The Gambler Part 74

"Clo, it's all this stupid pride. Of course Pierce and Daisy and Mrs.

Estcoit know that I have nothing, except my share in Orristown--which, of course, _is_ nothing. And I know that for all the rest of my life I shall be dependent on Pierce for everything. But it's just because of that, that I want to come to him with all the things--the clothes and things--that other girls have. Oh, I know it's hateful of me--it's weak and vain."

Clodagh pressed her hand suddenly.

"No, darling! I understand."

"You do? Oh, Clo! dear Clo! Then you know what the thousand pounds seems like. A thousand pounds all my own! Money of my own to buy beautiful things with--things like Daisy's--things like yours! I, who have never had a penny that really belonged to me! And Clodagh, may I have it soon? That's what I want to say. May I have it soon? I won't spend it all, of course--not half--nor quarter----" She laughed. "But may I have it soon? It--it would be heaven!"

With a swift, involuntary movement, Clodagh freed her hand.

"Clo, I have said too much! I have asked too much!"

"No, darling! No! No!"

"Then I've tired you? Clo, you're tired!" She caught Clodagh's hand again. "And _you_ wanted to tell _me_ something. Oh, I've been selfis.h.!.+

Won't you forgive me, and say it now?"

But Clodagh turned from her and walked to the writing-table--the table on which her father's miniature had rested the night before.

"No, I won't talk to-night, darling," she said, without looking round.

"I--I think I have forgotten what I was going to say."

CHAPTER X

The key-note of Clodagh's character was impulse. She loved, she hated, she was generous, she was foolish, with a wide impulsiveness.

When Nance had spoken of her engagement, her unselfish joy and relief in the security it promised had aroused a renewed desire for self-sacrifice, as represented by confession of her weakness; but a moment later, when Nance had spoken of Milbanke's legacy--of her innocent joy in its existence--of her innocent desire for its possession--the wish had faltered. She had given her tacit agreement that the thousand pounds should be placed in Nance's hands--the thousand pounds, of which the greater portion had already gone to swell the coffers of London tradesmen or fill the pockets of her friends!

That was her position on the night of Nance's confidence; and on the following morning she woke with an oppressive sense that action must be taken in some direction.

The whole house party, with the exception of Deerehurst, put in an appearance at the early breakfast. And as Clodagh entered the breakfast-room, her spirits rallied a little at the sight of the crowded table; and she took her place between George Tuffnell and Serracauld with a sense of respite.

Lady Diana, who was occupying her usual place at the head of the table, had borne Nance off to sit beside her; while Lady Frances, looking a little worn in the searching morning light, was keeping Mrs. Bathurst, Mansfeldt, and Gore amused.

The breakfast was not a long meal; and at its conclusion Lady Diana looked round the table.

"Now, people!" she said amiably, "what are the morning's plans? You know, you are none of you to forget my dance to-night, and tire yourselves!"

Mrs. Bathurst turned to her with her pretty, languid smile.

"I'm going to play croquet with Mr. Mansfeldt," she announced. "Nice, lazy, old-fas.h.i.+oned croquet. We shall turn up at lunch time."

"And you, Walter?" Lady Diana asked. "Will you drive over with me to Wynchley? We might take Frances and"--again she looked round the party--"and Miss a.s.shlin."

But Nance glanced quickly down the table to where her sister sat.

Clodagh caught the questioning look, and bent her head.

"Yes. Go with Lady Diana," she said affectionately. "It's very sweet of her to take you."

Nance smiled shyly.

"I know," she said, looking from Clodagh to her hostess.

Lady Diana returned the smile.

"It's sweet of your sister to spare you to me."

While she was speaking, Serracauld turned to Clodagh.

"Will you give _me_ the morning?" he said in an undertone.

She drew back and laughed a little.

"What a conceited suggestion! Fancy throwing my little sister over, to spend the morning with you!"

He looked at her unabashed. And, as Tuffnell turned to address his neighbour, he bent close to her again.

"You're very hard on me! When will you be really, properly kind?"

"Oh, sometime--perhaps!" Clodagh's tone was careless and light.

"This morning, then? Come for a ride with me."

She laughed once more, and shook her head.

"I have a letter--a terrible business letter--that must be written--a letter to Mr. Barnard."

Serracauld raised his eyebrows a trifle satirically.

"To Barny? Ah, then I shan't press the point. But how many dances am I to have to-night?"

"Dances? You know I shan't dance." She glanced down at her black linen dress.

He smiled a little.

"Am I a schoolboy, that I should want to dance? How many dances are we to sit out?"

"To sit out? Oh, I'll--I'll tell you that when we've sat out one."

Without looking at him, she pushed back her chair, as Lady Diana rose.

"Then let that be the first dance?"

She nodded inconsequently.