That Girl in Black; and, Bronzie

first time, was out of danger,but "terribly weak." And at intervals during the next few weeks thegirl heard news of Mr Norreys' recovery. And "I wonder," she began tosay to herself, "I wonder if Gertrude has seen him, or will be seeinghim soon."

  But this hope, if hope it should be called, was doomed todisappointment. Late in October came another letter from her friend.

  "I am sorry," wrote Mrs Englewood, "that I see no probability of mymeeting Mr Norreys for a long time. He is going abroad. After all,your paths in life are not likely to cross each other again. Perhaps itis best to leave things."

  But the tears filled Maisie's eyes as she read. "I should have likedhim to know I had come to do him justice," she thought.

  She did not understand Mrs Englewood's view of the matter.

  "It would be cruel," Gertrude had said to herself, "to tell him how sheblames herself, and how my showing her Mrs Selby's letter had clearedhim. It would only bring it all up again when he has doubtless begun toforget it."

  Nevertheless, Despard did not leave England without knowing howcompletely Lady Margaret had retracted her cruel words, and how bitterlyshe regretted them.

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  Time passes quickly, we are told, when we are hard at work. Anddoubtless this is true while the time in question is the present. Butto look back upon time of which every day and every hour have been fullyoccupied, gives somewhat the feeling of a closely-printed volume whenone has finished reading it. It seems even longer than in anticipation.To Despard Norreys, when at the end of two busy years he found himselfagain in England, it appeared as if he had been absent five or six timesas long as was really the case.

  He had been a week in England, and was still detained in town by detailsconnected with the work he had successfully accomplished. He was underpromise to his sister to run down to Markerslea the first day it shouldbe possible, and time meanwhile hung somewhat heavily on his hands. Thewaters had already closed over his former place in society, and he didnot regret it. Still there were friends whom he was glad to meet again,and so he not unwillingly accepted some of the invitations that began tofind him out.

  One evening, after dining at the house of the friend whose influence hadobtained for him the appointment which had just expired, he accompaniedthe ladies of the family to an evening party in the neighbourhood. Hehad never been in the house before; the faces about him were unfamiliar.Feeling a little "out of it," he strolled into a small room where aselect quartette was absorbed at whist, and seated himself in a cornersomewhat out of the glare of light, which, since his illness, ratherpainfully affected his eyes.

  Suddenly the thought of Maisie Fforde as he had last seen her seemed torise before him as in a vision.

  "I wonder if she is married," he said to himself. "Sure to be so, Ishould think. Yet I should probably have heard of it."

  And even as the words formed themselves in his mind, a still familiarvoice caught his ear.

  "Thank you. Yes, this will do nicely. I will wait here till Mabel isready to go."

  And a lady--a girl, he soon saw--came forward into the room towards thecorner where he was sitting. He rose at once; she approached himquickly, then with a sudden, incoherent exclamation, made as if shewould have drawn back. But it was too late; she could not, if shewished, have pretended she did not see him.

  "Mr Norreys," she began; "I had no idea--"

  "That I was in England," he said. "No, I have only just returned.Pardon me for having startled you, Miss Fforde--Lady Margaret, I mean.I on my side had no idea of meeting you here or--"

  "Or you would not have come," she in her turn interrupted him with."Thank you; you are frank at all events," she added haughtily.

  He turned away. There was perhaps some involuntary suggestion ofreproach in his manner, for hers changed.

  "No," she said. "I am very wrong. Please stay for two minutes, andlisten to me. I have hoped and prayed that I might never meet youagain, but at the same time I made a vow--a real vow," she went ongirlishly, "that _if_ I did so I would swallow my pride, and--and askyou to forgive me. There now--I have said it. That is all. Will you,Mr Norreys?"

  He glanced round; the whist party was all unconscious of the rest of theworld still--

  "Will you not sit down for a moment, Lady Margaret?" he said, and as shedid so he too drew a chair nearer to hers. "It is disagreeable to beoverheard," he went on in a tone of half apology. "You ask me what Icannot now do," he added.

  The girl reared her head, and the softness of her manner hardened atonce.

  "Then," she said, "we are quits. It does just as well. My conscienceis clear now."

  "So is mine, as to _that_ particular of--of what you call forgivingyou," he said, and his voice was a degree less calm. "I cannot do sonow, for--I forgave you long, long ago."

  "You have seen Mrs Englewood? She has told you at last that all wasexplained to me--your sister's letter and all," she went on confusedly,"that I saw how horrid, how low and mean and suspicious and everything Ihad been?"

  "I knew all you refer to before I left England," he said simply. "But Iasked Mrs Englewood to leave it as it was, unless she was absolutelyforced to tell you. I knew you must hate the sound of my name, and shepromised to drop the subject."

  "And I have scarcely seen her for a long time," said Maisie. "I saw shedid avoid it, and I suppose she thought it no use talking about it."

  "I did not need her explanation," Despard went on gently. "I had--ifyou will have the word--I had forgiven you long before. Indeed, I thinkI did so almost at once. It was all natural on your part. What had Idone, what was I that you should have thought any good of me? When youremembered the way I behaved to you at first," and here his voice grewvery low. "I have never been able to--I shall never be able to forgivemyself--"

  "Mr Norreys!" said Maisie in a very contrite tone. But Despard keptsilence.

  "Are you going to stay at home now, or are you going away again?" sheasked presently, trying to speak in a matter-of-fact way.

  "I hardly know. I am waiting to see what I can get to do. I don't muchmind what, but I shall never again be able to be idle," he said, smilinga little for the first time. "It is my own fault entirely--the fault ofmy own past folly--that I am not now well on in the profession I wasintended for. So I must not grumble if I have to take what work I canget in any part of the world. I would rather stay in England for somereasons."

  "Why?" she asked.

  "I cannot stand heat very well," he said. "My little sunstroke leftsome weak points--my eyes are not strong."

  She did not answer at once.

  Then, "How crooked things are," she said at last suddenly; "you wantwork, and I--oh, I am _so_ busy and worried. Papa impressed upon methat I must look after things myself, and accept the responsibilities,but--I don't think he quite saw how difficult it would be," and her eyesfilled with tears.

  "But--" said Despard, puzzled by her manner, "he is surely able to helpyou?"

  She turned to him more fully--the tears came more quickly, but she didnot mind his seeing them.

  "Didn't you know?" she said; "Papa is dead--more than a year ago now.Just before I came of age. I am quite alone. That silly--I shouldn'tsay that, he is kind and good--Conrad is Lord Southwold now. But Idon't want to marry him, though he is almost the only man who, I _know_,cares for me for myself. How strange you did not know about my beingall alone! Didn't you notice this?" and she touched her black skirt.

  "I have never seen you except in black," said Despard. "No--I had noidea. I am so grieved."

  "If--if you stay in England," she began again half timidly, "and you sayyou have forgiven me,"--he made a little gesture of deprecation of theword--"can't we be friends, Mr Norreys?"

  Despard rose to his feet. The whist party had dispersed. The littleroom was empty.

  "No," he said, "I am afraid that could never be, Lady Margaret. The onereason why I wish to leave England aga
in is that I know now, I cannot--Imust not risk seeing you."

  Maisie looked up, the tears were still glimmering about her eyes andcheeks; was it their soft glistening that made her face look so brightand almost radiant?

  "Oh, do say it again--don't think me not nice, oh, _don't_!" sheentreated. "But why--oh, why, if you care for me, though I can scarcelybelieve it, why let my horrible money come between us? _I_ shall nevercare for anybody else--there now, I have said it!" And she tried tohide her face, but he would not let her.

  "Do you really mean