“Yes, Wednesday, if you like—if mother is well enough to spare me. Good-by!”
“Good-by!” he answered.
He gave one last look and hurried up the hill. He had a good hour’s walk before him, his toilet to make, and the drive to Chesterham to accomplish as well. That Lady Charteris and her daughter Vane would be received at the station by the young squire of Crosbie Castle seemed very improbable, indeed.
CHAPTER IV.
The dressing-gong sounded sonorously through the corridor of Crosbie Castle. In one of the many charming rooms situated in the towering wing a young girl was standing. The open windows overlooked a sweep of verdant lawn, majestic groups of veteran trees, and to the left a clump of smaller woodgrowth, touched with every tint of green. From beneath, the scent of many a flower was borne on the air and wafted to her, bringing with its fragrance a sense of purity and delicacy that was utterly wanting to the faint odors that hung round the costly glass bottles her maid was placing on the toilet table.
The mistress of the dainty apartment was leaning against the open window deep in thought. She was tall and slight, with a face of delicate loveliness and charm, albeit spoiled a little by a slight expression of indifference and discontent. She had hair of the warm brown shade peculiar to Englishwomen; her eyes were large, of a clear but rather cold blue; her mouth was small and well shaped, disclosing white, even teeth when her lips parted. There was an easy, graceful nonchalance about her carriage; and, without being a strictly beautiful figure, Vane Charteris had an indescribable air of hauteur in the slope of her shoulders and well-poised head that put to shame many a rival better favored by nature. Her eyes were fixed at this instant on the figure of a young man walking quickly across the lawn to the house, followed by half a dozen dogs. He was by no means unpleasant to look upon; and so thought his cousin, for she watched him with evident attention and interest.
“My squire of Crosbie pleases me,” she murmured, moving languidly from the window; “for once mamma has shown discrimination with worldly wisdom.”
She seated herself at the glass, and let her maid unpin her luxuriant tresses till they fell upon the folds of her pink silk wrapper in glorious profusion. Vane Charteris had been out two years. Worshiped from her cradle by her weak, widowed mother, she had entered society’s world haughty, indifferent and selfish. The admiration she received was but a continuation of the adulation that had been lavished upon her all through her life; she had no aims, no hopes, no ambitions, but was content with her imperious beauty and the power that gift brought. At first Vane was a great success—her proud coldness was new, and therefore a delightful experience; but after a while society grew weary of her autocratic ways. The season just ended had been a lesson to her. She saw herself deserted, and her power slip from her; and, as this truth came home, she woke suddenly from her dreams, and realized that something more was expected of her if she would still reign as queen.
Lady Charteris little guessed the workings of her daughter’s mind. She had grown to consider Vane as a priceless jewel which must be carefully watched, carefully tended and thought for. She judged the girl’s nature to be one of the highest, combining true Charteris pride with utter indolence. Possibly the mother had felt a touch of vexation when she saw girls far below her child in beauty wed nobly and well; but she loved Vane as her life, and regret was banished in the pleasure of her presence.
This was the first visit of the beautiful Miss Charteris to Crosbie Castle. Hitherto she had contented herself with meeting her uncle and aunt in London: but this year the mood seized her to accept their oft-repeated invitation and spend a few weeks in their country home. She had heard much of her cousin Stuart, but had never seen him since her childhood, as during the past two years he had been traveling, and before that time she never left the seclusion of her schoolroom.