Part 29 (1/2)

”Tell her that I love Hugh,” laughed the girl defiantly. ”Tell her that I intend to defeat all her clever intrigues and sly devices!”

His countenance now showed that he was angry. He and Lady Rans...o...b..thoroughly understood each other. He admired the girl, and her mother had a.s.sured him her affection for Hugh Henfrey was but a pa.s.sing fancy.

This stubborn outburst was to him a complete revelation.

”I have no knowledge of any intrigue, Dorise,” he said in that bland, superior manner which always irritated her. She knew that a dozen mothers with eligible feminine enc.u.mbrances were trying to angle him, and that Lady Rans...o...b..was greatly envied by them. But to be the wife of the self-conscious a.s.s--well, as she has already bluntly told him, she would die rather than become Mrs. George Sherrard.

”Intrigue!” the girl retorted. ”Why, from first to last the whole thing is a plot between my mother and yourself. Please give me credit for just a little intelligence. First, I despise you as a coward. During the war you crept into a little clerks.h.i.+p in the Home Office in order to save your precious skin, while Hugh went to the front and risked his life flying a 'bomber' over the enemy's lines. You were a miserable stay-at-home, hiding in your little bolt-hole in Whitehall when the Zepps came over, while Hugh Henfrey fought for his King and for Britain.

Now I am quite frank, Mr. Sherrard. That's why I despise you!” and the girl's pale face showed two pink spots in the centre of her cheeks.

”Really,” he said in that same superior tone which he so constantly a.s.sumed. ”I must say that you are the reverse of polite, Miss Dorise,”

and his colour heightened.

”I am! And I intend to be so!” she cried in a frenzy, for all her affection for Hugh had in those moments been redoubled. Her lover was accused and had no chance of self-defence. ”Go back to my mother,” she went on. ”Tell her every word I have said and embroider it as much as you like. Then you can both put your wits together a little further.

But, remember, I shall exert my own woman's wits against yours. And as soon as you feel it practicable, I hope you will leave Blairglas. And further, if you have not left by noon to-morrow, I will tell my maid, Duncan, the whole story of this sinister plot to part me from Hugh. She will spread it, I a.s.sure you. Maids gossip--and to a purpose when their mistresses will it so.”

”But Dorise--”

”Enough! Mr. Sherrard. I prefer to walk up to the Castle by myself.

Murray will bring up the rods. Please tell my mother what I say when you get back,” she added. ”The night train from Perth to London leaves at nine-forty to-night,” she said with biting sarcasm.

Then turning, she began to ascend the steep path which led from the river bank into a cornfield and through the wood, while the man stood and bit his lip.

”H'm!” he growled beneath his breath. ”We shall see!--yes, we shall see!”

FOURTEENTH CHAPTER

RED DAWN

That night when Dorise, in a pretty, pale-blue evening gown, entered the great, old panelled dining-room rather late for dinner, her mother exclaimed petulantly:

”How late you are, dear! Mr. Sherrard has had a telegram recalling him to London. He has to catch the nine-something train from Perth.”

”Have you?” she asked the man who was odious to her. ”I'm so sorry I'm late, but that Mackenzie girl called. They are getting up a bazaar for the old people down in the village, and we have to help it, I suppose.

Oh! these bazaars, sales of work, and other little excuses for extracting s.h.i.+llings from the pockets of everybody! They are most wearying.”

”She called on me last week,” said Lady Rans...o...b.. ”Newte told her I was not at home.”

The old-fas.h.i.+oned butler, John Newte, a white-haired, rosy-faced man, who had seen forty years' service with the ducal owner of Blairglas, served the dinner in his own stately style. Sir Richard had been a good master, but things had never been the same since the castle had pa.s.sed into its new owner's hands.

Dorise endeavoured to be quite affable to the smooth-haired man seated before her, expressing regret that he was called away so suddenly, while he, on his part, declared that it was ”awful hard luck,” as he had been looking forward to a week's good sport on the river.

”Do come back, George,” Lady Rans...o...b..urged. ”Get your business over and get back here for the weekend.”

”I'll try,” was Sherrard's half-hearted response, whereat Newte entered to announce that the car was ready.

Then he bade mother and daughter adieu, and went out.