These Old Shades

him with her confiding smile.

“I have thought of a plan,” she announced. “Suddenly it came to me! Will you please fight me with a sword?”

“Will I do what?” ejaculated Rupert, stopping short.

She stamped an impatient foot.

“Fight with swords! Fence!”

“Thunder an’ turf, what next? Ay, I’ll fence with you, rogue.”

“Thank you very much! You see, Monseigneur began to teach me, but then he went away, and Madam Field does not fence at all. I asked her.”

“You should ask Anthony Merivale to teach you, my dear. Justin’s good, I’ll admit, but Anthony nearly worsted him once.”

“Aha! I knew there was a mystery! Tell me, did Monseigneur intrigue himself with miladi Jennifer?”

“Ran off with her in Anthony’s teeth, my dear!”

“Vraiment? She would not like that, I think.”

“Lord no! But what woman would?”

“I should not mind,” said Leonie calmly. “But Lady Merivale—ah, that is another thing! Was she married then?”

“Devil a bit. Justin’s not often in an affair with a married woman. He wanted to marry her.”

“It would not have done,” she said wisely. “She would have wearied him. Milor’ then came to the rescue?”

“Ay, and tried to fight Justin r outrance. Marling stopped it. Never was there such a scene! They don’t speak now, y’know. Damned awkward, seeing that we’ve known Merivale since we were children. Marling don’t love Justin overmuch either.”

“Oh!” Leonie was scornful. “He is a kind man, that one, but of a dullness!”

“Ay, but ’tis enough to make a man sober to be wedded to Fanny, I can tell you.”

“I think your family is very strange,” she remarked. “Everyone in it hates everyone else. Oh no, Lady Fanny sometimes loves Monseigneur!”

“Well, you see, we’d a spitfire for mother,” Rupert explained. “And the old Duke was no saint, the Lord knows! ’Tis no wonder we grew up like snarling dogs.”

They had arrived at the stables, where Rupert’s horse had been taken. He spoke to one of the grooms, hailing him good-naturedly, and went to inspect the few horses that were there. By the time they returned to the house he and Leonie might have known one another for years. Rupert was delighted with his brother’s ward, and had already decided to remain some time at Merivale. A girl who was as outspoken as a boy, and who evidently did not expect him to make love to her, was something quite new to Rupert. A month ago he had danced attendance on Mistress Julia Falkner; he was weary of the pastime, and had determined to eschew feminine company. But Leonie, with her friendliness and her quaint ways, would be a pleasant amusement, he thought. She was very young, too, and his loves had hitherto been older than himself. He promised himself a few weeks’ gaiety unspoiled by any fear that he would be entrapped into marriage.

He came again next day, and was informed by the lackey who admitted him that Leonie awaited him in the picture gallery. Thither went he, and found her wandering round in coat and breeches, inspecting his ancestors.

“By Gad!” he exclaimed. “You—you rogue!”

She turned quickly, and laid a finger on her lips.

“Where is madame?”

“Cousin Harriet? I’ve not seen her. Leonie, you should always wear those clothes. They suit you, ’pon my soul they do!”

“I think so too,” she sighed. “But if you tell madame she will be agitated, and she will say that it is unmaidenly. I brought the foils up.”

“Oh, we’re to fence, are we, Amazon?”

“You said you would!”

“As you will, as you will! Damme, I’d like to see Julia’s face an she knew!” He chuckled impishly.

She nodded. He had told her of Mistress Falkner already.

“I do not suppose that she would like me,” she observed. She swept a hand round, indicating the many portraits. “There are a great number of people in your family, are there not? This one is nice. He is like Monseigneur, a little.”

“Lord, child, that’s old Hugo Alastair! Devilish rakehelly fellow! They’re a damned gloomy lot, all of ’em, and everyone has a sneer on his face for all the world like Justin himself. Come and look at this one; it’s my respected parent.”

Leonie looked up into Rudolph Alastair’s dissipated countenance.

“He does not please me at all,” she said severely.

“Never pleased anyone, my dear. Here’s her Grace. She was French like yourself. Lord, did you ever see such a mouth? Fascinating, y’know, but a temper like the fiend.”

Leonie moved on to where the last picture hung. An awed look came into her eyes.

“And this is—Monseigneur.”

“It was done a year ago. Good, eh?”

The hazel eyes under their drooping lids looked mockingly down on them.

“Yes, it is good,” said Leonie. “He does not always smile just so. I think he was not in a nice humour when that was painted.”

“Fiendish, ain’t he? Striking, of course, but Lord, what a damned mask of a face! Never trust him, child, he’s a devil.”

The swift colour flooded Leonie’s cheeks.

“He is not. It is you who are a gr-r-reat stupid!”

“But it’s true, my dear. I tell you he’s Satan himself. Damme, I ought to know!” He turned just in time to see Leonie seize one of the foils. “Here! What will you be at——?” He got no further, but leaped with more speed than dignity behind a chair, for Leonie, her eyes flaming, was bearing down upon him with the rapier poised in a distinctly alarming manner. Rupert hoisted the chair, and held it to keep Leonie at arm’s length, a look of comical dismay on his face. Then, as Leonie lunged across the chair he took to his heels and fled down the gallery in laughing panic, Leonie close behind him. She drove him into a corner, where he had perforce to stay, using his chair as a protection.

“No, no! Leonie, I say! Hey, you nearly had me! The button’ll come off for a certainty! Devil take it, it’s monstrous! Put it down, you wild-cat! Put it down!”

The wrath died out of Leonie’s face. She lowered the foil.

“I wanted to kill you,” she said calmly. “I will if you say things to me like that of Monseigneur. Come out. You are cowardly!”

“I like that!” Rupert put the chair down cautiously. “Put that damned foil down, and I’ll come.”

Leonie looked at him, and suddenly began to laugh. Rupert came out of the corner, smoothing his ruffled hair.

“You looked so very funny!” gasped Leonie.

Rupert eyed her gloomily. Words failed him.

“I would like to do it again, just to see you run!”

Rupert edged away. A grin dawned.

“For the Lord’s sake don’t!” he begged.

“No, I won’t,” Leonie said obligingly. “But you are not to say those things——”

“Never again! I swear I won’t! Justin’s a saint!”

“We will fence now, and not talk any more,” said Leonie regally. “I am sorry I frightened you.”

“Pooh!” said Rupert loftily.

Her eyes twinkled.

“You were frightened! I saw your face. It was so fun——”

“That’ll do,” said Rupert. “I was taken unawares.”