks smarter tipped a bit to the side," he mur- 
 mured, as he shifted his cap. " Here, Miss Eaton, mind 
 you don't forget to wave ; I shall be very much hurt if 
 you don't ; and I hope you'll remember me next time 
 we meet." 
 
 But Keppel had drawn Victoria aside, and was 
 speaking to her earnestly, as he leant on his stick 
 further down the platform.
 
 MONDAY MOENING 215 
 
 " I shall see Inchgarvie to-morrow. I've had a letter 
 from him, and he's awfully cut up about the death of a 
 poor old friend. But perhaps you know ? " 
 
 Victoria nodded rather uncomfortably; she was 
 always a little afraid of Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 ''You will forgive me, I know, but I was wondering 
 if you would like to send him a message. He said he 
 would drive down to Garvie and meet me at the 
 station." 
 
 " I don't know what to send in the least ; it's bad 
 enough to speak, but it's much worse sending messages. 
 And I don't want to be rushed into matrimony, and it 
 isn't fair of every one to worry me so. I'm sure you 
 think me a fool ; but I really can't help it, if you do." 
 
 " I think much too highly of Inchgarvie to want him 
 to marry a fool. As a matter of fact, I want him to 
 marry you, and was wondering if you knew what an 
 uncommonly good sort he is." 
 
 "You all seem bent on cracking him up ; Blanche is 
 just the same. I can't think why some one doesn't go 
 to him and tell him things about me for a change." 
 
 " I shall tell him lots of things about you to-morrow ; 
 he will want to listen to nothing else." 
 
 " I suppose it must be all right, if you and Blanche 
 say so. You know more about marriage than I do ; but 
 you wouldn't marry yourself, unless you were in love, 
 would you now?" 
 
 " Aren't you in love ? I always made sure you were ! " 
 
 Victoria blushed crimson, which annoyed her ex- 
 tremely ; she always felt so childishly young when she 
 spoke to Keppel.
 
 216 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " But if you were in love, then I suppose you would 
 marry ? " she persisted, having got a little confused, 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Mortimer, with a deep sigh, " I 
 should have thought I was past that sort of thing." 
 
 " I don't believe it," Victoria answered. 
 
 Mortimer bowed. " I don't believe it either," he 
 answered. Then he asked her again if she had any 
 message to send. 
 
 " What are the things you will tell Lord Inchgarvie 
 about me, I mean ? " she asked, in a manner that was 
 intended to be off-hand. 
 
 " Victoria looked charming in pale blue, and sent 
 you her dear love that's about what I shall say." 
 
 " Oh, but what a story ! " she exclaimed ; " I haven't 
 had a single blue dress this season. You'd better be 
 more careful what you say; Lord Inchgarvie knows 
 more about my frocks than you do, and I shan't send 
 my love in any case. I shall send no message at all." 
 
 " That's very unkind," said Keppel, severely. 
 
 But Victoria was unfastening a tiny diamond heart 
 that hung on a little chain round her neck. 
 
 " You can give him this," she said, as indifferently 
 as she could. 
 
 "Yes?" answered Keppel, ignoring her confusion, 
 as he held the little trinket on the palm of his hand. 
 
 " And tell him to bury it right over Kirstie's grave 
 on the island he will understand." She turned away 
 abruptly, and Mortimer put the trinket in his pocket. 
 
 " My dear," cried Miles, " have you remembered 
 everything ? You know what my memory is."
 
 MONDAY MORNING 217 
 
 Blanche was carrying a large bouquet of pink roses. 
 " I seem to have remembered nothing but these ; I 
 thought your father would like some." 
 
 "Aren't those the roses Angela made such a fuss 
 about ? I wish you'd give me some for her ; she'll be 
 with the Batons, you know," Miles explained; and 
 Blanche obediently halved her bouquet. 
 
 " Here's a lot about the running of Childe Harold," 
 cried Major Eoyle, joining them with a bundle of sport- 
 ing papers under his arm. 
 
 Miles was immediately engrossed with the latest 
 racing intelligence, and Blanche and Mortimer, both 
 praying the express might be late, walked far down to 
 the quiet end of the long platform. 
 
 " I asked you just now not to go away, but I've 
 changed my mind; I think it would be better if you 
 did go for a time at least, then it would be easier 
 perhaps." 
 
 " What would be easier ? " 
 
 " I don't want to see your face or hear your voice ; it 
 would be easier if I didn't." 
 
 " I'd shoot myself dead to oblige you, but I can't live 
 if we're never to meet." 
 
 Blanche bit her under lip. " I wish I could forget 
 you, dear." 
 
 " It would break my heart if you did ; you're the 
 whole of earth to me and all heaven." 
 
 " If I only liked your voice, or only liked you for your 
 looks, it would be different." 
 
 "Why not say love, dearest? I hate people who 
 like me."
 
 218 THE HEYTHROPS' WEEK-END 
 
 " When we are together I get to feel nothing in the 
 world matters but you." 
 
 " That's how Eve felt in Paradise." 
 
 " Don't interrupt, dear ; it's not how people should 
 feel in this wicked world. But when I am away from 
 you, then I begin to remember there are lots of other 
 things that matter too ; that's why I want you to stop 
 away. I hate to ask, it seems so silly ; but I'm sure it 
 would be better if you did." 
 
 Mortimer looked down at her quivering mouth. To 
 love and be loved by Blanche Heythrop was like resting 
 on a rock ; and though he was sore, a great security 
 filled his heart. 
 
 " People at stations who say good-bye occasionally 
 kiss each other, Blanche ! " 
 
 " Not at this station ! " she answered hurriedly. 
 " Oh, Mortimer, you are being most unkind ! " 
 
 " Forgive me, dear heart," he begged, as he tossed 
 away his cigarette. 
 
 " Don't be kind, that's even worse, and don't ask 
 me to be reasonable. But it would be better, wouldn't 
 it ? I have to think of others. And what should we 
 gain by meeting ? " 
 
 " What should we gain by not meeting ? " he 
 answered doggedly. But Blanche's lip had begun to 
 quiver again. " Of course I'll keep away, at least for a 
 bit ; I promise nothing more. I'd as soon stop in Scot- 
 land all autumn as anywhere else ; but you must write, 
 Blanche. I shall send you a brace of grouse three times 
 a week, so mind you acknowledge them all. I always 
 carry your last letter in my pocket, just here," he
 
 MONDAY MOENING 219 
 
 added, pressing the region of his heart. "And -write 
 only about yourself ; I don't care a hang about general 
 news." 
 
 Blanche promised. "Only don't stop away too 
 long!" she pleaded, suddenly scared by the result of 
 her own plan. 
 
 " You may trust me, Blanche," he said. 
 And Blanche answered gently that she always did ; 
 the redeeming point about the whole friendship was 
 that she could trust Keppel. 
 
 "I want to have a week-end party at Charlton 
 Dammerel when my tenant's time is up ; would that be 
 long enough ? My idea was to have you and Miles, and 
 all the rest, of course, and for you to act hostess. Would 
 you, dear ? " 
 
 "I never thought of that!" she exclaimed. Then 
 she looked down the gleaming railway line, and all the 
 radiance died out of her face. 
 
 " Here comes the train," he said bitterly, as he shut 
 his watch with a snap. 
 
 Keppel was a man who never caught a train by 
 hurrying, and never lost one by taking his own time ; 
 but Miles met them breathless. 
 
 " Hullo, Keppel, haven't you taken a Pullman 
 ticket ? I see the Eatons are there and Angela ; I 
 shall have time to speak to them, if you don't mind ? 
 Awfully glad to have seen you ; hope you'll come again. 
 Blanche, my dear, will you stop and see him off ? " 
 
 When Keppel made a plan, no matter how small, he 
 was in the habit of carrying it off, and he smiled to 
 himself as he leant out of the window. He knew the
 
 220 THE HEYTHEOPS' WEEK-END 
 
 Castle Loftus people would be in the Pullman, he knew 
 Miles and Major Royle would rush to speak, and trusted 
 to Blanche remaining behind, and it had all fallen out 
 just as he wished. 
 
 "Thanks, Mrs. Heythrop, for a charming visit; I 
 can't tell you how I've enjoyed myself. I wish you'd 
 give me a rose. I shall never see pink roses without 
 thinking of you." 
 
 " Shall you think of me when you are in Scotland ? " 
 she asked absently, as she rearranged the roses in her 
 hand. 
 
 " I shall think of you in the hat you wore at the 
 Sloanes' party, but I shall think of you oftenest kissing 
 me in the wood." 
 
 " How can you get up so much interest in an old 
 married woman ? " 
 
 " Who you are or what you are is all one to me I 
 take no interest in any one else." 
 
 "I'm glad you were able to come," she responded, 
 looking at anything but his face. 
 
 " We shall meet again at Charlton." Then he leant 
 a little further out of the window. " By Jove, Blanche, 
 what a good time we shall have ! Let us arrange to 
 meet in town the Thursday before, and I'll take you for 
 a walk in the Park. It will be winter, and early dark, 
 but we'll walk right on till the lamps come out. 
 Heavens, dear love, how we shall talk ! " 
 
 " Just time to say good-bye," cried Miles, rejoining 
 them unexpectedly. " We shall have a topping time at 
 Cowes, Blanche ; Angela is to be in the Cobb's yacht all 
 the week."
 
 MONDAY MOKNING 221 
 
 Then the train moved away, and Blanche caught a 
 last glimpse of Mortimer's grave, sorrowful face. She 
 could have cried aloud, but she began rearranging the 
 roses instead, while Miles explained how pleased and 
 delighted Angela had been with the flowers. 
 
 " She thought it so good of me to remember it was 
 pink roses she liked ; and of course I did not tell her 
 they were really yours." 
 
 " Of course not ! " agreed Blanche. 
 But she loathed the pink roses just then ; she would 
 much rather they had been dead leaves blowing about 
 the wintry park. But winter seemed a lifetime away, 
 and still further the dusky afternoon when she and 
 Mortimer were once more to meet again. 
 
 " Angela is all in white ; we shall see her at the 
 Squadron Gardens this evening," continued Miles ; he 
 was much too full of his own exuberance to notice any 
 want of response about Blanche. 
 
 While Major Koyle, who was more than half in love 
 with Victoria, was equally occupied with his own state 
 of mind, and only longed to get rid of Miles so that he 
 might confide in Blanche. He would like at least to 
 ask her if she thought he had any chance. Not that it 
 really signified, but Victoria was a devilish pretty girl 
 and no mistake.
 
 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 FOR the strife of Love's the abysmal strife, 
 And the Word of Love is the Word of Life. 
 
 And they that go with the Word unsaid, 
 
 Though they seem of the living, are damned and dead. 
 
 W. E. HENLEY.
 
 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S 
 WEEK-END 
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 
 
 Charlton Dammerel. 
 
 BLANCHE and Miles were driving along West- 
 minster Bridge in a hansom one afternoon 
 the following winter ; they were to meet the 
 rest of the party at the station. Mortimer 
 Keppel had arranged for them all to travel down to 
 Charlton Dammerel together. The Heythrops were 
 half afraid they were late : Blanche had waited for 
 Miles, and Miles had kept her till the last minute, 
 many blocks in the traffic delaying them still further ; 
 Miles grew more and more impatient at every check, 
 whereas Blanche grew calmer and calmer, though 
 missing the train would mean more to her than to any 
 one else, except Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 " We shall lose the train to a certainty. This old 
 screw is only fit to he shot. What did you say the time 
 was ? my watch is slow." 
 
 " It was ten-to by Big Ben ; I think we shall just do 
 it," Blanche answered in a soothing tone. 
 
 p 2
 
 228 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I wish I had seen Keppel yesterday when he called. 
 Where did he take you to ? " 
 
 " We went across the Park right up to the Kensing- 
 ton end." 
 
 " I never can understand that craze for walking 
 Keppel's quite as bad about it as you. What was he 
 saying any news ? " 
 
 " He said I was the only person he had ever met who 
 had time to go for a walk in London, and he told me he 
 had seen you at the Sunsuttons'." 
 
 "Angela always declares she can't get on with 
 Mortimer never knows what to say. I wonder why 
 that should be ? She ripples on for ever when she's 
 talking to me," Miles replied, rather proud of the fact. 
 
 " I never find any difficulty," Blanche said, smiling 
 to herself absently. 
 
 "He's not very easy to know intimately that's 
 about what it is. I doubt if I should ever have known 
 him so well as I do if you had not been so friendly 
 also. I am glad you're going to help him through ; he 
 told me there was no other woman he would have cared 
 to ask." 
 
 The choice reflected credit on himself, Miles thought 
 he was glad no other man's wife had been asked to 
 assist the fastidious Keppel ; but Blanche was a little 
 upset, and anxious to divert his mind. 
 
 "Let me put your tie straight," she said. "Why 
 don't you always wear black-and-white ties ? They are 
 much the most becoming, I think." 
 
 " Do you ? " Miles answered, trying to peep into the 
 small mirror in the hansom. "Confound the thing! *'
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 229 
 
 he exclaimed, as just at that instant they turned into a 
 dark subway. 
 
 " Out of the shadow of night the world rolls into 
 light," Blanche murmured to herself; but Miles con- 
 tinued to fume 
 
 " And what a ridiculous approach to one of the most 
 important stations ! Why can't they build on the level, 
 and not give these poor beasts such a gradient at the 
 very end of the course ? " 
 
 "Did you hear what Welcome did the other day 
 when he missed the train ? He took a special. He says 
 he always does it when he loses a train to reassure his 
 creditors." 
 
 "They say he's in Queer Street," Miles answered, 
 as he sprang out and began shouting aloud for a 
 porter. 
 
 The station was crowded with the usual crowd of 
 hurried, flustered folk, and noisy with the usual din and 
 uproar of a great terminus; everything was dull and 
 drab and grey, but for the signal boards and the great 
 green engines; a heavy veil of blackened mist only 
 serving to make the scene more sombre. But the place 
 might have been Paradise and the bustling throng a 
 cloud of angels to Blanche as she hastened along ; she 
 looked everywhere for Keppel, and halfway up the 
 platform recognized him at last a tall thin man in a 
 long overcoat, gazing at the people with cold, pre- 
 occupied eyes, till suddenly they met her own. Keppel 
 had always said there was a peculiar charm about 
 Blanche's smile; he said it to himself again, as she 
 came towards him with an ineffable light in her eyes.
 
 230 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 "Do go on smiling, Blanche; I have never seen 
 any one smile like you," he said. 
 
 "Do be quiet, Mr. Keppel, and tell me how we are 
 to travel. Miles is in a dreadful way, he thinks we have 
 lost the train." 
 
 But she did go on smiling she could not help it, 
 nor did she much mind if they lost every train in 
 England. The moment was, however, short-lived. 
 
 " Hullo, Mrs. Heythrop," cried Wellington Guest, 
 joining them, " I've just met Miles getting tickets never 
 was so surprised in my life ; he usually turns up by the 
 last train with all the mystery and fuss of a budding 
 millionaire." 
 
 " I wish Miles was as rich as his friends seem to 
 think he is," Blanche answered; her face was still 
 wreathed in smiles, and Wellington looked at her again ; 
 he was always keenly observant. 
 
 " Damned good-looking woman, Mrs. Heythrop ; 
 these rich men have all the luck," he muttered under 
 his breath. 
 
 Miles' punctuality was without precedent, and 
 created quite a sensation, every one crowding round 
 as he came up. 
 
 " Are you escaping from your creditors, or trying to 
 establish an alibi ? " asked Major Boyle, who also stood 
 by, smoking cigarettes up till the last moment. 
 
 " Is it a practical joke ? " Mrs. Eddy Eaton said. 
 
 While Wellington Guest joined the chorus. " Unex- 
 pected apparition of the late Mr. Heythrop ! " 
 
 " Better late than too early ; I'd have been kept wait- 
 ing in this pandemonium for hours if I had started when
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 231 
 
 Blanche wanted me to," protested Miles, always glad to 
 point a moral, more especially when he could point it at 
 his wife. 
 
 Only Victoria remained silent, much too depressed by 
 Lord Inchgarvie's jubilant appearance to join in any 
 careless mirth. They were engaged to each other now, 
 and the marriage was to so shortly take place that she 
 had been obliged to agree to his rather wistful proposal 
 that they might travel down in a carriage to themselves. 
 Something must be conceded to the objectionable posi- 
 tion ; but she determined to revenge herself on circum- 
 stances by being as disagreeable as she possibly could. 
 
 " We're all here now, aren't we ? " Mortimer asked. 
 
 " All except Eddy," Mrs. Eddy Eaton replied, as she 
 went on to explain a command that cancelled all other 
 engagements kept him in town that night ; he would, 
 however, join them early next morning. 
 
 Wellington Guest, being anxious to secure a seat 
 next the Duchess of Sunsutton, sprang hastily into the 
 carriage. 
 
 " If some of you good people would kindly hurry up, 
 we would be able to shut the door," he remarked. 
 
 " How is it that every one who passes this carriage 
 looks in?" asked the duchess, as he secured the coveted 
 seat by her side. 
 
 " Can you ask when you are looking out ! " he 
 answered. 
 
 But the irresistible Angela was so completely fasci- 
 nated by the undreamt-of presence of Miles, she had 
 eyes for no one else. 
 
 " Who would have thought of ever seeing you before
 
 232 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 the soup ! Do come here, Miles, I want to ask you a 
 hundred things," she cried. 
 
 She made a charming picture as she leant out of the 
 carriage window, with sables up to her shapely chin, 
 and a hat like a huge pink rhododendron blossom rest- 
 ing on her beautiful hair. Miles Heythrop did not need 
 to be bidden twice. 
 
 Only a moment before Major Eoyle had gone to help 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton fix her window it would not open and 
 she wanted air. The carriage was therefore full, and 
 when the guard blew his whistle there was no time to 
 make any alteration. 
 
