The Star-Gazers. Fenn George Manville
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going mad?”
“Yes,” she cried passionately, “driven so by you. It is shameful. I could not have believed the man lived who would have treated a woman so basely. But I am not blind. There is a reason for it all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think me a child? I am to be won and then tossed aside for the new love – fancy, the poacher’s daughter, and when – ”
“Don’t be a fool, Madge. You are saying words now that you will repent.”
“I’ll say them,” she cried, half wild with jealous rage, and her words sounding the more intense from their being uttered in a low, harsh whisper, “if I die for it. The gamekeeper’s daughter, the girl taken in here by your mother out of charity.”
“Madge!”
“Who is to be the next favourite, when you are weary of your last conquest – one of the kitchen wenches?”
“Perhaps,” he said coolly.
“Rob! Have you no heart that you treat me as you do?”
“I never thought, never said a word to make you think I meant – er – marriage.”
“Think you meant marriage?” she whispered. “I did love you as dearly as I hate you now for your heartless cruelty to me. But you shall repent it – repent it bitterly.”
“Look here,” he said roughly; “for years past we have lived in this house like brother and sister, and I won’t have you speak like this. Does my mother know?”
“Ask her.”
“Bah!”
“You dare not ask her what she thinks or whether she approves of your choice. Captain Rolph in love with the gamekeeper’s daughter! Is she to be taken to the county ball, and introduced to society? And is she to wear the family diamonds? Judith – Judy – the miserable, low-bred – ”
“Here, hold hard!”
Marjorie Emlin stopped short, startled into silence by the furious look and tone she had evoked. The young man had listened, and from time to time had made deprecating movements to try and turn away the furious woman’s wrath till she had made this last attack, when he glared with a rage so overpowering that she shrank from him.
“You have done well,” he said. “My mother looks upon you as a daughter. I have always been to you as a brother.”
“It is not true,” she said, as she stood quivering with fear and rage before him, trying to meet his eye. Then, with a low cry, full of vindictive passion, she struck at him, and ran out of the room.
“Curse the girl!” growled Rolph. “I wish women wouldn’t be such fools. A kiss and a few warm words, and then, hang ’em! you’re expected to marry ’em. Man can’t marry every pretty girl he kisses. They want a missionary among ’em to tell ’em this isn’t Turkey. If there’s much more of it, I’m off back to Aldershot. No, I’m not,” he added, with a half laugh, “not yet – Hallo, mother! You?”
“Yes, my boy. I saw Madge go out just now, looking wild and excited. Rob, dear, you have been speaking to her?”
“Well, I suppose so,” he said bitterly.
“And you have told her you love her? – asked her to be your wife?”
“Good heavens, mother! are you gone mad too? – Madge – I never dreamed of such a thing.”
“Why?” said Mrs Rolph, with a strange coldness.
“Because – because – ”
“Yes; because you have taken a fancy to another,” said Mrs Rolph sternly. “Robert, my son, it is not I who am mad, but you. Have you thought well over all this?”
“Don’t ask questions,” he said sulkily.
“I am your mother, sir, and I assert my right to question you on such a matter as this, as your poor father would have questioned you. But there is no need. I have done wrong, and yet I cannot blame myself, for how could I, his mother, know that my son would act otherwise than as a gentleman.”
“Well, I never do.”
“It is false. When Mary Hayle died, I bade her go in peace, for I would try to be a mother to the orphaned girl. Heaven knows, I tried to be. I brought her here, and made her the humble companion of your cousin Madge. She shared her lessons; she was taught everything, that she might be able to earn her own livelihood as a governess.”
“Well, I know all that.”
“To be treated with ingratitude. My foolish son, when he comes home, must allow himself to be enmeshed by a cunning and deceitful woman.”
“What bosh, mother!”
“But it is true. You do not dare to tell me you do not love Judith Hayle?”
“There is no dare in question. I like the girl.”
“Unhappy boy! and she has led you on.”
Captain Rolph whistled.
“Any telegram come for me? I sent a man to Brackley.”
“Telegram!”
“Yes. I want to know about the footrace at Lilley Bridge.”
Mrs Rolph gave her foot an impatient stamp.
“Listen to me, sir. This is no time for thinking about low sports.”
“Hallo? Low?”
“Yes, sir; low. I have never interfered when I saw you taking so much interest in these pursuits. My son, I said to our friends, is an officer and a gentleman, and if he likes to encourage athleticism in the country by his presence at these meetings, he has a right to do so; but I have not liked it, though I have been silent. You know I have never interfered about your relaxations.”
“No; you’ve been a splendid mater,” he said laughingly.
“And I have been proud of my manly son; but when I see him stooping to folly – ”
“Misapplied quotation, mater – when lovely woman stoops to folly.”
“Be serious, sir. I will not have you degrade yourself in the eyes of the neighbourhood by such conduct, for it means disgrace. What would the Days say – Sir John and Glynne? If it had been she, I would not have cared.”
“Let the Days be,” he said gruffly.
“I will,” said Mrs Rolph; “but listen, Rob, dear; think of poor Madge.”
“Hang poor Madge! Look here, once for all, mother; I’m not a witch in Macbeth. I don’t want three ounces of a red-haired wench – nor seven stone neither.”
“Rob! Shame!”
“I’m not going to have Madge rammed down my throat. If I’m to marry, she’s not in the running.”
“What? when you know my wishes?”
“Man marries to satisfy his own wishes, not his mother’s. I have other ideas.”
“Then what are they, sir?” said Mrs Rolph scornfully.
“That’s my business,” he said, taking out his cigar-case.
“Then, am I to understand that you intend to form an alliance with the family of our keeper?” said Mrs Rolph sarcastically.
“Bah!” roared her son fiercely; and he strode out of the room and banged the door.
“Gone!” cried Mrs Rolph, wringing her hands and making her rings crackle one against the other. “I was mad to have the wretched girl here. What fools we women are.”
Her son was saying precisely the same as he marched away.
“Does she think me mad?” he growled. “Marry freckle-faced Madge! – form an alliance with Ben Hayle’s Judy! Not quite such a fool. I’ll go and do it, and show the old girl a trick worth two