A Strange World: A Novel. Volume 1 (of 3)

by M. E. Braddon

'I am sorry your friend is not with us,' remarked Mr. Elgood, with his mouth full of lobster. 'He has lost a treat.'

'His loss is our gain,' observed Mr. Dempson. 'There'd have been less champagne for the rest of us if he'd been here.'

'My friend is an ass,' said James, carelessly. His errant fancy, so easily caught, was quite enchained by this time. He had been growing fonder of Justina all day, and, with the growth of his boyish passion, his anger against Maurice increased. He had almost made up his mind to do the very thing which Clissold had stigmatised as madness. He had almost made up his mind to marry the actor's daughter. He was in love with her, and how else should his love end? He came of too good a stock, had too good a heart, to contemplate a dishonourable ending. It only remained for him to discover if he really loved her—if this fancy that had but dawned upon him yesterday were indeed the beginning of his fate, or that considerable part of a man's destiny which is involved in his marriage. He had been very little in the society of women since his mother's death. His brief, harmless flirtations had been chiefly with damsels of the barmaid class; and, after these meretricious charmers, Justina, with her wild-rose tinted cheeks and innocent blue eyes, seemed youth and purity personified.

Justina looked shyly up at her admirer, happier than words could have told. Little had she ever tasted of pleasure's maddening cup before to-day. The flavour of the wine was not stranger to her lips than the flavour of joy to her soul. For her, girlhood had meant hard work and deprivation. Since she had been young enough to play hop-scotch on the door-step with a neighbour's children, and think it happiness, she had hardly known what it was to be glad. To-day life brimmed over with enchantment—a carriage, a picnic, races, all the glad, gay world smiling at her. She looked at James with a grateful smile when he asked her if she was enjoying herself.

'How can I help enjoying myself?' she said. 'I never had such a day in my life. It will all be over to-night, and to-morrow the world will look just as it does when one awakens from a wonderful dream. I have had dreams just like to-day,' she added, simply.

'Might we not lengthen the dream, find some enjoyment for to-morrow?' asked James. 'We might even come to the races again, if you like.'

'We couldn't come. There will be a long rehearsal to-morrow. We play the new burlesque to-morrow night. And I thought you were going away to-morrow. Your friend said so.'

'My friend would have been wiser had he spoken for himself, and not for me. I shall stay till the races are over; longer perhaps. How long do you stay?'

'Till next Saturday week, unless the business should get too bad.'

'Then I think I shall stay till next Saturday week. I can read a Greek play at Eborsham as well as anywhere else, and I don't see why I should be hurried from place to place to please Clissold,' added the young man, rebelliously.