 " Where are you, Blanche ? I thought you were here," 
 cried Miles, fearful he might yet have to forfeit his seat. 
 
 " All right, stop where you are," answered Mortimer ; 
 "we can find room in the next carriage." 
 
 He helped Blanche in as he spoke, and springing in 
 after her, took his place in the opposite corner, trying 
 to conceal what a great fire such a small matter could 
 kindle. Blanche leant back breathlessly against the 
 cushions as the train slipped out of the noisy station. 
 She drew her furs around her and looked out of the 
 carriage window at all the blackened house-tops and all 
 the chimneys and smoke ; the light that never was, made 
 even this dreary prospect radiant, and she saw only soft 
 silvery shadows, melting before long into a rosy mist as 
 they quickly gained the open country. 
 
 They were not alone, the train was crowded, and 
 the three other occupants of the carriage stared for a 
 moment at the new-comers. It was most foolish to wait 
 till the last moment before getting into a train most
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 233 
 
 foolish ! the old man with his back to the engine thought 
 to himself, only wishing he could state his disapproval 
 openly. The short-sighted lady, who was working out 
 accounts on a small slip of paper on the back of her 
 purse, also looked up for a moment man and wife, she 
 concluded in somewhat short-sighted fashion. Only the 
 schoolboy, who was reading detective stories in a paper- 
 covered book, showed any intelligence, and he wondered, 
 as he glanced at Blanche, if all women smiled at all 
 men as she smiled at Keppel revolving which question, 
 he glanced at her again, wishing, as he did so, he were 
 many years older. But at different stations these three 
 left the train, and Blanche and Mortimer were at length 
 alone. 
 
 " How fast we are going ! " she said. 
 
 " The quickest part of the journey is from Basing- 
 stoke it's all downhill from there," he responded. 
 Neither of them quite knew what they were saying. 
 
 When the train stopped at Basingstoke Miles 
 hurried up with much compunction and all the evening 
 papers. 
 
 " So sorry, Blanche ; I never noticed I had left you 
 on the platform. The station was so crowded, and Angela 
 put everything else out of my head." 
 
 Miles was not an imaginative man and never traced 
 an effect back to a cause. As he stood on the platform 
 chatting to his wife, he supposed her eyes must be the 
 same as usual, and that she always had that pretty pink 
 colour in her face ; it was so pretty that he felt for a 
 moment half inclined to desert the cheery party next 
 door and go on instead with Blanche and Keppel, and
 
 234 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 he wondered he had not noticed it before. Blanche 
 could never have interested him in the way she did if 
 he had comprehended her; he would quickly have 
 despised a woman he had been able to read like a 
 book. He thought of Angela and Mrs. Eddy, and once 
 more congratulated himself he had married Blanche ; a 
 woman like Blanche was worth hundreds of the others 
 to have as a permanency in a man's house leastways. If 
 his feeling had been only love, he would have tired of her 
 long ago ; but the wife who still interests her husband 
 can have little to fear. He looked at her again, then he 
 reflected, with the impartiality of a second thought, that 
 his wife may be had any day of a man's life ; whereas a 
 friend, like Angela the divine, must of necessity be only 
 an interlude. 
 
 "Too old at forty !" Blanche read out from one of 
 the papers. " What a funny idea ! We had all best 
 enjoy ourselves while we can, then." 
 
 " One needs a lot of pleasure in one's life," Miles 
 responded gravely. "No need to squander it, all the 
 same," he added, as, determining to be economical when 
 he could, he left his wife and returned hastily to the 
 duchess. 
 
 " How young I feel ! " said Mortimer. " They fill 
 those papers with humbug." 
 
 " You're not half so young as you look. How is it 
 your hair never grows grey ? " 
 
 " I have no wife to hustle my life, and I don't put 
 on flesh ; those are the things that age a man." 
 
 " They haven't aged Miles." 
 
 "Ah, but Miles's wife is a woman in a thousand!
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 235 
 
 Men who look young are always happily married : didn't 
 you know that ? " 
 
 Blanche pondered for a moment. " And what about 
 a woman ? " 
 
 " A woman who is in love never grows old." 
 
 She laughed lightly. " What blank lives most 
 women must lead ! I know so many who look more 
 than their age ! " 
 
 " ' Change and decay in all around I see ; thou 
 
 who changest not ' ' But Blanche prevented him 
 
 going further. " I'm only quoting, there's no harm in 
 that ; and it's quite true, you haven't changed an atom 
 since the first day I saw you you must be in love, my 
 dear." 
 
 " My views have changed a lot, I know they have." 
 
 " You have now learnt that a friendship betwixt a 
 man and a woman is the very spice of life ; having like- 
 wise taught yourself, for you never learnt it from me, 
 that you can't run away with every man you love." 
 
 " The man I love would never ask me to." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that. The woman tempted me 
 and we did run! Can't say what I might do with a 
 little encouragement. If I weren't your friend, and if 
 you hadn't married Miles, I believe you would have 
 been a downright prude." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so," Blanche answered 
 dryly. "Bunning away with one man because you've 
 had too much of another, always seems to me a case of 
 out of the frying-pan into the fire." 
 
 " Depends entirely whether the fire is going out or 
 only just lit some fires burn for ever."
 
 236 MOETIMEK KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 Blanche shook her head. " Very much wiser, then, 
 to keep the frying-pan between ! " 
 
 "You'll never get an old flame to agree to that. 
 You're material-minded, Blanche, that's what it is." 
 
 " I adore comforts, if you mean that ; all my tastes 
 are expensive, they always were." 
 
 "So are mine," he agreed; "we really suit one 
 another admirably." Then he changed his tone. " You 
 never tell me much about your life, you leave me to 
 guess it all." 
 
 " It's a very ordinary life, but in many ways it's 
 exactly the one I would choose." 
 
 " You expect so little most people demand so much ; 
 and you never ask for more." 
 
 This aspect had never occurred to Blanche, and she 
 looked out of the window for a minute. 
 
 "I expect daily bread, and I certainly believe in 
 happiness," she began slowly. 
 
 "Go on; I should like to hear your confession of 
 faith." 
 
 "I don't mean passive happiness either, though I 
 believe in that too. Have you ever felt that you could 
 be happier than you have ever been, and in quite a 
 different way ? " 
 
 Mortimer thought of his lonely hearth, then he 
 looked across at Blanche. 
 
 " Much happier," he answered briefly. 
 
 " Well, that's the sort of happiness very few people 
 ever experience. Very few people can feel it, and if 
 they do, it never lasts long, something is sure to bring 
 it to an end."
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 237 
 
 " Don't at all see the force of that ! You're getting 
 morbid, dear, or else you're over-tired. Depend upon it, 
 we walked too much yesterday, but the Park seemed so 
 easy after the moors, I forgot how far we had gone." 
 
 Blanche sighed. " I often think we've gone too far, 
 but it is so difficult to lay down rules." 
 
 " We might have taken a hansom," he said, still 
 worrying about his want of thought. 
 
 Blanche burst out laughing; Mortimer's methods 
 were always so straightforward. 
 
 But the time was getting short and there was much 
 to say. 
 
 " I want to ask your advice," he began he always 
 asked her advice about everything. " Would you advise 
 me to put the servants at Charlton on board wages, 
 even when I am in the house ? I believe it saves a 
 deal of trouble." 
 
 He also wanted to know if he should buy the Times' 
 "History of the War," and how Inchgarvie would get 
 on with that pretty little fool? Did she mind him 
 smoking? And would she tell him if Angela was on 
 terms with the head of the ducal house ? He had some- 
 thing to tell her about Sybil Eaton he thought she 
 ought to know, and as he explained, she noted again, as 
 she had often done before, what a delicate way he had 
 of discussing delicate matters. He had all his plans for 
 the future to unfold, and on much of the past they were 
 both ready enough to dwell. No train goes so fast as 
 the train that might well linger, and Blanche began to 
 count the landmarks with a jealous eye. 
 
 The afternoon was heavy and grey ; winter was not
 
 238 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 yet over, and spring had not yet begun to transform 
 the earth ; but the Glastonbury thorn that flowers at 
 Christmas was never more rosy-red than the bare trees 
 and hedges seemed to Blanche's happy eyes, and certain 
 parts of the country became so identified with their con- 
 versation that she never passed them again without 
 thinking of Keppel. He was speaking about the way 
 she smiled as they passed the clump of yew trees in the 
 hedge ; he was discussing old flames when they sped 
 along the high embankment with the old water-mill 
 down below. Further on they came to the sweeping 
 downs that would be corn-fields in the autumn, and 
 where the day-labourers, toiling in the distance, looked 
 no larger than pigmies. 
 
 " This land was all put under cultivation at the time 
 of the Crimea," said Blanche, as an item likely to divert 
 Mortimer's mind from a too close investigation of her 
 private life. 
 
 " That hill on the horizon stands just outside Salis- 
 bury; you would never think it lay in that direction, 
 would you ? " he responded, with a passing twinkle in 
 his serious eyes. 
 
 They both grew silent, however, as they came to the 
 last tunnel; in a few more moments the salt air was 
 coming in at the open window, and the train stopped at 
 Southampton. 
 
 " I believe the tide is always out here ! " exclaimed 
 Blanche, as she stood up. 
 
 " There's the Japanese warship. Can you see her 
 lights ? " answered Keppel, proceeding to help her out. 
 
 The evening was clear, and the air deliciously soft,
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 239 
 
 Long black shadows lay on the empty harbour, with 
 pools of water gleaming every here and there. Blanche 
 took a long breath and looked round for Victoria. 
 
 Keleased from the thraldom of a long tete-a-tete 
 journey, Victoria shook herself free from Lord Inch- 
 garvie at last ; leaving him to collect all her belongings, 
 she sprang on to the platform and met Keppel. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Keppel, why did you choose such a slow 
 train? I thought the journey would never end," she 
 cried. 
 
 " That's odd now," he answered ; " you're the only 
 person who found out it was the slow train ! " 
 
 " The others were enjoying themselves, I dare say ; 
 it's more than I was doing." 
 
 " Tut, tut ! you engaged people beat me. Here's 
 Mrs. Heythrop ; she'll tell you how to be happy though 
 married, I am sure," and Mortimer hastened on. 
 
 " No one can be happy who is married against their 
 will, and you'll never teach me that, Blanche. Did the 
 journey seem long to you ? I thought that beastly train 
 would never stop, and Sandie has got on my nerves." 
 
 Blanche took her arm and drew her gently along 
 the platform, while Alexander Edward Garvie, Earl of 
 Inchgarvie and Baron Tillicoultry, tenderly packed his 
 fiancees dressing-case, kissing each article separately 
 before he put it in. 
 
 " Mortimer fixed the trains ; I don't know why he 
 didn't choose the express," said Blanche. 
 
 "People are so selfish; I don't suppose he ever thought 
 how dull it would be for me. First, I said I wanted to 
 read Eddy's speech in the House last night ; but Sandie
 
 240 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 knows I can't read speeches, so he saw through that. 
 Then I said I was tired and wanted to go to sleep ; but 
 he kept fussing and worrying so, I soon found it was 
 less trouble to keep awake. How long does a man go 
 on being in love after he is married, I mean ? I wish 
 you'd tell me that, Blanche." 
 
 " I'll ask Miles ; he will be sure to know." 
 
 But Victoria would listen to nothing. " You're not 
 the least sorry for me, you know you're not ; you are all 
 most unsympathetic, every one of you." 
 
 " I'm not unsympathetic, and I'm awfully sorry for 
 every one ; do let me comfort you," exclaimed Wellington 
 Guest, who had also come to the rescue. 
 
 Victoria shook her head. " No one can comfort me." 
 
 " Some one might try," he suggested. " Here, I say, 
 Inchgarvie has been rather overdoing the part, keeping 
 you to himself all the way down. We change here, you 
 know ; let me find you a carriage. I heard the porter 
 say this was our train." 
 
 He helped Blanche and Victoria into the carriage as 
 he spoke, and, following himself, slammed the door. He 
 was so gay and careless, and Victoria was so quickly 
 made happy, Blanche wondered how anything could 
 really much matter to people like that. She herself 
 would rather feel a few things if she were never to 
 enjoy the others, in spite of the fact that the people 
 who feel the most are commonly called upon to bear the 
 most; she acknowledged the theory herself. It was, 
 indeed, only another version of the rather heartless 
 axiom, " The back is fitted to the burden." 
 
 Charlton Dammerel was a large white house standing
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 241 
 
 on high ground amid a forest of trees. The bare 
 brown boughs were so closely twined together the land- 
 scape seemed clothed even in winter ; dark shadows lay 
 low on the rustling trees, and large white stars shone in 
 the windy sky. Mortimer and Blanche drove on a little 
 in advance of the others, to be greeted in the inner hall 
 by a stately housekeeper in stiff black silk. She was 
 anxious to see her master alone, and seemed perturbed 
 and needlessly upset by a very small mishap tea would 
 have to be served in the library, she explained, as the 
 drawing-room fire had smoked and then gone out ; they 
 had been obliged to light it again. 
 
 But Mortimer only laughed. "All right, Mrs. 
 Laverton, don't you worry, the library will do quite 
 as well, if you'll have the other room ready by night." 
 The old servant still looked perturbed ; she had the 
 
 credit of the establishment very much at heart, and 
 
 curtsied apologetically. 
 
 Blanche smiled. " What does smoke or anything 
 
 else matter to-night ? " she felt inclined to say, and only 
 
 checked herself in time. "I'm afraid I've scandalized 
 
 Mrs. Laverton," she whispered as she followed Keppel ; 
 
 " I was so unsympathetic about the smoke." 
 
 " The smoke ? " he echoed ; he was quite as excited 
 
 as she, and much more preoccupied. " Never before has 
 
 the place seemed so like home. Can you guess why it 
 
 is so different to-day ? " 
 
 " You know how much I might have loved it," she 
 
 answered, and the ring of regret in her voice touched him 
 
 strangely. 
 
 " It was built for you, every stick and stone of the
 
 242 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 old place ; just as I was made for you, body and soul, 
 from the day I was born." He turned from her a little 
 bitterly, and closed the door. 
 
 " It seems so strange to be in your house," she said, 
 anxious to clear away the cloud. 
 
 " And yet it seems so natural to have you here ! 
 It's given me quite a turn, coming home together like 
 this." 
 
 She came a step nearer and clung lightly to his arm. 
 " I should have hung up your hat in the hall I believe 
 that's what you were expecting and put your slippers 
 to warm by the fire." 
 
 He looked down at her and smiled indulgently. " I 
 always said you had none of the domestic virtues 
 and yet how is it? you could make a home in the 
 wilderness." 
 
 " You make me nervous, dearest, and the house makes 
 me jealous. I don't want any one to see it but me." 
 
 " Hang it all, why should they then ? Let's lock 'em 
 out. Don't you wish they weren't coming ? " 
 
 He looked at her like a reckless boy, and held her 
 hands more tightly in his ; and before he would release 
 her he made her say she wished it too. 
 
 " But I thought you were so hospitable ! " she added, 
 as she straightened her hat. 
 
 " It isn't a question of hospitality to-night. I feel 
 as if we were on our honeymoon, you and I, and that no 
 one has any right to intrude," he answered, at which 
 moment they both heard the sound of carriage wheels. 
 
 The library was a long, narrow room with a lofty 
 ceiling, and a remarkable frieze of peacocks following
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 243 
 
 each other in procession all round the room. The book- 
 cases lining the walls had a lattice-work of gold wire to 
 protect the books, and the long windows were hung 
 with rose-coloured curtains, on which more gorgeous 
 peacocks trailed their tails. Blanche exclaimed less 
 than any one else at the things in the house, but she 
 saw more than any of the others. She had never taken 
 such an interest in any house before, and grew quite' 
 nervous when she noticed a book she had lent Keppel 
 some days before lying on one of the tables. 
 
 But Lord Inchgarvie had drawn his chair close up 
 to the table where she was making tea. 
 
 "Have you told Mrs. Heythrop yet, Victoria?" he 
 asked with ill-concealed triumph, as he looked across at 
 his reluctant bride. 
 
 " There is no good telling Mrs. Heythrop, she knew 
 long ago." 
 
 " Did you, Mrs. Heythrop ? Did you guess Victoria 
 would consent ? We are engaged to be married now, 
 did you know ? " 
 
 But his shy pride had the worst effect on Victoria. 
 " I wish you'd go and speak to some one else for a bit, 
 Sandie, I want to sit by Mrs. Heythrop," she said. 
 
 Lord Inchgarvie's countenance fell ; he moved away 
 at once, however, and she flung herself down on the 
 rose-coloured sofa and began to fidget with the tea- 
 spoons on the tray. 
 
 " You're behaving very badly," Blanche remarked 
 severely. 
 
 Victoria stopped fidgetting for a moment. " I don't 
 know any better ; I've always been cross when I feel
 
 244 MOKTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 cross, and I feel cross now." She frowned sulkily, and 
 went on playing with the teaspoons. 
 
 "It will be a pity if you get into the habit of 
 frowning, it rather spoils your looks," Blanche answered 
 in a reflective manner. " I wonder what it is you are 
 frowning about ? " 
 
 "About everything, of course. I hate having to 
 change my mind and come round to all the things I 
 said I wouldn't. I hate having to marry a man just 
 because everything is suitable and convenient and nice ; 
 the whole thing might be a French marriage as far as 
 any one has consulted me. People keep congratulating 
 me and writing such footling letters, and I loathe the 
 wedding-presents lots of them I never even undo." 
 
 " You're the product of a pampered generation," said 
 Blanche. 
 
 " It's a great pity to marry the wrong man," 
 Victoria protested. 
 
 "It's a worse pity to make the fatal mistake of 
 imagining after you are married that some one else is 
 the right man." 
 
