by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER I
THE CHRISTMAS TREE
Two old ladies sat in the corner of the drawing-room. The younger--acolonial cousin of the elder--was listening eagerly to gossip whichdealt with English society in general, and Rickwell society inparticular. They presumably assisted in the entertainment of thechildren already gathered tumultuously round the Christmas tree,provided by Mr. Morley; but Mrs. Parry's budget of scandal was toointeresting to permit the relaxing of Mrs. McKail's attention.
"Ah yes," said Mrs. Parry, a hatchet-faced dame with a venomous tongueand a retentive memory, "Morley's fond of children, although he has noneof his own."
"But those three pretty little girls?" said Mrs. McKail, who was fat,fair, and considerably over forty.
"Triplets," replied the other, sinking her voice. "The only case oftriplets I have met with, but not his children. No, Mrs. Morley was awidow with triplets and money. Morley married her for the last, and hadto take the first as part of the bargain. I don't deny but what he doeshis duty by the three."
Mrs. McKail's keen grey eyes wander to the fat, rosy little man wholaughingly struggled amidst a bevy of children, the triplets included."He seems fond of them," said she, nodding.
"Seems!" emphasised Mrs. Parry shrewdly. "Ha! I don't trust the man. Ifhe were all he seems, would his wife's face wear that expression? No,don't tell me."
Mrs. Morley was a tall, lean, serious woman, dressed in sober grey. Shecertainly looked careworn, and appeared to participate in thefestivities more as a duty than for the sake of amusement. "He is saidto be a good husband," observed Mrs. McKail doubtfully. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure of nothing where men are concerned. I wouldn't trust one ofthem. Morley is attentive enough to his wife, and he adores thetriplets--so he says; but I go by his eye. Orgy is written in that eye.It can pick out a pretty woman, my dear. Oh, his wife doesn't look sickwith anxiety for nothing!"
"At any rate, he doesn't seem attentive to that pretty girl overthere--the one in black with the young man."
"Girl! She's twenty-five if she's an hour. I believe she paints and putsbelladonna in her eyes. I wouldn't have her for my governess. No, she'stoo artful, though I can't agree with you about her prettiness."
"Is she the governess?"
Mrs. Parry nodded, and the ribbons on her cap curled like Medusa'ssnakes. "For six months Mrs. Morley has put up with her. She teaches theTricolor goodness knows what."
"The Tricolor?"
"So we call the triplets. Don't you see one is dressed in red, anotherin white, and the third in blue? Morley's idea, I believe. As though aman had any right to interest himself in such things. We call themcollectively the Tricolor, and Anne Denham is the governess. Pretty? No.Artful? Yes. See how she is trying to fascinate Ware!"
"That handsome young man with the fair moustache and----"
"The same," interrupted Mrs. Parry, too eager to blacken character togive her friend a chance of concluding her sentence. "Giles Ware, ofKingshart--the head of one of our oldest Essex families. He came intothe estates two years ago, and has settled down into a country squireafter a wild life. But the old Adam is in him, my dear. Look at hissmile--and she doesn't seem to mind. Brazen creature!" And Mrs. Parryshuddered virtuously.
The other lady thought that Ware had a most fascinating smile, and was aremarkably handsome young man of the fair Saxon type. He certainlyappeared to be much interested in the conversation of Miss Denham. Butwhat young man could resist so beautiful a woman? For in spite of Mrs.Parry's disparagement Anne was a splendidly handsome brunette--"with atemper," added Mrs. McKail mentally, as she eyed the well-suited couple.
Mrs. Parry's tongue still raged like a prairie fire. "And she knows he'sengaged," she snorted. "Look at poor Daisy Kent out in the cold, whilethat woman monopolizes Ware! Ugh!"
"Is Miss Kent engaged to Mr. Ware?"
"For three years they have been engaged--a family arrangement, Iunderstand. The late Kent and the late Ware," explained Mrs. Parry, whoalways spoke thus politely of men, "were the greatest of friends, whichI can well understand, as each was an idiot. However, Ware died firstand left his estate to Giles. A few months later Kent died and madeMorley the guardian of his daughter Daisy, already contracted to bemarried to Giles."
"Does he love her?"
"Oh, he's fond of her in a way, and he is anxious to obey the last wishof his father. But it seems to me that he is more in love with thatblack cat."
"Hush! You will be heard."
