“Why? Do you think there is anything between them?”
“I never said so. I know very well what I think.”
Colonel Beatty smoked a while in silence. Then, seeing Mary come from the house, carrying a box of colors, he busied himself with his pipe, and strolled away.
“What is the matter?” said Mary.
“Nothing that I am aware of,” said Mrs. Beatty. “Why?”
“You do not look happy. And Uncle Richard’s shoulders have a resigned set, as if he had been blown up lately.”
“Ha! Oh! You are a wonderful observer, Mary. Are you going out?”
“I am waiting for Adrian.”
Mary went round the garden in search of a flower. She was adorning her bosom with one, when Mrs. Beatty, who had been pretending to read, could contain herself no longer, and exclaimed:
“Now, Mary, it is of no use your asking Richard to get that man as bandmaster. He shall not do it.”
“So that is what was the matter,” said Mary coolly.
“I mean what I say, Mary. He shall never show his face in Windsor again with my consent.”
“He shows his face there once a week already, aunt. Miss Cairns writes to say that he has a singing class at their house, and three pianoforte pupils in the neighborhood.”
“If I had known that,” said Mrs Beatty, angrily, “I should not have left Windsor. It is of a piece with the rest of his conduct. However, no matter. We shall see how long he will keep his pupils after I go back.”
“Why, aunt? Would you take away his livelihood because you do not happen to like him personally?”
“I have nothing to do with his livelihood. I do not consider it proper for him to be at Windsor, after being dismissed by Richard. There are plenty of other places for him to go to. I have quite made up my mind on the subject. If you attempt to dispute me, I shall be offended.”
“I have made up my mind too. Whatever mischief you may do to Mr Jack at Windsor will be imputed to me, aunt.”
“I never said that I would do him any mischief.’
“You said you would drive him out of Windsor. As he lives by his teaching, I think that would be as great a mischief as it is in your power to do him.”
“Well, I cannot help it. It is your fault.”
“If I have helped to get him the pupils, and am begging you not to interfere with him, how is it my fault?”
“Ah! I thought you had something to do with it. And now let me tell you, Mary, that it is perfectly disgraceful, the open way in which you hanker after—”
“Aunt!”
“ — that common man. I wonder at a girl of your tastes and understanding having so little selfrespect as to to let everybody see that your head has been turned by a creature without polish or appearance — not even a gentleman. And all this too while you are engaged to Adrian Herbert, his very opposite in every respect. I tell you, Mary, it’s not proper: it’s not decent. A tutor! If it were anybody else it would not matter so much — but Oh for shame, Mary, for shame.”
“Aunt Jane—”
“Hush, for goodness sake. Here he is.”
“Who?” cried Mary, turning quickly. But it was only Adrian, equipped for sketching.
“Good morning,” he said gaily, but with a thoughtful, polite gaiety. “This is the very sky we want for that bit of the undercliff.”
“We were just saying how late you were,” said Mrs Beatty graciously. He shook her hand, and looked in some surprise at Mary, whose expression, as she stood motionless, puzzled him.
“Do you know what we were really saying when you interrupted us, Adrian?”
“Mary,” exclaimed Mrs. Beatty.
“Aunt Jane was telling me,” continued Mary, not heeding her, “that I was hankering after Mr Jack, and that my conduct was not decent. Have you ever remarked anything indecent about my conduct, Adrian?”
Herbert looked helplessly from her to her aunt in silence. Mrs. Beatty’s confusion, culminating in a burst of tears, relieved him from answering.
“Do not listen to her,” she said presently, striving to control herself. “She is an ungrateful girl.”
“I have quoted her exact words,” said Mary, unmoved; “and I am certainly not grateful for them. Come, Adrian. We had better lose no more time if we are to finish our sketches before luncheon?”
“But we cannot leave Mrs. Beatty in this—”
“Never mind me: I am ashamed of myself for giving way, Mr Herbert. It was not your fault. I had rather not detain you.”
Adrian hesitated. But seeing that he had better go, he took up his bundle of easels and stools, and went out with Mary, who did not even look at her aunt. They had gone some distance before either spoke. Then he said, “I hope Mrs Beatty has not been worrying you, Mary?”
“If she has, I do not think she will do it again without serious reflexion. I have found that the way to deal with worldly people is to frighten them by repeating their scandalous whisperings aloud. Oh, I was very angry that time, Adrian.”
“But what brought Jack on the carpet again? I thought we were rid of him and done with him?”
“I heard that he was very badly off in London; and I asked Colonel Beatty to get him made bandmaster of the regiment in place of John Sebastian Clifton — the man you used to laugh at — who is going to America. Then Aunt Jane interfered, and imputed motives to my intercession — such motives as she could appreciate herself.”
“But bow did you find out Jack’s position in London.”
“From Madge Brailsford, who is taking lessons from him. Why? Are you jealous?”
“If you really mean that question, it will spoil my day’s work, or rather my day’s pleasure; for my work is all pleasure, nowadays.”
“No, of course I do not mean it. I beg your pardon.”
“Will you make a new contract with me, Mary’”
“What is it?”
“Never to allude to that execrable musician again. I have remarked that his name alone suffices to breed discord everywhere.”
“It is true,” said Mary, laughing. “I have quarreled a little with Madge, a great deal with Aunt Jane, almost with you, and quite with Charlie about him.”
Then let us consider him, from henceforth, in the Index expurgatorius. I swear never to mention him on a sketching excursion — never at all, in fact, unless on very urgent occasion, which is not likely to arise. Will you swear also?”
“I swear,” said Mary, raising her hand.” Lo giuroas they say in the Opera. But without prejudice to his bandmastership.”
“As to that, I am afraid you have spoiled his chance with Colonel Aunt Jane?”
“Yes,” said Mary slowly: “I forgot that. I was thinking only of my own outraged feelings when I took my revenge. And I had intended to coax her into seconding me in the matter.”
Herbert laughed.
“It is not at all a thing to be laughed at, Adrian, when you come to think of it. I used to fancy that I had set myself aside from the ordinary world to live a higher life than most of those about me. But I am beginning to find out that