Father Stafford | Page 4

she make you do that?"
Eugene nodded sadly, and Bob went off into a fit of obtrusive
chuckling. Eugene cast a large cushion dexterously at him and caught
him just in the mouth, and, still sadly, rose and went in search of his
lady-love.
"Why the dickens does he marry that girl?" exclaimed Bob. "It beats
me."
Bob Territon was not the only person in whom Eugene's engagement to
Kate Bernard inspired some surprise. But neither he nor any one else
succeeded in formulating very definite reasons for the feeling. Kate was
a beauty, and a beauty of a type undeniably orthodox and almost
aristocratic. She was tall and slight, her nose was the least trifle arched,
her fingers tapered, and so, it was believed, did her feet. Her hair was
golden, her mouth was small, and her accomplishments considerable.
From her childhood she had been considered clever, and had vindicated
her reputation by gaining more than one certificate from the various
examining bodies which nowadays go up and down seeking whom they

may devour. All these varied excellences Eugene had had full
opportunities of appreciating, for Kate was a distant cousin of his on
the mother's side, and had spent a large part of the last few years at the
Manor. It was, in fact, so obviously the duty of the two young people to
fall in love with one another, that the surprise exhibited by their friends
could only have been based on a somewhat cynical view of humanity.
The cynics ought to have considered themselves confuted by the fait
accompli, but they refused to do so, and, led by Sir Roderick Ayre, had
been known to descend to laying five to four against the permanency of
the engagement--an obviously coarse and improper proceeding.
It is possible that the odds might have risen a point or two, had these
reprehensible persons been present at the little scene which occurred on
the terrace, whither the girls had betaken themselves, and Eugene in his
turn repaired when he had armed himself with Tennyson. As he
approached Claudia rose to go and leave the lovers to themselves.
"Don't go, Lady Claudia," said Eugene. "I'm not going to read anything
you ought not to hear."
Of course it was the right thing for Claudia to go, and she knew it. But
she was a mischievous body, and the sight of a cloud on Kate's brow
had upon her exactly the opposite effect to what it ought to have had.
"You don't really want me to stay, do you? Wouldn't you two rather be
alone?" she asked.
"Much rather have you," Eugene answered.
Kate rose with dignity.
"We need not discuss that," she said. "I have letters to write, and am
going indoors."
"Oh, I say, Kate, don't do that! I came out on purpose to read to you."
"Lady Claudia is quite ready to make an audience for you," was the
chilling reply, as Kate vanished through the open door.

"There, you've done it now!" said Eugene. "You really ought not to
insist on staying."
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Lane. But it's all your fault." And Claudia tried to
make her face assume a look of gravity.
A pause ensued, and then they both smiled.
"What were you going to read?" asked Claudia.
"Oh, Tennyson--always read Tennyson. Kate likes it, because she
thinks it's simple."
"You flatter yourself that you see the deeper meaning?"
Eugene smiled complacently.
"And you mean Kate doesn't? I'm glad I'm not engaged to you, Mr.
Lane, if that's the kind of thing you say."
Eugene opened his mouth, shut it again, and then said blandly:
"So am I."
"Thank you! You need not be afraid."
"If I were engaged to you, I mightn't like you so well."
A slight blush became visible on Claudia's usually pale cheek.
Eugene looked away toward the horizon.
"I like the way quite pale people blush," he said.
"What do you want, Mr. Lane?"
"Ah! I see you appreciate my character. I want many things I can't
have--a great many."

"No doubt," said Claudia, still blushing under the mournful gaze which
accompanied those words. "Do you want anything you can have?"
"Yes! I want you to stay several more weeks."
"I'm going to stay." said Claudia.
"How kind!" exclaimed Eugene.
"Do you know why?"
"My modesty forbids me to think."
"I want, to see a lot of Father Stafford! Good-by, Mr. Lane. I'll leave
you to your private and particular understanding of Tennyson."
"Claudia!"
"Hold your tongue," she whispered, in tones of exasperation. "It's very
wicked and very impertinent--and the library door's open, and Kate's in
there!"
Eugene fell back in his chair with a horrified look, and Claudia rushed
into the house.
CHAPTER II.
New Faces and Old Feuds.
There was, no doubt, some