"Mam--madam!" he stammered, "how did you learn----"

"I have sat beside you for quite twenty minutes, dear sir, and in all my days I never saw such a pitiful case of humble worship and dog-like devotion."

"Indeed mam, I--had begun to--to hope----"

"Hope still, sir. In two months, then. Yes, two months should be quite soon enough. How think you?" The Major was mute and before he could find an answer there came a burst of laughter from the adjacent shrubbery, a chorus of merriment that grew to a roar.

"Now I wonder--?" exclaimed Lady Belinda, halting suddenly, "This way, sir." Following whither he was led the Major soon came upon the merry company. Before them stood my lady Betty; in one hand she grasped the Major's gold-mounted cane, upon her raven hair was perched the Major's gold-laced hat, and now, squaring her shoulders, she began to limp to and fro--a limp there was no mistaking. She bowed and postured, mimicking to the life the Major's grave air, his att.i.tude, his diffidence, the very tones of his voice.

"Egad mam! Good-day mam and how d'ye do, mam? You behold in me a philosopher, hence my gloom and spectre-at-the-feast air, as 'twere, d'ye see. Despite the silvered splendour of my coat and youthful trappings I am of antiquity h.o.a.ry, mam, full o' years and wisdom, with soul immune and far above all human foibles and frailties, and vanities vain, as 'twere. Vices have I none, save that I do; suck tobacco through pipe o' clay----"

Lord Alvaston, beholding the Major, choked suddenly in his laughter, Sir Benjamin started and dropped his snuff-box, the Marquis gasped and stared up at the sky and Lady Betty, turning about, found the Major within a yard of her; and seeing his look of sudden pain, his flushing cheek and the gentle reproach of his eyes, she stood motionless, struck suddenly speechless and abashed. But now, because of her embarra.s.sment, he hastened to her and, to cover her distressed confusion, laughed lightly and stooping, caught her nerveless fingers to his lips:

"Dear my lady," said he, smiling down into her troubled eyes, "till this moment ne'er did I think this awkward, halting gait o' mine could seem so--so graceful as 'twere. I doubt 'twill irk me less, hereafter."

Then, gently possessing himself of hat and cane, he faced the dumb-struck company smiling and serene and, saluting each in turn, limped tranquilly away.

When he was gone, Lady Betty laughed shrilly, rent her laced handkerchief in quick, pa.s.sionate hands and throwing it on the gra.s.s stamped on it; after which she flashed a glance of withering scorn upon the flinching bystanders and--sobbed.

"I detest, despise myself," she cried, "and you--all of you!"

Then she turned and sped, sobbing, into the house.

And the Major?

Reaching his study, he seized that exquisite, that peerless dove-coloured coat in merciless hands and wrenching it off, hurled it into a corner and rang for the Sergeant who came at the "double."

"Zebedee," said he between his teeth, pointing to that shimmering splendour of satin and silver lace, "take that accursed thing and burn it--bury it--away with it and bring me my Ramillie coat."

CHAPTER XXIV

DEALS, AMONG OTHER THINGS, WITH TREASONABLE MATTERS

"Mrs. Agatha, mam," said the Sergeant, rubbing his square chin with the handle of the shears he had just been using, "he aren't been the same since that there night in the orchard! He be a-fading, mam, a-fading and perishing away afore my very eyes. He aren't ate this day so much as would keep a babe alive let alone a man like him, six foot and one inch, mam. Consequently, this morning I did feel called upon to re-monstrate as in dooty bound mam, and he said--so meek, so mild--so gentle as any bleating lamb, he says to me, says he----"

The Sergeant paused to heave a sigh and shake gloomy head.

"What did he say, Sergeant?"

"Mam, he says, says he--'d.a.m.n your eyes, Sergeant Zeb!' says he--but so mild and meek as any sucking dove----"

"Doves don't suck, Sergeant--at least I don't think so, and they never swear, I'm sure!"

"But, Mrs. Agatha mam, so meek he said it, so soft and mournful as my 'eart did bleed for him--his honour as could curse and swear so gay and hearty when needful! He says to me 'Zeb,' says he 'd.a.m.n your eyes!' he says so sweet as any piping finch, mam." Here the Sergeant sighed heavily. "What's more, mam, he do talk o' marching off campaigning again."

"You mean to fight in more wars and battles?" she enquired with a catch in her voice.

"Aye mam, I do, and if he goes--I go as in dooty bound." Here fell a silence wherein Mrs. Agatha stared down at her basketful of roses and the Sergeant stared at her and rubbed his chin with the shears again.

"Mam," said he suddenly, "a fortnight ago, being the thirtieth ultimo, towards three o'clock in the arternoon you did give me a little gold cross which is with me now and shall be hereafter living and dead Amen!"

"O Sergeant!" she said softly; and then "I'm glad you haven't lost it!"

"A fortnight ago mam," continued the Sergeant, "also towards three o'clock in the arternoon I--kissed you and the--the memory o' that kiss is never a-going to fade mam. You'll mind as I kissed you, mam?"

"Did you, Sergeant?"

"Ha' you forgot, mam?"

"Almost!" she answered softly, whereupon the Sergeant took a swift pace nearer, halted suddenly and turning away again, went on speaking:

"I kissed you for three reasons, same being as hereunder namely and viz. to wit, first because I wanted to, second because your pretty red lips was too near and too rosy to resist and third because I did mean to beg o' you to--to be--my wife."

"Did you--Zebedee?"

"I did so--then, but now I--I can't----"

"Why not--Zebedee?"

"Dooty mam, dooty forbids."

"You mean 'duty,' Sergeant," she corrected him gently.

"Dooty mam, pre-cisely! 'Tis his honour the Major, I thought as he were set on matrimony 'stead o' which I now find he's set on campaigning again, he talks o' nothing else o' late--and if he goes--I go. And if I go I can't ask you to wed--'twouldn't be fair."

"And why does he want to go?"

"Witchcraft, mam, devils, sorcery, black magic, and d.a.m.ned spells.

Mrs. Agatha I do tell you he are not been his own man since he saw--what he saw i' the orchard t'other night."

"And what was that?" enquired Mrs. Agatha, glancing up bright-eyed from her fragrant basketful of roses.

"A apparation in form o' the dev--no, the devil in form of a apparation, mam."

"Fiddlededee!" exclaimed Mrs. Agatha. The Sergeant jumped and stared.

"Mam!" said he in gentle reproach, "don't say that--ghosts is serious and----"

"A fiddle-stick for your ghost! 'Twould take more than a shade to put his honour off his food, Sergeant Zebedee Tring! The question is, who was your ghost? What was he like?"

"Why since you're for cross-examinating me, I'll confess I caught but a glimpse of same, same having vanished itself away afore my very eyes."

"Where to?"

"Into my Lady Carlyon's garden, mam, and it dissolved itself so quick----"

"Tut!" exclaimed Mrs. Agatha,