"But when did you arrive?" she whispered, scarcely knowing how to utter the words in her excessive happiness.

He took her upon his arm and began to pace the room with her while he explained. There was an attempt at excuse for his prolonged absence--for Val Elster had returned from his duties in Vienna in May, and it was now August, and he had lingered through the intervening time in London, enjoying himself--but that was soon glossed over; and he told her how his brother was coming down on the morrow with a houseful of guests, and he, Val, had offered to go before them with the necessary instructions. He did not say _why_ he had offered to do this; that his debts had become so pressing he was afraid to show himself longer in London. Such facts were not for the ear of that fair girl, who trusted him as the truest man she knew under heaven.

"What have you been doing, Anne?"

He pointed to the maps, and Miss Ashton laughed.

"Mrs. Graves was here yesterday; she is very clever, you know; and when something was being said about the course of ships out of England, I made some dreadful mistakes. She took me up sharply, and papa looked at me sharply--and the result is, I have to do a heap of maps. Please tell me if it's right, Percival?"

She held up her pencilled work of the morning. He was laughing.

"What mistakes did you make, Anne?"

"I am not sure but I said something about an Indiaman, leaving the London Docks, having to pa.s.s Scarborough," she returned demurely. "It was quite as bad."

"Do you remember, Anne, being punished for persisting, in spite of the slate on the wall and your nursery-governess, that the Mediterranean lay between Scotland and Ireland? Miss Jevons wanted to give you bread and water for three days. How's that prig Graves?" he added rather abruptly.

Anne Ashton laughed, blushing slightly. "He is just as you left him; very painstaking and efficient in the parish, and all that, but, oh, so stupid in some things! Is the map right?"

"Yes, it's right. I'll help you with the rest. If Dr. Ashton--"

"Why, Val! Is it you? I heard Lord Hartledon had come down."

Percival Elster turned. A lad of seventeen had come bounding in at the window. It was Dr. Ashton's eldest living son, Arthur. Anne was twenty-one. A son, who would have been nineteen now, had died; and there was another, John, two years younger than Arthur.

"How are you, Arthur, boy?" cried Val. "Edward hasn't come. Who told you he had?"

"Mother Gum. I have just met her."

"She told you wrong. He will be down to-morrow. Is that Dr. Ashton?"

Attracted perhaps by the voices, Dr. and Mrs. Ashton, who were then out on the lawn, came round to the window. Percival Elster grasped a hand of each, and after a minute or two's studied coldness, the doctor thawed. It was next to impossible to resist the genial manner, the winning attractions of the young man to his face. But Dr. Ashton could not approve of his line of conduct; and had sore doubts whether he had done right in allowing him to become the betrothed of his dearly-loved daughter.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COUNTESS-DOWAGER.

The guests had arrived, and Hartledon was alive with bustle and lights.

The first link in the chain, whose fetters were to bind more than one victim, had been forged. Link upon link; a heavy, despairing burden no hand could lift; a burden which would have to be borne for the most part in dread secrecy and silence.

Mirrable had exerted herself to good purpose, and Mirrable was capable of it when occasion needed. Help had been procured from Calne, and on the Friday evening several of the Hartledon servants arrived from the town-house. "None but a young man would have put us to such a rout,"

quoth Mirrable, in her privileged freedom; "my lord and lady would have sent a week's notice at least." But when Lord Hartledon arrived on the Sat.u.r.day evening with his guests, Mirrable was ready for them.

She stood at the entrance to receive them, in her black-silk gown and lace cap, its broad white-satin strings falling on either side the bunch of black ringlets that shaded her thin face. Who, to look at her quick, sharp countenance, with its practical sense, her active frame, her ready speech, her general capability, would believe her to be sister to that silly, dreaming Mrs. Gum? But it was so. Lord Hartledon, kind, affable, unaffected as ever was his brother Percival, shook hands with her heartily in the eyes of his guests before he said a word of welcome to them; and one of those guests, a remarkably broad woman, with a red face, a wide snub nose, and a front of light flaxen hair, who had stepped into the house leaning on her host's arm--having, in fact, taken it unasked, and seemed to be a.s.suming a great deal of authority--turned round to stare at Mirrable, and screwed her little light eyes together for a better view.

"Who is she, Hartledon?"

