Sport Royal, and Other Stories

“It’s absurd. It’s preposterous. What will – what will Mrs. Gunton say?”

“Oh, she won’t mind,” answered my companion, with a confident nod. “She’s used to girls like me.”

“You surprise me,” I retorted sarcastically; but she only laughed again. I returned to my paper.

An hour passed in silence. The train began to slacken speed as we neared the station next before Beech Hill. She looked up and said:

“Would you really rather I didn’t come with you?”

I had passed a wretched hour. This girl was evidently bent on blasting my character.

“Madam,” I said, “if you’ll get out at this station, I’ll give you a five-pound note.”

“What? I heard you never gave away a farthing! They said no one could get a penny out of you.”

“It is true that I disapprove of indiscriminate charity; but, under the circumstances, I – ”

“Think I am a deserving object? Well, I’ll take it.”

With a sigh of relief, I took a note from my pocket-book, and gave it her.

“I’ll pay it back soon,” she said.

“Never let me see your face again.”

“Apologize for me to the Guntons. Good-by.”

She jumped out lightly, and I sank back, murmuring, “Thank Heaven!”

After I got rid of her my journey was peaceful and happy, and I forgot my troubles in the warm greeting my old friend Bob Gunton and his wife gave me. The girl must have lied about the telegram; at least, Bob made no reference to it. He had a fine family of boys and girls, and presented them to me with natural pride.

“That’s my lot – except Addie. She’s gone to see some friends; but we expect her back every minute. They keep me alive, I can tell you, Miller.”

After tea, my host and hostess insisted on taking me for a stroll on the terrace. It was a beautiful evening, and I did not mind the cold. As we were talking together, I heard the rumble of wheels. An omnibus stopped at the gate.

“Ah, the ’bus,” said Gunton; “it runs between here and our market-town.”

I hardly heard him; for, to my horror, I saw, descending from the ’bus and opening the gate, that girl!

“Send her away!” I cried; “send her away! On my honor, Bob, as a gentleman, I know nothing about her.”

“Why, what’s the matter?”

“I solemnly assure Mrs. Gunton and yourself that – ”

“What’s the matter with the man? What’s he talking about?”

“Why, Bob, that girl – that barefaced girl!”

“That girl! Why, that’s my daughter Addie!”

“Your daughter?”

The little minx walked up to me with a smile, dropped a little courtesy, and said: “I knew, Mr. Miller, that it wasn’t true that you would refuse to help a really deserving case. The others said you would; but I thought better of you.”

And she had the effrontery, then and there, to tell her parents all about it!

I think parents are the most infatuated class of persons in the community. They laughed, and Mrs. Gunton said, “How clever of you, Addie! You must forgive her, Mr. Miller. My dear girls are so playful!”

Playful! And she never returned the five-pound note!

A GUARDIAN OF MORALITY

Miss Tabitha Grey had not reached the age of forty-five years without acquiring an extensive and unfavorable knowledge of her sex. Men were wicked; Miss Grey admitted and deplored the fact, but it was so much in the order of nature that she had almost ceased to cavil at it. But that women should be wicked! Here Miss Grey’s toleration gave out. And so many women, especially young women, and more especially pretty young women, were wicked. It was atrocious! Entertaining this general opinion, Miss Grey, as a matter of course, held Maggie Lester in the utmost detestation. The Waterfall Hotel was, in fact, hardly large enough to contain, in any comfort, Miss Grey on the one hand and on the other Maggie Lester, her brother Charles, and their friend and traveling companion. Captain Petrie. It is true that the feeling of discomfort was entirely confined to Miss Grey. The young people were very civil to her when any one of them happened to be next her at table d’hôte, and at other times thought nothing about her; but Miss Grey endured agonies enough for an hotelful of people. She shuddered at Maggie’s striped waistcoat and white sailor’s knot with its golden pin, at her brown boots, at her love of long and hard rides, at her not infrequent slang; above all, at the terms of hearty and familiar camaraderie on which she thought fit to conduct her acquaintance with Captain Petrie. The decorum of literature forbids that Miss Grey’s inmost suspicions should be put in writing; it must suffice to say that they were very dark indeed – so dark that all the other ladies, to whom Miss Grey repeated them, could not but come to the conclusion that there must be some truth in them.

One morning, after breakfast, Miss Grey took her knitting and the Church Times and sat down in the veranda. A moment later, to her disgust, Charlie Lester and Captain Petrie came out of the breakfast room, lit their pipes, and, after a polite “Good-morning,” took their seats a few yards from her. Miss Grey sniffed the tobacco-tainted air, and was about to rise and ostentatiously remove herself from the infected zone, when she heard a scrap of conversation between the two young men which entirely altered her determination. She sat still and listened with all her might.

“I wonder when Maggie will be down,” said Lester; “I want to tell her.”

“Oh, you’re too late,” said Petrie; “I’ve told her.”

“What, have you seen her?”

“Yes. I knew she’d like to know, so I went outside her door five minutes ago and shouted what we’d heard, and she came out directly.”

“Had she anything on?” inquired Lester, in an interested tone.

“No,” responded Captain Petrie; “but that made no difference.”

“It would to me,” said Lester, with a smile.

“And to me,” said the captain; “but it didn’t to her. I reminded her of it, and she said that it made no odds – she wanted to hear all I knew directly. So we stood in the passage, and – ”

Miss Grey had been gradually becoming more and more horrified. She had been prepared for a good deal, but this was too much. And the creature’s own brother listened to it! Her knitting fell from her grasp, and the needles jangled on the tiled floor. The captain hastened to pick them up, interrupting his narrative for that purpose; but Miss Grey froze him with an awful look, and strode into the house.

Miss Grey was a woman who never allowed herself to be turned from the path of duty, however painful that path might be to others. She soon made up her mind as to what she must do, and, having come to a resolution, she laid the whole matter before an informal committee of three irreproachable and austere matrons, whom she selected from among her fellow-guests. The immediate result of their conference was, that when Maggie Lester, looking very fresh and blooming after her morning gallop, came in to luncheon and took her place at the table, no fewer than four elderly ladies put down their knives and forks, rose from their chairs, and solemnly stalked out of the room.

“Hullo! what’s up?” said Charlie Lester.

But nobody knew what was up; and, to all appearance, Maggie least of all, for she cheerfully began her lunch, mere remarking to the captain, as though in continuance of a previous conversation:

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had anything – even the least little bit – on, would it?”

“Ah, you ought to have put your boots on,” said the captain, with a smile.

A fifth lady, sitting by, overheard these remarks, and when, after lunch, Miss Grey informed her of the startling occurrence of the morning, her testimony completed the damning chain of evidence. They made a joke of it! What could the suggestion of boots – only boots – be, except a vulgar, shameless jest? The ladies went in a body to the proprietor, and intimated that either they or the Lester party must forthwith leave the hotel. The proprietor demanded reasons; cogent, irrefragable reasons were supplied by Miss Grey and the fifth lady – reasons clothed, of course, in decorous language, but unmistakably revealing the infamous conduct of Maggie Lester.

“I assure you, ladies,” exclaimed the proprietor, beads of perspiration standing on his brow, “it’s the first time such a thing has ever occurred in my house.”