 Victoria pushed away the tea-tray ; she did not like 
 the tone of ridicule in Blanche's voice, hitherto she had 
 spoken to her as one on an equality. 
 
 "I don't say but that after a bit I may get more 
 accustomed to Sandie ; women seem to get accustomed 
 to all kinds of husbands. But no one can say I've 
 umped at him." 
 
 " It would be a wicked scandal if they did ; to look 
 before you leap is quite another thing." Then Blanche 
 changed the subject, and spoke more thoughtfully still.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 245 
 
 "Mortimer has been telling me a great deal about 
 Inchgarvie Castle ; it must be a wonderful place. 
 My dear, you will be able to entertain on a bigger 
 scale than ever your mother has done." 
 
 The voice of the world appeals to the world in a way 
 no trite maxim ever does, and Victoria began to think of 
 the castle in Scotland, the palace in the Midlands, and 
 the mansion in St. James' Square. She smiled rather 
 shamefacedly to herself as she wondered if a tiara would 
 be as becoming to her as it was to Angela Sunsutton, 
 and whether any of her friends would have such generous 
 settlements as she. 
 
 "Then you think, too, that the primal marriage 
 blessing is gold ? " she said. 
 
 " Of course it's gold what else could it jolly well 
 be ? " exclaimed Wellington Guest, who had come up 
 for another cup of tea. 
 
 Mortimer came into the room at the same moment 
 with an open letter in his hand. 
 
 " Will this do, Blanche ? I wish you'd read it," he 
 asked confidentially ; he liked to consult her on the 
 very smallest thing he did. 
 
 Blanche dressed for dinner early; she wanted to have 
 time to look through some of the books in the library. 
 Mortimer had a large collection, and had often told her 
 about the different editions. Mortimer dressed early, too ; 
 it was some time since he had entertained at Charlton, 
 and he wished to make sure that everything was as it 
 should be. He hoped to himself Blanche might also feel 
 it her duty to come down soon, nor was his hope deferred.
 
 246 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " Is that you ? " she said, as they met face to face on 
 an upstairs corridor. " I wish you would show me the 
 picture of your mother." 
 
 He said he would be charmed, and went to fetch 
 a light, coming back presently with a heavy brass 
 candlestick. 
 
 " This is my mother," he said, as he paused under a 
 large oil-painting. 
 
 Lady Charlotte Keppel had been beautiful in rather 
 a formidable way ; she had dark, imperious eyes and a 
 beautiful brow, both of which somewhat distinguished 
 features Mortimer had inherited. Blanche gazed at the 
 picture with parted lips ; it interested her in the most 
 curious way. She liked Lady Charlotte's handsome 
 eyes and forbidding aspect, and was glad she could look 
 her straight in the face. 
 
 " She's very handsome," she said at last. 
 
 " She's very like me," Keppel answered with com- 
 posure. 
 
 " She's much better looking ! " 
 
 "Oh no, my dear, she's not. If you aren't more 
 civil to your host he won't ask you here a second time." 
 
 But Blanche was still studying the picture. "I 
 sometimes wonder what Lady Charlotte would have said." 
 
 " Lady Charlotte was a woman of the world and a 
 saint ; she would have said nothing." 
 
 " That's no answer ; all mothers are jealous of 
 their sons." 
 
 " That's true. She over-estimated hers ridiculously ; 
 she would have nothing in common with the person who 
 was not fond of him."
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 247 
 
 "You take everything up the wrong way. That's 
 not what I meant at all." 
 
 Still holding the candlestick he came a little nearer, 
 and asked her what it was she meant. 
 
 " Lady Charlotte might have said nothing ; I was 
 wondering what she would have thought. Don't pretend 
 you don't understand ; you will only look at things from 
 your own point of view." 
 
 She turned to him beseechingly as she spoke ; but 
 he looked so tall and graceful standing there holding 
 the candle with one hand and the other against his 
 side; and the half-sad, half- whimsical affection in his 
 eyes was all for her. It was unbearable, and she turned 
 away. 
 
 " It's too late to change my point of view now." 
 
 " Too late ? " she echoed. 
 
 "Yes, too late! Those were the words I said to 
 myself when first we met." 
 
 " I've forgotten my handkerchief," she said, letting 
 go the folds of her soft black silk, and shaking out the 
 ends of her lace fichu. 
 
 Mortimer offered to go and look for it, or to send 
 Mrs. Laverton, but Blanche preferred to go herself. 
 
 At the end of the gallery, in a corner of the corridor, 
 she met Mrs. Laverton, and stopped to ask what it was 
 she was carrying. 
 
 "Begging your pardon, madam, but it's the owl," 
 and Mrs. Laverton dropped a respectful curtsey ; " I 
 never thought, I'm sure, but that the company was still 
 in their rooms." 
 
 A great grey owl was lying stark and stiff in the
 
 248 MORTIMEK KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 housekeeper's hands. Blanche gently smoothed its 
 ruffled plumage. 
 
 " The owl ? Which owl ? Where did it come from ? " 
 
 " I wouldn't have had it happen not for a thousand 
 pounds, but it's the owl what fell down the drawing- 
 room chimbley and delayed us from lighting the fire. I 
 went white as the lace on your dress, madam, when I 
 saw the crittur, it give me such a turn ; and I wouldn't 
 have nobody know nothink about it if you please, least 
 of all Mr. Mortimer." 
 
 " Why not Mr. Mortimer ? Has the owl done so 
 much damage ? " 
 
 " It's not the damage I'm a-thinking on, it's the 
 family superstition. An owl brings ill-luck to the 
 Keppels of Charlton I've always heard tell, so I wouldn't 
 say nothink about it to Mr. Mortimer, if you please." 
 
 Blanche promised ; she assured the old housekeeper 
 an owl falling down a chimney was merely an accident ; 
 but she wondered to herself where she had heard the 
 same foolish superstition before, and left Mrs. Laverton 
 only half convinced. 
 
 Mortimer Keppel was one of those men who never 
 show to such advantage as in their own house ; he made 
 a charming host, so thoughtful and so considerate, that 
 even Victoria began to be happy again. Hospitality 
 was part of his creed, it was also part of his nature ; 
 but it was all stranger than the strangest dream, 
 Blanche thought, as she took her place at the head of 
 Keppel's table. She glanced once, involuntarily, down 
 to the opposite end, and caught his eye as she did so.
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 249 
 
 " I shall look no more," she resolved mentally, for 
 Mortimer should certainly have been looking at the 
 Duchess of Sunsutton, who was lovely enough to satisfy 
 the desire of most men's eyes. 
 
 Meantime Wellington Guest, who sat at her elhow, 
 broke in on her thoughts. He wanted to know what 
 she thought of the new waistcoat buttons all the smart 
 folk were wearing ? 
 
 Blanche looked round the table. " Don't tell Major 
 Boyle, but I think they are too ornate." 
 
 Wellington's face fell. "I'm sorry for that. I have 
 just ordered a pearl and turquoise set myself; but it 
 was as much to oblige the man as anything else. I'm 
 so deeply in his debt as it is, I thought it was the least 
 I could do." 
 
 " No one has asked after my father," Miles remarked 
 in an aggrieved tone. 
 
 "It must be a touching sight to see Miles and his 
 father together," some one suggested. 
 
 " It's touch and go, if you mean that ! " cried Major 
 Boyle. " No one knows how long Miles's patience will 
 hold out. I saw them together once at a railway 
 station. Ton my soul, Mrs. Heythrop and I were 
 quaking in our shoes. Miles is all right, you know, if 
 you take him the right way ; but his father's way was 
 awful. He heaped insult on injury, and capped it all 
 by turning", to Mrs. Heythrop and saying, 'I always 
 wonder, my dear Blanche ' excuse me, Mrs. Heythrop, 
 but those were his words 'what could have induced 
 you to marry that man?' 'I never wonder,' Mrs. 
 Heythrop answered."
 
 250 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 "And a jolly clever answer too," observed Miles, 
 who had never enjoyed anything more than Blanche's 
 ready retort and the old man's discomfiture. 
 
 " I always stick up for Eddy before his face, and 
 nearly always behind his back," Mrs. Eddy Eaton 
 remarked virtuously. 
 
 "Is there a ghost at Inchgarvie Castle?" Blanche 
 asked rather hastily, anxious that the subject of Miles's 
 father might be allowed to drop. 
 
 Lord Inchgarvie was much attached to his castle, 
 and grew interested at once. 
 
 " There's the ghost of a queen who comes at night 
 and cries and wrings her hands. I heard her myself 
 when I was a kid the night before my father died." 
 
 "What is the queen crying for? Does any one 
 know ? " Blanche asked. 
 
 " She cries because the nobles refused to say grace 
 till she bribed them with an extra glass of wine; but 
 there was one old reprobate the Inchgarvies were an 
 odd lot in those days ! who wouldn't mend his manners, 
 no matter how much wine they gave him ; so then the 
 ghost came. We have always had to say grace at the 
 castle ever since, to make up for his sins ; it's a sort of 
 family rule. The queen's name was Margaret, she 
 came from England, that's how she was so civilized, 
 and in the end they made her a saint. She had a 
 brother called Edgar Atherton, who was always trying 
 to get other people's thrones; but I don't know what 
 became of him." 
 
 Lord Inchgarvie's Scottish history was a bit sketchy ; 
 but Victoria was much too impressed to be critical.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 251 
 
 " If you imagine I'm going to say grace, you're very 
 much mistaken," she declared. 
 
 " Oh, I say, Victoria, but you must, you know. The 
 old earl once dropped it, and a spate came on that 
 night and flooded out half the crofters in the glen. You 
 needn't say it in St. James's Square," he added eagerly. 
 
 Angela Sunsutton sat on Mortimer's right ; she was 
 like sunbeams blended with starlight that night, and 
 dazzled every one who looked her way. Diamonds 
 shone in her golden hair, a constellation of greater 
 lights was set all round her white shoulders, her dress 
 was made of the faintest, softest amber silk, and dia- 
 monds were clasped around her delicate wrists. The 
 Sunsutton diamonds had become a family register, the 
 Duke of Sunsutton's grim form of revenge, when the 
 vagaries of his gorgeous wife tried him beyond endur- 
 ance, being to seize the family jewels and send them off 
 to the bank, from whence they could not be released 
 till he wrote an order himself and signed it with the 
 ducal signature. It was thus always possible to see at 
 a glance what sort of terms Angela was on with her 
 husband. But this summary mode of dealing with a 
 refractory wife had frequently put poor Angela to the 
 greatest inconvenience, obliging her on one memorable 
 occasion to appear at a fancy-dress ball in the simple 
 garb of the beggar maid, when she had intended burst- 
 ing on the world as the Queen of Sheba. It had been 
 the first real trial in her life, and had put her under the 
 cruel necessity of imploring help from a bank manager, 
 and approaching a stony-hearted director with tears in 
 her exquisite eyes ; but they were invulnerable, and the
 
 252 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 shock was BO great, her faith in man was almost shaken. 
 Miles had met her in Pall Mall immediately after the 
 interview; it was he who had helped her into her 
 brougham and valiantly done his best to assuage her 
 grief. " It's not so much for myself," she had sobbed ; 
 " but think of the poor Armenians ! " Armenians were 
 to have embroidered the Sheba robe the miserable 
 refugees were counting on the brilliant advertisement 
 and she scarcely knew whether she was most sorry for 
 herself or them. But the tenderness of her heart 
 roused all the dormant chivalry in Miles ; he became a 
 champion for the time, and entered his club with such 
 a pugilistic expression on his face that some one asked 
 him if he were going to fight a duel. 
 
 Angela was very conscious of her ornaments to- 
 night, having been deprived of them after the telephone 
 incident for a longer time than usual. 
 
 " Did you notice I was wearing my diamonds ? " 
 she asked Mortimer at last. She was so pleased she 
 could think of nothing else. 
 
 "Is it the diamonds ? I'm so completely dazzled, 
 it's impossible to saj what I've noticed." 
 
 " Of course it's the diamonds," she answered in- 
 genuously. "They were given back because I was 
 coming here. The moment Gustavus heard, he sent his 
 man with an order to the bank. I wonder what makes 
 him have such a good opinion of you, Mr. Keppel ? " 
 
 " Can't say, I'm sure," Mortimer answered with a 
 smile ; " he knows I'm not a cracksman perhaps." 
 
 But Major Boyle had started a new game. "You 
 take a pineapple," he began, "then every one puts up a
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 253 
 
 shilling ; that won't break any one. Then you all guess 
 the number of leaves on the pine and write it down, and 
 the one who has guessed nearest gets the sweepstake." 
 
 " But how can any one know the number of leaves 
 on a pineapple ? " objected Mrs. Eddy Eaton. 
 
 While Angela begged in most pathetic tones that some 
 one would help her ; she could never guess things unless 
 she was helped. The puzzled pucker on her forehead 
 was irresistible, and Miles did not miss the pretty 
 opportunity. 
 
 "Where shall I get a pencil and paper?" cried 
 Major Eoyle. " Every one has to write down a number 
 and then pass the paper on ; but no one is allowed to 
 read what the others have written." 
 
 " You can judge the number of leaves to some extent 
 by counting the number of tiers and then striking an 
 average," Miles observed. 
 
 But Angela only shook her head ; it wasn't at all 
 the sort of thing that would ever strike her. She was, 
 besides, too intent on unfolding the little roll of paper, 
 so that she might see what her neighbours had guessed, 
 to pay much attention to his remarks. 
 
 "Angela's cheating, and our host is the only person 
 who has paid up," said Major Eoyle, still fondling the 
 pineapple. 
 
 The game proved rather a success, and Blanche for 
 the second time looked down the table at Mortimer. 
 She added a unit to his age, and passed the paper on to 
 Welcome. 
 
 " We often do it on the Coast, but it makes your 
 fingers horribly dirty," Major Eoyle explained ; he had
 
 254 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 begun to pull the prickly tuft to pieces, and was count- 
 ing each leaf out loud as he plucked it off. 
 
 " Take care of the small ones in the centre, they're 
 the crux," cried Miles. 
 
 " A hundred and thirty-nine, a hundred and forty." 
 Major Eoyle had finished his task and held up the last 
 vestige of a leaf. 
 
 Mortimer was in his forty-first year, and Blanche 
 had won. 
 
 " How disgusting ! " Angela exclaimed ; " I only wrote 
 seven. It was all your fault, Miles, from beginning to 
 end." 
 
 And though he did his best to remind her he had 
 suggested a much more likely figure, she only said 
 she hated advice, and for her part thought people should 
 have the courage of their own opinions. Otherwise 
 Miles was vastly excited. 
 
 " Only wish, my dear Blanche, I could get you to 
 take the same interest in racing you do in other things. 
 Why, you know, with such luck " 
 
 But Blanche was looking towards the duchess, and 
 every one rose from the table. 
 
 "I got on better with Mr. Keppel than I ever did 
 before," Angela confided to Blanche as they crossed the 
 hall. "But the worst of Mortimer is, when he says 
 nice things he says them so politely, you never notice how 
 nice they are till five minutes afterwards." 
 
 "He's really very easy to get on with," Blanche 
 responded. 
 
 " You and he always seem to have so much to say 
 to each other. What were you speaking about before
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 255 
 
 dinner ? I heard him ask if you were interested in Man- 
 churia ? Who is Manchuria ? I don't seem to have 
 heard the name before." 
 
 " Manchuria ? Why, it's a place near China where 
 the Eussians are building railways." 
 
 " But how could any one be interested in that ? He 
 said it was coming along by strides, so I thought it was 
 a tip for the Grand National, the favourite, or some- 
 thing. What a silly thing for Mr. Keppel to speak 
 about ! " Then she lowered her voice. "All the same, 
 Blanche, I would sooner marry Mortimer than Lord 
 Inchgarvie, wouldn't you ? " 
 
 "/would," Blanche agreed, and she tried not to be 
 too enthusiastic. " But Mortimer is a poor man com- 
 paratively, whereas Lord Inchgarvie's income is beyond 
 counting, and the jewels are marvellous, I believe." 
 
 " That's true," assented the simple-minded duchess. 
 " I've seen a picture of the tiara ; it's one of the plates 
 in a book of historical jewellery we have at Sutton ; but 
 I didn't know you thought such a lot about diamonds." 
 
 "I wasn't thinking of myself, I was only thinking 
 how sensible Victoria had been." 
 
 But Angela's thoughts had flown to other things. 
 "I always like bachelor parties one can do what one 
 likes," she remarked, proceeding thereupon to make a 
 minute inspection of the room. 
 
 Victoria was also much interested in the furniture ; 
 they opened all the drawers in all the cabinets and 
 bureaus, and examined every table and chair. All 
 the china in the room had pink roses on it, all the 
 pictures were framed in flat brown frames, the walls
 
 256 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 were white, and the great Persian carpet that covered 
 the floor was old rose-pink to match the plates. It 
 was such a pretty room, Blanche almost sighed ; she 
 looked across at the two low chairs set either side the 
 wide hearth, and pressed her hand to her face with a 
 sudden little gesture of pain. 
 
 " He doesn't seem to have any of our photos any- 
 where about; I am sure he has been given plenty," 
 Victoria observed. 
 
 " No more he has," Angela answered. " I gave him 
 a three-quarter length on vellum only the other day. 
 Where does he keep them all, I wonder ? " 
 
 She turned to Blanche, but Blanche was leaning on 
 the mantelpiece with one foot on the low brass fender, 
 fully absorbed in Mrs. Eddy Eaton's account of her 
 daughter's engagement. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton felt as the sportsman feels who 
 has shot a royal or landed a record salmon. 
 
