"I have no reason in the world. He is a good-natured, gentlemanly fellow;
and I know no ill of him, except that he is always getting into scrapes,
and dropping, as I hear, a lot of money. But if he got out of his last
guinea, and went almost in rags, it would be nothing to me; so _that's_
not it. One does take antipathies; I dare say you do, Miss Ashton. What a
blessing Hartledon did not die in that fever he caught last year! Val
would have inherited. What a mercy!"
"That he lived? or that Val is not Lord Hartledon?"
"Both. But I believe I meant that Val is not reigning."
"You think he would not have made a worthy inheritor?"
"A worthy inheritor? Oh, I was not glancing at that phase of the
question. Here he comes! I will give up my seat to him."
It is possible Lady Maude expected some pretty phrases of affection;
begging her to keep it. If so, she was mistaken. Anne Ashton was one of
those essentially quiet, self-possessed girls in society, whose manners
seem almost to border on apathy. She did not say "Do go," or "Don't go."
She was perfectly passive; and Maude moved away half ashamed of herself,
and feeling, in spite of her jealousy and her prejudice, that if ever
there was a ladylike girl upon earth, it was Anne Ashton.
"How do you like her, Anne?" asked Val Elster, dropping into the vacant
place.
"Not much."
"Don't you? She is very handsome."
"Very handsome indeed. Quite beautiful. But still I don't like her."
"You would like her if you knew her. She has a rare spirit, only the old
dowager keeps it down."
"I don't think she much likes you, Val."
"She is welcome to dislike me," returned Val Elster.
CHAPTER VI.
AT THE BRIDGE.
The famous boat-race was postponed. Some of the competitors had
discovered they should be the better for a few days' training, and the
contest was fixed for the following Monday.
Not a day of the intervening week but sundry small cockle-shells--things
the ladies had already begun to designate as the "wager-boats," each
containing a gentleman occupant, exercising his arms on a pair of
sculls--might be seen any hour passing and repassing on the water; and
the green slopes of Hartledon, which here formed the bank of the river,
grew to be tenanted with fair occupants. Of course they had their
favourites, these ladies, and their little bets of gloves on them.
As the day for the contest drew near the interest became really exciting;
and on the Saturday morning there was quite a crowd on the banks. The
whole week, since Monday, had been most beautiful--calm, warm, lovely.
Percival Elster, in his rather idle fashion, was not going to join in the
contest: there were enough without him, he said.
He was standing now, talking to Anne. His face wore a sad expression,
as she glanced up at him from beneath the white feather of her rather
large-brimmed straw hat. Anne had been a great deal at Hartledon that
week, and was as interested in the race as any of them, wearing Lord
Hartledon's colours.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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