LITMIR.BIZ

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As to becoming your wife, I never may be. You know that."

      "No, I don't, sweetest." Ralph possessed himself of her frock hem and kissed it fervently. "I know that your father doesn't think I am a good match for you, and that your mother wishes you to marry a title. All the same, I intend to have my own way and make you Mrs. Shawe for a time."

      "For a time!" cried Audrey, indignantly. "What do you mean, Ralph?"

      "Until you are Lady Shawe, dearest, or perhaps Lady Bleakleigh. That is the Somerset village where I was born," explained Ralph. "My father is the squire. When I get my title--and I shall some day, by sheer dint of brain-power--I shall take that title; then you will be--"

      But Audrey was not listening. "Bleakleigh--Bleakleigh," she muttered; "where have I heard that name?"

      "From your father," said Shawe, promptly. "He told me one evening, in a moment of expansion after dinner, that he came from Bleakleigh, starting as a farm labourer to end as Sir Joseph Branwin, the millionaire."

      "He won't end at that," said Audrey, gravely; "papa is too ambitious. Like yourself, he intends to gain a Peerage, and may some day be Lord Bleakleigh, before you can secure the title."

      "Well, it doesn't matter, so long as I secure you."

      "You won't, if my parents are to be considered."

      "Then why consider them?" asked Ralph, coolly. "I know that they both want you to marry a Duke or an Earl, so as to forward their plans for social advancement; but I don't see why you should be sacrificed in this way."

      "Oh, I shan't be sacrificed, I promise you," said Audrey, nodding her small head vigorously; "and when it comes to fighting, I think that mamma will be on my side. She is very fond of me."

      "Of course. Aren't both of your parents fond of you?"

      "Mamma is, but I don't think papa loves me much. He looks upon me as one of the pawns in the game of life, to be moved that he may win. You must have seen that, from the way in which he has forbidden you the house."

      "I think he treated me very badly," said Ralph, flushing. "I went to him and stated frankly that I loved you, explaining my prospects, which are of the best. He behaved like a--well, I can't say--"

      "I can," interrupted the girl, rising, with a shrug--"like a pig."

      "My dear!" Shawe rose also, and looked somewhat shocked.

      "Oh, what is the use of mincing matters?" said Audrey, wearily. "You know, and I know, and everyone else knows, that my father is a rude, blatant, uncouth labourer, just as he was when he left Bleakleigh years ago. He treats my mother shamefully, and shows in every way that he has no love for me. 'Honour thy father' doesn't apply to me, I assure you. I am most unhappy at home."

      "I wish we could marry at once," said Ralph, biting his fingers, "and then we could see little or nothing of him; but I am not yet in a position to marry, unfortunately."

      "Never mind, darling"--she took his arm, and they strolled across the grass towards the gravelled path--"until you are ready to marry me I shall remain true to you. I shan't marry anyone with a title, unless you become Lord Bleakleigh, of course; and by that time I shall be a client of Madame Coralie's, since you won't be Lord Chancellor for years and years."

      "I wish you wouldn't talk of going to this beauty-factory, Audrey," said the young man, irritably; "you know that I prefer you as God made you."

      "Now, dearest; but when I am old--"

      "I shall love you all the same."

      "I hope so," said Audrey, with a little sigh; "but men love good looks in a woman, and when those go love grows cold."

      "With mere animal men, but not with one like myself. I love with my heart more than with my eye. Don't class me with your father."

      "I wouldn't marry you if I did," she retorted. "It's bad enough to have Sir Joseph Branwin as a father without taking one of his nature as a husband. If you only knew how he has insulted poor mamma about her looks! That is why she has gone to Madame Coralie. But I don't think that anything will do much good, even if poor mamma became as beautiful as Venus. Papa seems to have taken a dislike to her. It makes me very unhappy," ended the girl, with a mournful shake of the head.

      Ralph frowned, and considered. He hated to think that Audrey's youthful spirits should be damped by the disagreement between her parents--a disagreement which rose solely from Sir Joseph's animal nature. With all his brain power he was a mere hog of the fields, and good looks in women alone attracted him towards the sex. Shawe knew of Sir Joseph's attentions to various actresses and Society beauties, which had been spoken about openly enough at the clubs; and it was quite likely that, now his purse gave him the power to lure women into liking, if not into love, he was growing weary of his uncomely old wife. There was something very pathetic in the shapeless, homely Lady Branwin seeking to recover her husband's affections by making herself attractive artificially. But he privately agreed with Audrey that it was too late, and even if Lady Branwin became, unnaturally, as beautiful as Venus, he felt certain that Sir Joseph would continue to dislike her. His distaste for his old wife was more than skin deep; of that Ralph felt sure.

      "Is Lady Branwin at the shop now?" asked Ralph, when the two passed through the side gate of the Gardens at the back of the Palace, and speaking anything rather than his thoughts, for obvious reasons.

      "Yes. She stayed there last night, so that Madame Coralie could decide if she would undertake to give her the necessary treatment. If she does, mamma will have to remain for a week or more. I am calling to ask what is to be done, as papa is in a bad temper because my mother stopped away. He insists that she shall return home."

      "I wonder Lady Branwin doesn't get a separation," muttered the barrister, again reflecting on Sir Joseph's attentions to other women.

      "If she dared to take legal proceedings papa would turn her into the street without a penny," said Audrey, calmly. "I am under no illusion as to his nature, my dear. But let us get on. I wish to be home as soon as possible to give papa his breakfast. If I am not there, since mamma is still absent, he will make himself so disagreeable."

      "He invariably does," said Ralph, grimly; for a single interview with the millionaire had given him an astonishing insight into the man's brutal nature. "Where is this shop, Audrey?"

      "Down this lane. Yonder it is, painted pink."

      "What a glaring advertisement," remarked Shawe, as they walked quickly down the crooked by-way. "If Madame Coralie paints her customers as she has done her shop, they must all look like blowsy dairymaids. She seems to be doing a good trade this morning."

      "There is a crowd," admitted Audrey, with an anxious glance; "but it's odd a crowd should be round the shop at this hour. Madame's clients usually come at night, and very privately."

      "I don't think these are customers," said Shawe, as they reached the large assemblage of people which blocked the lane.

      The individuals who composed the mob certainly were not the Society customers of Madame Coralie, as they comprised poor men and women of the lowest classes, with here and there a better-dressed person. Policemen were directing the throng and keeping order, but they could not prevent tongues clacking, and there was quite a babel of voices.

      "What is the matter?" Audrey asked a red-faced female in rusty black.

      "Murder!" said the woman, with relish. "One of them fine ladies who comes here to get painted has been done for."

      Audrey grew white and started. "Do you know the name?"

      "Ho yes, miss. I heard a policeman say as she was called Lady Branwin."

      "Ralph, Ralph!" whispered the girl, and clutched her lover to keep herself from falling. "My mother! Murdered! Oh, Ralph!"

       CHAPTER III

      THE LOST BAG

      Notwithstanding

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