 " You have heard our news, of course," she began. 
 "I put it all down to the staircase at the Castle 
 myself. You know how convenient it is for anything of 
 the sort ; they went further and further up, and when 
 they got to the landing I really began to hope. Sandie 
 has been an angel of consideration all through, though 
 Victoria kept me in a fidget up to the last minute. I 
 had to keep her and Beatrice separated at the end ; one's 
 children are so amazingly clever nowadays, there is no 
 saying what they may not do if two of them conspire 
 together. But Sandie was cleverer than I, and got 
 round Beatrice somehow : he proved he knew more about 
 shelties than she, or collie dogs, I forget which it was,
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 257 
 
 and Beatrice had to climb down ; she's very just, you 
 know, and not near so unreasonable as Victoria ; and now 
 that it's all fixed up, I feel a good ten years younger. 
 Eddy says I'm a matchmaker, but if you are not to 
 save your senseless children from their own blundering 
 stupidity, wherever is the use of being a mother ? " 
 
 " He is so radiant, I must say I wish Victoria were a 
 little more so." 
 
 "Oh, that will all come right of itself," Mrs. Eddy 
 hastened to assure her. " I was just the same. I 
 remember how furious I was when I couldn't marry the 
 man I wanted to and found I must Eddy, and now I 
 wouldn't change for any money. I heard only the other 
 day he makes his wife keep accounts and reads all her 
 letters ; interference like that would drive me silly. But 
 Eddy is quite different, he knows nothing about arith- 
 metic, and can't be bothered to read his own letters, 
 let alone other people's. I want her to be married in 
 Eoyal Italian Point we've got two flounces, you know 
 but Eddy hates anything old at a wedding." 
 
 Some one asked Major Eoyle to sing when the men 
 came in from the dining-room. 
 
 " You'd like the ' Yonghy-Bonghy-Bd,' wouldn't you, 
 Mrs. Heythrop ? " he answered. 
 
 "Is that the song you sang us at Saffery Lodge?" 
 Keppel asked ; and he and Blanche looked immediately 
 at each other when he began to play. 
 
 Mrs. Eddy Eaton played dummy bridge with Miles 
 and Wellington. 
 
 " Shall we draw for dummy or change seats ? " one 
 of them asked. 
 
 R
 
 258 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " Oh, draw ; changing seats always makes me feel 
 exactly like the hatter and the March hare at the mad 
 tea-party," she answered, as she threw down the cards 
 in a long curve across the table. 
 
 Victoria, a little paler than usual, sat bolt upright 
 on the edge of a stiff old-fashioned chair; one of her 
 slim white hands rested on the arm of the chair, the 
 other lay on her lap ; her pretty, fair hair was piled high 
 on her head, and she held her chin a little too much in 
 the air. She was speaking to Lord Inchgarvie, or 
 permitting him to speak of her ; but the seat he sat on was 
 low, and she held her head so high, her eyelids drooped 
 each time she looked down in his direction ; which tiny 
 affectation so captivated Lord Inchgarvie, he could do 
 nothing but look, and try to look away, and then 
 furtively look again. 
 
 Blanche glanced at Mortimer once or twice ; the ex- 
 pression in his eyes was unfathomable and his thoughts so 
 deep that he never noticed she was looking in his direction. 
 
 Presently, however, the duchess began to upbraid 
 him about the dearth of photographs. 
 
 " I believe you throw them all away. How can you 
 be so cruel ?" 
 
 There were lots in the smoking-room, he told her ; he 
 always sat there when he was alone and liked to have 
 them about. 
 
 " Do come and let me show them you. I've got the 
 Duchess of Sunsutton framed in silver four inches deep." 
 
 He came back after a bit, but without the duchess. 
 His eyes were unfathomable still, and making his way to 
 Blanche he leant over the back of her chair.
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 259 
 
 "Angela has gone to bed," he explained. 
 
 Blanche asked if she was ill. 
 
 " She's not ill, but she's rather upset. She wanted 
 to see my photos, but I forgot Charlie's was there, and 
 when she saw him she broke down entirely. So I told 
 her she had better go to bed, and promised to come and 
 tell you. I said you would go and see her do you mind ? 
 It would be very kind if you would." 
 
 It was, however, some time later before Blanche could 
 go, Mrs. Eddy Eaton took so long to say good night. She 
 began in the drawing-room; gradually drawing every one 
 after her, she continued in the hall, to remember half- 
 way up the stairs she had still a great deal more to say. 
 She leant over the banisters to say it, while all the 
 men stood in a semicircle down below, each of them 
 vowing, when she left them at last, that neither of the 
 daughters would ever be a patch on their mother. While 
 she still held her audience the chance of his life came 
 to the gallant Inchgarvie. 
 
 He was on the gallery, out of earshot, lighting 
 Victoria's candle ; she had said there were no matches, 
 and had called him up. It was then her manner 
 changed, so quickly that he almost lost his breath. 
 Glancing over her shoulder to make sure they were 
 alone, she came and stood beside him. 
 
 " Sandie," she said, " I'm sorry I've been so horrid ; 
 I'm going to be ever so much nicer after this." 
 
 Lord Inchgarvie just managed to keep his mental 
 balance. 
 
 "Are you really?" he stammered. But there was 
 more to be said, no matter at how great a cost. " I
 
 260 MORTIMEB KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 want you to be happy I shall think of nothing else ; 
 but I don't want you to marry me to oblige your people, 
 and I don't want you to marry me under false pretences 
 either. If we marry I don't want to lead separate lives 
 or any of that sort of thing ; I want to do everything 
 together, and to have you always by me it is my idea 
 of bliss." 
 
 He looked at her anxiously, fearful he had said too 
 much. 
 
 Victoria gave one little gasp and burst into a torrent 
 of tears it was her last refuge ; but Lord Inchgarvie 
 had no great knowledge of women. He took her in 
 his arms, however that was simple enough and his 
 heart almost burst with happiness as she told him, in 
 snatches between her sobs, that he had been so good 
 to her. 
 
 After which Lord Inchgarvie came down the stairs 
 alone, looking like the head of every clan in Scotland. 
 Blanche was still waiting on the stairs for Mrs. Eddy 
 Eaton, and noticed the difference in his countenance 
 as he passed them by. She watched him when he got 
 down to the hall, and could not help smiling : in his 
 bewilderment he was earnestly pressing the spout of 
 a soda-water syphon, and as earnestly holding his 
 tumbler under the handle ! He had no more idea 
 what he was doing than a man in his sleep, but the 
 fondness of the rather foolish smile that was hovering 
 round his mouth explained it all. 
 
 "I've gone to bed, you see. I always go to bed 
 when I am unhappy; there's something so soothing
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 261 
 
 about pillows and an eiderdown," Angela said, as she 
 lay back in luxurious comfort and looked at Blanche. 
 
 Angela Sunsutton never looked more lovely than 
 when she was distressed. In her brilliant hours of 
 triumph she was a being to be worshipped ; in simpler 
 moments of this sort she only wanted kindness and 
 love. She was in distress to-night, and the fact of 
 her being so seemed as sad as though a child, in im- 
 potent sorrow, were to cry itself to sleep in the dark. 
 But the cloud on her brow etherealized her beauty, 
 and only intensified the expressive nature of her face ; 
 her golden hair was looped up in soft loose curls, 
 and her beautiful dark eyes looked as innocent as 
 the world before the discovery of sin. She had been 
 reading Charlie's battered Prayer-book ; she still held 
 it in her hand, continuing to turn over the pages all 
 the time she was talking to Blanche ; it had a senti- 
 mental value now far above rubies, and she would not 
 have parted with it for all the Sunsutton jewels. Blanche 
 had often envied Angela her radiant disposition : nothing 
 that happened to her ever seemed to matter much ; in 
 any case she could always seek distraction, and with 
 Angela to be distracted was instantly to forget. She 
 always reminded Blanche of an inconsequent swift- 
 winged humming-bird. Born without a care to live with- 
 out a sorrow, her life had always seemed one butterfly 
 dance of adulation, devotion, and fun. Gorgeously clad 
 as the humming-bird, she had known as little as he of 
 winter or rough weather. And Charlie had been just 
 such another : the gods themselves might have envied 
 the pair their felicity and friendship ; nor could any
 
 262 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 one blame them for enjoying the sunshine together. 
 But to-night the pretty brainless duchess was in tears. 
 
 "It was the photo in Mr. Keppel's smoking-room 
 the photo of Charlie, I mean. I wanted to see the 
 smoking-room, but when I saw my poor Charlie I turned 
 quite faint. Mr. Keppel asked me if I was ill ; so then 
 I explained, and he wanted to put the photo away, but 
 I wouldn't let him do that. It was in such a beautiful 
 silver frame," she continued softly; "I believe Mr. Keppel 
 is very fond of him, but he's one of those men who never 
 speak at least one of those men who never speak to me." 
 
 " There can't be many ! " Blanche remarked, as she 
 wheeled a low chair up to the fire and looked across 
 at the duchess. 
 
 " I wonder if he has ever been in love ? " responded 
 Angela, still trying to solve Mortimer Keppel. 
 
 " I wonder ! " echoed Blanche, gazing into the fire with 
 the faintest, proudest, most fleeting smile about her lips. 
 
 " We are told to love our neighbours in church ; 
 they are always telling us to, and yet when we do it 
 in real life every one calls it a scandal. How can 
 loving be wrong? Surely it would be much worse if 
 we didn't love any one ? " 
 
 Blanche considered. " There can't be any harm, in 
 loving," she replied a little doubtfully. 
 
 " When Gustavus finds fault he always asks me to 
 explain my conduct. He has no patience with conduct 
 that can't be explained, and I never can explain mine ; 
 so then he gets angry, and, after all, he is my husband, 
 and I promised two bishops and a sub-dean that I 
 would obey him." Angela sighed, and turned over more
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 263 
 
 pages of the Prayer-book. "I can't see how you can 
 help loving some people, though you can't explain 
 what it is makes you love them. No one could have 
 helped loving Charlie : he was always enjoying himself 
 and having such fun ; he never got dull or cross. He 
 would have made a charming husband ; I used often to 
 think so. For some one else, of course," she added 
 hastily. Then she frowned, and for a minute considered 
 deeply. " Yet I wasn't in love with Charlie, was I ? 
 That would have certainly been wrong." 
 
 "What's the difference?" asked Blanche; she too 
 was a little perplexed. 
 
 " Oh, all the difference in the world. You're not in 
 love with all the people you love, are you ? " 
 
 Blanche smiled ; she was scarcely thinking of herself. 
 
 " When I talk I always think of myself, it makes it 
 more interesting. Then it's not wrong to love, but it's 
 wrong to be in love ; and yet it's very wrong to marry 
 unless you are in love. Blanche, it really is very con- 
 fusing ! Why weren't we made without hearts at all ? 
 It would be much easier to behave properly then, and, 
 anyway, no one would ever have heart disease." 
 
 " We should lose a lot, though all that makes life 
 worth living." 
 
 "I should have thought there were lots of other 
 things that made your life worth living," Angela replied. 
 
 Angela had the gift inherited from childhood of a 
 perfectly honest stare. She stared now at Blanche, 
 who had all the attraction a person of strong character 
 usually has for one who needs constant support, specu- 
 lating dimly on things her shallow brain could only
 
 264 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 surmise. She could speak to Blanche, however, without 
 apologizing or explaining or swearing her to secrecy- 
 all which were strong attractions to a person of her 
 headlong temperament. She wondered sometimes in a 
 fitful way if Miles was the man who had taught Blanche 
 all she knew ; her reasoning was primitive, and she 
 concluded all strong views any woman held must have 
 been taught her by some man unless, of course, there 
 were people eo constituted they could teach themselves 
 she herself had no conception of such a character. 
 What she had not learnt from the duke she had learnt 
 from Charlie, and what Charlie had not taught her she 
 had learnt from others than he; there were always 
 plenty who were willing to undertake the task. 
 
 " You always seem so sensible and calm," she con- 
 tinued, still gazing at Blanche, " and Miles and every 
 one else depends on you so, and you always seem to like 
 every one equally, and not to mind when they go away or 
 don't sit next you, or any of the things I mind so much." 
 
 Blanche smiled again ; Angela was so very apt. 
 " I have minded them all." 
 
 " Eeally to mind ? " 
 
 "I shouldn't have felt them unless I had really 
 minded." 
 
 " One must mind, and one can't forget if it's the real 
 thing ; and surely no one could want me to forget 
 Charlie, it would be so unkind, and I can't forget him 
 anyway. You ought to love the neighbours God has 
 given you, I know you ought." 
 
 " In one way, of course we ought." 
 
 " Well, then, who's to decide which way ? And why
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 265 
 
 should you give up all the fun because other people 
 have evil minds ? Charlie had the nicest mind of any 
 man I ever knew ; so high and simple, you could say 
 anything before him and it did not matter. He never 
 saw much joke in horrid sort of things unless they were 
 very clever, and then he saw the joke less than ever. 
 And every man liked him at once, you could always be 
 sure of that ; and yet I don't know how they knew he 
 was so nice, for Charlie never showed himself off. But 
 they adored him in the regiment, and he was just as fond 
 of them, without ever seeing what a tremendous favourite 
 he was himself. I am very foolish, I know, but I pray 
 sometimes that it may all be a huge mistake, and that he 
 isn't really dead. It seems too sad to be true, and I can't 
 help praying, even if my prayers are too silly to be heard." 
 
 Angela Sunsutton wept. 
 
 " I have his Prayer-book ; it was in his hand when 
 he died. I take it with me always, and I couldn't sleep 
 now without it is under my pillow. There can be no 
 harm in that ? " she asked gently. 
 
 " How could there be ? " Blanche answered ; but the 
 colour rushed to her face Angela was so candid, and so 
 fearless in her candour; some of her words cut like a knife. 
 
 But she was not to be so easily absolved. " I think 
 there must have been some harm. There must be a 
 very distinct rule about loving, else people wouldn't be 
 so spiteful when you break it ; and when you don't keep 
 rules you must be breaking them, and I am quite as 
 bad as other people." 
 
 But Blanche interrupted her. " Indeed you're not," 
 she insisted.
 
 266 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 Angela was a good deal interested. " I keep most of 
 the Commandments, if that is what you mean, but then 
 they are so easy. I never steal why should I? my 
 own things are much nicer than other people's ; and I 
 never covet my neighbours, I am always pitying them 
 too much for having to be cooks or dressmakers or just 
 ordinary people leading deadly dull lives ; and I couldn't 
 bear to murder anything, not even a fly, because of the 
 horrid crunchy noise " she shuddered fastidiously, but 
 continued her ruthless self-examination. "I don't 
 keep Sunday, because even Gustavus never attempts to 
 do that ; and I always teach the children they mustn't 
 do things because they will only make him furious, 
 that's ' honouring ' you know ; and I have never " she 
 hesitated "committed anything," she concluded with 
 some little ambiguity. 
 
 "I never supposed you had ! " Blanche answered. 
 
 " There's no harm in me, I suppose that's what you 
 mean to say ; it's what people who know me well always 
 say ; it's about the most generous thing you can say of 
 any one who is talked of a lot. I sometimes wonder 
 what they mean by harm. At least, of course, I know 
 well enough what they do mean ; but there are other 
 kinds of harm than that, and if I haven't got the proper 
 kind I've got the others." 
 
 "Most people would call it the improper" Blanche 
 suggested, as she stirred the fire into a blaze. 
 
 But the duchess was studying her Prayer-book again. 
 
 " I hope I'm not in love with Charlie, for that would 
 be mean to Gustavus, and I'm not mean, I'm sure I'm 
 not. AH the same, it's only fair to say, if I was a
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 267 
 
 widow, and if poor Charlie wasn't dead or if I had met 
 him first before I met Gustavus, that would have been 
 better still we should have married each other, I know 
 we should, and there must be harm in knowing a thing 
 like that." There was silence for a minute. " Charlie 
 could never have been a duke, never, never," she 
 murmured to herself, in a meditative way. 
 
 " What do you mean, my dear ? Charlie would have 
 been a duke if he had been born a duke." 
 
 " The sort like Charlie are never born dukes. No 
 duke in this kingdom could ever have been like Charlie. 
 Have you never noticed that the men it would be most 
 foolish not to marry, are never half so nice as the men 
 one would be a fool to marry ? Position and riches are 
 so charming they blind one to everything, without the 
 man is a bounder, of course ; but it's the men who are 
 not the dukes who break your heart." She sighed, and 
 kissed the Prayer-book softly. 
 
 " I was never in love with a duke," Blanche observed. 
 
 " Neither was I," responded the heedless duchess. 
 " Dear me, what am I saying ? " she exclaimed, with a 
 little scream. "I married one, in any case." 
 
 "And loved him, I'm sure," Blanche added hastily. 
 
 " I loved him in a way, but I loved everything about 
 him as much ; I don't really know which I loved most." 
 Then she stared at Blanche. " Have you ever met a 
 woman who refused a duke ? " she asked. 
 
 Blanche admitted that she never had. 
 
 "Nor more have I; it wasn't likely that I would 
 break the record. You see, I am saying everything 
 bang out without making you promise not to tell.
 
 268 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 They say it's a mistake to be confidential, because one is 
 sure to say too much ; but when you meet some one you 
 can trust, I can't see why you shouldn't say what you 
 please ; and I know I can trust you, because you have 
 heard so many things already and are accustomed to 
 keeping them to yourself." 
 
 Blanche asked how she knew this. 
 
 " You are never surprised or the least inquisitive ; 
 people who have never heard much are always trying to 
 find things out. Every one confides in you, even Mr. 
 Keppel; he would never read his letters to any one else." 
 
 " He only read it over to see how it sounded 
 there was nothing in that." 
 
