The Strand Magazine, Vol. 07, Issue 40, April, 1894: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 07, Issue 40, April, 1894: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
She was crossing the room to speak to some of the other guests when
Carleton came up to her.
"I want to say something to you," he said--"can we go to some room
where we shall be quite undisturbed?"
His words were distinctly audible, not only to me, but to several other
people in the room.
Randall in particular heard them, and I could see that he was waiting
anxiously for the reply.
"I want to ride this morning. I have no time for private confidences,"
replied Miss Farnham, in a distinctly vexed tone.
"I won't keep you long," replied Carleton--"what I have to say is of
great importance, at least to me."
"I will give you ten minutes after lunch; will that suffice?"
"Five minutes now will do better. I am very much in earnest when I make
this request."
"Very well," said Miss Farnham, in a light tone; "importunate people
generally have their way. Come into the conservatory--there is a rose
there on which I have set my heart; it is too high for me to reach."
She left the room as she spoke, and Carleton quickly followed her. As
they disappeared, I noticed more than one guest looking significantly
after them. Carleton's pluck was distinctly approved of--I could see
that by the expression on some of the ladies' faces and one, as she
passed close to Randall's side, was heard to murmur, audibly:--
"Faint heart never won fair lady."
Randall came up to me and asked me to join him in a smoke on the
balcony. As we walked up and down, he talked cheerfully, and, whatever
anxiety he may inwardly have felt, was careful not to betray a trace of
it.
In less than half an hour Miss Farnham joined us. She was in a dark
brown riding-habit, which toned perfectly with her rich and peculiar
colouring. Her spirits were gay, not to say wild, and the warm, creamy
whiteness of her face seemed to glow now as if with hidden fire.
"Are you not ready for your ride?" she said, looking at me with a
certain reproach. "The horses will be round in less than ten minutes.
It is a splendid morning for a gallop. You are coming, too?" she added,
turning suddenly to Randall.
"I only waited for you to invite me," he said. "Of course I shall come,
with pleasure. But I thought," he added, in a low tone, coming close to
her side as he spoke, "that you arranged to ride with Ronald Carleton
this morning?"
"That is off," she replied, in a light tone. "Mr. Carleton has, I
believe, another engagement."
The balcony on which we were walking led round to one of the entrances
to the house; at this moment a groom was seen leading a smart mare up
to the door, and at the same instant Carleton ran down the steps, and
sprang lightly into the saddle.
"Where are you off to?" exclaimed Randall, bending out of the balcony
to speak to him. "Miss Farnham, Dr. Halifax, and I are all going out
immediately. Won't you join us?"
"Not this morning, I think," said Carleton, constraint in his tone. He
gathered up the reins, and the mare began to prance about.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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