Cupid, who seems to be indifferent to his surroundings, hovered about the smoky and beery regions of the Blue Pig, and very soon worked mischief between Burden and Ted.
He was pleasant spoken as well as good-looking, and had a free-and-easy way, was always ready with an order for the play or one of the music halls, and—in short, Burden fell in love with him. But when he asked her to marry him, Burden, who was a respectable girl, and, as Lady Wolfer's maid, had held a good position for one of her class, began to make inquiries.
She did not go on with them, but she learned enough to rouse her suspicions.
The jewelry business evidently served as a blind for less honest pursuits. She took alarm, and, like a sensible girl, fled the paternal pub and sought a fresh situation.
As chance—there is no such thing, of course—would have it, Lady Luce was changing maids at this time.
Burden, armed with her most excellent and fully deserved "character," applied for and obtained the situation.
She ought to have been thankful for her escape, and happy and contented in a service which, though very different from that of Lady Wolfer's, was good enough. But Burden had lost her heart; and when one has lost one's heart, happiness is impossible.
She longed for a sight, just a sight, of her good-looking Ted; and one day, while the Turfleighs were stopping at Brighton, her heart's desire was gratified.
She saw her handsome Ted on the pier. He was, if anything, handsomer than ever, was beautifully dressed—quite the gentleman, in fact, and though Burden had fully intended to just bow and pass on, she stopped and talked to him. Cupid slipped round her the chains from which she had so nearly freed herself, and——The woman who goes back to a man is indeed completely lost.
They met every day; but alas, alas! Ted no longer spoke of marriage; and his influence over the woman who loved him unwisely and too well, grew in proportion to her devotion and helplessness.