 " I dare say there was nothing in it, there never is in 
 business letters; but no one ever reads letters to me. 
 Charlie couldn't write any more than I can, and his 
 spelling was far worse. Do you think I've said too 
 much ? " she asked a little plaintively. " I haven't tried 
 to be discreet, because I've got a headache, and I've never 
 any sense when I'm tired. I'm never discreet at the 
 best of times, it's one of the things Gustavus complains 
 of; I only give myself away, however, never other people ; 
 but he only says, ' Think of your reputation.' But I never 
 think about anything so dull; it's not worth much if one 
 has always to be taking care of it, and I told Gustavus so." 
 
 " I don't know why people never speak about love," she 
 continued, after Blanche had assured her she had not said 
 too much ; " they speak about everything else, down to 
 their most internal illnesses, which are not nearly so nice, 
 and only make you think you've got them all yourself." 
 
 "Very few people understand love," Blanche
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 269 
 
 answered slowly; she leant back in her chair and gazed 
 into the fire while she listened to the duchess. " They 
 like excitement and adulation and vanity, and every 
 one envying them, but that's not love." 
 
 " I'm like that, I'm rather afraid at least I'm vain," 
 Angela confessed. 
 
 " You understand all the same," Blanche said briefly. 
 
 " Perhaps some people's hearts are bigger than 
 others," she suggested as a new way out of the difficulty. 
 " If your hands are larger, you can strike so many more 
 notes than an octave ; so when your heart is bigger, you 
 probably love people so much the more." 
 
 "It's more individual than physical. Some people 
 have much deeper feelings, and everything that happens 
 to them is a wonder." 
 
 " It's no one's fault, then ; I should like to think 
 neither Charlie nor I was to blame. I like to be sure 
 he has gone to heaven ; he would be so dreadfully dis- 
 appointed if they turned him back." Then she stopped 
 suddenly. " Oh, Blanche, do tell me what Charlie is doing 
 in heaven ? How is it possible to think of him there ? " 
 
 Blanche comforted her with soothing words ; if 
 Charlie was there he must surely be content. 
 
 Angela shook her head. "You don't know Charlie ! 
 How could it be heaven to him without guns and 
 horses and battles ? and could it be heaven with any 
 of those things?" She lowered her voice and spoke 
 very softly. " Do you know where this Prayer-book 
 always opens if I let it open of itself ? At the Epistle 
 for St. Michael and All Angels, ' There was war in 
 heaven,' that is how it begins. Charlie was a born
 
 270 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 soldier, you could see it in his eyes, and he was so 
 brave. He must have gone quite mad when he was 
 under fire, and I don't wonder ; if I were in a battle I 
 should cry all the time, war music is so stirring." 
 
 " He lived too late," Blanche said ; " he should have 
 been in the Charge of the Light Brigade ; " she could 
 imagine the dauntless Charlie quite at home in that 
 terrible scene. 
 
 Angela had grown equally grave. " He cheered, you 
 know, Charlie did, after he was hit, Mr. Keppel heard 
 him. Then he fell back and all his men rushed forward, 
 cheering is so infectious, and they were cheering too. 
 The surgeon who saw him afterwards could not under- 
 stand how he had breath to cheer, he was hit so cruelly. 
 Mr. Keppel couldn't understand it either. He said 
 Charlie died in a kind of ecstasy of battle. It was 
 probably the happiest moment of his life, he said. How 
 I wish I had been there ! I used to wish it day and 
 night at first. I should not have minded the Boers one 
 bit, or the guns and horses and screams, if only I could 
 have been there to hold my poor Charlie when he died. 
 I could have made him more comfortable, and whispered 
 to him all the time. I should have known just what to 
 say, and Charlie would have been so glad. 
 
 " Because Charlie was young and good-looking and 
 in the Guards, why was no one to love him? Rules 
 are so absurd : you may love the poor if you like, and 
 orphans, and the unemployed, yet you mustn't love an 
 orphan in the Guards how is that? Surely men in 
 the Guards are nearer neighbours than the unemployed ? 
 Anyway, one has much more in common with them.
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 271 
 
 " If Charlie had been married we couldn't have been 
 friends in the same way, it wouldn't have been fair to 
 his wife, and he wouldn't have needed me. But I taught 
 him a lot, and I often thought how grateful she would 
 be to me one day. 
 
 " We did everything together, that is how I taught 
 him, and he knew my tastes so well; I could have 
 trusted him to buy me a hat or engage a new nursery- 
 maid. It makes a man nicer to know a little about 
 these things, so long as he doesn't know them by 
 instinct I hate that sort ! And I was just as proud 
 of his shooting and riding, and of him being so wonder- 
 fully athletic and strong ; he never bucked himself, but 
 other men have told me how splendid he was." 
 
 Blanche followed Angela's conversation with a good 
 deal of sympathy; the analogy between herself and the 
 duchess was strong; their trains of thought might be 
 different, but it was the same spirit, exactly the same. 
 
 " When people see harm where there is no harm, they 
 never see any good they only see what they expect to 
 see. But it requires two to make a friendship like yours, 
 Angela, and all men are not so nice as Charlie." 
 
 Angela's logic was straightforward as a child's. 
 " Then one would not choose them for one's intimate 
 friends, that is simple enough," she answered, with 
 wide-open eyes. 
 
 " Perhaps it is scarcely fair to the man; one ought 
 to think of him," Blanche said; she was thinking deeply 
 of Keppel. 
 
 "One generally thinks too much of the man! I 
 don't think half enough myself, I forget them so soon
 
 272 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 all but Charlie. If they're out of sight they're out of 
 my mind ; I know it's most ungrateful. That's why I 
 have their photos all over the house, to try to make 
 myself a little less forgetful." 
 
 It was rather hard to argue with Angela: every 
 one knew the hard-and-fast rules of life, yet Blanche 
 found it none the less easy to insist on them. 
 
 "Blanche, I wish you would tell me again that 
 there was no harm. I kissed him, you know, there's no 
 good denying that, once or twice not much more than 
 four times, only when it was necesssary." 
 
 "Necessity must have very often been the mother 
 of invention, if you consulted Charlie, that is to say ! " 
 
 " I never consulted Charlie about a thing of that 
 sort, it wouldn't have been fair. I suppose that was 
 wrong, the three first times, I mean, not the fourth, 
 any one might kiss a man who was going to the war, 
 and lots of women did;" she was anxious to justify 
 herself when she could. 
 
 And Blanche agreed a little hurriedly, " Lots ! " 
 
 " I shouldn't like to think there was anything vulgar 
 about our friendship." 
 
 " Vulgar ? " echoed Blanche. 
 
 " I call it very vulgar the way a lot of men and women 
 behave. Kissing is vulgar too, unless you're careful." 
 
 Blanche smiled. " I'm sure it is," she agreed. 
 The text about wisdom coming ofttirnes out of the 
 mouth of babes, kept running in her head all the time. 
 
 " It comes to this, Blanche ought one to suppress 
 every emotion?" 
 
 " One ought to if they are wrong."
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 273 
 
 " But if they're not, and you know they're not, and 
 if Charlie's weren't wrong either? Do you mean that 
 people think a man and a woman can't be friends, 
 devoted friends, and remain only friends ? " 
 
 " Many people seem to think so." 
 
 " Then I know for certain they're wrong." 
 
 "So do I ! " agreed Blanche. She herself had no 
 wish to brand human nature with so hot an iron. 
 
 "Charlie was different," Angela repeated; it waa 
 the gist of her whole argument. 
 
 Mortimer was certainly different too, vastly different ; 
 perhaps they were exceptions and should have excep- 
 tional rules. 
 
 " I am sure Charlie was different," she agreed. 
 
 "And it does make a difference, doesn't it? Why 
 shouldn't I do what I choose ? " 
 
 "I can't see why you shouldn't, but I wouldn't say 
 so to every one ; not to a girl like Victoria, for instance, 
 who doesn't know herself yet or any one else." 
 
 " Lots of people have been shocked with me, I know ; 
 lots of our neighbours round Sutton, good sort of women 
 and old gossiping men, who go to church and bring up 
 children and never do anything wrong, but such dowds, 
 and oh, so plain ! I sometimes wonder who made them 
 our judges what can they know about fun and enjoy- 
 ment ? They seem to think everything is wrong except 
 garden parties; but I don't believe any one has ever 
 begged and prayed and beseeched to be allowed to kiss 
 their hair." 
 
 She pulled one of her own golden locks right down 
 over her eyes and pondered. 
 
 s
 
 274 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " One of them wouldn't nod to me once in Bond 
 Street, because I was driving in a hansom with Charlie ; 
 we were going to get Christmas presents for the children's 
 stockings. They don't mind so much what I do inside 
 the gates where no one can see, but they can't forgive 
 people who go about boldly and are not the least 
 ashamed of what they do ; and yet lots of them flirt 
 with curates and amuse themselves with country doctors : 
 how do they reconcile that ? " 
 
 But Blanche was trying to find a new way of dealing 
 with the problem. 
 
 "How would it have ended, my dear Angela, if 
 Charlie had not died ? He would have married at last 
 a woman with whom you had no sympathy, and what 
 would become of your friendship then ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't have liked it at first, not if she was silly 
 and selfish and didn't understand Charlie, that would 
 upset me, I know. But she would be his wife, and things 
 could never be very horrid with a cheery creature like 
 Charlie about. He would leave everything to his wife 
 and be devotedly fond of her. He would never scold or 
 interfere, but let her have her own way in everything. 
 I might have been a little jealous perhaps, it would 
 be only natural, but I should not be such a fool as to let 
 it be seen, and Charlie would have been happy enough." 
 
 " I should feel like that too, I think." 
 
 " You would, of course, because you're not petty or 
 jealous ; but I was thinking of myself." 
 
 " So was I ! " Blanche answered. 
 
 " When Charlie died I felt as if no one in the whole 
 world had any right to be unhappy but me, I think
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 275 
 
 now a dead friendship would be almost sadder than a 
 dead friend." 
 
 Blanche shuddered a little ; she could contemplate 
 neither. 
 
 " How kind you are, Blanche, to listen to my talk ! 
 I know Mr. Keppel sent you, but that doesn't make it 
 any the less kind. I have said a number of foolish things, 
 and you have never said they were foolish ; and yet if you 
 were as silly as I am, I could never have said them." ; 
 
 But Blanche had been very interested, and declared 
 no one could call Angela a fool. 
 
 " I hope you are happier ? " she asked; it might have 
 been the one touch of nature that made her feel as 
 though she could not be kind enough. 
 
 " It makes me happier to speak about Charlie, even 
 though it makes me so sad, and I can't speak of him 
 often, except to the children they loved him too. I 
 haven't been speaking of a platonic friendship, mind 
 you ; I don't mean that at all ; there was nothing platonic 
 about our friendship, it was much too real. Charlie 
 would have loathed a calculating, cold-blooded creature 
 like Plato." 
 
 Mortimer would have loathed him too; the only 
 friendship he cared to bestow acknowledged neither 
 barrier nor bound. 
 
 "Yet there must be some use of rules," Blanche 
 declared, very anxious to remain impartial in her judg- 
 ment ; " and the people who break them do it to their 
 own damnation." 
 
 " Not always. What happens to the people who break 
 rules because they are doing no harm in breaking them ? "
 
 276 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 "They do it at their own peril, and that proves 
 nothing. Because one man can walk on a tight-rope 
 without falling, you wouldn't say it was safe or advisable 
 for other people to leave off walking on the road." 
 
 Angela frowned again. " I thought we should all 
 try and keep to the narrow road I suppose that's what 
 you mean by the tight-rope ? " 
 
 Blanche gave up her metaphor in despair. "I only mean 
 it's silly to ignore rules because there happen to be a few 
 exceptions ; they only prove the strength of the rule." 
 
 " I'm glad I'm one of the exceptions, then. But Gus- 
 tavus would never understand that sort of argument ! " 
 
 " The general public never do. It ends often in 
 innocent people declaring they may as well be hung for 
 a sheep as a lamb." 
 
 " I don't understand that at all ! " exclaimed the 
 duchess. But Blanche thought it wiser to leave her 
 in doubt. " I suppose you mean, it is quite possible to 
 outrage society and yet remain perfectly respectable ? " 
 
 " There are many simpler ways of being respect- 
 able," Blanche answered. 
 
 " It's too late to tell me of them now. Whatever I 
 may mean to do in the future, I'm certain I've outraged 
 people in the past. I've got a great many nice homes, 
 and one of the greatest dukes in England, and I love 
 my children dearly; I can't help feeling all the same 
 that the most beautiful part of my life will always be 
 my love for Charlie, and when I think of his handsome 
 face and the sort of gleam he always had in his eyes, I 
 only want to kneel down and say my prayers over and 
 over again. Can you understand that, Blanche ? "
 
 FEIDAY NIGHT 277 
 
 " My dear, of course I can ! " Blanche answered, with 
 such fervour that Angela opened wide her beautiful eyes. 
 
 " I wish I knew a little more about you, Blanche. I 
 wish I could love like you. But I've never met that 
 kind of man, and I wouldn't appeal to him if I did. 
 People never confide in me because they think me a 
 sieve, but I never repeat, it is so mean, and I wish you'd 
 tell me just a little to-night. You must love some one, 
 it is so easy for a woman to love a man." 
 
 " Not all men ! " 
 
 " I never mean all men when I'm only thinking of 
 Charlie. But that proves it ; no one would say ' not all 
 men,' unless they were thinking of one." 
 
 " There's so little to tell, and so little object in telling 
 it, and I don't want to ruin either his life or my own, you 
 can understand that. But I have felt so nervous about 
 it sometimes, I must have seemed quite hard and cold." 
 
 " Perhaps he understood too." 
 
 " Perhaps he did, but lots of men wouldn't. No one 
 knows how difficult it has been." 
 
 " He wouldn't have liked you so well if you weren't 
 that sort," said Angela, who was not without her 
 moments of inspiration. "But he must be a man in 
 a thousand. So few men ever like a woman for her 
 character, especially a woman as good-looking as you." 
 
 " You might search through thousands upon thou- 
 sands, but never find any one at all the same." 
 
 Angela pulled her loose curls down over her forehead, 
 and raised her delicate eyebrows until they disappeared. 
 
 " I believe I know ! " she exclaimed suddenly, and 
 she lifted herself on her elbow.
 
 278 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 Among all the men she knew there was one man 
 who stood on a plane of his own ; not because she liked 
 him less, but because she would most gladly have liked 
 him more. No one was ever so friendly, or half so 
 thoughtful and kind, but no one was ever so hopelessly 
 aloof. He was the most aloof man in England she 
 sometimes thought, the only one. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " she cried, " how have you kept 
 your head ? " 
 
 Blanche had the fearless sincerity that always ac- 
 companies pride ; she refrained from any banal remark 
 of inquiry or denial. 
 
 " It only makes me all the more sure that a friend- 
 ship between a man and a woman in ordinary cases 
 must be impossible." 
 
 "Not with him," said Angela; there were some 
 things she could not imagine. 
 
 "Ours is not an ordinary friendship," Blanche 
 replied gently, and the light in her eyes made her for 
 the moment more lovely than the exquisite Angela. 
 
 Angela looked at her and sighed. " It must be 
 rather like being in love with your husband, quite as 
 respectable, I mean. The only danger would be in 
 getting to trust him too much. Are people ever as 
 happy as you might have been? It would make me 
 idolatrous, I know it would." 
 
 "It makes me very careful about judging other people 
 I know how easy it would be for them to misjudge me." 
 
 " There's not one of them fit to judge you, not one," 
 cried the duchess, with all the contempt of the aristocrat 
 who but seldom insists on his privileges. " You know
 
 FKIDAY NIGHT 279 
 
 that if Gustavus or any other duke or peer committed a 
 crime, they wouldn't be tried by an ordinary court or ordi- 
 nary lawyers, they would be tried by all the other peers 
 not because they know anything about law, but because 
 they understand peers ; it's called, one law for the rich 
 and another for the poor. Well, then, why shouldn't they 
 have one law for the good and another for the bad ? " 
 
 The idea of being tried by her peers struck Blanche 
 as no specious one; so much was intelligible when much 
 was understood. But Angela's sermon on loving-kindness 
 had unbalanced her a little, and wishing to think it all 
 over by her own bedroom fire, she looked at the clock. 
 
 " My dear, it's past twelve ! I must fly. Shall I 
 put out the light ? " she cried, as she sprang up and 
 pushed away her chair. 
 
 But Angela took no interest in practical details. 
 " The light ? " she echoed absently. " What light ? I am 
 so glad it is him, Blanche, and that it is you. I could 
 not bear to think either of you were mixed up in a 
 common intrigue." 
 
 "Good night," said Blanche. "I hope your head 
 is not aching ? " 
 
 " There's something aching ! " Angela answered ; and 
 she turned her face on the pillow and shut her eyes 
 tightly to prevent herself weeping. 
 
 " Good night," said Blanche again, more gently still ; 
 and when she stooped to kiss her cheek, she found it 
 was wet with tears. 
 
 In the gallery the lamps were still alight, but Blanche 
 was just in time ; Mortimer and Major Eoyle at that
 
 280 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 moment were putting out the lamp on the stairs. They 
 both turned as she came hurrying along, and Mortimer's 
 grave face grew eager in a moment. 
 
 " I've been all this time with Angela ; I had no idea 
 it was so late," she explained a little breathlessly. 
 
 " You might have let us come and sit with you. What 
 were you and Angela talking about ? " asked Major Eoyle. 
 
 " What were you and Mr. Keppel ? " Blanche asked, 
 pausing for a moment. 
 
 " Better not ask ! Koyle's private conversation can 
 never be repeated." 
 
 " Never ! " echoed Major Eoyle, fervently. 
 
 " Worse than Miles ? " she asked. 
 
 " Worse than Miles ever lets you hear, I'll be bound," 
 he answered, struggling meantime to put out the lamp 
 at the top of the stairs. " Here, I say, Keppel, why 
 should I do all the dirty work ? I've been putting out 
 lamps for the last half-hour, Mrs. Heythrop, and my 
 hands are saturated with paraffin oil." 
 
