Miss Lawrence did so, and it seemed almost perfect to me, but Wallace'skeen eyes detected faults.
"That right shoulder dropped a little," he said. "That's a bad fault.Let the right shoulder go straight through. Ah, that was a decidedimprovement! Now swing and keep that right elbow at least four inchesfrom the body. You let your wrists in too soon, Miss Lawrence. Do notstart them to work until you are well down on your stroke. That shoulderdropped again! Don't look up as your club goes through; that is a fatalfault. Fall back on those heels! Keep the back straight, or curved back,if at all. Now we will try it with a ball."
Wallace teed a ball and Miss Lawrence drove a very good one for her. Itwas straight and a trifle high, but it had a carry of fully 120 yards.
"Didn't I tell you I was improving!" she exclaimed, smiling triumphantlyat Mr. Harding. "Mr. Wallace is a splendid teacher."
"Yes, and you are a splendid pupil," returned Mr. Harding, with aknowing smile, "but you give me a chance, or I'll lodge a protest withthe board of management."
She laughed, waved her hand mockingly at him, and away they went. Inoticed that Wallace was not playing. He carried the clubs and theywalked close to each other. He said something and she looked up to hisface and smiled. It was evident they had much to talk of, and while Icannot prove it, I am inclined to doubt if their conversation wasrestricted to the details of the game.
Harding watched them, a quiet smile on his strong, kindly, and ruggedface. He was humming the air of an old love song.
"Smith," he said after an interval of silence, "there are only twothings in this life really worth having."
"What are they?"
"Youth and health."
"How about love?" I asked.
"Youth and health own love," he replied. "Love is their obedientservant. I thank God that I have not lost my youth or my health."
I was privileged to see this remarkable man for a moment in a new light,one which increased my respect and admiration for him.
When we returned to the club house the veranda was buzzing with gossip.Miss Dangerfield was delighted when she found that I was not acquaintedwith the cause of the excitement. It gave her a chance to impart thenews to one ready to listen, and she was not slow in taking advantage ofit.
"Miss Lawrence has refused Mr. LaHume!" she whispered, though she mightas well have screamed it through a megaphone, since I was the only oneon the veranda in ignorance of it.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I dare not tell," she said, but I knew she would. "If you'll promisenot to reveal it to a living soul I'll tell you."
I promised.
"Mr. LaHume told Mr. Chilvers, Mr. Chilvers told Mrs. Chilvers, Mrs.Chilvers told Miss Ross, and Miss Ross told me, so you see that I haveit right from the original source."
"And you told me," I said. "Why should the chain stop in so obscure alink. I am dying to tell somebody."
"But you promised not to," Miss Dangerfield protested.
"So did you," I replied.
"It seems that Percy flatly asked her to marry him, and that she flatlyrefused him," she continued, ignoring my implied threat. "I understandthat Mr. LaHume is going to resign from the club."
"Why?" I asked. "Does he not find it effective as a matrimonial agency?"
"I don't know," she said. "There he is now, and he's trying to catchyour eye."
I turned and saw LaHume, who signalled that he wished to speak to me. Isaw at a glance that he had been drinking. He shoved a piece of paperinto my hands.
"There is my resignation from the Woodvale Club," he said, his voicehusky, and sullen anger in his dark eyes. LaHume is a handsome fellow,but there is something amiss with him. Possibly his ego isover-developed.
"I will present it to the board," I said, preferring to avoid discussionwith him while in his then condition.
"I don't care a blank whether they accept it or not," he declared with arising voice. "From this day I shall never step foot in Woodvale."
"Better think it over later on," I said.
"If you think I care to have anything further to do with a club whichshelters and encourages low adventurers like this fellow Wallace, you donot know Percy LaHume," he declared, working himself into a fury. "Andyou and Carter are to blame for it," he concluded.
"I shall refuse to discuss that with you at this time," I calmly repliedand abruptly left him.
A few minutes later I saw him striding down the path on the way to therailway station. As luck would have it, Wallace and Miss Lawrence hadjust left the eighteenth green, and stood chatting near the path whichleads to the station. If they saw the approaching LaHume they paid noattention to him. At this moment Carter and Miss Harding joined me andthe latter asked what I found so diverting.
"I hope that LaHume will have the sense not to pick a quarrel withWallace," I said, pointing in his direction. "He is excited and--andnervous."
"Why don't you say it--intoxicated," drawled Carter.
