Part 11 (2/2)

”I can a.s.sure you,” he replied, ”that you might trade your lawful right in the lady for a twopenny whistle and not lose by the bargain.”

”And what about my marriage?” says the Marchioness--”the marriage which was never to be legalized?--'twas merely that you might sell me afterward, like so much mutton, was it, you jumping-jack--!”

But I spare you her ensuing gloss upon this text.

The man heard her through, without a muscle twitching. ”It is more than probable,” he conceded, ”that I have merited each and every fate your Ladys.h.i.+p is pleased to invoke. Indeed, I consider the extent of your distresses to be equaled only by that of your vocabulary. Yet by ordinary the heart of woman is not obdurate, and upon one lady here I have some claim--”

Dorothy had drawn away from him, with an odd and frightened cry. ”Not upon me, sir! I never saw you except across the footlights. You know I never saw you except across the footlights, Mr. Vanringham!”

Fixedly he regarded her, with a curious yet not unpleasing smile. ”I am the more unfortunate,” he said, at last. ”Nay, 'twas to Lady Allonby I addressed my appeal.”

The person he named had been whispering with George Erwyn, but now she turned toward the actor. ”Heavens!” said Lady Allonby, ”to think I should be able to repay you this soon! La, of course, you are at liberty, Mr.

Vanringham, and we may treat the whole series of events as a frolic suited to the day. For I am under obligations to you, and, besides, your punishment would breed a scandal, and, above all, anything is preferable to being talked about in the wrong way.”

Having reasons of my own, I was elated by the upshot of this rather remarkable affair. Yet in justice to my own perspicacity, I must declare that it occurred to me, at this very time, that Mr. Vanringham had proven himself not entirely worthy of unlimited confidence, I reflected, however, that I had my instructions, and that, if a bad king may prove a good husband, a knave may surely carry a letter with fidelity, the more so if it be to his interest to do it.

VIII

I rode back to Tunbridge in the coach, with Dorothy at my side and with Gerald rec.u.mbent upon the front seat,--where, after ten minutes' driving the boy very philanthropically fell asleep.

”And you have not,” I immediately a.s.serted--”after all, you have not given me the answer which was to-night to decide whether I be of all mankind the most fortunate or the most miserable. And 'tis nearing twelve.”

”What choice have I?” she murmured; ”after to-night is it not doubly apparent that you need some one to take care of you? And, besides, this is your eighth proposal, and the ninth I had always rather meant to accept, because I have been in love with you for two whole weeks.”

My heart stood still. And shall I confess that for an instant my wits, too, paused to play the gourmet with my emotions? She sat beside me in the darkness, you understand, waiting, mine to touch. And everywhere the world was filled with beautiful, kind people, and overhead G.o.d smiled down upon His world, and a careless seraph had left open the door of Heaven, so that quite a deal of its splendor flooded the world about us. And the snoring of Gerald was now inaudible because of a stately music which was playing somewhere.

”Frank--!” she breathed. And I noted that her voice was no less tender than her lips.

IV

THE RHYME TO PORRINGER

_As Played at Tunbridge Wells, April 2, 1750_

”_Ye G.o.ds, why are not hearts first paired above, But still some interfere in others' love, Ere each for each by certain marks are known?

You mould them up in haste, and drop them down, And while we seek what carelessly you sort, You sit in state, and make our pains your sport._”

DRAMATIS PERSONae

CAPTAIN AUDAINE, an ingenious, well-accomplished gentleman.

LORD HUMPHREY DEGGE, an airy young gentleman, loves Miss Allonby for her money.

VANRINGHAM, emissary and confederate of Audaine.

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