sounded as if from thevery depths of your heart, if," she went on, trying to speak lightly,"if you have one that is to say, which I have sometimes doubted."
But he threw back no joke in return.
"I have never given _you_ reason to doubt it, surely, Maddie?" he saidhalf reproachfully.
"No, no, dear. I'm in fun, of course. But seriously--"
"I'm serious enough."
"Yes, that you are--too serious. What's the matter, Despard, for thatthere is something the matter I am convinced?"
He did not attempt to deny it.
"Yes, Madeline," he said slowly, "I'm altogether upset. I've been falseto all my own theories. I've been a selfish enough brute always, Iknow, but at least I think I've been consistent. I've chosen my ownline, and lived the life, and among the people that suited me, and--"
"Been dreadfully, _miserably_ spoilt, Despard."
He glanced up at her sharply. No, she was not smiling. His faceclouded over still more.
"And that's the best even you can say of me?" he asked.
Mrs Selby hardly let him finish.
"No, no. I am blaming myself more than you," she said quickly. "Youare much--much better than you know, Despard. You are not selfishreally. Think of what you have done for others; how consistently youhave given up those evenings to that night school."
"One a week--what's that? And there's no credit in doing a thing onelikes. I enjoy those evenings, and it's more than I can say for theaverage of my days."
But his face cleared a very little as he spoke.
"Well," she went on, "that shows you are not at heart an altogetherselfish brute," and now she smiled a little. "And all the more does itshow how much better you might still be if you chose. I am very glad,delighted, Despard, that you _are_ discontented and dissatisfied; I knewit would come sooner or later."
Mr Norreys looked rather embarrassed.
"Maddie," he began again, "you haven't quite understood me. I didn'tfinish my sentence. I was going on to say that at least I had done noharm to anyone else; if no one's any better through me, at least noone's the _worse_ for my selfishness--oh, yes, don't interrupt," he wenton. "I know what you'd like to say--`No man liveth to himself,' thehigh-flown sort of thing. I don't go in for that. But _now_--I havenot even kept my consistency. You'd never guess what I've gone anddone--at least, Maddie, _can_ you guess?"
And his at all times sweet voice sweetened and softened as he spoke, andinto his eyes stole a look Madeline had never seen there before.
"Despard," she exclaimed breathlessly, "have you, can you, have fallenin love?"
He nodded.
"Oh, dear Despard," she exclaimed, "I am so very glad. It will be themaking of you. That's to say, if--but it must be somebody _very_ nice."
"Nice enough in herself--nice," he repeated, and he smiled. "Yes, if bynice you mean everything sweet and womanly, and original and delightful,and--oh, you mustn't tempt me to talk about her. But what she is_herself_ is not the only thing, my poor Maddie."
Mrs Selby gave a start.
"Oh, Despard," she exclaimed, "you don't mean that she's a marriedwoman."
"No, no."
"Or, or any one very decidedly beneath you?" she continued, with somerelief, but anxiously still.
Despard hesitated.
"That's exactly what I can't quite say," he replied. "She's a lady bybirth, that I'm sure of. But she has seen very little. Lived always ina village apparently--she has been in some ways unusually well andcarefully educated. But I'm quite positive she's poor, really withnothing of her own, I fancy. I'm not sure--it has struck me once ortwice that perhaps she had been intended for a governess."
Mrs Selby gasped, but checked herself.
"She has friends who are kind to her. I met her at some good houses.It was at Mrs Englewood's first of all, but since then I've seen her atmuch better places."
"But why do you speak so doubtfully--you keep saying `I fancy'--`Isuppose.' It must be easy to find out all about her."
"No; that's just it. She's curiously, no--not reserved--she's too niceand well-bred for that sort of thing--but, if you can understand, she's_frankly_ backward in speaking of herself. She'll talk of anything butherself. She has an old invalid father whom she adores--and--upon mysoul, that's about all she has ever told me."
"You can ask Mrs Englewood, surely."
Despard frowned.
"I can, and I have; at least, I tried it. But it was not easy. She'sbeen rather queer to me lately. She would volunteer no information, andof course--you see--I didn't want to seem interested on the subject.It's only just lately, since I came here in fact, that I've really ownedit to myself," and his face flushed. "I went yachting and fishing toput it out of my head, but--it's been no use--I won't laugh at all thatsort of thing again as I have done, I can tell you."
"He's very much in earnest," thought Mrs Selby.
"What--you don't mind telling me--what is her name?" she asked.
"Ford--Miss Ford. I fancy her first name is Mary. There's a pet namethey call her by," but he did not tell it.
"Mary Ford--that does not sound aristocratic," mused Mrs Selby."Despard, tell me--Mrs Englewood is really fond of you. Do you thinkshe knows anything against the girl, or her family, or anything likethat, and that she was afraid of it for you?"
"Oh, dear no! Quite the contrary, Mai--Miss Ford is a great pet ofhers. Gertrude was angry with me for not being civil to her," and helaughed.
"Not being civil to her," she repeated. "And you were falling in lovewith her? How do you mean?"
"That was afterwards. I was brutally uncivil to her at first. That'show it began somehow," he said, disconnectedly.
Mrs Selby felt utterly perplexed. Was he being taken in by a designinggirl? It all sounded very inconsistent.
"Despard," she said after a little silence, "shall I try to find out allabout her from Mrs Englewood? She would not refuse any information ifit was for your sake."
He considered.
"Well, yes," he said, "perhaps you'd better."
"And--" she went on, "if all is satisfactory--"
"Well?"
"You will go through with it?"
"I--suppose so. Altogether satisfactory it can't be. I'm fairly welloff as a bachelor, but that's a very different matter. And--Maddie--Ishould hate poverty."
"You would have no need to call it poverty," she said rather coldly.
"Well--well--I'm speaking comparatively of course," he replied,impatiently. "It would be what _I_ call poverty. And I am selfish, Iknow. The best of me won't come out under those circumstances. I've noright to marry, you see--that's what's been tormenting me."
"But if she likes to face it--would not that bring out the best of you?"said Mrs Selby hopefully, though in her heart rather shocked by his wayof speaking.
"Perhaps--I can't say. But of course if she did--"
"And you are sure she would?" asked Madeline, suddenly awaking to thefact that Miss Ford's feelings in the matter had been entirely left outof the question.
Despard smiled.
"Do you mean am I sure she cares for me?" he said. "Oh, yes--as forthat--"
"I don't like a girl who--who lets it be seen if she cares for a man,"she said.
Mr Norreys turned upon her.
"Lets it be seen," he repeated angrily. "Maddie, you put things verydisagreeably. Would I--tell me, is it likely that _I_ would take to agirl so utterly devoid of delicacy as your words sound? And is it soimprobable that a girl would care for me?" He smiled in spite ofhimself, and Mrs Selby's answering smile as she murmured: "I did notmean that, you know," helped to smooth him down. "She did her best tomake me think she detested me," he added. "But--"
"Ah, yes, but--" said his sister fondly. "Then it is settled, Despard,"she went on. "I shall tackle Mrs Englewood in my own way. You cantrust me. You don't know where Miss Ford is at present?" she added.
He shook his head despondently.
&nb
sp; "Not the ghost of an idea. I didn't try to hear. I thought I didn'twant to know, you see. But--Maddie," he added, half timidly, "you'llwrite at once?"
"As soon as I possibly can," she replied kindly, for glancing at him shesaw that he looked really ill and worn.
That Girl in Black; and, Bronzie Page 6