LaHume had reached the professional and his pupil. We saw Wallace lifthis cap as LaHume came within a few yards of them. The latter stopped,and though the trio was quite a distance away, we could plainly hearLaHume's voice, but could not make out the words. Wallace made adeprecatory gesture and Miss Lawrence drew herself up and faced LaHumein an attitude of scorn.
I noted that LaHume was gesticulating with his left hand, and that hisright arm was lowered and to his back. He kept edging closer to Wallace.
Of a sudden LaHume's right hand swung out and he made a vicious lunge atWallace. I saw the latter throw up his guard, but it was too far away totell if the blow had landed. There was a struggle for a second or two,then Wallace pushed him clear, and like lightning I saw his left handswing across to LaHume's stomach. LaHume was shot back several yards andfell heavily, his feet in the path and his head and shoulders on theturf.
It all happened so quickly that we stood there, spellbound. We saw MissLawrence rush forward and half fall into Wallace's arms. We saw himstagger to a lawn settee, she still clinging to him and screaming.LaHume lay as if dead.
These latter details I noticed as Carter and I were running toward them.
Wallace was on his feet before we reached him. He was attempting tocalm Miss Lawrence who was moaning, "He has killed him; he has killedhim!" I knew she feared for Wallace, but I was much more apprehensive asto the fate of LaHume.
Blood was trickling down the face of the young Scotchman, and its redhad stained a handkerchief which Miss Lawrence had pressed to his scalpabove his left temple. It was the sight of this which frightened her,but she comported herself with as much bravery as would most women undersimilar circumstances.
"I'm not much hurt," declared Wallace with a reassuring smile. "It'sonly a scratch on the scalp. Miss Lawrence is more alarmed than I aminjured. I assure you it is nothing."
"LaHume struck him with a knife!" exclaimed Miss Lawrence, recoveringher nerve as a wave of anger came to her. "He called Mr. Wallace acoward and a cad, and when Mr. Wallace tried to calm him he struck athim with a knife. Oh, I hope you have killed him!"
"LaHume was shot back several yards"]
"I'm afraid your hope is realised," said Carter, bending over the inertform of LaHume.
"Small fear of that," said Wallace, but I detected a note ofapprehension in his voice. "I aimed to disable without seriouslyinjuring him."
As he spoke LaHume moved, groaned and half raised himself. In themeantime a group had gathered, and in it was Doctor Barry, a member ofthe club. LaHume was conscious but completely dazed. We were muchrelieved when the doctor said that he was not permanently injured.Ordering two of the servants to take LaHume to the club house and puthim to bed, Doctor Barry turned his attention to Wallace.
Despite the spilling of blood the cut was a trifling one, and aftergiving it simple treatment, the doctor assured Wallace that he couldattend to his duties as usual. An hour later the nervy Scotchman was outon the links giving Lawson a lesson.
We picked the knife from the walk
near the scene of the encounter. Theblow had been aimed at the breast or neck, but Wallace parried it andreceived the scratch before he could grasp LaHume's wrist. The quickwrench which caused the knife to fly from LaHume's hand fractured one ofthe small bones in his forearm, as was learned when that desperate youngman had more fully recovered.
It was a disagreeable incident, and I take no pleasure in recording it.Wallace immediately tendered his resignation, but Carter and I told himit would not be considered, and I am sure the management will uphold usin that action.
The conduct of Miss Lawrence convinces me that she is much attached toWallace. Of course, nothing else was talked of during the afternoon andevening.
In the cool of the day Miss Harding accepted my invitation to play "thebrook holes," as we call them, and we climbed to the top of "The Eagle'sNest" to watch the sunset.
I helped her up the steep rocks and finally we stood breathless, gazingdown on our little world.
"At last we are alone," I said.
It was one of my usual brilliant remarks. There must have been a ring oftragedy or melodrama in my voice, but really I said it only because Icould think of nothing else to say at that moment.
Miss Harding looked up with a curious expression in her deep brown eyesand a rather timid smile on her lips. It was as if she were wondering ifI meditated hurling myself to the depths below, or if I intended to takethis opportunity to launch some tender declaration.
I wish I had the command of language of the garrulous and everentertaining hero of the popular novel. If I ever propose it will be inwriting.
I can see that look of startled curiosity on her pretty face as I writethese lines, and the more I think of it, the more am I convinced thatshe expected something far different from what followed.
I wonder what she would have said or done if I had thrown myself at herfeet and passionately declared the love I bear to her? I wonder if thosetender lips would have murmured the words which would have raised me tothe seventh heaven of happiness, or if she would have firmly said--oh,what is the use of wondering?