 "You've put out one too many now ! How is Mrs. 
 Heythrop to see the way to her room?" Mortimer 
 demanded; the end of the gallery had been suddenly 
 plunged into total darkness. 
 
 The major quickly offered to go and fetch one of his 
 own bedroom candles; but though he apologized, he 
 was not altogether sorry for the mistake. To put out a 
 lamp so far above his head was no mean feat for a man 
 of his inches, and he was glad neither of them had 
 noticed what a strain it had been. 
 
 It was certainly much later than Blanche had 
 supposed ; she wished she had not sat with Angela quite
 
 FRIDAY NIGHT 281 
 
 so long, and she wished Major Eoyle would be a little 
 quicker with the candle. 
 
 "He must be making it," she declared, rather 
 nervously, as she peered along the dark corridor. 
 
 "Looking for his matches, most probably," Mortimer 
 responded. 
 
 There was really no need to hurry, his tone implied, 
 and but faintly interested in the delay, he too peered 
 into the darkness. 
 
 " Where's Miles ? " Blanche asked. 
 
 She did not want the conversation to languish ; but 
 it was a silly thing to say, and she was angry with her- 
 self the moment she had said it. Once before at an 
 overwrought moment in her life she had made the same 
 primitive remark, and she knew in a flash that Mortimer 
 remembered. The house was so still and silent, and 
 Major Koyle would not come. At such a time and place 
 the subject was the last one she wished to recall. 
 
 Keppel remembered right enough the memory was 
 too fond a one for him to forget, even if Blanche had not 
 spoken in the same voice, and looked over her shoulder 
 in exactly the same way, she had done in the shed at 
 Southampton before the African War. The darkness was 
 around them, and nothing between but the empty corridor. 
 
 Angela's words of dazzled appreciation had wakened 
 Blanche out of all her wonted reserve ; Mortimer had 
 not yet shaken off the blissful delusion of being on 
 his honeymoon. If she could have clung to him for a 
 single moment ; if he could have held her in his arms ! 
 One deep called to another deep. " Oh, my God ! " cried 
 Blanche, under her breath. The expression Keppel
 
 282 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 muttered behind his teeth was terser and much more 
 succinct. Beyond the first moment on the stairs, when 
 in one second he had seen how pretty and startled she 
 was, and how the colour had rushed to her face, he did 
 not look at her again. Even now he only gave her one 
 swift glance with eyes that were burning to do so; then he 
 looked down at the floor and restively kicked the rug with 
 the toe of his boot the effort was known only to himself. 
 
 " Miles ? Oh, he's gone to bed some time ago," he 
 answered, with an almost imperceptible pause. 
 
 And Blanche grew calm and sensible again. An up- 
 stairs corridor, long past midnight, might very easily have 
 been an equivocal situation, but not with a polite, pre- 
 occupied, slightly wearied man, leaning with folded arms 
 against the wall and beginning to discuss the weather. 
 
 " I was a little afraid it was blowing up for rain. 
 Now, with anything like luck, I think we shall escape," 
 he observed, in his most impersonal manner. 
 
 It was the only time Blanche ever found his conversa- 
 tion dull; but it made her ashamed of all her foolish hurry. 
 
 Then at last Major Koyle came hurrying back with 
 the candle. Something had fallen into his jug of cold 
 water, he explained, what, Blanche scarcely heard, she 
 was in such a hurry to be gone. 
 
 "Good night," she said, seizing the candle and cutting 
 short all his apologies. 
 
 But Mortimer waited to put out the last lamp ; his 
 eyes wore a weary look, and the expression on his face 
 was jaded as he turned away in the darkness. No one, 
 whose love has not been thwarted, knows how great a 
 force love can be.
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 WHAT are we waiting for? Oh ! my heart! 
 Kiss me straight on the brows ! And part ! 
 Again ! Again ! my heart ! my heart ! 
 What are we waiting for, you and I ? 
 A pleading look a stifled cry. 
 Good-bye, for ever ? Good-bye, Good-bye ! 
 
 WHYTE-MELVILLE.
 
 SATURDAY 
 
 Charlton Dammerel. 
 
 BLANCHE woke with the hope of the morning 
 upon her ; she could sleep no more. With 
 a sudden rush of self-pity she thought of 
 other blanker to-morrows, but her heart was 
 too light for anything to actually blight the fact of 
 to-day. She threw the window more widely open, to 
 be greeted as she did so by a buoyant breath of spring ; 
 winter was held in abeyance, and the wind from the 
 south was as soft as silk. The tree-tops of the Forest 
 stretched for miles around ; it had been raining early, 
 and though the trees were bare every twig in the great 
 endless network glittered with the recent shower ; some 
 russet leaves in one of the rides shone like gold, the 
 hollies were the colour of sapphires, soft blue and purple 
 shadows covered all the other naked boughs. Far away 
 on the horizon the coast-line rose in an outline of amethyst 
 and grey, with one bar of dazzling light where the land 
 dropped. It was the wings of the morning dancing in 
 the uttermost parts of the sea. 
 
 Even while she lingered Blanche noticed two gardeners 
 at work in a corner of the garden down below. They 
 were digging a hole in the moist brown earth behind the 
 yew hedge, and must be going to plant something, she
 
 286 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-EKD 
 
 supposed till she saw they were burying a great grey 
 owl. She had forgotten about the owl and shivered a 
 little. What was it Mortimer had told her once about 
 grey owls, or was it Dorking hens ? She really could 
 not remember ; and forgot the matter entirely as she 
 met Mortimer in the hall. 
 
 There were point-to-point races to be held that 
 morning, to which all the party were going, and 
 Mortimer's graceful figure in hunting kit made Blanche's 
 eyes positively dance. 
 
 "What is it? "he asked. 
 
 " You ! " she replied, and all the charm that could 
 be put into so brief an answer, she put. 
 
 Mortimer drew himself up ; the man Blanche 
 Heythrop chose to admire might well hold up his head. 
 
 " Good morning," cried Victoria, in her clear, high- 
 pitched voice. "Mother is not half ready; you had 
 best send up her breakfast, else she is sure to Jbe late, 
 and I don't want to miss any of the races." She herself 
 was determined to lose no time, and taking her place at 
 the breakfast-table, began asking for ham. " And please 
 cut it thick, Mr. Keppel, I am so hungry," she said ; 
 while Lord Inchgarvie hovered round with a mustard- 
 pot and a plate of rolls. 
 
 " How I hate letters that begin ' my dear ' ! I can't 
 see why people don't put ' dearest,' " Angela remarked, 
 as she opened the little pile of letters that lay by her plate. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Miles, "I shall know how to 
 begin my next letter ! " 
 
 " I wasn't complaining about you" she answered 
 sweetly ; " but some people are so gauche"
 
 SATURDAY 287 
 
 " I always begin my letters ' darling,' business letters 
 and all it looks so much more friendly," Major Boyle 
 remarked. 
 
 He had more correspondence than any one else, and 
 was so full of importance he could scarcely contain 
 himself. 
 
 "The long envelopes are from the War Office, this 
 is from the Colonial. Would you like to read them, 
 Mrs. Heythrop ? They're not really very private." 
 
 " How could you give up your regiment ? I would 
 much rather be a soldier than a commissioner," Angela 
 exclaimed. 
 
 He was to be District Commissioner ; it made a bit 
 of difference, he told her. 
 
 But Angela only shook her head. "Nothing would 
 induce me to go to the West Coast nothing in the 
 world. They're all cannibals out there, and you can 
 never be sure what you're eating. Lots of men have 
 told me so." 
 
 Miles began explaining laboriously ; he would rather 
 quarrel with Angela any day than receive smiles from 
 another. 
 
 " I take it the great thing out there is to build 
 roads," Keppel said. 
 
 And Major Royle promptly began to expound his 
 views on opening up the interior. His head-quarters 
 would be Warri, he explained, and he should devote 
 all his spare energy to the cultivation of cotton. 
 
 " There'll be a slump in cotton soon," Miles observed, 
 rather disagreeably; it seemed unkind to damp the 
 enthusiastic major.
 
 288 MORTIMEK KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " How any one can sleep in cotton sheets when they 
 can have linen, I can't imagine ! " Angela added. 
 
 " Why any one should travel third class when there 
 is such a thing as the Pullman, beats me ! " Keppel 
 replied. 
 
 But Angela never knew when she was beaten, or 
 never acknowledged it if she did. 
 
 " They do it to save money, I expect," she informed 
 him gravely, surprised a man of the world should have 
 such a small knowledge of life. 
 
 At which moment Blanche remembered the date was 
 the twenty-second, and the twenty-second was Lord 
 Heythrop's birthday. 
 
 "Miles, it's the twenty-second, and you've sent 
 nothing to your father ! Don't you want to wish him 
 many happy returns ? " 
 
 " It's the last thing I really wish, but I don't suppose 
 it will make any difference whether I say so or no 
 what ! " 
 
 " Best be careful," Wellington advised; "prayers are 
 sometimes answered." 
 
 "I wouldn't be Miles's father for anything," Angela 
 said ; she was in a contentious mood that morning. 
 
 " His wife must have quite as lively a time," 
 Wellington added, " she has to keep the peace." 
 
 " I thought she would have to keep the pieces last 
 time they met. Miles was spoiling for a fight, and the 
 noble lord was ready enough to give him a lead," joined 
 in Major Royle. 
 
 " I'm always so glad Gustavus never had a father." 
 
 " Look out, my dear lady you'll raise the ghosts
 
 SATURDAY 289 
 
 of Debrett and Burke if you're not more discreet," 
 Wellington cried. 
 
 " I mean," Angela continued calmly, " I'm so glad 
 I never had a father-in-law I'm not the sort of 
 person in-laws would like." 
 
 "You go down well enough with other people! " a 
 manly voice protested. 
 
 " I've been going downhill all my life ; they say you 
 wake up with a jerk when you get to the bottom, like 
 falling down cliffs in a dream, you know," Wellington 
 said. 
 
 Blanche asked sympathetically, if it would be long 
 before he woke up ? 
 
 " Do I look as if I were riding for a fall ? " he asked. 
 "I'm thinking of taking to drink, Mrs. Heythrop, or 
 else of getting married one or other is the end of most 
 men's careers." 
 
 " You don't mean a word you say ! " Blanche declared. 
 
 " Clever people never do ! " he answered. 
 
 " There's Eddy ! " exclaimed Victoria, at the sound of 
 carriage wheels on the gravel ; and they all went into 
 the hall. 
 
 By rising betimes and leaving town at six o'clock, 
 Eddy Eaton had been able to join the party. He was 
 cold and hungry now but full of pride in his achievement. 
 
 "I thought of coming by the mail," he said, "but 
 three o'clock is such an unconscionable hour to arrive." 
 
 "How is our august friend ? " Mortimer asked. 
 
 While Major Eoyle made a military salute, and 
 began to whistle, half under his breath, the opening 
 bars of " God save the King." 
 
 T
 
 290 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 "Never had such a pleasant evening in my life," 
 Eddy replied, as he slipped off his overcoat. 
 
 But news of the day, even at first hand, could not 
 hold Mortimer that morning. 
 
 "Have some breakfast, old thing. I've had it all 
 kept hot. Eing for all you want and don't hurry. 
 You'll excuse me, I know. I've some business that must 
 be seen to at once," he explained, as he left his guest 
 and sprang upstairs three steps at a time. 
 
 " Blanche," he cried, as he caught her up, " would 
 you like some violets ? We don't start for a bit, and 
 there are some in a frame at the foot of the garden." 
 
 He had calculated like a miser on these few minutes 
 of grace before the horses came round. 
 
 The violets sweetly scented all the still sunny air, 
 and the high yew hedge completely blocked out the house 
 from sight. Blanche sat down on the edge of the frame. 
 
 "What were you and Angela speaking about last 
 night?" Keppel asked, as he groped among the violet 
 leaves. 
 
 " Loving-kindness Angela is full of it. I can't tell 
 you how eloquent she was." 
 
 " I thought women always spoke about illnesses 
 and servants when they weren't running down their 
 husbands?" 
 
 " When you are so odious, I always wonder how it is 
 I like you at all." 
 
 "You couldn't help yourself. You would if you 
 could, I know well enough." 
 
 " I regret nothing." 
 
 " Having nothing to regret ! "
 
 SATUBDAY 291 
 
 " Naturally ! " she answered dryly. 
 
 "Every morn I bring thee violets," he murmured. 
 " Don't give yourself such Puritanical airs ! " 
 
 But Blanche would not be drawn. 
 
 " I always wanted you to see Charlton. A nice old 
 place, isn't it ? " 
 
 "Beautiful," she answered ; then she paused signifi- 
 cantly, and Mortimer straightened himself. 
 
 " Don't begin telling me to start a foundry, or found 
 a family. I don't know what you call it." 
 
 " You'll really have to one day." 
 
 He sighed. " I'd do a lot for the place, but I 
 wouldn't marry unless I could do my duty by the 
 woman." 
 
 " You could never do anything else. It's not in you 
 to be a bad husband ; you couldn't if you tried. Try it, 
 anyway ; I tell you we should all settle down much 
 more naturally than you think." 
 
 " It could never be natural to me to like any woman 
 but you." 
 
 "Only at the beginning it would become second 
 nature after a bit ; and you're so proud, the mere fact 
 of her being your wife would soon make you think the 
 world of her." 
 
 " People often say to me, what a clever woman Mrs. 
 Heythrop is; the next time they make the remark I 
 shall say, * Give me a fool ! ' " 
 
 " I hope you won't marry one, then ; no one ever 
 had so little patience with fools as you. I have often 
 pretended I knew things because I knew how irritated 
 you would be if you had to explain."
 
 292 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " All right, my dear, I have often put you into 
 awkward situations solely that I might enjoy the 
 pleasure of watching you blush." 
 
 She looked down at the frame of violets and laughed. 
 " People have often said to me how charmingly con- 
 siderate Mr. Keppel is ; next time they say so I shall 
 tell them he's a bully at heart ! " 
 
 He rested for a moment on the opposite corner of 
 the frame and scrutinized her face. 
 
 " How is it, dear, I don't believe you're strong. You 
 change your colour much too easily." 
 
 " It's got nothing to do with health," she assured 
 him ; " it's the mental strain of being with a man you 
 never can be sure of for a moment." But she re- 
 membered the dark corridor the night before, and held 
 out her hand. " I didn't mean that, you know I didn't." 
 
 Mortimer was easily pacified. "I hate a woman 
 with a pachydermatous hide, and I love one with a skin 
 like yours. I hope you're strong ? " he persisted. 
 
 " You must have an excellent gardener, dear friend ; 
 these violets are as large as pansies," she answered, as 
 he handed her what he had gathered. 
 
 " They're exactly the colour of your eyes, but your 
 eyes are the loveliest. I tell you what it is, Blanche, I 
 feel exactly as if I had been drinking champagne." 
 
 She begged him to put his hat straight, and to stop 
 talking nonsense. 
 
 But he only pushed his hat still further back and 
 looked up at the sky. 
 
 " Fancy having to die on a morning like this ! I 
 wish the huntin' wasn't so nearly over."
 
 SATUEDAY 293 
 
 " I sometimes think you like horses better than any- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Horses, one woman, and a modicum of wine 
 what else could I desire ? My dearest girl, was the 
 coffee properly made ? I shall become a perfect frump 
 if I have to do much more housekeeping." 
 
 Even to play at domestic life amused them both, 
 and Keppel wrote down in his note-book the address of 
 the only man in London, so Miles affirmed, who supplied 
 coffee fit to put on the table. 
 
 Lingering a few steps behind Keppel as they came 
 back through the garden, Blanche sprinkled a handful 
 of violets over the little mound beside the yew hedge 
 where she had seen the gardeners burying the owl. 
 
 " What are you doing ?" Mortimer asked. 
 
 But Blanche only fastened the rest of the violets 
 into the front of her coat and did not explain. 
 
 The drive through the Forest was enchanting ; the 
 sandy road was so hard and firm, and the sunshine so 
 intense ; even Mrs. Eddy Eaton, who never noticed the 
 weather, unless it was so wet she had to put up an 
 umbrella, or so sunny she had to open a parasol, was 
 impressed. 
 
 " What is happening ? " she said. " I thought it was 
 winter." 
 
 Then Wellington, to beguile the way, began to tell 
 a short story quite a simple little tale, but the spirit 
 of camaraderie among men is so strong that a story 
 told by one does not need to be over-clever to be 
 appreciated by the others. He had been in a crowd
 
 294 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 somewhere, he forgot exactly where, when a fellow came 
 barging up against him and called him " Gubbins " 
 that was the pith of the whole story. " Hillo, Gubbins, 
 it's ages since we met," the insolent creature cried. 
 " To be called Gubbins, you know," Wellington Cumber- 
 land Guest kept repeating. " I told him my name was 
 not Gubbins, and that we had never met before." 
 
 Miles was almost more delighted than any one else 
 with the story. " Welcome, by Jove called after every 
 field-marshal in England Gubbins ! " it really was 
 most excellent fun. 
 
 Angela confided to Blanche that she would rather 
 be called Gubbins than Sandie. 
 
 " Do you know what they call Inchgarvie in Scot- 
 land ? " whispered Major Eoyle, who had overheard. 
 " They call him the Garvie Herring ! " 
 
 " Is it a red herring ? " she whispered back. 
 
 Once or twice that morning Wellington had looked 
 at Blanche, and then hesitated and turned away ; but 
 when the brake drew up on the open ground at the 
 edge of the Forest and the horses were taken out, he 
 came up again and asked her if she would come for a 
 little walk, so that he might show her part of the course. 
 
