Part 21 (2/2)

Lionel had been told to suspect, and at first found the task no harder than you or I should find it But apart froo suspicion--viz, the physical and ht--every day made it more difficult to sustain the suspicious attitude The early surprises--the ”out of bounds” rule, the duave hie But usage ht always had an explanation The servants had already been accounted for; the prohibition of the village h of course he was not satisfied with this), her own seclusion he guessed, from a hint here and there, was due to a disappointment in early youth But it was really custom that staled the infinite variety of the first surprises; he had to accept the routine of The Quiet House, and could not be expected to whip up a daily supply of suspicions One can i peacefully and asking his jailer, ”What is it to-day, Cedric? A tooth out, the strappado, or the rack? Just a tooth? Good”

The analogy is anything but exact, for Lionel did not get a succession of thrills The daily wonder as to _why_ she forbade hie; _why_ she did not receive any local God, parson, squire, or doctor; _why_ she did this or that, dwindled imperceptibly He did not consciously relax: he had to adjust hirew less laborious, and soon was in soether

Not that he abandoned his vigilance Beatrice had enjoined him with unnecessary and vain repetition to watch her sister He gladly obeyed

The English language is susceptible of matize on the precise value to be attached to the word ”watch!”? Lionel ”watched” all the tiht was very different fro, save that Winifred Arkwright was a delightful creature, with hair of such and such a color and softness--eyes of such and such a sweetness, and so forth Things, you observe, of no ih a chronicler is bound to state theood friends There was no hint of boredo prolonged a little queerly

Lionel, youBeatrice (who had not written again, though he sent a daily bulletin to London), and was in no hurry to study fresh characters It was no ill reward of virtue to find a replica of Beatrice to keep his devotion alive A brutal phrase,--too brutal His devotion was there, hidden below the surface, but necessarily quiescent as long as Lukos lived That ht be for years; therefore, why not sun himself in Beatrice's rays by proxy?

A statue can partly coraph is better than nothing But a real woht hi to sho strong and faithful he was He did not s

A lay figurewas shethat peaceful fortnight He faced it without a blush, and up to the present had always been able to give an affirmative answer Hisin her letter enabled hihtly dally with the rose-weaved chains He laughed at the warning: he was a er than his fellows; but fancy being in danger of falling in love with Miss Arkwright! In love--real, genuine loveabsurd! Why, he was not in love with Beatrice Was he? Nno He was a free man--hurrah!

At the end of ten days he could utter the , whoain soon But in love? No In love with Miss Arkwright, then? (In his mind he now called her Winifred) No Of course not Absurd Was she not a lay figure?

Stay!--that was hardly the choicest of expressions, hardly respectful or considerate She was a delightful lady whom it was his painful duty to watch But one ure: that is crude, elerain of truth, one adar herd ”A peerless proxy” would be

And the proxy, what of her? How had she fared during her unusual fortnight? Patently, anything but ill Under the sun of Lionel's syin coldness ether on every subject--men and women, books, art, music Their views often clashed, but interest is sustained by conflict; coreement makes conversation a superfluity Their conversation rarely descended to sh more than once it became almost a quarrel

A quarrel of friends, be it understood,--a quarrel that left no bitterness behind, butmore stored with interest, explanation, withdrawal, even partial conversion Their chief debatable country was the stage; and at last Lionel had the happiness of winning the ade had possibly ireat admission for her! He paid his debt handsomely by a proht voluave him the book next day Alas! it now reposes in the present historian's drawer, the leaves still innocent of the paper-knife

So a pretty co up between a cloistered lady and an ineligible worldling The latter had never a penny, had not so long ago vowed himself to the service of another, declared upon his honor that his heart was no one's, lived for the moment on a false-won hospitality

What would be the end of such a revolting character? A queer sort of hero, in very truth; but the world is an asylu happiness by a host of roads You who condemn the road of Lionel are asked to remember the stony paths he had trodden without complaint Let him settle any difficulties of conscience for hiht of so-called happiness If it be not in accordance with your ideas of the suht in an oasis need not be grudged when the desert lies behind and before If he has not learned wisdoentlemen, and look forward to a rare feast of disillusion and disenchantrace, even a prison if we are lucky and have patience And if you can spare a little pickle for the rod, be good enough to pass it up!