Mrs. Parry snorted. "I hope so, and by the cat herself," she saidgrimly. "I can't bear the woman. If I were Mrs. Morley I'd have her outof the house in ten minutes. Turn her out in the snow to cool her hotblood. What right has she to attract Ware and make him neglect that dearangel over there? See, yonder is Daisy. There's a face, there's charm,there's hair!" finished Mrs. Parry, quite unconscious that she was usingthe latest London slang. "I call her a lovely creature."
Mrs. McKail did not agree with her venomous cousin. Daisy was awashed-out blonde with large blue eyes and a slack mouth. Under a hotJuly sky and with a flush of color she would have indeed been pretty;but the cold of winter and the neglect of Giles Ware shrivelled her up.In spite of the warmth of the room, the gaiety of the scene, she lookedpinched and older than her years. But there was some sort of characterin her face, for Mrs. McKail caught her directing a glance full ofhatred at the governess. In spite of her ethereal prettiness, Daisy Kentwas a good hater. Mrs. McKail felt sure of that. "And she is much moreof the cat type than the other one is," thought the observant lady, toowise to speak openly.
However, Mrs. Parry still continued to destroy a character every timeshe opened her mouth. She called the rector a Papist; hinted that thedoctor's wife was no better than she should be; announced that Morleyowed money to his tradesmen, that he had squandered his wife's fortune;and finally wound up by saying that he would spend Daisy Kent's moneywhen he got it. "If it ever does come to her," finished this amiableperson.
"Did her father leave her money?" asked Mrs. McKail.
"He!" snapped the other; "my dear, he was as poor as a church mouse, andleft Daisy only a hundred a year to live on. That is the one decentthing about Morley. He did take Daisy in, and he does treat her well,though to be sure she is a pretty girl, and, as I say, he has an eye."
"Then where does the fortune come from?"
"Kent was a half-brother who went out to America, and it is rumored thathe made a fortune, which he intends to leave to his niece--that's Daisy.But I don't know all the details of this," added Mrs. Parry, rubbing herbeaky nose angrily; "I must find out somehow. But here, my dear, thosechildren are stripping the tree. Let us assist. We must give pleasure tothe little ones. I have had six of my own, all married," ended the goodlady irrelevantly.
She might have added that her four sons and two daughters kept at a safedistance from their respected parent. On occasions she did pay a visitto one or the other, and usually created a disturbance. Yet thisspiteful, mischief-making woman read her Bible, thought herself aChristian, and judged others as harshly as she judged herself leniently.Mrs. McKail was stopping with her, therefore could not tell her what shethought of her behavior; but she privately determined to cut short hervisit and get away from this disagreeable old creature. In the meantimeMrs. Parry, smiling like the wicked fairy godmother with many teeth,advanced to meddle with the Christmas tree and set the children by theears. She was a perfect Ate.
Giles said as much to Miss Denham, and she nervously agreed with him asthough fearful lest her assent should reach the ears of Mrs. Parry."She has no love for me," whispered Anne. "I think you had better talkto Daisy, Mr. Ware."
"I prefer to talk to you," said Giles coolly. "Daisy is like her name--asweet little English meadow flower--and I love her very dearly. But shehas never been out of England, and sometimes we are at a loss what totalk about. Now you?"
"I am a gipsy," interrupted Anne, lest he should say something toocomplimentary; "a she-Ulysses, who has travelled far and wide. I
n spiteof your preference for my conversation, I wish I were Daisy."
"Do you?" asked Ware eagerly. "Why?"
Anne flushed and threw back her head proudly. She could not altogethermisunderstand his meaning or the expression of his eyes, but she stroveto turn the conversation with a laugh. "You ask too many questions, Mr.Ware," she said coldly. "I think Daisy is one of the sweetest of girls,and I envy her. To have a happy home, a kind guardian as Mr. Morley is,and a----" She was about to mention Giles, but prudently suppressed theremark.
"Go on," he said quietly, folding his arms.
She shook her head and bit her lip. "You keep me from my work. I mustattend to my duties. A poor governess, you know." With a laugh shejoined the band of children, who were besieging Morley.
