The Castle Of The Shadows

by A. M. Williamson

Kate did not answer for a moment. Was this an excuse to get rid of her, and if so, why? Could it be that Roger Broom had been warning Virginia that her half-brother was in danger of making a fool of himself about a woman many years his senior? A short time ago she might have believed that this was the explanation, for Roger Broom knew a good deal about Lady Gardiner. He was aware that her dead husband was but a city man, knighted when he was sheriff; that she had been governess to the gruff old widower's one daughter; that she had married him for his money, and spent it freely until what remained was lost in a great financial panic; that since then she had lived as she could, trading upon her own aristocratic connections to chaperon girls, chiefly Americans, who wished to see "English society from the inside." Roger knew her real age, or something near it; he knew that she had been in debt when she had got this chance with Virginia, to whom she had been recommended by an American duchess; and as there was nothing against her character, he had been too good-natured—as she would have expressed it—to "put a spoke in her wheel." However, if he suspected designs upon George, he might not have continued to be as discreet; but during these last three days of mysterious confabs, George Trent had appeared as much changed toward her as his half-sister had, so that Roger need have had no new fears for him. George had never ceased to be courteous, but there was a subtle difference in his manner, in his way of looking at her. He appeared preoccupied; he no longer sought her out. And this alteration had only come about since the day when they had visited the Château de la Roche.

Perhaps, then, it was George who was tired of her. He had never been the same since he had seen that girl in black, with the tragic eyes and the dead-white face, with no more life in it than a marble statue. Maybe he was planning to attach that girl to the party in some way, and would find the society of the woman with whom he had flirted a constraint.

At this thought Kate Gardiner felt her blood grow hot. It was unbearable that she should be sent out of George Trent's life to make room for a younger woman. She would not have it—she would not! If it killed her to go on this hateful yachting trip she would go; she would not be whistled down the wind.

"Oh, if the difficulty is only about me," she said sweetly, "it needn't be a difficulty at all. I dare say I shall be ill for a few days, but it can't last forever. I shall simply stop in my stateroom until I am fit to lie in a deck-chair and be a more or less interesting invalid."

As she spoke she watched Virginia's face through half-lowered lashes, and was certain that it changed. There could no longer be any doubt on that subject. For some reason Virginia did not want her on the yacht.

"I should hate you to be a martyr," said the girl uncomfortably. "Roger and I have been thinking it over, and I was wondering, in case we went (nothing is actually decided yet), whether you would like to wait here. I would keep on your room and the sitting-room, and the victoria, and you should have my maid and your own horse. Your income would be the same as always, of course; and you have a lot of friends here, so you wouldn't be lonely."

"How sweet and thoughtful you are, dearest child!" exclaimed Kate gratefully; while within she was saying, "Oh, so this is the game, is it? Come now; at least you're showing your hand. Roger and you have been 'talking things over?' You seem to have thought out the details pretty well; and I'm to be bribed. But it won't work, my love, it won't work." She rose, and going to Virginia, took her hand, looking affectionately down at the beautiful face. "You are always ready to sacrifice yourself for me. But what would you do for a chaperon if I stopped behind?"

"Oh, you see, George and Roger and I would be all the party on board. Surely George is chaperon enough?"

"Poor Marchese!" murmured Kate. "I'm afraid he also is suffering from an eclipse."

"I don't know what you mean," said Virginia, her colour deepening. "Why should he expect an invitation to go with us?"