Part 18 (1/2)
”I'll take what I want, not ask for it.”
”Why, now you brag! And if there is not in me what monsieur wants?”
”So much the worse for us both. But you should have thought of that before.”
”Faith, Harry, you take it sombrely.” She made a wry mouth at him. ”Pluck up heart. I vow I'll satisfy you.”
”You'll not deny me anything you have.”
She paused a moment. ”Amen, so be it. And must we never smile again?”
”I wonder”--he took her hands; ”I wonder, will you be smiling to-morrow when I am away to France.”
”Oh, are you still set on that fancy?” She gave a contemptuous laugh.
”Prithee, Harry, shall I like you the better for waiting till you have French lace at your neck and a frenchified air?”
”You'll please to wait till I bring Miss Lambourne a fellow who has done something more than snuffle over a servitor's books. I want to prove myself, Alison.”
”You have proved yourself on me, sir. What, am I a lean wench in despair to hunger for a snuffling servitor? If you were that, I were not for you.
But I know you better, G.o.d help me, my Lord Lucifer. Why then, take the goods the G.o.ds provide you and say grace over me.” Harry shook his head, smiling. ”Lord, it's a mule! Pray what do you look to do in France?”
”I am pledged to my father and his policies--to go poking behind the curtains of the war and deal with the go-betweens of princes.”
”So. You talk big. Well, I like to hear it. What is the business?”
”My father, if you believe him, has Marlborough's secrets in his pocket and is sent to chaffer for him. You may guess where and why. Queen Anne hath a brother.”
Her eyes sparkled. ”You like the adventure, Harry?”
”Egad, I begin to think so.”
”I love you for that!” she cried, and it was the first time she spoke the word. ”Why then, first go with me to church and call me wife!”
He drew in his breath. ”By G.o.d, do you mean that?”
”Why, don't you mean me honourably?” She gave an unsteady laugh, her eyes mistily kind.
He sprang at her.
CHAPTER XI
ABSENCE OF MR. WAVERTON
It was always in after life alleged by Mr. Hadley that his steady interest in the family of his uncle was nothing but a desire to keep the old gentleman out of mischief. Sir John Burford was indeed of a temper too irascible to be safe with his bucolically English mind: a man who in throwing tankards at his servants and challenges at his friends was a source of continuous anxiety to his reasonable kinsfolk. But he had also a daughter.
She received the benevolent Mr. Hadley when on the morning after the explosions in Alison's house he came to see whether Sir John was still dangerous or his daughter any thinner. It was the latter purpose which he professed to Susan Burford. She was not annoyed. In her cradle she had been instructed that she was a jolly, fat girl, and through life she accepted the status, like every other which was given her, with great good humour. She was, in fact, no fatter than serves to give a tall woman an air of genial well-being. It was conjectured by her friends that her father, needing all his irascibility for himself, had allowed her to inherit only his physical qualities. She had indeed the largeness of Sir John and his open countenance. Her supreme equanimity perhaps came from her mother. She was by a dozen years at least younger than Mr. Hadley, and always thought him a very clever boy.
”Sir John is gone out to the pigs, Mr. Hadley. Perhaps you'll go too,”