Giles remained where he was, his eyes fixed moodily on the ground. Formore than five months he had fought against an ever-growing passion forthe governess. He knew that he was in honor bound to marry Daisy, andthat she loved him dearly, yet his heart was with Anne Denham. Herbeauty, her brilliant conversation, her charm of manner, all appealed tohim strongly. And he had a shrewd suspicion that she was not altogetherindifferent to him, although she loyally strove to hide her truefeelings. Whenever he became tender, she ruthlessly laughed at him: shetalked constantly of Daisy and of her many charms, and on every occasionstrove to throw her into the company of Giles. She managed to do so onthis occasion, for Giles heard a rather pettish voice at his elbow, andlooked down to behold a flushed face. Daisy was angry, and looked theprettier for her anger.
"You have scarcely spoken to me all night," she said, taking his arm; "Ido think you are unkind."
"My dear, you have been so busy with the children. And, indeed," headded, with a grave smile, "you are scarcely more than a child yourself,Daisy."
"I am woman enough to feel neglect."
"I apologize--on my knees, dearest."
"Oh, it's easy saying so," pouted Daisy, "but you know Anne----"
"What about Miss Denham?" asked Giles, outwardly calm.
"You like her."
"She is a very charming woman, but you are to be my wife. Jealous littlegirl, can I not be ordinarily civil to Miss Denham without you gettingangry?"
"You need not be so _very_ civil."
"I won't speak to her at all if you like," replied Ware, with a fineassumption of carelessness.
"Oh, if you only wouldn't," Daisy stopped--then continued passionately,"I wish she would go away. I don't like her."
"She is fond of you, Daisy."
"Yes. And a cat is fond of a mouse. Mrs. Parry says----"
"Don't quote that odious woman, child," interrupted Ware sharply. "Shehas a bad word for everyone."
"Well, she doesn't like Anne."
"Does she like anyone?" asked Giles coolly. "Come, Daisy, don't wrinkleyour face, and I'll take you out for a drive in my motor-car in a fewdays."
"To-morrow! to-morrow!" cried Daisy, her face wreathed in smiles.
"No. I daren't do that on Christmas Day. What would the rector say? Asthe lord of the manor I must set an example. On Boxing Day if you like."
"We will go alone?"
"Certainly. Who do you expect me to ask other than you?"
"Anne," said Daisy spitefully, and before he could reply she also movedaway to join the children. Giles winced. He felt that he was in thewrong and had given his little sweetheart some occasion for jealousy. Heresolved to mend his ways and shun the too fascinating society of theenchantress. Shaking off his moody feeling, he came forward to assistMorley. The host was a little man, and could not reach the gifts thathung on the topmost boughs of the tree. Giles being tall and having along reach of arm, came to his aid.
"That's right, that's right," gasped Morley, his round face red andshining with his exertions, "the best gifts are up here."
"As the best gifts of man are from heaven," put in Mrs. Parry, with herusual tact.
Morley laughed. "Quite so, quite so," he said, careful as was everyoneelse not to offend the lady, "but on this occasion we can obtain thebest gifts. I and Ware and Mrs. Morley have contributed to the tree. Thechildren have their presents, now for the presents of the grown-ups."
By this time the children were gorged with food and distracted by manypresents. They were seated everywhere, many on the floor, and the roomwas a chaos of dolls, trumpets, toy-horses, and drums. The chatter ofthe children and the noise of the instruments was fearful. But Morleyseemed to enjoy the riot, and even his wife's grave face relaxed whenshe saw her three precious jewels rosy with pleasure. She drew Anne'sattention to them, and the governess smiled sympathetically. Miss Denhamwas popular with everyone save Daisy in that happy home.
Meantime Giles handed down the presents. Mrs. Morley received a chainpurse from her affectionate husband; Mrs. Parry a silver cream-jug,which she immediately priced as cheap; Mrs. McKail laughed delightedlyover a cigarette-case, which she admitted revealed her favorite vice;and the rector was made happy with a motor-bicycle.
"It has been taken to your house this evening," explained Morley. "Wecouldn't put that on the tree. Ha! ha!"
"A muff-chain for Daisy," said Giles, presenting her with the packet,"and I hope you will like it, dear."
"Did you buy it?" she asked, sparkling and palpitating.
"Of course. I bought presents both for you and Miss Denham. Here isyours," he added, turning to the governess, who grew rosy, "a verysimple bangle. I wish it were more worthy of your acceptance," and hehanded it with a bow.
Daisy, her heart filled with jealousy, glided away. Giles saw her face,guessed her feeling, and followed. In a corner he caught her, and placedsomething on her finger. "Our engagement ring," he whispered, and Daisyonce more smiled. Her lover smiled also. But his heart was heavy.
