The Master of Greylands. Mrs. Henry Wood
the least, Harry," answered Miss Castlemaine, smiling. "I am engaged for that, and for the second as well."
"Of course. Well, it is all as it should be, I suppose. Given the presence of Mr. Blake-Gordon, and no one else has so good a right as he to open the ball with you."
"You will find a substitute for me by the asking, Harry. See all those young ladies around; not one but is glancing towards you with the hope that you may seek her."
He laughed rather consciously. He was perfectly well aware of the universal favour accorded by the ladies, young and old, to Harry Castlemaine. But this time, at any rate, he intended to disappoint them all. He turned to Miss Reene.
"Will you take compassion upon a rejected man, Ethel? Mary Ursula won't have me for the first two dances, you hear; so I appeal to you in all humility to heal the smart. Don't reject me."
"Nonsense, Harry!" was the young lady's answer. "You must not ask me for the first dance; it would be like brother and sister dancing together; all the room would resent it in you, and call it bad manners. Choose elsewhere. There's Miss Mountsorrel; she will not say you nay."
"For the dances, no but she'll not condescend to speak three words to me while they are in process," returned Mr. Harry Castlemaine. "If you do not dance them with me, Ethel, I shall sit down until the two first dances are over."
He spoke still in the same laughing, half joking manner; but, nevertheless, there was a ring of decision in the tone of the last words; and Ethel knew he meant what he said. The Castlemaines rarely broke through any decision they might announce, however lightly it was spoken; and Harry possessed somewhat of the same persistent will.
"If you make so great a point of it, I will dance with you," observed Ethel. "But I must again say that you ought to take anyone rather than me."
"I have not seen my uncle yet," remarked Miss Castlemaine to Ethel, as Harry strolled away to pay his devoirs to the room generally. "Where can he be lingering?"
"Papa is not here, Mary Ursula."
"Not here! How is that?"
"Really I don't know," replied Ethel. "When Harry came running out to get into the carriage to-night--we had been sitting in it quite five minutes waiting for him but he had been away all day, and was late in dressing--Miles shut the door. 'Don't do that,' said Harry to him, 'the master's not here.' Upon that, Mrs. Castlemaine spoke, and said papa was not coming with us."
"I suppose he will be coming in later," remarked Mary Ursula, as she moved away to meet fresh guests.
The dancing began with a country dance; or, as would have been said then, the ball opened with one. Miss Castlemaine and her lover, Mr. Blake-Gordon, took their places at its head; Harry Castlemaine and Miss Reene were next to them. For in those days, people stood much upon etiquette at these assemblies, and the young ladies of the family took precedence of all others in the opening dance.
The dance chosen was called the Triumph. Harry Castlemaine led Mary Ursula down between the line of admiring spectators; her partner, Mr. Blake-Gordon, followed, and they brought the young lady back in triumph. Such was the commencement of the figure. It was a sight to be remembered in after years; the singular good looks of at least two of the three; Harry, the sole male heir of the Castlemaines, with the tall fine form and the handsome face; and Mary Ursula, so stately and beautiful. Ethel Reene was standing alone, in her quiet loveliness, looking like a snowdrop, and waiting until her turn should come to be in like manner taken down. The faces of all sparkled with animation and happiness; the gala robes of the two young ladies added to the charm of the scene. Many recalled it later; recalled it with a pang: for, of those four, ere a year had gone by, one was not, and another's life had been blighted. No prevision, however, rested on any of them this night of what the dark future held in store; and they revelled in the moment's enjoyment, gay at heart. Heaven is too merciful to let Fate cast its ominous shade on us before the needful time.
The banker came in ere the first dance was over. Moving about from room to room among his guests, glancing with approving smile at the young dancers, seeing that the card-tables were filled, he at length reached the sofa of Mrs. Castlemaine. She happened to be alone on it just then, and he sat down beside her.
"I don't see James anywhere," he remarked. "Where is he hiding himself?"
"He has not come," replied Mrs. Castlemaine.
"No! How's that? James enjoys a ball."
"Yes, I think he does still, nearly as much as his son Harry."
"Then what has kept him away?"
"I really do not know. I had thought nearly to the last that he meant to come. When I was all but ready myself, finding James had not begun to dress, I sent Harriet to remind him of the lateness of the hour, and she brought word back that her master was not going."
"Did he say why?" asked Mr. Peter Castlemaine.
"No! I knocked at his study door afterwards and found him seated at his bureau. He seemed busy. All he said to me was, that he should remain at home; neither more nor less. You know, Peter, James rarely troubles himself to give a reason for what he does."
"Well, I am sorry. Sorry that he should miss a pleasant evening, and also because I wanted to speak to him. We may not have many more of these social meetings."
"I suppose not," said Mrs. Castlemaine, assuming that her brother-in-law alluded in an indirect way to his daughter's approaching marriage. "When once you have lost Mary Ursula, there will be nobody to hold, festivities for."
"No," said the banker, absently.
"I suppose it will be very soon now."
"What will be soon?"
"The wedding. James thinks it will be after Easter."
"Oh--ay--the wedding," spoke Mr. Peter Castlemaine, with the air of a man who has just caught up some recollection that had slipped from him. "I don't know yet: we shall see: no time has been decided on."
"Close as his brother" thought Mrs. Castlemaine. "No likelihood, that he will disclose anything unless he chooses."
"Will James be coming in to Stilborough to-morrow?" asked the banker.
"I'm sure I cannot tell. He goes out and comes in, you know, without any reference to me. I should fancy he would not be coming in, unless he has anything to call him. He has not seemed well to-day; he thinks he has caught a cold."
"Ah, then I daresay that's the secret of his staying at home to-night," said Mr. Peter Castlemaine.
"Yes, it may be. I did not think of that. And he has also been very much annoyed to-day: and you know, Peter, if once James is thoroughly put out of temper, it takes some little time to put him in again."
The banker nodded assent.
"What has annoyed him?"
"A very curious thing," replied Mrs. Castlemaine: "you will hardly believe it when I tell you. Some young man----"
Breaking off suddenly, she glanced around to make sure that no one was within hearing. Then drawing nearer to the banker, went on in a lowered voice:
"Some young man presented himself this morning at Greylands' Rest, pretending to want to put in a claim to the estate."
Abstracted though the banker had been throughout the brief interview, these words aroused him to the quick. In one moment he was the calm, shrewd, attentive business man, Peter Castlemaine, his head erect, his keen eyes observant.
"I do not understand you, Mrs. Castlemaine."
"Neither do I understand," she rejoined. "James said just a word or two to me, and I gathered the rest."
"Who was the young man?"
"Flora described him as wearing a coat trimmed with fur; and Miles thought he spoke with somewhat of a foreign accent," replied Mrs. Castlemaine, deviating unconsciously from the question, as ladies