 Blanche never quite understood Wellington ; he 
 rather reminded her of the man who was described as 
 having so many pleasant social vices. At other times 
 she was inclined to think most of his wickedness was 
 merely a pose to hide a good deal of genuine kindness 
 of heart. She asked him what he was going to back ? 
 
 " I'm stoney, I'm not going to take up a single bet.
 
 SATUEDAY 295 
 
 I tell you, Mrs. Heythrop, without joking, I have to 
 count the words in my wires nowadays." 
 
 " How are you going to economize ? " 
 
 " I'm thinking of marrying," he replied. 
 
 " For money ? " 
 
 He shook his head. " For t'other thing more likely." 
 
 Wellington Guest never looked at the person he was 
 talking to till the end of his sentence, when he gave 
 him or her one sweeping glance and looked away again. 
 
 " You don't believe a word I am saying, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not a word," she answered, laughing. 
 
 " Seriously, Mrs. Heythrop, what is a poor devil to 
 do who is in love and in debt at the same time, and 
 wants to play the game all round ? " 
 
 "I should advise him to keep out of the way. To 
 expect a girl to be true to two men at once is expecting 
 a little too much." 
 
 " I don't want her to be true to either of the other 
 two, but I should like her to be true to me." 
 
 " Good Heavens, Welcome, what do you mean ? I'm 
 speaking about Victoria." 
 
 " But I'm not ! " he answered, raking her face with 
 another keen glance. " I'm not quite the double-dyed 
 villain you take me for ! Victoria led me a giddy dance 
 at one time, but it was only a dance ; she did it to bring 
 Inchgarvie to the scratch, I suppose. Not that he 
 wanted much bringing, but all the Batons like variety." 
 
 Blanche thought Victoria, at least, had been a little 
 more deeply involved, and wondered again if Welcome 
 meant what he said. Whether or no, his point of 
 view was certainly the wisest.
 
 296 MOETIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I'm very glad they're fixed up," she said. 
 
 " So am I, never was so glad about anything in my 
 life. Give her her head and she'll keep it ; but come 
 the authoritative over her and she loses it at once, none 
 of the family can stand control. Trust these Scotchmen 
 though they're a canny lot ; no doubt but Inchgarvie 
 has a way of his own ! " He glanced at her again. 
 " Have you ever heard, that if the blind lead the blind 
 they both fall into the ditch ? " 
 
 "It says so in the Bible." 
 
 He sighed. " You write to Sybil Eaton sometimes, 
 don't you ? She told me you did." 
 
 "She told you?" Blanche echoed, more than ever 
 amazed. 
 
 " I went over to Ireland to see her last week." 
 
 " Oh, why ? " exclaimed Blanche. " It will only 
 make people speak all the more." 
 
 " I went over to make them stop speaking in all 
 humility, such was my idea. I went over to ask her if 
 she would marry me." 
 
 Blanche stared at him, but could read neither sanity 
 nor insanity in his usual rapid glance. 
 
 " Some one ought to marry her," he continued, 
 " she's had an awful rough time. The husband has 
 divorced her, and now the man who dragged her into 
 the divorce has left her in the lurch. She's got every- 
 thing she richly deserves and a good deal more besides." 
 
 "No one is more aware of it than she herself." 
 
 "I know that," he answered impatiently. "The 
 whole thing is monstrous, and I should have apologized 
 for mentioning it at all. But marry a fool with the face
 
 SATUKDAY 297 
 
 of an angel to a beast with the mind of a beast, and add 
 a lying scoundrel who leaves an ignorant child to face 
 the music alone, and you have the whole pretty 
 situation." 
 
 " I had no idea you knew so much about it." 
 
 " It's difficult not to know things about the people 
 you are fond of." 
 
 "You must have an uncommonly kind heart," 
 Blanche stammered. Wellington had never interested 
 her so much before. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! It's not kindness at all," he declared ; 
 but his voice shook a little. " I wanted to ask you if I 
 was taking an unfair advantage ? I'm so afraid she'll 
 feel herself bound to have me now. She's in very great 
 trouble. Do you know the whole story?" he added, 
 with a searching glance. 
 
 " I know it all," said Blanche. Mortimer had just 
 told her. 
 
 " Keppel knows her brother, that's how it is. The 
 brother would help me, I know; but I would rather 
 have Sybil choose for herself. You'll think it's a case 
 of setting a thief to catch a thief what ? But I can 
 look after her at least. God knows she has need of it ! " 
 
 " I can't say what I really think I can't indeed," 
 she told him. 
 
 And Wellington hastily murmured, " Thank you, 
 thank you ; please don't try. You're the only one who 
 hasn't cast her off the only one. I don't blame the 
 others, not one bit ; but I could kiss the ground you 
 trod on. Forgive me if I speak like a fool, but you 
 can't think how she hung on your letters."
 
 298 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I should suffer fools gladly if they were all your 
 sort," she said. "But tell me some more; I never 
 knew you were fond of Sybil." 
 
 "I've always been fond of her. I went to her 
 wedding and ground my teeth all through the service. 
 After that I kept away, only to give place to a man a 
 good deal worse than myself! But I understood my 
 own weakness, and hers, too well; any attempt at 
 polite friendship with us would have been impossible; 
 she's no strength of character, I have less, and we have 
 neither of us any sense." He shook his head. " It's 
 very few who can indulge in that sort of game." 
 
 "Very few," agreed Blanche. It was a perilous 
 game at the best of times. 
 
 " I am glad I can go to her with all my sins on my 
 head ; a better man had been forced to think twice, but 
 I have nothing to lose." 
 
 " Perhaps you won't lose it," she suggested. 
 
 " Oh yes, we shall ; it takes close on fifteen years to 
 live down a scandal. And, mind you, I say nothing 
 against it being so. I may be no better than I should 
 be ; but a woman can't be too good." 
 
 Blanche murmured something about circumstances 
 making a difference. 
 
 "I think so, and so may you; but nothing can ever 
 alter the fact. I've called her all the hard names I 
 could, and said as much as I had the heart to say. I 
 would so much rather fling the stones myself than 
 allow any one else to fling them." 
 
 "You might have known " Blanche interrupted, 
 
 a little reproachfully.
 
 SATUEDAY 299 
 
 He assured her he did know; of course he knew. 
 How could he have spoken a word to her else ? 
 
 "I shall write to her at once. I couldn't see what 
 would happen, or what one could possibly propose. I 
 never thought of this." 
 
 " Don't laugh at me, Mrs. Heythrop. I know well 
 enough they will all say I'm a rum 'un to try and put 
 things right. There's no other woman would marry 
 me, is there now ? I shouldn't have the face to ask 
 her; and yet poor Sybil will be a fool if she thinks 
 twice. I'm in debt, you know, I've got nothing to offer. 
 I've always been in debt when I wanted to get married ; 
 it has always stumped me hitherto." 
 
 " It's different now." 
 
 " It is a bit ; but it's none the less hard for Sybil. 
 We want to lay low, however, and, by Jove, we shall 
 have to ! We'll get a little place at Errislannan, at 
 the head of Solway Bay. There's lots of sport there 
 shooting and fishing ; I shall sit in a duck punt all day, 
 and I've sent all my hunters to Tattersall's. I mean to 
 sell up everything I've got, except a fowling-piece and my 
 top hat. I'll keep the top hat to let people know I'm a 
 gentleman. We can't spend much money that way, 
 and I shall have a little; there was always a bit of 
 capital I couldn't touch." Then he looked at Blanche. 
 " I know everything you've done, Mrs. Heythrop ; you 
 have been so kind. How generous of you to spare so 
 much ! " 
 
 Blanche blushed uncomfortably. " Don't thank me. 
 Half of it was from Miles ; but he doesn't want her to 
 know."
 
 300 MORTIMEE KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 She was a good deal touched by Welcome's behaviour 
 Bayard or Galahad could scarcely have done more. 
 There was, besides, something almost pathetic in his 
 idea of domestic life, he was willing to be happy with 
 such shreds. 
 
 "I deserve so little," he said. 
 
 "What will the world do without you?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Wellington was rather pleased. " Oh, it will jog on 
 all right ! I've often wished I could settle down, and 
 I'm just the sort of man for this sort of job." 
 
 Wellington's disjointed manner of describing rather 
 an unusual act of chivalry had at first been a little 
 difficult to follow. Blanche had grasped it fully at last. 
 
 "But what will you do without the world?" she 
 asked. 
 
 He smiled a little ruefully. "I shall turn into a 
 pillar of salt if you say much more. Isn't that what 
 happens to the people who look back ? Seriously, Mrs. 
 Heythrop, fellows have written to me from the colonies, 
 grousing at life, and only longing to be able to hail a 
 hansom again and drive down to the club. They stop 
 writing when they get married, but they don't mind the 
 banishment any more." 
 
 " I understand," Blanche said. It was nevertheless 
 the last lesson she had ever expected to learn from 
 Wellington. Then she asked him about Sybil. " Has 
 she agreed ? What did she say ? " 
 
 " Said she didn't want to wreck my life. ' You 
 can't do that, dear child,' I said ; ' my life was wrecked 
 too long ago.' "
 
 SATUEDAY 301 
 
 "It's impossible to understand you, and still more 
 impossible to imagine you a married man." 
 
 "Sybil deserves a better fate, you think? I know 
 it's a miserable poor life to offer any woman, and I'm 
 so afraid she'll feel herself bound to accept. What is 
 the alternative, you know ! " 
 
 "That wasn't what I meant at all. It's a much 
 better fate than poor Sybil deserves." 
 
 "Don't say that," he said gently. "I don't want 
 you to know us or anything like that ; but write to the 
 outcasts in the wilderness sometimes, and remember 
 Sybil in your prayers." 
 
 Blanche was very anxious to express some of the 
 admiration she was feeling ; but Wellington only said, 
 " Tut, tut ! " and told her it was time they turned 
 back. 
 
 "Do you remember Sybil saying once she loved the 
 world too much to sacrifice herself to either the flesh 
 or the devil? She's sacrificed herself to both," said 
 Blanche. (Sybil's husband had been a conspicuously 
 ponderous man, there could only be one name for the 
 other.) 
 
 " And the world she loved was not so black as he 
 was painted ! Is that what you mean ? " Wellington 
 asked, with a graceful bow. 
 
 " The eyes of the world will be the first to realize 
 that," she answered. 
 
 Miles was reading out items of interest from the 
 Morning Post to Mrs. Eddy and Angela, who were still 
 in the brake, when Blanche returned.
 
 302 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I never read the papers, except the Births, Deaths, 
 and Marriages, and the column that says where every 
 one is," Mrs. Eddy Eaton observed. 
 
 "I can't stand newspapers, they're so dull; but I 
 always read the Births," Angela remarked virtuously, 
 "and anything interesting about myself." 
 
 "And do you read that in the Births?" Miles 
 suggested. 
 
 Angela was somewhat annoyed. Miles wanted to 
 put her out of countenance she knew. 
 
 "I was speaking of the Fashionable Intelligence 
 column," she answered icily. 
 
 "But a birth is fashionable intelligence right 
 enough, especially in your case," he persisted. 
 
 She raised her patrician chin and looked down the 
 ridge of her delicate nose. 
 
 " When I had a son it wasn't fashionable intelligence 
 at all it was a historical event." 
 
 Her withering glance failed, however, to annihilate 
 Miles. 
 
 " So sorry, your grace, but I never knew before you 
 were a woman with a history ! " he replied. 
 
 And Angela was so pleased at having got the better 
 of Miles, she never noticed that he had had the last 
 word after all. 
 
 Then Keppel came riding up on his favourite hunter, 
 and Blanche and Mrs. Eddy, who had taken no part 
 in the newspaper controversy, leant over to speak 
 to him. 
 
 " Wish me good luck," he said ; " we are just going 
 to start."
 
 SATUEDAY 303 
 
 "You both look as fit as a fiddle," said Miles; 
 " you're certain to be in the first flight." 
 
 "I thought white feet weren't lucky," said Mrs. 
 Eddy Eaton, looking critically at his mount. 
 
 But Keppel flicked the coat of his peerless steed, and 
 said it was only a groom's superstition. 
 
 " I want to see the finish," Blanche said. 
 
 Miles promised to take her, and while he was point- 
 ing out the goal to the others, Mortimer came close up 
 to the side of the brake so that she could stroke the 
 hunter's satin neck. 
 
 "You don't treat me so gently as that," he mur- 
 mured, as he stooped down. 
 
 " How unfair you are ! I've been nicer to you than 
 I ever ought to be." 
 
 " Why don't you keep to the rules then ? How nice 
 ought you to be ? " 
 
 "Not half so nice as I should like to be, and you 
 never make it any easier." 
 
 She went on stroking the horse's neck and would not 
 raise her head. 
 
 " Look at me, dear," he said a little impatiently. 
 
 She looked at last, and her heart was in her eyes. 
 
 "What's your horse's name?" Angela asked, by 
 way of turning the cold shoulder on Miles, with whom 
 she had just done disputing. 
 
 She might know nothing of the different points the 
 race was to cover, but that was no reason why she should 
 not argue the matter out, and for Miles to prevent her 
 getting the best of the argument, only showed how 
 pig-headed all men were.
 
 304 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I call him ' Creditor,' because he's a dun," Mortimer 
 answered. 
 
 But Angela failed to see the subtle joke, and the 
 slight smile that had played about Mortimer's mouth 
 politely faded away. 
 
 " Are you lucky about chancey things, Mr. Keppel ? 
 Luck has so much to do with racing ? " 
 
 " He never has any luck in a gamble, I don't know 
 how it is," said Miles. 
 
 " Unsuccessful in gaming, successful in love. I 
 shall probably be whipper-in, but what's the odds, I 
 shall have had my run ! " 
 
 Mrs. Eddy was much diverted by Mortimer's random 
 remarks. 
 
 " I believe you're going to be married at last ! Are 
 you engaged ? " she asked. 
 
 " I shouldn't say I was exactly engaged ! " Mortimer 
 answered slowly. 
 
 "I shouldn't listen to a word he says; he's only 
 trying to be interesting," Blanche declared. 
 
 "He's either laughing at every one, or else he's 
 being very clever, or perhaps he's merely in love, 
 which is it ? " 
 
 Mortimer raised his eyebrows. "It were hard to 
 say," he answered. With which cryptic remark he 
 waved his hand and rode off, casting one long grave look 
 at Blanche. 
 
 She tucked the violets more firmly into her fur coat, 
 and stood up to watch him ride away. " Have you got 
 any glasses, Miles ? " she asked ; and he gave her his at 
 once, and said he could easily share with Angela.
 
 SATUEDAY 305 
 
 "It's colder now the sun's gone," Mrs. Eddy Eaton 
 said, as she wrapped an ermine stole more closely round 
 her shoulders. 
 
 All the glitter of the morning had faded, the sky had 
 clouded over, and the day was grown pale and grey. 
 But Blanche scarcely noticed it ; she was longing for 
 Keppel to win, and hung on Miles for information. Miles 
 was following the race with excitement equal to her own. 
 
 " He's got such a light hand, you know, and no man 
 ever had a prettier seat. Look out, Angela, I can see 
 nothing but your hat." 
 
 "I hope that silly-looking owl in the green coat 
 won't win," Mrs. Eddy exclaimed. 
 
 While Angela shut her eyes. " I can't look; oh, Miles, 
 I really can't ! " she cried. 
 
 "All right," he answered soothingly. "You can 
 hold my hand if you like. None of them will overhaul 
 him now." 
 
 " Will he win, do you mean ? " Blanche asked breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 She would be a little kinder than usual to Keppel 
 when he came back, a little more friendly and glad 
 there could be no harm in that. He would look so 
 handsome and gay, she knew ; he would make so light 
 of it all, and turn to her first of all, only caring to hear 
 what it was she had to say. The colour came in her 
 face with a little wave of heat, and her eyes dilated 
 with eagerness. Every one was breathless and excited, 
 it was nothing that she should be so too. 
 
 One of the most pathetic things is the happiness of 
 people immediately before disaster. 
 
 u
 
 306 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 At the last obstacle Mortimer was two lengths in 
 front with his race well won, when suddenly, swiftly, 
 apparently without any warning, Creditor carne a dread- 
 ful smash, and turning a complete somersault, appeared 
 to fall with his whole weight on his rider. The man in 
 the green coat swerved to the right just in time, and in 
 a moment a small crowd had gathered. 
 
 Blanche seized her husband's arm, she could not 
 speak one word ; but Angela hid her face in her hands 
 and burst into terrified sobs. 
 
 "Who is it?" cried Mrs. Eddy Eaton. The crowd 
 had gathered so fast that they were none of them quite 
 sure. " Oh, Miles, do be quick ! " But before she had 
 time to speak, Miles had left them and was racing 
 across the field. 
 
 " I think it was the man in the green coat ; I'm sure 
 it was," she declared. " Don't cry so, Angela, unless you 
 really must. For mercy's sake wait till we are sure." 
 
 But Angela wept on, clinging blindly to Blanche's 
 arm. Blanche had no idea that any one was touching 
 her ; she seemed turned to stone. The intentness with 
 which she was watching for Miles had numbed her to 
 every other sensation. 
 
 It was not many moments before Miles had reached 
 the little crowd on the racecourse. They made way for 
 him at once, and some one began to speak, but he could 
 not hear what he said ; the sight that met his eyes had 
 turned him sick with horror. 
 
 Stunned by the shock, he waited till the doctor, who 
 had been on the ground, had made what investigations he 
 could.
 
 SATUEDAY 307 
 
 " Is there any hope? " he asked, in a voice no one 
 could have recognized as his own. 
 
 " We can do nothing ; he is past all our aid now," 
 the doctor said. " But his mind is clear ; it wasn't his 
 head. Some one should speak to him and tell him, I 
 think. Is your wife here ? A woman knows best what 
 to say." 
 
