In Friendship's Guise

  CHAPTER VII.

  LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.

  The trap rattled up crooked George street, and swung around and downto classic-looking Richmond Bridge, with its gorgeous vistas of riverscenery right and left over the low parapets. Madge was very quiet fora time, and it was evident that she felt some misgivings as to thepropriety of what she had consented to do at Jack's urgent request. Shehad left home soon after her father's departure for town, and she mustbe back before six o'clock to meet him on his return. Her secret wasshared with the old servant, Mrs. Sedgwick, who was foolishly fond ofthe girl, and naturally well-disposed toward Jack because he had savedMadge's life. This faithful creature, on the death of her young husbandtwenty years before, had entered Mrs. Foster's service; she practicallymanaged Stephen Foster's establishment, assisted by a housemaid and bythe daily visits of a charwoman.

  Until Richmond was left behind, Jack was as serious and thoughtfulas his companion. He had a high sense of honor, a hatred of anythingunderhanded, and his conscience pricked him a little. However, it wasnot his fault, he told himself. Stephen Foster had no business to bechurlish and ungrateful, and treat his daughter as though she were aschool miss still in her teens. And what wrong could there be about theday's outing together, if no harm was intended? It would all come rightin the end, unless, unless--

  He felt reassured as he stole a glance at Madge's face, and saw her quickblush. She laughed merrily, and nestled a little closer to his side.

  "You are not sorry?" he asked.

  "Sorry? Oh, no. It is so good of you, Jack, and the weather isperfect--we could not have had a better day."

  Their depression vanished like a summer cloud, as they rode throughTwickenham and Teddington, under the shade of the great trees, enjoyingthe occasional views of the shining river, and the peeps into the walledgardens of the fine old houses.

  "It is all new to me," said Madge, with a sigh. "I used to go to HamptonCourt with father on Sundays, but that was long ago; he doesn't take meanywhere now, except to the theatre once or twice a year."

  "It is a shame," Jack replied indignantly, "when you enjoy things somuch."

  "Oh, but I dearly love Strand-on-the-Green. I am very happy there."

  "And you never long for a wider life?"

  "Yes--sometimes. I want to go abroad and travel. It must be delightfulto see the places and countries one has read about, to roam in foreignpicture galleries."

  "I would like to show you the Continent," said Jack. "We have the sametastes, and--"

  A rapturous "Oh!" burst from Madge. They had turned suddenly in atthe gates of Bushey Park, and before them was the twenty-mile-longperspective of the chestnut avenue, bounded by the white sunlit walls ofthe hospitable Greyhound. The girl's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and inher excitement, as some fresh bit of beauty was revealed, she rested atiny gloved hand on Jack's arm.

  "I will take you out often, if you will let me," he said.

  They drove out of the park, and swung around the weather-beaten wall ofHampton Court. Red-coated soldiers were lounging by the barracks in thepalace yard, and the clear notes of a bugle rose from quarters; a tideof people and vehicles was flowing in the sunlight over Molesey Bridge.Jack turned off into the lower river road, and so on by shady andpicturesque ways to the ancient village of Hampton.

  They put up the horse and trap at the Flower Pot, and lunched in thecoffee-room of that old-fashioned hostelry, at a little table laid inthe bow-window, looking out on the quaint high-street. It was a charmingrepast, and both were hungry enough to do it justice. The Chambertinsparkled like rubies as it flowed from the cobwebbed bottle, and Jackneeded little urging from Madge to light a fragrant Regalia.

  Then they sauntered forth into the sunshine, down to the river shore,and Jack chose a big roomy boat, fitted with the softest of red cushions.He pulled for a mile or more up the rippling Thames, chatting gaily withMadge, who sat opposite to him and deftly managed the rudder-ropes. Alittle-known backwater was the goal, and suddenly he drove the boat undera screen of low-drooping bushes and into a miniature lake set in a frameof leafy trees that formed a canopy of dense foliage overhead.

  "What do you think of it?" Jack asked, as he ran the bow gently ashoreand pulled in the oars.

  "It is like fairyland. It is too beautiful for words."

  Madge averted her eyes from his, and pushed back a tress of golden hairthat had strayed from under her hat; she took off one glove, and dippedthe tips of her fingers in the water.

  "I wish I had brought a book," she said. "Why don't you smoke? You havemy permission, sir. But we must not stop long."

  Jack felt for his cigar-case and dropped it again. The next instant hewas beside the girl, and one arm encircled her waist.

  "Madge, my darling!" he cried. "Don't you know--can't you guess--why Ibrought you here?"

  Her silence, the droop of her blushing face, emboldened him. The old,old story, the story that was born when the world began, fell from hislips. They were honest, manly words, with a ring of heartfelt passionand pleading.

  "Have I surprised you, Madge?" he went on. "Have I spoken too soon? Wehave known each other only a short time, it is true, but I could notcare more for you had we been acquainted for months or years. I am notan impulsive boy--I know my own heart. I loved you from the day you cameinto my life. I love you now, and will always love you. I will be a goodand true husband. Have you no answer for me, dear?"

  The girl suddenly raised her face to his. Half-shed tears glistened inher eyes, but there was also a radiant look there which trilled hisheart with unspeakable joy. He knew that he had won her.

  "Madge, my sweet Madge!" he whispered.

