Lady Maude's Mania Part 17

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Maude started, and her eyes dilated slightly.

"Thought he was a decent fellow once, but he's regularly going to the dogs."

"Mr Melton is a friend of mine, Sir Grantley--a very dear friend of mine," cried Maude, crus.h.i.+ng the stiff paper of the note she held in her hand.

"Say was, my dear Maude," said Sir Grantley, making pokes at the pearl b.u.t.tons on his patent leather boots with his walking cane. "Poor fellow! Was all right once, but he's hopelessly gone now."

"I will not believe it," cried Maude indignantly. "It is cruel and ungentlemanly of you to try to blacken Mr Melton thus when he is not present."

"Cruel perhaps, but kind," said Sir Grantley; "ungentlemanly, no." He drew himself up slightly, as he spoke. "Poor beggar, can't help being poor, you know. They say--"

"Sir Grantley, I will not believe anything against Mr Melton," cried Maude with spirit.

"Not till you have proved it, my dear child. I don't want to pain you, but I know that the thoughts of Charles Melton have kept you from listening to me. Now, my dear Maude, if I were out of the race, you could not marry a man who is hopelessly in the hands of the Jews.

Couldn't do it, you know; and they do say."

"Sir Grantley Wilters," cried Maude, with her head thrown back, "these are cruel calumnies. Mr Charles Melton is a gentleman, and the soul of honour. I shall tell him your words."

"I shall be very glad to retract them, and apologise," said the baronet calmly; and then he busied himself in fixing his gla.s.s, for the little toy terrier had suddenly made a dead set at one end of the couch, where from beneath the chintz cover there peered out one very large prominent and peculiar eye, which kept blinking at the terrier in the calmest manner, its owner never attempting to move in spite of the angry demonstrations of the newcomer.

At last its demonstrations became so loud that, not seeing the great eye himself, the baronet rose slowly, drove the terrier into the back drawing-room and closed the door.

"A little new to the place, don't you know," he said. "There, I'm going now; I did not mean to blacken Mr Melton's character, but ask your brother to inquire. Sorry for any man to go to the bad. Gone regularly. Good-day."

He took Maude's hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, while she was too much agitated to resist. Then backing to the door, he smiled, kissed his glove, and was gone.

"Oh, this is monstrous!" cried Maude in anguished tones, when she remembered the note and opened it hastily, to read a few lines full of manly love and respect; and as she read of her wooer's determination never to give her up, her heart grew stronger in its faith.

"I knew it was false," she exclaimed, proudly. "How dare he calumniate him like that!"

Then going to a writing table, she glanced at her father, saw that he still slept, and, blus.h.i.+ng at her duplicity, she wrote a note, folded it so that it would go in the tiny leather pocket, and in a low voice called the dog.

Joby came out directly, and laid his great head in her lap, while the note was securely placed in its receptacle.

"Now go to your master, good dog," she cried, kissing him once more, and at the word "master" Joby started to the door and looked back, when Maude followed and opened it. The dog trotted downstairs and settled himself under the porter's chair in the hall till the door was opened.

Then he trotted off to his master's chambers.

Meanwhile, as soon as she had despatched her messenger, Maude seated herself upon the carpet by her father, and laid her cheek against his hand.

He opened his eyes directly, saw who it was, and laid his other hand upon her head.

"Ah, Maude, my pet," he said. "I have, been sitting here with my eyes closed."

"Yes, papa. Did you hear what Sir Grantley Wilters said?"

"No, my child. Has--has--he been here?"

"Yes, dear."

"Then I suppose I must have been quite asleep."

"Yes, papa--for quite an hour.--Papa, dear."

"Yes, my love."

"I cannot rest happy with any secret from you," said the girl, with averted head, and her cheeks burning for shame at the clandestine correspondence she was carrying on.

"That's right, my darling," said the old man, patting the soft fair hair and smoothing it over her forehead.

"Papa, dear," she continued, after a long pause, during which she fought hard to nerve herself for what she had to say.

"Yes, my child. There, you're not afraid of me."

"Oh, no, dear," she cried, drawing his arm around her neck, and holding his hand with both hers to her throbbing bosom. "Papa, I'm afraid--"

"Afraid, my dear?"

"Afraid that I love Mr Melton very dearly."

She hid her face upon the withered old hand, and the burning blood crimsoned her soft white neck at this avowal.

"Well--well--well! He--he--he!" chuckled the old man. "I--I--I don't see anything so very shocking in that, Maude. Charley Melton is a doosed fine fellow, and I like him very much indeed."

"Oh, papa, papa," cried Maude joyfully; and she turned, flung her arms round his neck, and hid her face in his bosom.

"Yes, Maude," he continued. "He's a gentleman, and a man of honour, though he's poor like the rest of us."

"Thank G.o.d--thank G.o.d!" murmured Maude, as the words made her heart throb with joy.

"His father was a gentleman too and a man of honour, though a bit wild.

He was my junior at Eton. I like Charley Melton, and though I should hate the man who tried to rob me of my little pet here, I don't think I should be very hard on him."

"Yap--yap--yap!" came from the back drawing-room, and the old gentleman looked inquiringly at his child.

"It is a pet dog," she said contemptuously, "that Sir Grantley Wilters has brought as a present for me."

"Don't have it, my dear," said the old gentleman, eagerly. "I wouldn't.

He's a miserable screw of a fellow, that Wilters. I don't like him, and her ladys.h.i.+p's always trying to bring him forward. She'll be wanting to make him marry you next."

"Didn't you know, papa?" cried Maude.

"Know, my darling? Know what?"

"He has proposed to mamma for my hand."

"Then--then--then," cried the old man, indignantly, "he--he--he shan't have it. If my Maude is to be nurse to any man, she shall be nurse to me. He--he don't want a wife."

The old man shook his head angrily, and then patted and caressed the fair young girl who clung to him for protection. What his protection was worth he showed when a carriage stopped at the door, and her ladys.h.i.+p's trumpet tones were heard soon after on the stairs.

Lady Maude's Mania Part 17

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Lady Maude's Mania Part 17 summary

You're reading Lady Maude's Mania Part 17. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 486 views.

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