"No danger of being hit with a golf ball up here," I said, when sheremained silent.
And then she laughed. Since there was nothing witty in my remark shemust have been laughing at something else. I have an idea what it was,but I had sense enough to laugh with her.
"Do you know," I said, determined to frame a rational statement, "Ibelieve Miss Lawrence is in love with Mr. Wallace."
"Indeed?" she exclaimed. "And what of Mr. Wallace?"
"I believe Mr. Wallace is in love with Miss Lawrence."
"What a delightful state of affairs!" she laughed. "Nothing then remainsbut to set the date, celebrate the event and live happily everafterward."
"I do not say she will marry him," I ventured to qualify. "It probablystarted as a harmless flirtation on her part, but I really think shecares more for him than she would be willing to admit."
"If she liked him well enough to encourage his attentions, which is afairly good definition of a harmless flirtation," she said, quiteseriously, "and later discovers that she loves him and that he lovesher, why should they not marry?"
I think my tactics at this point were rather clever. I saw a chance toobtain her views on a question most vital to me, and I proceeded to doso, but I hope I did not lower myself in her estimation. As I have saidbefore, I think Wallace is good enough for any woman.
"Consider the difference in their stations in life," I interposed. "Shehas wealth, family, and a high position in society. Of Wallace we knownothing except that he comports himself like a gentleman in reducedcircumstances."
"I should imagine that would be the most difficult time to play such arole," Miss Harding said. "We know those who cannot be gentlemen evenunder the most encouraging circumstances. The greatest happiness whichcan come to a good woman is to marry the man she loves, and if sheallows wealth, position or any other selfish consideration to stand inthe way she does not deserve happiness."
"Right you are!" I declared with an enthusiasm which may have betrayedme. "I agree with every word you have said."
"See those perfect yellows against that bar of vivid red," she said,pointing to the west, where the sky quivered with a naming sunset. "Seehow the light flashes from the windows of the club house! One wouldthink it filled with molten metal. How sharp the old church belfry showsagainst that mass of golden cloud to the northwest!"
We watched this glorious scene in silence until the upper rim of the sunsank beneath the rounded crest of "Old Baldy." Then I helped her downand we walked slowly back to the club house.
Have I not the right to assume that Miss Harding "likes me well enoughto encourage my attentions," which is her definition of a flirtation? Ibelieve I have. I know that other young gentlemen belonging to the clubhave attempted in vain to compete with me for the favour of her society.All have failed--Carter alone excepted. But recently I have been withher more than has Carter. In fact I fear him less at the present momentthan I have at any time. I shall soon know my fate.
For the first time the strain of my stock operations is telling on me. Ihave now purchased 35,000 shares of N.O. & G., and the market for itclosed to-night at 60. If I were forced to settle at this figure I wouldbe about $345,000 loser. If the stock is valueless, as some of theexperts are now declaring, I am liable for nearly $2,000,000 more.
I have converted everything except my equity in Woodvale into money, andcounting the margins in the hands of my brokers I find that I havenearly $3,000,000. I suppose I could get out with a loss of half amillion, and there are moments when my cowardice struggles against meand when I am tempted to abandon this hazardous enterprise.
I shall stick it out, however. I know the conspiracy which has beenhatched, and I do not believe they will dare force the price down muchlower. I am going to buy another block of ten thousand shares if itcontinues to decline, and then await developments. If it goes to zero Ishall still have a little money left, and I shall have the income fromthe old farm--but I shall not have the hardihood to ask for the hand ofGrace Harding.
You may talk as much as you please but money is a commanding factor inlove and marriage. It is all very well for a wealthy man to fall in loveand marry a poor girl, but it is an entirely different thing for a poorman to aspire to the hand and heart of a wealthy woman.
Honestly, I don't believe it right that women should be permitted underthe law to inherit vast sums of money--at least marriageable women. Noman of ordinary means who possesses a proper self-respect will espouse awoman whose income overshadows his own.
I would limit the inheritances of marriageable women to a maximum amountof $100,000. I wish Miss Harding did not have a dollar.
The contest for the Harding Trophy--I mean the bronze, and not the realHarding Trophy--has narrowed down to four of us, Carter, Boyd, Marshalland myself. I have a sort of a premonition that as that 'bronze gent'goes, so will go everything which I hold dear. I am making the fight ofmy life for it. I play Marshall to-morrow morning.