Two Studios

simplicity. It was dreadfully imprudent, Charlie! It wasmore what I should have expected from your friend Mr Hibbert." Thenshe began to laugh. "But it must have been very comic. And did theyfind you out?"

  "I don't know. I don't know that they did. But, Mary--"

  "Well?"

  "I want you to tell them, and to square things."

  She shook her head.

  "They won't be at all easy to square, as you call it. You had betterleave them alone, and trust to the fates not to bring you across any ofthe Lascelles family again."

  An odd expression crossed Everitt's face.

  "That won't do," he said, getting up and standing with his back to thefireplace. "I want to see them again; at least, I want to see yourfriend."

  "Kitty? Oh!" exclaimed Mrs Marchmont, in blank amazement. "This istoo exciting! Do you really mean it?"

  "I mean that I should like to see her again," repeated Everitt. "Youmay take that for what it's worth."

  "Oh, I am delighted!" she cried; "delighted! Charlie, I would doanything in the world if I thought. But there, we needn't say anything.You just want to be introduced?"

  "Yes; and they'd better know. I won't have that hanging over my head."

  "I'll manage everything. They have a garden-party on Monday; I shallpropose to bring you, and I will go and see them meanwhile. Onecouldn't write all that about the model."

  Everitt left her, not ill-satisfied. He had said rather more than hehad intended, but it had been necessary to enlist his cousin, and heknew she would act in the friendliest fashion.

  He waited impatiently.

  On Thursday, Jack Hibbert, who tormented him unmercifully, informed himthat he had an invitation for the Lascelles'.

  "Hope they'll never find out I've any connection with you," he remarked,audaciously.

  "Hope not, for my sake," growled Everitt.

  Finding that nothing came from Mrs Marchmont, on Friday morning hestarted for the Park, and strolled along the Row till he caught sight ofhis cousin riding a bay mare, and surrounded by friends. The first timeof passing, she did not see him; but as she came down again she caughtsight of Everitt, and rode up to the railings.

  "Well?" he said, eagerly.

  She shook her head.

  "I'm dreadfully disappointed. I've done my very best, but they won'thear of it. I've been there, and I've seen Mrs Lascelles and Kitty,and said everything I could think of."

  "Has it annoyed them so much?" said Everitt, flushing.

  "I don't know about annoyed. They are not angry, and I think theyunderstand how it was done; but--perhaps it's natural, Charlie--theydon't fancy an acquaintance begun in that fashion. It _would_ beawkward, you must allow, just at first. Kitty wouldn't know whether shewas talking to her model or to you yourself. I think by-and-by we mightget over it quietly; but just at present I really don't see what to do."

  Everitt stared gloomily at a group beyond him.

  "You understand how it is, don't you?" said his cousin, anxiously.

  "Oh, it's clear enough, you needn't fear. I made a fool of myself, andyet I can't regret it." He looked at Mrs Marchmont, and suddenly burstout laughing. "Do you think any one was ever in such a ridiculousposition?"

  "I am partly responsible," she said. "What will you do?"

  "Get right again somehow," he replied, briefly. "Do you mean you willgive it up?"

  "I mean that if I can I shall marry Miss Kitty Lascelles."

  "Oh, Charlie," said Mrs Marchmont, drawing a deep breath, "I like youever so much! Tell me how I can help."

  "Here are the others," said Everitt, standing upright. "I'll let youknow, Mary, when I've thought it out."

  The day was grey and showery; the changing silvery lights bringing outthe colours of the great banks of rhododendrons massed together in thePark. Everitt walked for some time up and down under the trees, tryingto see his way out of his absurd difficulties. They were absurd, butthey were not pleasant. To have your acquaintance declined is toreceive something very like a slap in the face; the next step forwarddoes not present itself very naturally. However, he was not the man toflinch at an obstacle.

