Part 19 (1/2)

Oh, my dear, forgive me! And oh, come to me through this darkness and explain what I have done wrong; explain what it is you have to face; tell me what has come between us. For indeed, if you leave me, I shall die.”

Myra now felt certain that the fault was hers; and she suffered less than when she had thought it his. Yet she was sorely perplexed. For, if the Earl of Airth and Monteith might write himself down ”Jim Airth” in the Moorhead Inn visitors' book, and be blameless, why might not Lady Ingleby of Shenstone take an equally simple name, without committing an unpardonable offence?

Myra pondered, wept, and reasoned round in a circle, growing more and more bewildered and perplexed.

But by-and-by she went indoors and tried to remove all traces of recent tears. She must not let her sorrow make her selfish. Ronald and Billy would be wanting tea, and expecting her to join them.

Meanwhile the two friends, their rackets under their arms, had strolled through the shrubbery at the front of the house, to the beautiful tennis lawns, long renowned as being the most perfect in the neighbourhood. Many a tournament had there been fought out, in presence of a gay crowd, lining the courts, beneath the shady chestnut trees.

But on this day the place seemed sad and deserted. They played one set, in silence, hardly troubling to score; then walked to the net and stood close together, one on either side.

”We must tell her,” said Ronald, examining his racket, minutely.

”I suppose we must,” agreed Billy, reluctantly. ”We could not let her marry him.”

”Duffer! you don't suppose he would dream of marrying her? He will come back, and tell her himself to-morrow. We must tell her, to spare her that interview. She need never see him again.”

”I say, Ron! Did you see her go quite pink when she told us his name? And in spite of the trouble to-day, she looks half a dozen years younger than when she went away. You know she does, old man!”

”Oh, that's the rest-cure,” explained Ronnie, but without much conviction. ”Rest-cures always have that effect. That's why women go in for them. Did you ever hear of a man doing a rest-cure?”

”Well, I've heard of _you_, at Overdene,” said Billy, maliciously.

”Rot! You don't call staying with the d.u.c.h.ess a rest-cure? Good heavens, man! You get about the liveliest time of your life when her Grace of Meldrum undertakes to nurse you. Did you hear about old Pilberry the parson, and the toucan?”

”Yes, shut up. You've told me that unholy story twice already. I say, Ronnie! We are begging the question. Who's to tell her?”

”You,” said Ronald decidedly. ”She cares for you like a mother, and will take it more easily from you. Then I can step in, later on, with--er--_manly_ comfort.”

”Confound you!” said Billy, highly indignant. ”I'm not such a kid as you make out. But I'll tell you this:--If I thought it would be for her real happiness, and could be pulled through, I would tell her I did it; then find Airth to-morrow and tell him I had told her so.”

”a.s.s!” said Ronnie, affectionately. ”As if that could mend matters. Don't you know the earl? He was against the hus.h.i.+ng-up business from the first.

He would simply punch your head for daring to lie to her, and go and tell her the exact truth himself. Besides, at this moment, he is thinking more of his side of the question, than of hers. We fellows have a way of doing that. If he had thought first of her, he would have stayed with her and seen her through, instead of rus.h.i.+ng off like this, leaving her heart-broken and perplexed.”

”Confound him!” said Billy, earnestly.

”I say, Billy! You know women.” It was the first time Ronnie had admitted this. ”Don't you think--if a woman turned in horror from a man she had loved, she might--if he were tactfully on the spot--turn _to_ a man who had long loved her, and of whom she had undoubtedly been fond?”

”My knowledge of women,” declaimed Billy, dramatically, ”leads me to hope that she would fall into the arms of the man who loved her well enough to risk incurring her displeasure by bravely telling her himself that which she ought----”

”Confound you!” whispered Ronnie, who had glanced past Billy, ”Shut up!--The meshes of this net are better than the other, and the new patent sockets undoubtedly keep it----”

”You patient people!” said Lady Ingleby's voice, just behind Billy.

”Don't you badly need tea?”

”We were admiring the new net,” said Ronald Ingram, frowning at Billy, who with his back to Lady Ingleby, continued admiring the new net, helplessly speechless!

There were brave attempts at merriment during tea. Ronald told all the latest Overdene stories; then described the annual concert which had just taken place.