 Miles went forward and bent down over Keppel with 
 a gentleness he scarcely knew was in him. 
 
 " My dear, dear fellow," he stammered, " would you 
 like to see Blanche ? " 
 
 She was the one person he would ask for if he were 
 dying; she seemed to him the only person now who 
 could be of any avail, and Mortimer thought the same. 
 
 A moment, a month, a year might have passed, so 
 it seemed to Blanche, before Miles came back to them. 
 The race is not always to the swift and she knew there 
 was no hope the moment he emerged from the crowd, but 
 she went to meet him ; she could not wait. 
 
 " He wants you," Miles said, breaking off abruptly. 
 He could say no more. 
 
 For one merciful moment Blanche turned so dizzy 
 she could not hear ; but Miles had begun to speak again, 
 and the heaving ground grew firm beneath her feet. 
 
 " He knows it's all up, but he has one or two things 
 to say. I promised you would come ; I couldn't, Blanche 
 I really couldn't stand and watch Keppel die not so 
 suddenly as this. So he asked me to leave you alone 
 with him. It won't be long, and he would rather speak 
 to you. You won't faint, will you ? " he asked, a little
 
 308 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 anxiously. " I shall be close by ; but the doctor said one 
 at a time was as much as he could stand." 
 
 Blanche told him she would not faint ; she was sure 
 of that. She remembered as she spoke the horrid super- 
 stition about the owl, and some of Mortimer's own words 
 returned to her like a flash. 
 
 " You wouldn't whine, and you wouldn't cry as other 
 women do, and yet it would be a thousand times worse." 
 It was a thousand, thousand times worse ! 
 
 Mortimer Keppel lay on the ground, dying like a 
 king, without a murmur or a moan. Blanche went and 
 knelt on the grass close beside him it was just the gay, 
 gallant death she knew he would die. 
 
 His voice was broken and low, so that no one but she 
 could hear what he said ; she heard every word. 
 
 " Are you there, Blanche ? " He was so pleased to 
 see her, his voice was like a caress. " Not such a glorious 
 death as Charlie's ! But you wouldn't have been beside 
 me out there." 
 
 Miles still lingered a moment. "Is he so fond of 
 you, Blanche ? Or does he take you for some one else ? 
 I can't stand this ; it's too fearful. You must do some- 
 thing ; can't you kiss him, Blanche ? Thank God it 
 can't last long." 
 
 Miles was completely overwhelmed by the tragedy ; 
 the look of unspeakable anguish in Blanche's face un- 
 nerved him still more. Perhaps he should not have 
 brought her, but Mortimer was their greatest friend ; 
 she was as fond of him as he was perhaps fonder ! it 
 struck him suddenly, and he wondered he had never 
 thought of it before. A friendship betwixt Blanche and
 
 SATUEDAY 309 
 
 Mortimer could have been no lukewarm affair ; Mortimer 
 had always been devoted to her ; how could it have been 
 otherwise? And Blanche why, now that he thought 
 of it, Mortimer was as much her ideal as though she had 
 founded her ideal on Mortimer ! She was so fastidious, 
 he had often laughed at the little things that put her off 
 a man ; even so, nothing could put her off Keppel. They 
 understood each other in finer ways than he had ever 
 known ; it was too delicate and too subtly kind for him 
 to altogether grasp. But he was not jealous, not in the 
 ordinary way ; his faith was far too sure. Poor Blanche ! 
 His feelings were stirred to the depth, and he looked at 
 her as he used to look in that short delirious space of 
 time when they were first married, and when his fleeting 
 fancy was staple at least, for the time. Poor Blanche ! 
 She looked so sorrowful and pale, the beseeching look in 
 her eyes would haunt him for ever, and he wished he 
 could take her in his arms then and there as he used to 
 do. It was a long time since he had done it now ! But 
 Mortimer was dying, and, in the world of great men, 
 Mortimer was the greatest man he had ever known. 
 Poor Blanche indeed ! 
 
 She heard afterwards Mortimer Keppel lived for forty- 
 five minutes after he was thrown, so that she must have 
 knelt beside him for less than that short space of time ; 
 she could remember nothing herself, and took no count 
 of the moments. That he was going to leave her and 
 everything else in life he held so dear was too crushing 
 for her to face; heart and soul could not bear such 
 a bitter strain. It had come so suddenly, without mercy 
 or warning ; the meaning was very hard to seek. Did it
 
 310 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 always happen to those who were dearest ? Would it 
 not have happened if she had not loved him so ? 
 
 " Oh, Mortimer, my darling, my darling, it can't be 
 true ! You wouldn't be so cruel ! " 
 
 " Have they told you, dear ? Eough, isn't it, to part 
 so soon? We always counted on Friday night till 
 Monday morning for a week-end, and could never bear 
 to miss an hour." Then he sighed. " The pace was a 
 little too'good to last, I'm afraid ; but they've rung down 
 the curtain far too soon." 
 
 " No one ever loved you as I do," she murmured. 
 "Other people don't know what it means; your own 
 mother, who adored you, never even guessed." 
 
 He told her she had been all the world to him, and 
 the other broken words he whispered made her blush 
 with pride. Then he smiled, but he seemed to be tired 
 to death. 
 
 "Will they ever forgive me ? Angela and Mrs. Eddy, 
 I mean. If I had only known I would never have asked 
 them down." 
 
 Some wattle hurdles had been roughly piled together 
 to make a little shelter, and a tuft of furze that had 
 been pulled up at the same time helped to form a sort 
 of screen. Miles kept at a little distance, and the doctor 
 and one or two others remained within call; but the 
 Heythrops had always been Mortimer's closest friends, 
 and the rest of the crowd drew sympathetically away. 
 Mortimer knew he was dying, they explained to each 
 other, glad of anything normal to discuss ; but Miles was 
 afraid of breaking down, he couldn't bear the idea of 
 listening to his last words, and had begged Blanche to
 
 SATUEDAY 311 
 
 go instead a plucky woman Mrs. Heythrop an awful 
 trial for her ! 
 
 But Angela neither spoke nor listened to their re- 
 marks ; she had shrunk into a corner of the brake, and 
 still sobbed fitfully, with her face buried in her muff. 
 Her soft heart bled for Blanche and Mortimer. But 
 Blanche was there by his side ; that was something, and 
 would always be a comfort to remember Charlie had 
 died all alone. The old wound broke out again at 
 the remembrance of Charlie, and her tears fell fast. 
 She was glad she knew knew about Blanche and 
 Mortimer; mice had helped lions before this, and no 
 one could help Blanche but she. The others pitied her 
 much as they pitied themselves they none of them 
 could afford to lose so very good a friend ; Angela alone 
 realized what the tragedy meant. Blanche would not 
 speak ; it was not her way. If her heart broke she would 
 let it break in silence ; even so, it would ease her pain 
 a little to feel that Angela understood. She would speak 
 to her gently about Mortimer what a grand manner he 
 had, and what a distinguished face; bow sad to die 
 before his hair was grey ! Blanche would listen, she 
 would be sure to listen ; and then at last she might 
 cry ; it would be simpler and more natural then. But 
 Charlie had died all alone! She couldn't bear the 
 thought, not without some human sympathy. " If only 
 Miles was here, I could hold his hand," she said in the 
 forlorn voice of a lost child. 
 
 A thousand swords leapt from their scabbards ! All 
 that was man in every man present responded to the 
 appeal. But Welcome was sitting next her, dejected
 
 312 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 and sad, and she slipped her hand confidingly into 
 his. 
 
 No one even smiled. In a moment of such tension 
 ordinary forms were as nought ; they had all of them 
 become for the time almost as primitive as she. 
 
 Blanche had forgotten them all. Every tie and 
 association of her former life was swept from her brain, 
 the voice of the world sounded in her ears as though it 
 were miles and miles away, and when'some one brought 
 a pillow to put under Mortimer's head, she started 
 painfully. 
 
 The movement made him tighten his grasp. 
 "Blanche," he whispered, "I am dying a miserable 
 shiner too late now does it matter ? You will kiss 
 me when I die ? " 
 
 She kissed him again and again, softly and passion- 
 ately, and held his hand as though she could never 
 let it go. 
 
 " I am here, my darling. How could it matter now ? 
 Your sins are as white as snow." 
 
 " Have they covered me up ? Does it frighten you, 
 dearest ? I can't help dreaming the old dream. Blanche, 
 I wish you'd say it again." 
 
 She knew what he meant at once, and bent lower 
 still. 
 
 " You may never come back," she repeated softly. 
 " I've done with it all now what ! But I want to 
 die with your lips on mine. I'm game for a bit yet, 
 but I'll tell you when the time comes. Promise me, 
 Blanche."
 
 SATUEDAY 313 
 
 " I am close beside you ; I shall not go away. Can 
 you feel my hand ? Oh, my darling, my darling, are 
 you in pain ? " 
 
 He looked at her and smiled ; but his lips were 
 tightly drawn, and his smile was weary. 
 
 " It's easier to die than I thought, but it's queer, 
 Blanche ; I can't see anything but you." 
 
 " We're the only people in the world just now, and 
 you are my very own," she answered, as she pressed her 
 face to his. 
 
 Blanche, who was so proud, had become abject in 
 her devotion. 
 
 " Promise you won't forget me. I could stand a 
 good deal, but I couldn't stand being forgotten by 
 you." 
 
 "Forget you, beloved? I shall think of you every 
 day till I die. Forget you ? How could I forget ? " 
 
 " I'm not bucking, darling, but can you live without 
 me ? You know what I mean." His voice was growing 
 feebler, and the painful catch in his breath nearly broke 
 her heart. 
 
 " I can't think of any future, but I could never have 
 lived at all if I hadn't known you. You will always be 
 the dearest part of my life." 
 
 " But have I made things harder for you ? Don't 
 tell me I have done that." 
 
 " Everything in life will be bearable now. I shall 
 never mind anything again, dear." 
 
 " I'm glad it's Miles I'm very glad it's Miles," she 
 heard him murmur. She thought of it afterwards, but 
 at the time she scarcely understood.
 
 314 MORTIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 " I always wanted to die in the open, Blanche, 
 and I never could abide a funeral; mind you tell 
 them so. I want the station waggon and the old 
 white horse; any one will show you the way to the 
 churchyard." 
 
 So long as he spoke about Blanche he was clear 
 as ever, but directly he tried to grasp any other subject, 
 his mind began to wander at once. 
 
 Blanche was terribly distressed. " Everything just 
 as you wish, but not just yet. Mortimer, Mortimer, 
 wait a little longer, else you'll break my heart." 
 
 He scarcely knew her in this mood of abnegation. 
 " Do you remember how angry I used to be because 
 you would not let yourself go?" he whispered. "I 
 didn't like to tempt you then ; your heart was much too 
 soft and kind, and I knew you were afraid." He paused. 
 "I can tempt you now; it doesn't matter any more." 
 He paused again. "And no dream come true was ever 
 half so sweet." 
 
 She held him closer still. "Now you know," she 
 answered. " I wanted you to know." 
 
 She let out all her pent-up feelings at last in a 
 passion of love and endearment, calling him every 
 tender name she could think of, and hanging over him 
 closer still in most pathetic devotion. Everything she 
 had ever wanted to say she said now; every feeling 
 she had ever suppressed blossomed now like the rose. 
 She revealed herself fearlessly, down to the innermost 
 depth of her soul. 
 
 It put new life into Mortimer, and for some minutes 
 the ebbing tide ran strong in his veins once more.
 
 SATUEDAY 315 
 
 " Why, what a woman you are, Blanche ! Is this 
 what you have been keeping from me all this time ? It 
 is stronger than death, love like yours and mine." 
 
 But her heart told her a sorrier tale, and she 
 only went on stroking his brow and calling to him 
 gently again and again. A bird suddenly bereft of 
 its young cried in just the same way; it sounded 
 familiar to Mortimer, and puzzled him dimly, till he 
 remembered a boy, long ago in another life, with a 
 capful of fledglings, being pursued all through the wood 
 by a similar note of despair. 
 
 The light in his eyes burnt with all the glow of a 
 dying fire. 
 
 " You will make a man of me yet, dearest, if you go 
 on speaking in that voice. I shall cheat the doctor, 
 after all, so that I may hear all you have to say." 
 
 He was man enough still to know what it meant 
 coming from Blanche ; her caressing accents fell on his 
 ears like music. 
 
 " My love, how I shall make you blush when I recover ! 
 You don't suppose one of your precious words is lost 
 upon me ! I could never have stopped loving you, 
 Blanche, not if I had tried for a lifetime, and married 
 a score of wives, and gone to another hemisphere one 
 word from you in that voice, and all my mad devotion 
 would have come back, stronger ten thousand times 
 than before." 
 
 She could not speak, but her lightest touch was 
 balm to Mortimer. 
 
 " It seems so odd to think we are on earth, you and 
 I, and that soon I shall be elsewhere. How can it be
 
 316 MOETIMER KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 a better world, if you are no longer kneeling by my 
 side? Can't I come back and feel your kisses once 
 more ? " 
 
 "Heaven is not so far from earth as people think," 
 she told him, wondering at herself, "and the people 
 who taste bliss here know what it is they can look 
 forward to. You'll speak to me still, I shall often and 
 often seem to hear your voice you have always been so 
 divinely kind I shall have no one to care for me now ! " 
 She thought of his protecting, all-faithful love ; whether 
 he had been near or far, it had made a blessed thing 
 of her life. His love was never failing, and had often 
 reminded her of the Scotch song, " wert thou in the 
 cauld blast, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee " he could 
 never do enough, and there was nothing he would not 
 have done. " No one will care for me now, never again 
 in your way," she repeated. 
 
 The cry came from her very heart, for only those 
 who have been greatly cherished know what it is to 
 lose so great a love. 
 
 Mortimer complained but once, and then it was 
 more an apology than a murmur. 
 
 "I am dying so fast, darlin', do go on speaking. 
 Tell it me all again and again. I shall think I am 
 dead if I don't hear your voice." 
 
 She called softly to Miles ; she would not move from 
 her position, Keppel lay so much more easily when he 
 lay in her arms. 
 
 "Is there anything anything to keep him from 
 sinking ? " she beseeched him with pale, miserable eyes. 
 
 Miles shook his head. He came and knelt at
 
 SATUKDAY 317 
 
 Mortimer's other side; but the weight was nothing, 
 she said; she would not hear of Mortimer being 
 moved. 
 
 Miles turned away again, and went back to his 
 restless pacing to and fro, and to and fro. Blanche 
 was more fit for the task than he. 
 
 She whispered to Mortimer again; he heard her 
 and smiled at once. 
 
 " Where's all your pride, dear heart ? You've given 
 yourself away right and left ! " he said, in the old 
 bantering way that she loved so well. 
 
 But his voice was huskier now, and the pain in her 
 heart was intolerable. 
 
 " Darling are you there ? Only you, Blanche I 
 don't want any one else." 
 
 " No one else, dearest, only me. Can't you hear my 
 voice ? " 
 
 There was a longer pause; it seemed to hurt him to- 
 breathe, and he did not hold her hand so close. Then 
 he looked up at her with a face of such amazing gladness 
 that she thought he was well again, and all the agony a 
 dream. 
 
 " You always promised if I was dying ! Time's up, 
 darling kiss me quick." 
 
 But her lips were on his face before ever he had 
 done speaking. 
 
 " Again again," she heard him murmur ; they were 
 his last words. 
 
 Something had happened, what, she could not 
 comprehend, and she still knelt on. 
 
 " Good-bye, good-bye," she caUed after him, hoping,
 
 318 MOETIMEK KEPPEL'S WEEK-END 
 
 in a dull way, her voice would bridge the sudden gulf, 
 for his hand was still warm in her own. Every one died, 
 of course, the happiest and the brightest ; they were 
 only there with that one end in view but not so quickly, 
 while life was still so strong no one had ever died so 
 cruelly before. She stooped down to kiss him once 
 more, and as she did so, the violets he had given her in 
 the unconscious sunshine of the morning, fell from her 
 coat in a shower. She did not pick them up, but 
 arranged them gently where they fell. Then she 
 smoothed his dark hair with a touch a mother might 
 have envied, and spread her handkerchief proudly over 
 his face ; no other eyes but hers should see the tender- 
 ness of his farewell smile. One word is too often 
 profaned, but neither she nor Mortimer had ever 
 profaned it. 
 
 " Good Lord ! Blanche, I never saw a man die like 
 that. What could have made him look so glad ? " 
 Miles gasped in an awed sort of way, as he helped her 
 to gather up the fallen flowers. 
 
 Blanche turned a perfectly still, perfectly colourless, 
 face towards her husband, whose own face was all wet 
 with tears. It would be a long time before she broke 
 down and cried ; but she had never cared for him so 
 much in her life as then, when he stood beside her with 
 his careless eyes full of tears for Mortimer Keppel, and 
 she remembered it long afterwards. 
 
 " If it had been any one but Mortimer ! " he con- 
 tinued ; and the blank misery in his voice sounded in 
 her ears like an echo of that very old lament, " Oh, 
 Absalom my son, my son." Some people one loved and
 
 SATUKDAY 319 
 
 lost and in time forgot, others now and then were 
 different nothing ever made up, and no one again could 
 ever be half so dear. There were still no tears in her 
 eyes, but the pain in her heart would be there for ever, 
 and the simplest words seemed to express it best. 
 " If it had been any one but Mortimer ! " 
 She held out her hand Mortimer had said he was 
 glad it was Miles, if at such a moment she could be 
 said to be glad of anything, she was glad it was Miles 
 too. 
 
 "Take me away with you, Miles," she said; and 
 another gentle flutter of violets fell to the ground. 
 
 Death is the most irrevocable thing in the world, 
 but it is not the saddest not quite.
 
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