  He made his next move on Sunday. The chapel of the old Hospital is opento strangers, and Everitt went off in good time to secure his vantagepost. It was a wet, gusty day, full of growth and softness, a southerlywind blowing across the river, the trees washed into lovely tendergreens, the red of the building beautiful against the grey clouds. Thebirds were singing as usual; the old men encourage them, and they takefull advantage of the safe shelter they find. Just a few people wereturning in at the gates, and lingering on their way to the clock-towerto look up at the solid walls, when Everitt made his way into thecircular hall facing the fine quadrangle. The old soldier who acted asverger was not disinclined for a little chat. That was the governor'sstall, the second in command there, and the other officers round, as hesaw. Captain Lascelles? Yes, just before him. If he were a friend ofthe family, he might like to go into their pew, or next to them? No?Well, where would the gentleman like? Everitt indicated a spotopposite, where he would be fully in sight, and the old man promptlyconducted and shut him in.

  It was early, and Everitt looked round him with a good deal of interest.The chapel, with its plaster ceiling and its high panelling of oak, wasugly enough, but there was enough in its details to be suggestive. Theold soldiers came dropping in, with fine furrowed faces, and an air ofpride over their medals and their clasps, which stand out in braverelief against their blue coats. Here is one quite blind, carefully_led_ in by a comrade; there is another with an old, gentle face andsnow-white hair, with four medals and quite a procession of clasps onhis hollow chest. They file in soon in larger numbers, filling up byhundreds the body of the church. And overhead hang the old tatteredremnants of flags taken in glorious battle, older many of them than theoldest men, held together by network, colours faded, substance gone--nota shred left on the Blenheim poles. There are the Waterloo eagles,there the republican cap of liberty still flaunts itself; but nowhere inthe whole proud array is anything more pathetic than on one of theIndian flags, where, looking closely, you may see on the dull surfacethe print of a hand, the dead man's hand whose faithful clasp is markedupon his trust for ever.

  By the time Everitt had been there for a quarter of an hour, he waswatching the door very carefully. Already a lady and two or threechildren had gone into the Lascelles' pew, but it was only a minute ortwo before the service began that Kitty and her mother presentedthemselves. She noticed him before long. Perhaps some consciousness ofthe intentness of his gaze touched her and drew her eyes to his; at anyrate, he saw an immediate and troubled look of recognition cross hersweet face. Nor did she glance at him again. He had no encouragementof this sort; but as his former means of studying her had been of anunusual kind, so now it appeared to him as if she gained a fresh charmfrom the simplicity and gravity of her surroundings--the old men sittingupright, attentive, the old flags slowly waving backwards and forwardsover their heads, the solemn words of the familiar service.

  When it was finished, Everitt remained in his seat until the Lascelleshad left the church. He looked eagerly round when he got out, but thewhole family had disappeared; the pensioners chatted in groups, the sunshone out between the clouds on the grass of the quadrangle, and on afew white sea-birds which had come up the river.

  Everitt went home dissatisfied.

  CHAPTER SIX.

  ALLIES.

  If a tormenting, Jack Hibbert was a faithful, friend. He saw thatEveritt was out of sorts, and he went to the Lascelles with theintention of doing him a good turn--somehow. His first business was toget hold of Mrs Marchmont, and ask for an introduction to MissLascelles. She looked at him, and shook her head.

  "No," she said. "I see what that means. You have come as an emissary,and I can't trust your prudence."

  It was in vain for Jack to protest that he was not an emissary, and thathis prudence was beyond comprehension; she
was certain that hismasculine movements would be too lumbering and aggressive for thesituation, which needed the most delicate advances.

  "You would rush impetuously into the breach, and treat it all as a finejoke; and that would just finish everything quite hopelessly. No; begood and don't meddle."

  "I know I could put things straight," said Jack, ruefully.

  "I thought that was in your head," she answered. "Now. I'll tell youwhat I'll do. You shall be introduced to Miss Aitcheson, and that willbe almost as good as if I took you to Miss Lascelles, only not sodangerous."

  "You are very kind," he said,