Of High Descent Part 108

"I am not ashamed to own that I loved her," said the young man, bitterly.

"Loved?" said Uncle Luke, quietly. "Wonder what love's like, to make a man such a goose. Don't be a sham, Leslie. You always meant to go.

You said to yourself, when you thought ill of the poor girl, you would go after her and try and break the man's neck."

"Not exactly, sir."

"Well, something of the kind. And now Maddy Van Heldre has been giving you a good setting down, and showing you what a weak baby you are--"

"Has Miss Van Heldre--"

"No, Miss Van Heldre has not said a word; but your face is as plain as a newspaper, and I know what Maddy would say if anybody attacked my niece.

There, what's the use of talking? You will say with your lips that Louise is nothing to you now, and that you believe she has eloped with some French scoundrel."

Leslie bit his lip and made an impatient gesture.

"While that n.o.ble countenance of yours, of which you are so proud, has painted upon it love and trust and hope, and all the big-boy nonsense in which young men indulge when they think they are only a half, which needs another half to make them complete."

"I am not going to quarrel with you," said Leslie, flus.h.i.+ng angrily, all the same.

"No, my boy, you are not. You are coming with me, my unfortunate young hemisphere, to try and find that other half to which you shall some day be joined to make you a complete little world of trouble of your own, to roll slowly up the hill of life, hang on the top for a few hours, and then roll rapidly down. There, we have wasted time enough in talking, and I'll hold off. Thank ye, though, Leslie, you're a good fellow after all."

He held out his hand, which Leslie slowly took, and Uncle Luke was shaking it warmly as Madelaine re-entered the room.

"Well," said the old man grimly, "have you put the baby to bed?"

"Uncle Luke!" said Madelaine imploringly; "pray be serious and help us."

"Serious, my girl! I was never so serious before. I only called Margaret a baby. So she is in intellect, and a very troublesome and mischievous one. Glad to see though that my little matter-of-fact Dutch doll has got the better of her. Why, Maddy, henceforth you'll be able to lead her with a silken string."

"Uncle Luke dear--Louise," said Madelaine imploringly.

"Ah, to be sure, yes, Louise," said the old man with his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Circ.u.mstances alter cases. Now look here, you two.

I'm only an old man, and of course thoroughly in your confidence. Sort of respectable go-between. Why shouldn't I try and make you two happy?"

Leslie bit his lip, and Madelaine gave the old man an imploring look; but in a mocking way, he went on.

"Now suppose I say to you two, what can be better than for you to join hands--partners for life you know, and--"

"Mr Luke Vine!" cried Leslie sternly, "setting aside the insult to me, is this gentlemanly, to annoy Miss Van Heldre with your mocking, ill-chosen jokes?"

"Hark at the hot-blooded Scotchman, Maddy; and look here how pleasantly and patiently my little Dutch doll takes it, bless her!"

He put his arm round Madelaine and held her to his side.

"Why, what are you ruffling up for in that fas.h.i.+on? Only a few minutes ago you were swearing that you hated Louie, and that you gave her up to the French n.o.bleman--French n.o.bleman, Maddy!--and I offer you a pleasant anodyne for your sore heart--and a very pleasant anodyne too, eh, Maddy?

Ah, don't--don't cry--hang it all, girl, don't. I do hate to see a woman with wet eyes. Now what have you got to sob about?"

"Is this helping us?"

"No. But I'm going to, little one. I was obliged to stick something into Leslie, here. He is such a humbug. Swore he didn't care a bit for Louie now, and that he believed everything that was bad of her, and yet look at his face."

"It is impossible to quarrel with you, sir," said Leslie, with the look of a human mastiff.

"Of course it is," cried Uncle Luke. "Well, Maddy, I've converted him.

He sees now that it's a puzzle we don't understand, and he is coming up to town with me to solve the problem."

"I knew he would," cried Madelaine warmly. "Mr Leslie, I am very, very glad."

"Of course, you are; and as soon as I bring Louie back, and all is cleared, Leslie shall come and congratulate us. D'ye hear, Leslie? I'm going to marry Madelaine. Marry her and stop up in the churchyard afterwards," he said with a grim smile full of piteous sadness.

"Uncle Luke!"

"Well, it's right enough, my dear. At my time of life hardly worth while to make two journeys up to the churchyard. So you could leave me there and go back, and take possession of my estate."

"Louise."

"Ah, yes. I mustn't forget Louise," said the old man. "Let's see-- about Margaret. Leave her all right?"

"Yes; she is more calm now."

"Did you question her, and get to know anything?"

"Nothing."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old man. "Close as an oyster, or else she doesn't know anything."

"That is what I think," said Madelaine eagerly.

"Ah, well, we are only wasting time," said Uncle Luke testily. "So now, Leslie, business. First thing we have to do is to go up to London. No: first thing, Maddy, is to run on to your house, and tell them what we are going to do. You'll have to stay here, my dear, and look after those two. Comfort George all you can; drive him with that silken thread rein of yours, and keep a good tight curb over Margaret. There, you'll manage them."

"Yes. Tell them at home I think it better to stay here now," said Madelaine earnestly. "You will send me every sc.r.a.p of news?"

"Leslie and I are going to secure the wire and ruin ourselves in telegrams. Ready, Miner?"

"Yes."

"Then come on."

Madelaine caught Leslie's extended hand, and leaned towards him.

"My life on it," she whispered, "Louise is true."

He wrung her hand and hurried away.

"Good-bye, Uncle Luke. Be happy about them here; and, mind, we are dying for news."

"Ah! yes; I know," he said testily; and he walked away--turned back, and caught Madelaine to his breast. "Good-bye, Dutch doll. G.o.d bless you, my darling," he said huskily. "If I could only bring back poor Harry too!"

Madelaine stood wiping the tears from her eyes as the old man hurried off after Leslie, but she wiped another tear away as well, one which rested on her cheek, a big salt tear that ought almost to have been a fossil globule of crystallised water and salt. It was the first Uncle Luke had shed for fifty years.