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JOAN HASTE

with a second gun, and on account of his reputation of being the best shot present.

«The wind is rising fast and blowing straight down the cover», said Mr. Levinger, when he had completed his arrangements; «those wild-bred birds will take some stopping, unless I am much mistaken. I tell you what, Graves: I bet you half a crown that you don’t kill a pheasant for every four cartridges you fire, taking them as they come, without shirking the hard ones».

«All right», answered Henry, «I can run to that»; and they both laughed, while Emma, who was standing by, dressed in a pretty grey tweed costume, looked pleased to see her father show so much interest in anything.

Ten minutes passed, and a shrill whistle, blown far away at the end of the cover, announced that the beaters were about to start. Henry cocked his gun and waited, till presently a brace of pheasants were seen coming towards him with the wind in their tails, and at a tremendous height, one bird being some fifty yards in front of the other.

«Over you, Graves», said Mr. Levinger.

Henry waited till the first bird was at the proper angle, and fired both barrels, aiming at least three yards ahead of him; but without producing the slightest effect upon the old cock, which sailed away serenely. Snatching his second gun with an exclamation, he repeated the performance at the hen that followed, and with a similar lack of result.

«There go four cartridges, anyway», said Mr. Levinger.

«It isn’t fair to count them», answered Henry, laughing; «those birds were clean out of shot».

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«Yes, out of your shot, Graves. You were yards behind them. You mustn’t be content with aiming ahead here, especially in this wind; if you don’t swing as well, you’ll scarcely kill a bird. Look out: here comes another. There! you’ve missed him again. Swing, man, swing!»

By this time Henry was fairly nettled, for, chancing to look round, he saw Emma was laughing at his discomfiture. The next time a bird came over him he took his host’s advice and «swung» with a vengeance, and down it fell far behind him, dead as a stone.

«That’s better, Graves; you caught him in the head».

Now the fun became fast and furious, and Emma, watching Henry’s face as he fired away with as much earnestness and energy as though the fate of the British Empire depended upon each shot, thought that he was quite handsome. Handsome he was not, nor ever would be; but it is true that, like most Englishmen, he looked his best in his rough shooting clothes and when intent upon his sport. Five minutes more, and the firing, which had been continuous all along the line, began to slacken, and then died away altogether, Henry distinguishing himself by killing the last two birds that flew over with a brilliant right and left. Still, when the slain came to be counted it was found that he had lost his bet by one cartridge.

«Don’t be depressed», said Levinger, as he pocketed the half-crown; «the other fellows have done much worse. I don’t believe that young Jones has touched a feather. The fact is that a great many of the birds you fired at were quite impossible. I never remember seeing them fly so high and fast before. But then this wood has not been shot in half a gale of wind for

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many years. And now I must say good-bye to these gentleman and be off, or I shall get a chill. You’ll see my daughter home, won’t you?»

As it chanced, Emma had gone to fetch a pheasant which she said had fallen in the edge of the plantation behind them. When she returned with the bird, it was impossible for her to accompany her father, even if she wished to do so, for he had already driven away.

Henry congratulated her upon the skill with which she had marked down the cock, at the same time announcing his intention of reclaiming the half-crown from her father. Then, having given his guns to the loader, they started for the high road, accompanied by the two pupils of the neighbouring clergyman. A few hundred yards farther on these young gentlemen went upon their way rejoicing, bearing with them a leash of pheasants and a hare.

«You must show me the road home, Miss Levinger», said Henry, by way of making conversation, for they were now alone.

«The shortest path is along the cliff, if you think that we can get over the fence», she answered.

The hedge did not prove unclimbable, and presently they were walking along the edge of the cliff. Below them foamed an angry sea, for the tide was high, driven shoreward by the weight of the easterly gale, while to the west the sky was red with the last rays of a wintry sunset.

For a while they walked in silence, which Emma broke, saying, «The sea is very beautiful to-night, is it not?»

«It is always beautiful to me», he answered.

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«I see that you have not got over leaving the Navy yet, Sir Henry».

«Well, Miss Levinger, to tell you the truth I haven’t had a very pleasant time ever since I came ashore. One way and another there have been nothing but sorrow and worries and disagreeables, till often and often I have wished myself off the coast of Newfoundland, with ice about and a cotton-wool fog, or anywhere else that is dangerous and unpleasant».

«I know that you have had plenty of trouble, Sir Henry», she said in her gentle voice, «and your father’s death must have been a great blow to you. But perhaps your fog will lift, as I suppose that it does sometimes – even on the coast of Newfoundland».

«I hope so; it is time that it did», he answered absently, and then for a minute was silent. He felt that, if he meant to propose, now was his chance, but for the life of him he could not think how to begin. It was an agonising moment, and, though the evening had turned bitterly cold, he became aware that the perspiration was running down his forehead.

«Miss Levinger», he said suddenly, «I have something to ask you».

«To ask me, Sir Henry? What about?»

«About – about yourself. I wish to ask you if you will honour me by promising to become my wife?»

Emma heard, and, stopping suddenly in her walk, looked round as though to find a refuge, but seeing none went on again.

«Miss Levinger», Henry continued, «I am not skilled at this sort of thing, and I hope that you will make allowances for

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my awkwardness. Do you think that you could care enough for me to marry me? I know very well that I have little to recommend me, and there are circumstances connected with my financial position which make it almost presumptuous that I should ask you».

«I think, Sir Henry», she answered, speaking for the first time, «that we may leave money matters out of the question. I have heard something of the state of affairs at Rosham, and I know that you are not responsible for it, though you are expected by others to remedy it».

