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Munafa ebook

Munafa ebook

Read Ebook: Married or single? Vol. 3 (of 3) by Croker B M Bithia Mary

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Ebook has 580 lines and 36870 words, and 12 pages

"Divorce? No. Nothing of the kind; but Mr. Wynne and I have agreed to be--be strangers, and to forget that we have ever been married; and as I am only known to most people as Miss West, it will be quite easy."

Madeline sat in silence, feeling very uncomfortable and wretched; but all the same, obstinately bent on her own way.

"Mrs. Holt, you forget there are two sides to a question," she said at last. "I know you mean very kindly; but I have to consider my father. He has no one but me. He is an invalid, and I am his only child, and must study his wishes."

"Yes, I would," retorted Madeline, stung by the sneer; "but I see you are prejudiced, Mrs. Holt. You forget what the Bible says about honouring your father and mother."

At eleven o'clock the fly-man notified that time was up, and the lady must go if she wanted to catch her train. She kissed little Harry over and over again, and wept one or two tears as she said--

"How I wish I could take him with me, even if I could smuggle him as my maid's little boy!"

"Mind you write to me often, Mrs. Holt--even one line. I have left you a packet of addressed and stamped envelopes. Please write at least once a week," and, with a hurried good-bye she stepped into the fly, pulled down her veil, and was driven off, leaving Mrs. Holt and her son upon the steps, the former exclaiming--

"Well, if she don't beat all!" whilst Master Wynne dragged violently at her apron, and, pointing to the rapidly disappearing carriage, shouted gleefully--

"Gee-gee! Gee-gee!"

"It is all right, my dear," whispered Mrs. Leach, receiving her with a significant nod. "I told your father you had gone to lunch with the Countess of Cabinteely, and he was perfectly satisfied."

In another week Madeline was very pleasantly settled in a charming villa at Nice looking out over the blue tideless sea and the Promenade des Anglais. She had a landau and pair, a pony carriage, and an "at home" day, for not a few of their London acquaintances, early as it was, had come south.

Her father rapidly regained his usual health and amiability, and lavished presents upon her. The horizon before her was literally and metaphorically bright. She was surrounded by quite a brilliant pageantry of flatterers and followers, and could not help feeling a pardonable pride in the sensation she created and in her remarkable social triumphs--in finding bouquets left daily at her door, in seeing her name in enthusiastic little paragraphs in the local papers, in hearing that the fact of her expected presence brought numbers to an assembly or entertainment in order to see the lovely Miss West, to know that she had not an ambition in the world unfulfilled.

"HONOURED MADAM,

"I think it rite to let you no, as little Harry has been verry poorly the last two days; in case he is not better I think you ought to know, and mite wish to come home. It's his back teath. The Docter looked very cerrius last evening, and spoke of konvulshions, but I don't wish to frighten you.

"I am your humble servant, "KATE HOLT."

This was a heavy blow. The rush of maternal impulse swept everything else out of her mind. Madeline thrust aside her diamonds, ball dress, masks, bouquets, and hurried off on foot to the telegraph office, and despatched a message--"If he is not better I start to-night; reply paid." And then she returned to the Villa Coralie, quivering and trembling with impatience.

In case of the worst, she told Josephine to pack a few things, as she might be going to England that night by the Rapide.

Josephine's jaw dropped; she was enjoying herself enormously. One of the waiters at the Cercle was her cousin. The carnival was just commencing; this was terrible--must she he torn away too! Her face expressed her feelings most accurately, and her mistress hastened to reassure her.

"I shall not require you, Josephine; I only go to see a sick friend. If I hear no good news, I start this evening; if the tidings are better, I remain--but I am almost sure to go."

"Et monsieur?" elevating hands and eyebrows.

Yes, how was she to announce her departure to her father? She made the plunge at once. Her fears and her anxieties were not on his account now. She was desperate, and ready to brave anything or anybody.

"Papa, I've had bad news from England. A--one who is very dear to me is ill, and if I don't hear better news by telegram, I wish to start to-night for London."

The matter was decided. But Madeline was resolved to make an equal show of determination, and said, in a stubborn tone--

"Papa, in this I must have my way. It is not often I take my own course; I do everything and go everywhere to please you. You must allow me to please myself for once."

Mr. West pushed back his chair a full yard, and gazed at his daughter.

"Do not throw any obstacle in my way, papa, nor seek to know where I am going."

