| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| I. | LADY KESTERS | [ 1] |
| II. | BROTHER AND SISTER | [ 12] |
| III. | THE LAST WORD GOES BEGGING | [ 29] |
| IV. | LEILA’S IDEA | [ 37] |
| V. | PLANS AND THREATS | [ 45] |
| VI. | FIRST IMPRESSIONS | [ 49] |
| VII. | MRS. HOGBEN AT HOME | [ 58] |
| VIII. | OTTINGE-IN-THE-MARSH | [ 72] |
| IX. | THE NEW CHAUFFEUR | [ 77] |
| X. | AS HANDY MAN | [ 86] |
| XI. | THE TRIAL TRIP | [ 97] |
| XII. | THE DOGS’ HOTEL | [ 107] |
| XIII. | THE DRUM AND ITS PATRONS | [ 120] |
| XIV. | LIEUTENANT WYNYARD | [ 132] |
| XV. | BY WATER | [ 139] |
| XVI. | TWO PRISONERS | [ 146] |
| XVII. | LADY KESTERS HAS MISGIVINGS | [ 155] |
| XVIII. | THE REASON WHY | [ 166] |
| XIX. | OWEN THE MATCHMAKER | [ 174] |
| XX. | SUDDEN DEATH | [ 184] |
| XXI. | BY THE SUNDIAL | [ 200] |
| XXII. | AUREA’S REFLECTIONS | [ 209] |
| XXIII. | AN HOUR OF LIBERTY | [ 212] |
| XXIV. | ON YAMPTON HILL | [ 217] |
| XXV. | LADY KESTERS AT THE DRUM | [ 226] |
| XXVI. | THE OBSTACLE | [ 234] |
| XXVII. | SCANDAL ABOUT MISS SUSAN | [ 243] |
| XXVIII. | A NEW SITUATION | [ 251] |
| XXIX. | TOTTIE TOYE | [ 261] |
| XXX. | MASHAM—THE MOTORIST | [ 267] |
| XXXI. | TAKING RISKS | [ 274] |
| XXXII. | AN EXPLANATION | [ 284] |
| XXXIII. | SITUATION THE FOURTH | [ 289] |
| XXXIV. | SIR RICHARD AS CHAPERON | [ 294] |
| XXXV. | REINSTATED | [ 300] |
| XXXVI. | BY MOONLIGHT | [ 306] |
A ROLLING STONE
A ROLLING STONE
CHAPTER I
LADY KESTERS
After a day of strenuous social activities, Lady Kesters was enjoying a well-earned rest, reposing at full length on a luxurious Chesterfield, with cushions of old brocade piled at her back and a new French novel in her hand. Nevertheless, her attention wandered from Anatole France; every few minutes she raised her head to listen intently, then, as a little silver clock chimed five thin strokes, she rose, went over to a window, and, with an impatient jerk, pulled aside the blind. She was looking down into Mount Street, W., and endeavouring to penetrate the gloom of a raw evening towards the end of March.
It was evident that the lady was expecting some one, for there were two cups and saucers on a well-equipped tea-table, placed between the sofa and a cheerful log fire.
As the mistress of the house peers eagerly at passers-by, we may avail ourselves of the opportunity to examine her surroundings. There is an agreeable feeling of ample space, softly shaded lights, and rich but subdued colours. The polished floor is strewn with ancient rugs; bookcases and rare cabinets exhibit costly contents; flowers are in profusion; the air is heavily scented with white lilac; and a multitude of magazines and papers lie scattered about in careless abundance. The Hibbert Journal, the Clarion, Le Revue des deux mondes, and the Spectator indicate a Catholic taste; but we look in vain for a piano, a pet dog, or a workbasket.
As Lady Kesters turns from the window, it is seen that she is tall and slim, with dark, expressive eyes, a delicate, tip-tilted nose, and remarkably square chin; her figure, which is faultless, shows to admirable advantage in a simple gown of clinging black material.
And whilst she once more subsides into her sofa and book, we may venture to introduce a little sketch of her personal history.
Leila Wynyard and her brother Owen were the orphan children of a dashing cavalry officer, who was killed at polo, leaving family and creditors to the benevolence of his relations. Sir Richard, his brother, undertook charge of the boy, the girl—some years his senior—fell to the lot of a maiden aunt who lived in Eaton Terrace, and maintained considerable dignity in a small house, on an income to correspond. Leila had lessons and masters, her teeth, complexion, and deportment were objects of anxious solicitude; at eighteen she was brought out and presented, and hopes were entertained that, in her first or second season, she would make a suitable match, and secure a husband and a home. The girl carried herself with grace, had fine dark eyes, and fine fashionable connections; these latter combined to take her into society, and exhibit her at Ascot and Hurlingham, as well as balls and the opera. She visited historical country seats and notable Scottish moors, and was, so to speak, passed along from one house-party to another; and yet, despite her friends’ exertions, Leila Wynyard failed to “go off.” Perhaps the truth lay in the simple fact that the lady herself was disinclined to move on; and often joked over her social failure with her Aunt Eliza, who had a keen sense of humour and no mind to lose the light of her old age.