  She trembled as his arm tightened about her waist.

  "Jack, do you really, really love me?"

  "More than I can tell you, dear. Can you doubt me? Have you nothing tosay? Do you think it so strange--"

  "Strange? Yes, it is more than I dared to hope for. Don't think meunwomanly, Jack, for telling the truth, but--but I do love you with allmy heart."

  "Madge! You have made me the happiest man alive! God grant that I bealways worthy of your affection!"

  A bird began to sing overhead, and Jack thought it was the sweetestmusic he had ever heard, as he drew Madge to him and pressed a lover'sfirst kiss on her lips. Side by side they sat there in the leafyretreat, heedless of time, while the afternoon sun drooped lower in thesky. They had much to talk of--many little confidences to exchange. Theylived over again the events of that brief period in which they had knowneach other.

  "You have upset all my plans," said Madge, with a pretty pout. "I wasgoing to devote my life to art, and become a second Rosa Bonheur or LadyButler."

  "One artist in the family will be enough," her lover answered,laughingly. "But you shall continue to paint, dearest. We will roamover Europe with our sketch-books."

  "Oh, how delightful! To think of it--my dreams will be realized! Iknew your work, Jack, before I knew you. But I am so ignorant of theworld--even of the little world of London."

  "Madge, you are talking nonsense. You are my queen--you are the dearest,sweetest little woman that ever man won. And I love you the betterbecause you are as fresh and pure as a flower, untainted by the wickedworld, where innocence rubs off her bloom on vice's shoulders. I am notold, dear, but I have lived long enough to appreciate the value of--"

  "Hush, or I shall think you do not mean all you say. Oh, Jack, promiseme that you will never repent of your bargain. I wonder that some womandid not enslave you long ago."

  A shadow crossed Jack's face, and he was silent for a moment.

  "Madge," he said, hesitatingly, "I have not been a bad man in my time,nor have I been a particularly good one. I was an art student in Parisfor years, and Paris is a city of dissipation, full of pitfalls andtemptations to young fellows like myself. There is something connectedwith my past, which I feel it is my duty to--"

  "Don't tell me, Jack--please don't. I might not like to hear it. I willtry to forget that you
had a past, and I will never ask you about it.You are mine now, and we will think only of the present and the future.I trust you, dear, and I know that you are good and true. You willalways love me, won't you?"

  "Always, my darling," Jack replied in a tone of relief. He told himself,as he kissed the troubled look from the girl's eyes, that it was betterto keep silence. What could he gain by dragging up the black skeleton ofthe past? He was a free man now, and the withholding of that bitterchapter of his life would be the wisest course. If the future everbrought it to light, Madge would remember that she herself had checkedthe story on his lips.

  "Jack, you are looking awfully serious."

  "Am I? Well, I won't any more. But, I say, Madge, when will you be mywife? And how about speaking to your father? You know--"

  "I can't tell him yet, Jack, really--you must wait a while. You won'tmind, will you?"

  "I hate this deception."

  "So do I. But father has not been quite himself lately--I thinksomething troubles him."

  "Does he want to marry you to any one else?" Jack asked, jealously. "Isthere anything of the sort between him and that young chap who comes tothe house?"

  "I can't be certain, Jack, but sometimes I imagine so, though fatherhas never spoken to me about it. I dislike Mr. Royle, and discourage hisattentions."

  "His attentions?"

  "Oh, Jack, don't look at me in that way--you make me feel wretched.Won't you trust me and believe me? I love you with all my heart, andI am as really yours as if I were married to you."

  "My darling, I _do_ trust you," he said contritely. "Forgive me--I wasvery foolish. I know that nothing can separate us, and I will await yourown time in patience. And when you are willing to have me speak to yourfather--"

  "It shall be very soon, dear," whispered Madge, looking up at him witha soft light in her eyes. "If I find him in a good humor I will tell himmyself. We are great chums, you know."

  Jack kissed her, and then glanced at his watch.

  "Four o'clock," he said, regretfully. "We must be off."

  He pulled the boat back to Hampton, and ordered the hostler at theFlower Pot to get the trap ready. The world looked different, somehow,to the happy couple, as they drove Londonwards. Love's young dream hadbeen realized, and they saw no shadow in the future.

  The ride home was uneventful until they reached Richmond. Then, on theslope of the hill in front of the Talbot, where the traffic was thickand noisy, a coach with half a dozen young men on top was encountered,evidently bound for a convivial dinner at the Star and Garter or theRoebuck. A well-known young lord was driving, and beside him sat VictorNevill. He smiled and nodded at Jack, and turned to gaze after his faircompanion.

  "That was an old friend of mine," remarked Jack, as the trap passed on."A jolly good fellow, too."

  "Drive faster, please," Madge said, abruptly. "I am afraid it is late."

  There was a troubled, half-frightened look on her face, and she was veryquiet until the station was reached, where she was sure to get a trainto Gunnersbury within a few minutes. She sprang lightly to the pavement,and let her hand rest in Jack's for a moment, while her eyes, full ofunspeakable affection, gazed into his. Then, with a brief farewell, shehad vanished down the steps.

  "She is mine," thought Jack, as he drove on toward Kew and Chiswick. "Ihave won a pearl among women. I think I should kill any man who camebetween us."