"Ah, ah! Not a lover, I hope, madam?" he gasped. "The curate, the--the drawing-master?"

"Well, well, well! How much cash do you require, and when will you be back?"

"I have plenty of money. If all goes well, I shall be back in a few days--as soon as possible--for the regatta, perhaps."

And so, with a few more remarks and assurances, and expostulations on Mr. West's part at her travelling alone, she pocketed a cheque pressed upon her, and left the room victorious.

Her father was easier to deal with than she had anticipated. Laurence was right--for once!

At last there was a knock at the door--Josephine's knock. Josephine's voice, "Une d?p?che pour vous, mademoiselle."

The sender's name was not notified. Whoever it was, it mattered little; the relief was inexpressible. What a fright Mrs. Holt had given her, and all for nothing!

Miss West went to the ball that night, and danced until the dawn flickered along the horizon. She was one of the most brilliant figures at the carnival, and received marked notice in distinguished quarters. At the battle of flowers, she and her equipage were the cynosure of all eyes. The open victoria was made to counterfeit a crown, and covered with pink and white azaleas. Miss West was attired to correspond. Four beautiful white horses were harnessed in pink, and ridden by postilions in pink satin jackets; and the general effect was such that the committee promptly awarded the first banner to "la belle Anglaise," despite the close rivalry of a celebrated demi-mondaine, who furiously flung the second banner in the faces of the judges, and, with her yellow flowers and four black ponies, had whirled off in high dudgeon and a cloud of dust.

At last this enchanting period was brought to an end by the Riviera's own best patron--the sun. People melted away as if by magic. Some went on to the Italian lakes, some to Switzerland, many to England. Madeline and her father deferred their return until the end of May, stopping in Paris en route; and when they reached home the season was at its height, and the hall and library tables were white from a heavy fall of visiting-cards and notes of invitation.

Lady Rachel and Lord Tony came in on the evening of their arrival to pay a little neighbourly call, and to tell them that they must on no account miss a great match--the final in a polo tournament at Hurlingham--the next afternoon. Every one would be there.

This speech acted as a trumpet-call to Mr. West.

"Every one will see that we have returned," he said to himself, and it will save a lot of trouble. Then, aloud, "All right, then, Lady Rachel, we shall certainly go. Madeline must trot out some one of her smart Paris frocks. And, Madeline, you might send a wire over to Mrs. Leach, and offer her a seat down."

MR. JESSOP'S SUGGESTION.

Laurence Wynne had taken but one person into his confidence, and that was Mr. Jessop. As he sat smoking a post-midnight cigar over the fire in his friend's chambers, he told him that Mrs. Wynne no longer existed. She preferred to stick to her name of West, and wished to keep her marriage a secret always from--not alone her father, but the whole world.

This much he had divulged. He felt that he must speak to some one. His heart was so sore that he could not maintain total silence, and who so fitting a confidant as his old friend Dick Jessop? He was chivalrous to Madeline in spite of all that had come and gone, and veiled her defects as skilfully as he could, not speaking out of the full bitterness of his soul. But Mr. Jessop's active imagination filled in all the delicately traced outline--perhaps in rather too black a shading, if the truth were known!

However, he kept his surmises discreetly to himself, and puffed and pondered for a long time in silence. At last he spoke.

"I would let her alone, and not bother my head about her, Laurence! She is bound to come back."

"I don't think so," responded the other, curtly.

"Yes; she will return on account of the child."

"I know of something that would bring her, like a shot out of a seventy-four pounder," observed Mr. Jessop after another pause, surveying the coals meditatively as he spoke.

"What?"

"Yes, marry in haste, and repent at leisure!" said Mr. Jessop, grimly.

"I don't mean that; I mean that I mulled that business at Mrs. Harper's. I should have wired to Mrs. Wolferton, or insisted on Mrs. Harper taking Madeline back, and given her time to turn round and to reflect; but I rushed the whole thing. However, I must now abide by the position I am placed in with what fortitude I can."

"You married her, and gave her a home, when she had no friend," put in Mr. Jessop, sharply. Mr. Jessop was devoted to Laurence, and excessively angry with Laurence's wife.

"It is not every one I would confide in, Dick," said his companion; "but you are my oldest chum. You are welcome to be introduced to the skeleton in my cupboard--an old friend's privilege. We need never talk of this again. I suppose people get over these things in time! There is nothing for it but work--plenty of work."

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