As for the other characters in this rural comedy--or melodrama if you prefer it--their lives have been equally uneventful during the last fortnight Tony Wild and Mr ”Bangs” are still occupying roo at the lack of events They have allowed it to be understood that they are on a holiday, seeking peace They have thoroughly explored the neighborhood, and failed to find a hint of interest in any of the Shereling inhabitants Even the tap-rooher society is lacking in the village The squire is away, and haolf, spending the rest of his ti all overtures of friendshi+p There is the vicarage, of course, and Mrs Peters has been prevailed upon to invite them to dinner, for the vicar is a friendly soul, anxious to make the most of the social crumbs dropped rarely in his path Tony and Robert have dined there, and been round two or three times to smoke a pipe and inspect the roses; but Mrs Peters does not diffuse an atmosphere of comfort, and the vicar himself is an exhausted fountain after an hour A kindly, cheerful little man; but sixty ht find a longer period congenial, but he is perpetually ill-at-ease under his cogno himself, inclined to blush without apparent cause Indeed, if it were not for Tony, Robert iven up the pursuit already Not that he o back home as yet: liberty is still precious; and adventures, or at least unfettered repose, hton or Eastbourne before he returns to nonentity But is it worth while waiting at Shereling, where the mysterious Billy is never seen, where the re fainter? It looks very uished: how can he hope to blow it into flame once more? Tony, the incoest: he only says ”Patience,” and Robert is growing restive

But why does Tony depart so far from his usual attitude as to say ”Patience”? As a rule, an adventure or an experience can hold him but for a day or two,--a week is alht, he still says ”Patience”--unruffled, imperturbable, productive of threadbare platitudes as to the building of Rome, apparently hopeful The si divinity again, and he hates being balked

In a word, the pair of them had waited, watched and spied for fourteen days without result There had been night vigils as well as by day, but nothing had been learned After dusk set in they had so in a ditch near the front gate, Robert at the back The gossip of Miss Arkwright's nocturnalon this But never a ht they watched till dawn broke clear and stark, but two colds in the head were all that cas were a failure

Miss Arkwright and ”Billy” ht never have existed The servants were useless Only Forbes and the gardener issued from The Quiet House, after their day's as over: both were duenious Tony produced a pencil and paper,half-a-crown for a lure, the ns that he could not use a pencil Forbes was of stouter stuff Tony waylaid hihly disheartened by this tiardener so sht have been playing a part), Tony unmasked his batteries ”Look here, my man,”

he said bluntly, ”you are a servant at The Quiet House I want so to pay for it If you'll just write down answers to a few questions I'll give you a five-pound note” Forbes'

eyes glistened, and he took the pencil Tony's heart leaped as he saw hi He snatched the paper and read, ”I am sorry, sir, but I can not write” Tony swore, as Forbes passedbeaten by a servant

To-day they were at the vicarage for tea, and tea alone The hospitable vicar had suggested dinner--lunch as a _pis-aller_ But his wife said, ”No,” and he was obliged to submit The previous dinner had caused domestic friction, and Mrs Peters did not mean to run any further risks She was a lady who had the not wholly unworthy wish to make a fair show in the flesh: they entertained seldos well Soup, chicken (boiled or roast), cold la the blush), at least three sweets, and certainly cheese-straws,--these were the least a self-respecting wo a sensible man, would have been quite pleased to ”present” (like Mr Frohman) a simple meal Soup, a joint with the usual supporters of potatoes and boiled celery--his own failing--a bramble tart, and a bit of Stilton,--these were the cates he dee pride of his lady forbade so inelegant a repast ”I like ht_ to be done and _are_ done, Charles,” she said in a final tone: ”I will _not_ have people saying that the vicarage ” and the rest

The vicar had given ith a sigh, reserving himself for the battle he knew must follow

It had come at once Mrs Peters, profuse to lavishness over the more solid iteht to be wine, of course Though she was a teetotaler herself, still she knew that her guests should be offered the juice of the grape But on the desirability of spending large su views ”You need not _drea rocer's this -headed He grew rigid at the words ”invalid port” ”No, Clara,” he said resolutely; ”I won't have that at any price--even the grocer's I believe in good things, or none at all I'd sooner drink water than poor wine We can't afford good port, but we _can_ afford good whisky or cider Those it shall be” He was deaf to reason, though his wife begged him, with tears in her eyes, not to be so inconsiderate

Cider it had been, and Mrs Peters had felt asha deeply of the plebeian beverage gave no cos, of course, and she resented the unspoken charity Besides, she did not greatly care about her guests Mr Wild see rated Mr Bangs was clearly of inferior breeding and did not see at the ht Mrs Peters grudgingly, ”but he is certainly not used to the society of gentle-people I do wish Charles would not ” The dinner was not a success, though the vicar enjoyed the post-prandial s our muttons to return to them) they were at tea to-day Or rather, they had finished tea and were taking idly on the lawn The vicar was lying co to color a meerschaum Mrs Peters was busy with e too, contributing their quota to the conversation To co holes destined to receive the posts of a pergola Mrs Peters'

eye wandered froidly on him

”By the way, Charles,” she said, ”did you ever speak to Brown about that young wo woman?” asked the vicar lazily Mrs Peters recounted the incident