«It is very generous of you to speak like that, Miss Levinger; and it helps me out of a great difficulty, for I could not see how I was to explain all this business to you».

«I think that it is only just, Sir Henry, not generous. Provided that there is enough on one side or the other, money is not the principal question to be considered».

«No, Miss Levinger, I agree with you, though I have known others who thought differently. The main thing is whether you can care enough about me».

«That is one thing, Sir Henry», she answered in a low voice; «also there are others».

«I suppose that you mean whether or no I am worthy of you, Miss Levinger. Well, even though it should destroy my chances with you, I will tell you frankly that, in my judgment, I am not. Listen, Miss Levinger: till within a few months ago I had never cared about any woman; then I saw you for the second time, and thought you the sweetest lady that I had ever met, for I understood how good and true you are, and in my heart I hoped that a day would come when I might venture to

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ask you what I am asking you now. Afterwards trouble arose through my own weakness and folly – trouble between myself and another woman. I am sure that you will not press me for details, because, in order to give them, I must betray another person’s secret. To be brief, I should probably have married this woman, but she threw me over and chose another man».

«What!» said Emma, startled out of her self-control, «is Joan Haste married?»

«I see that you know more about me than I thought. She is married – to Mr. Samuel Rock».

«I cannot understand it at all; it is almost incredible». «Nor can I, but the fact remains. She wrote to tell me of it

herself, and, what is more, her husband showed me the marriage certificate. And now I have made a clean breast of it, for I will not sail under false colours, and you must judge me. If you choose to take me, I promise you that no woman shall ever have a better husband than I will be to you, for your happiness and welfare shall be the first objects of my life. The question is, after what I have told you, can you care for me?»

Emma stopped, for all this while they had been walking slowly, and looked him full in the eyes, a last red ray of the dying light falling on her sweet face.

«Sir Henry», she said, «you have been frank with me, and I honour you for it, none the less because I happen to know something of the story. And now I will be equally frank with you, though to do so is humbling to me. When I stayed in the same house with you more than two years ago, you took little notice of me, but I grew fond of you, and I have never changed my mind. Still I do not think that, as things are,

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I should marry you on this account alone, seeing that a woman looks for love in her marriage; and, Sir Henry, in all that you have said to me you have spoken no word of love».

«How could I, knowing what I had to tell you?» he broke in. «I cannot say, but it is so; and therefore, speaking for myself alone, I should be inclined to answer you that we had best go our separate ways in life, though I am sure that, as you promise, you would be a good and kind husband to me. But there are other people to be considered; there is my father, who is most anxious that I should make a satisfactory marriage – such as I know this would be for me, for I am nobody and scarcely recognised in society here – and who has the greatest respect and affection for you, as he had for your father before you. Then there is your family: if I refuse you it would mean that you would all be ruined, and though it may hurt your pride to hear

me say so, I shrink from such a thought»

«Oh! pray do not let that weigh with you», he interrupted. «You know well that, although much of what you say is unhappily true, I am not seeking you that you may mend my broken fortunes, but because you are what you are, and I desire above all things to make you my wife».

«I am sorry, Sir Henry, but, though I believe every word you say, I must let it weigh with me, for I wish to be a blessing to those about me, and not a curse. Well, for all these reasons, and chiefly perhaps, to be honest, because I am fond of you though you do not care very much for me, I will be your wife, Sir Henry, as you are good enough to wish it», and she gave him her hand.

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CHAPTER XXXVI

THE DESIRE OF DEATH – AND THE FEAR OF HIM

Joan remained at Kent Street, and the weary days crept on. When the first excitement of her self-sacrifice had faded from her mind, she lapsed into a condition of melancholy that was pitiable to see. Every week brought her rambling and impassioned epistles from her husband, most of which she threw into the fire half-read. At length there came one that she perused eagerly enough, for it announced the approaching marriage of Sir Henry Graves and Miss Levinger – tidings which were confirmed in a few brief words by a note from Mr. Levinger himself, enclosing her monthly allowance; for from Samuel as yet she would take nothing. Then in January another letter reached her, together with a copy of the local paper, describing the ceremony, the presents, the dress and appearance «of the lovely bride and the gallant bridegroom, Captain Sir Henry Graves, Bart., R.N».

«At least I have not done all this for nothing», said Joan, as she threw down the paper; and then for the rest of that day she lay upon her bed moaning with the pain of her bitter jealousy and immeasurable despair.

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She felt now that, had she known what she must suffer, she would never have found the strength to act as she had done, and time upon time did she regret that she had allowed her impulses to carry her away. Rock had been careful to inform her of his interview with Henry, putting his own gloss upon what passed between them; and the knowledge that her lover must hate and despise her was the sharpest arrow of the many which were fixed in her poor heart. All the rest she could bear, but than this Death himself had been more kind. How pitiable was her state! – scorned by Henry, of whose child she must be the mother, but who was now the loving husband of another woman, and given over to a man she hated, and who would shortly claim his bond. Alas! no regrets, however poignant, could serve to undo the past, any more than the fear of it could avert the future; for Mrs. Bird was right – as she had sown so she must reap.

One by one the weary days crept on till at length the long London winter gave way to spring, and the time of her trial grew near. In health she remained fairly well, since sorrow works slowly upon so vigorous a constitution; but the end of each week found her sadder and more broken in spirit than its beginning. She had no friends, and went out but little – indeed, her only relaxations were found in reading, with a vague idea of improving her mind, because Henry had once told her to do so, or conversing in the deaf-and-dumb language with Jim and Sally. Still her life was not an idle one, for as time went by the shadow of a great catastrophe fell upon the Kent Street household. Mrs. Bird’s eyesight began to fail her, and

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