Cursed by a Fortune. Fenn George Manville
’em to mind their own business. Now, look here, mother, you want me to marry Katey, don’t you?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“Then you keep your tongue still and your eyes shut. The guv’nor ’ll be off directly, and you’ll be taking her into the drawing-room.”
“Yes, my dear.”
“Well, I’m not going out; I’m going to have it over with her this afternoon, so you slip off and leave me to my chance while there is one. I’m tired of waiting for old Garstang to be out of the way.”
“But I don’t think I ought to, my dear.”
“Then I do. Look here, she knows what’s coming, and that’s why she wouldn’t come out with me, you know. It’s all gammon, to lead me on. She means it. You know what girls are. I mean to strike while the iron’s hot.”
“But suppose – ”
“I shan’t suppose anything of the kind. She only pretends. We understand one another with our eyes. I know what girls are; and you give me my chance this afternoon, and she’s mine. She’s only holding off a bit, I tell you.”
“Perhaps you are right, my dear; but don’t hurt her feelings by being too premature.”
“Too gammon! You do what I say, and soon. I don’t want old Garstang back before we’ve got it all over. Keep dark; here they come.”
Kate entered with her uncle as soon as he had spoken, and Claud attacked her directly.
“Altered your mind?” he said.
“No, Claud; you must excuse me, please,” was the reply.
“All right. Off, father?”
“Yes, my boy. In about half an hour or so; I have two or three letters to write.”
“Two or three letters to write!” muttered the young man, as he went out into the veranda, to light his pipe, and keep on the watch for the coveted opportunity; “haven’t you any brains in your head?”
But James Wilton’s half-hour proved to be an hour, and when, after seeing him off, the son returned to the hall, he heard voices in the drawing-room, and gave a vicious snarl.
“Why the devil don’t she go?” he muttered.
There were steps the next moment, and he drew back into the dining-room to listen, the conversation telling him that his mother and cousin were going into the library to get some particular book.
There, to the young man’s great disgust, they stayed, and he waited for quite half an hour trying to control his temper, and devise some plan for trying to get his mother away.
At last she appeared, saying loudly as she looked back, “I shall be back directly, my dear,” and closed the door.
Claud appeared at once, and with a meaning smile at his mother, she crossed to the stairs, while as she ascended to her room the son went straight to the library and entered.
As he threw open the door he found himself face to face with his cousin, who, book in hand, was coming out of the room.
“Hallo!” he cried, with a peculiar laugh; “Where’s the old lady?”
“She has just gone to her room, Claud,” said Kate, quietly.
“Here, don’t be in such a hurry, little one,” he cried, pushing to the door. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said, quietly, though her heart was throbbing heavily; “I was going to take my book into the drawing-room.”
“Oh, bother the old books!” he cried, snatching hers away, and catching her by the wrist; “come and sit down; I want to talk to you.”
“You can talk to me in the drawing-room,” she said, trying hard to be firm.
“No, I can’t; it’s better here. I say, Kitty, when shall it be?”
“When shall what be?”
“Our wedding. You know.”
“Never,” she said, gravely, fixing her eyes upon his.
“What?” he cried. “What nonsense! You know how I love you. I do, ’pon my soul. I never saw anyone who took my fancy so before.”
“Do your mother and father know that you are talking to me in this mad way? – you, my own cousin?” she said, firmly.
“What do I care whether they do or no?” he said, with a laugh; “I’ve been weaned for a long time. I say, don’t hold me off; don’t play with a fellow like silly girls do. I love you ever so, and I’m always thinking about your beautiful eyes till I can’t sleep of a night. It’s quite right for you to hold me off for a bit, but there’s been enough of it, and I know you like me.”
“I have tried to like you as my cousin,” she said, gravely.
“That’ll do for a beginning,” he replied, laughingly; “but let’s get a little farther on now, I say. Kitty, you are beautiful, you know, and whenever I see you my heart goes pumping away tremendously. I can’t talk like some fellows do, but I can love a girl with the best of them, and I want you to pitch over all shilly-shally nonsense, and let’s go on now like engaged people.”
“You are talking at random and of what is unnatural and impossible. Please never to speak to me again like this, Claud; and now loose my wrist, and let me go.”
“Likely, when I’ve got you alone at last I say, don’t hold me off like this; it’s so silly.”
She made a brave effort to hide the alarm she felt; and with a sudden snatch she freed her wrist and darted across the room.
The flight of the hunted always gives courage to the hunter, and in this case he sprang after her, and the next minute had clasped her round the waist.
“Got you!” he said, laughingly; “no use to struggle; I’m twice as strong as you.”
“Claud! How dare you?” she cried, with her eyes flashing.
“’Cause I love you, darling.”
“Let go. It is an insult. It is a shame to me. Do you know what you are doing?”
“Yes; getting tighter hold of you, so as to kiss those pretty lips and cheeks and eyes – There, and there, and there!”
“If my uncle knew that you insulted me like this – ”
“Call him; he isn’t above two miles off.”
“Aunt – aunt!” cried the girl, excitedly, and with the hot, indignant tears rising to her eyes.
“Gone to lie down, while I have a good long loving talk with you, darling. Ah, it’s of no use to struggle. Don’t be so foolish. There, you’ve fought long enough. All girls do the same, because it is their nature to fool it. There! now I’m master; give me a nice, pretty, long kiss, little wifie-to-be. I say, Kitty, you are a beauty. Let’s be married soon. You don’t know how happy I shall make you.”
Half mad now with indignation and fear, she wrested herself once more free, and, scorning to call for help, she ran toward the fire place. But before she could reach the bell he struck her hand on one side, caught her closely now in his arms, and covered her face once more with kisses.
This time a loud cry escaped her as she struggled hard, to be conscious the next moment of some one rushing into the room, feeling herself dragged away, and as the word “Hound!” fell fiercely upon her ear there was the sound of a heavy blow, a scuffling noise, and a loud crash of breaking wood and glass.
Chapter Eleven
“My poor darling child! – Lie still, you miserable hound, or I’ll half strangle you.”
The words – tender and gentle as if it were a woman’s voice, fierce and loud as from an enraged man – seemed to come out of a thick mist in which Kate felt as if she were sick unto death. Then by degrees she grew conscious that she