"Mrs. Mirrable," answered his lordship rather shortly. "I think you must have seen her before. She has been Hartledon's mistress since my mother died," he rather pointedly added, for he saw incipient defiance in the old lady's countenance.

"Oh, Hartledon's head servant; the housekeeper, I presume," cried she, as majestically as her harsh voice allowed her to speak. "Perhaps you'll tell her who I am, Hartledon; and that I have undertaken to preside here for a little while."

"I believe Mrs. Mirrable knows you, ma'am," spoke up Percival Elster, for Lord Hartledon had turned away, and was lost amongst his guests. "You have seen the Countess-Dowager of Kirton, Mirrable?"

The countess-dowager faced round upon the speaker sharply.

"Oh, it's _you_, Val Elster? Who asked you to interfere? I'll see the rooms, Mirrable, and the arrangements you have made. Maude, where are you? Come with me."

A tall, stately girl, with handsome features, raven hair and eyes, and a brilliant colour, extricated herself from the crowd. It was Lady Maude Kirton. Mirrable went first; the countess-dowager followed, talking volubly; and Maude brought up the rear. Other servants came forward to see to the rest of the guests.

The most remarkable quality observable in the countess-dowager, apart from her great breadth, was her restlessness. She seemed never still for an instant; her legs had a fidgety, nervous movement in them, and in moments of excitement, which were not infrequent, she was given to executing a sort of war-dance. Old she was not; but her peculiar graces of person, her rotund form, her badly-made front of flaxen curls, which was rarely in its place, made her appear so. A bold, scheming, unscrupulous, vulgar-minded woman, who had never considered other people's feelings in her life, whether equals or inferiors. In her day she must have been rather tall--nearly as tall as that elegant Maude who followed her; but her astounding width caused her now to appear short.

She went looking into the different rooms as shown to her by Mirrable, and chose the best for herself and her daughter.

"Three en suite. Yes, that will be the thing, Mirrable. Lady Maude will take the inner one, I will occupy this, and my maid the outer. Very good.

Now you may order the luggage up."

"But my lady," objected Mirrable, "these are the best rooms in the house; and each has a separate entrance, as you perceive. With so many guests to provide for, your maid cannot have one of these rooms."

"What?" cried the countess-dowager. "My maid not have one of these rooms?

You insolent woman! Do you know that I am come here with my nephew, Lord Hartledon, to be mistress of this house, and of every one in it? You'd better mind _your_ behaviour, for I can tell you that I shall look pretty sharply after it."

"Then," said Mirrable, who never allowed herself to be put out by any earthly thing, and rarely argued against the stream, "as your ladyship has come here as sole mistress, perhaps you will yourself apportion the rooms to the guests."

"Let them apportion them for themselves," cried the countess-dowager.

"These three are mine; others manage as they can. It's Hartledon's fault.

I told him not to invite a heap of people. You and I shall get on together very well, I've no doubt, Mirrable," she continued in a false, fawning voice; for she was remarkably alive at all times to her own interests. "Am I to understand that you are the housekeeper?"

"I am acting as housekeeper at present," was Mirrable's answer. "When my lord went to town, after my lady's death, the housekeeper went also, and has remained there. I have taken her place. Lord Elster--Lord Hartledon, I mean--has not lived yet at Hartledon, and we have had no establishment."

"Then who are you?"

"I was maid to Lady Hartledon for many years. Her ladyship treated me more as a friend at the last; and the young gentlemen always did so."

"_Very_ good," cried the untrue voice. "And, now, Mirrable, you can go down and send up some tea for myself and Lady Maude. What time do we dine?"

"Mr. Elster ordered it for eight o'clock."

"And what business had _he_ to take orders upon himself?" and the pale little eyes flashed with anger. "Who's Val Elster, that he should interfere? I sent word by the servants that we wouldn't dine till nine."

"Mr. Elster is in his own house, madam; and--"

"In his own house!" raved Lady Kirton. "It's no house of his; it's his brother's. And I wish I was his brother for a day only; I'd let Mr. Val know what presumption comes to. Can't dinner be delayed?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady."

"Ugh!" snapped the countess-dowager. "Send up tea at once; and let it be strong, with a great deal of green in it. And some rolled bread-and-b.u.t.ter, and a little well-b.u.t.tered toast."