Part 52 (1/2)

”Margaret!” says he. ”Are you bent on dying an old maid?”

Miss Knollys flushes; she turns aside.

”What an odious word!” says she.

She walks deliberately into the drawing-room behind her. Neilson still stands leaning over the balcony--a slow and distinctly satisfied smile crosses his features.

CHAPTER II.

HOW t.i.tA COMMITS A GREAT FOLLY, THOUGH LITTLE IS THE SIN THAT LIES THEREIN. AND HOW MARGARET TRIES TO MAKE PEACE, AND WHAT COMES OF IT.

Breakfast is nearly over--an uncomfortable breakfast, with only a host to guide it--the hostess had put in no appearance. This would be nothing if the plea of headache had been urged, but headache had been out of it altogether. In fact, Lady Rylton had gone out riding at eight o'clock with her cousin, Mr. Hescott, and has not yet come back, though the clock points at ten-thirty.

Sir Maurice had made very light of it. He had asked Mrs. Bethune to pour out the tea, and had said that t.i.ta would be back presently.

But everyone can see that he is upset and angry, and Margaret, noting it all, feels her heart grow cold within her.

As a fact, Rylton is feeling something more than anger. Something akin to fear. Where is she--the girl he had married, meaning to be true to her if nothing else? He had questioned her maid very casually, very unconcernedly, and she had told him that her mistress had gone out riding this morning about eight o'clock with Mr.

Hescott. His questions had been so clever, so altogether without anxiety, that the maid had believed in him, and saw nothing in his words to dwell upon later.

Yet Rylton's heart had seemed to cease beating as she answered him.

She had gone riding with Hescott. With Hescott! Will she ever come back?

t.i.ta's face, when she had left him that last night, is before him now. t.i.ta's determination not to accept the olive branch he offered her yesterday is before him too. What if she----

And, in truth, t.i.ta _had_ been angry. Her spirit had been roused.

His open declaration that he believed her capable of carrying on a flirtation with her cousin had hurt her more than she cared to confess even to herself. It was so silly--so unjust! She--_she!_

And he! What of him? Everything that his mother had told her of his affection for Marian grew, all at once, fresh in her mind. How did he then _dare _to speak to _her_ of inconstancy? He--who had been false to her from the very beginning. When he had spoken to her to-day, as she pa.s.sed him on her way to the garden, she had felt as though she could hardly bring herself to answer him--and always revenge was in her mind. Revenge--to show him how little she cared for his censures.

When, therefore, Hescott during the evening asked her to go for a ride with him before breakfast next morning, she had said yes quickly--so quickly, that Hescott foolishly believed she meant more than a readiness to ride in the early morning. Did she wish to be _with_ him? A mad hope made his heart warm.

As for t.i.ta--she thought only of that small revenge. She would go for a ride with Tom, without telling Maurice one word about it. She could easily be back in time for breakfast, and no one, therefore, would be annoyed, except Maurice! It seemed _delightful_ to annoy Maurice!

The little revenge hardly seems so delightful now, however, as she springs from her horse, and running into the hall, followed by Hescott, sees by the clock there that it is just half-past ten.

”Oh! you should have _told_ me,” cries she, most unjustly turning upon Tom.

”Good heavens! How could I? I didn't know myself. I told you I had left my watch on my dressing-table.”

”Well, we are in for it now, any way,” says she, with a little nervous laugh.

She walks straight to the breakfast-room, and, throwing open the door, goes in.

”I'm so sorry!” says she at once.

She gives a little general, beaming smile all round. Only Margaret can see the nervousness of it. She had taken off her hat in the hall, and her pretty, short air is lying loosely on her forehead.