A Lost Leader | Page 6

suggested the environment
of a court, Mrs. Handsell was distinctly, even from a distance, a
pleasant person to look upon. He nodded approvingly.
"Yes, she is good-looking," he admitted. "Is she a neighbour of yours?"
"She has taken a house within a hundred yards of ours," Clara
Mannering answered. "We all think that she is delightful."
"Is she a widow?" Borrowdean asked.
"I imagine so," she answered. "I have never heard her speak of her
husband. She has beautiful dresses and things. I should think she must
be very rich. Stand quite still, please. I must take great pains over this
stroke."
A wild shot from Clara's partner a few minutes later resulted in a
scattering of the little party, searching for the ball. For the first time
Borrowdean found himself near Mrs. Handsell.
"I must have a few words with you before I go back," he said,
nonchalantly.
"Say that you would like to try my motor car," she answered. "What do
you want here?"
"I came to see Mannering."
"Poor Mannering!"

"It would be," he remarked, smoothly, "a mistake to quarrel."
They separated, and immediately afterwards the ball was found. A little
later on the round was finished. Clara attributed her success to the
excellence of her caddie. Mrs. Handsell deplored a headache, which
had put her off her putting. Lindsay, who was in a bad temper, declined
an invitation to lunch, and rode off on his bicycle. The rest of the little
party gathered round the motor car, and Borrowdean asked
preposterous questions about the gears and the speeds.
"If you are really interested," Mrs. Handsell said, languidly, "I will take
you home. I have only room for one, unfortunately, with all these clubs
and things."
"I should be delighted," Borrowdean answered, "but perhaps Miss
Mannering--"
"Clara will look after me," Mannering interrupted, smiling. "Try to
make an enthusiast of him, Mrs. Handsell. He needs a hobby badly."
They started off. She leaned back in her seat and pulled her veil down.
"Do not talk to me here," she said. "We shall have a quarter of an hour
before they can arrive."
Borrowdean assented silently. He was glad of the respite, for he wanted
to think. A few minutes' swift rush through the air, and the car pulled
up before a queer, old-fashioned dwelling house in the middle of the
village. A smart maid-servant came hurrying out to assist her mistress.
Borrowdean was ushered into a long, low drawing-room, with open
windows leading out on to a trim lawn. Beyond was a walled garden
bordering the churchyard.
Mrs. Handsell came back almost immediately. Borrowdean, turning his
head as she entered, found himself studying her with a new curiosity.
Yes, she was a beautiful woman. She had lost nothing. Her
complexion--a little tanned, perhaps--was as fresh and soft as a girl's,
her smile as delightfully full of humour as ever. Not a speck of grey in

her black hair, not a shadow of embarrassment. A wonderful woman!
"The one thing which we have no time to do is to stand and look at one
another," she declared. "However, since you have tried to stare me out
of countenance, what do you find?"
"I find you unchanged," he answered, gravely.
"Naturally! I have found a panacea for all the woes of life. Now what
do you want down here?"
"Mannering!"
"Of course. But you won't get him. He declares that he has finished
with politics, and I never knew a man so thoroughly in earnest."
Borrowdean smiled.
"No man has ever finished with politics!"
"A platitude," she declared. "As for Mannering, well, for the first few
weeks I felt about him as I suppose you do now. I know him better now,
and I have changed my mind. He is unique, absolutely unique! Do you
think that I could have existed here for nearly two months without
him?"
"May I inquire," Borrowdean asked, blandly, "how much longer you
intend to exist here with him?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"All my days--perhaps! He and this place together are an anchorage.
Look at me! Am I not a different woman? I know you too well, my
dear Leslie, to attempt your conversion, but I can assure you that I
am--very nearly in earnest!"
"You interest me amazingly," he remarked, smiling. "May I ask, does
Mannering know you as Mrs. Handsell only?"

"Of course!"
"This," he continued, "is not the Garden of Eden. I may be the first, but
others will come who will surely recognize you."
"I must risk it," she answered.
Borrowdean swung his eyeglass backwards and forwards. All the time
he was thinking intensely.
"How long have you been here?" he asked.
"Very nearly two months," she answered. "Imagine it!"
"Quite long enough for your little idyll," he said. "Come, you know