The Argosy | Page 5

flat about a quarter of a mile from the river. Many years ago,
he told me, that house had been the scene of a terrible murder, and was
said to have been haunted ever since. Nobody would live in it; it was
shunned as a place accursed, and was now falling slowly into decay and
ruin. I listened to the story with breathless interest, and the telling of it
seemed to make us quite old friends. After this there seemed no lack of
subjects for conversation. George shipped his oars, and the boat was
allowed to float lazily down the stream. He told about his schooldays,
and I told about mine. The height of his ambition, he said, was to go
into the army, and become a soldier like his dear old uncle. But Major
Strickland wanted him to become a lawyer; and, owing everything to
his uncle as he did, it was impossible for him not to accede to his
wishes. "Besides which," added George, with a sigh, "a commission is
an expensive thing to buy, and dear old uncle is anything but rich."
When we first set out that morning I think that George, from the
summit of his eighteen years, had been inclined to look down upon me
as a little school miss, whom he might patronise in a kindly sort of way,
but whose conversation could not possibly interest a man of his sense
and knowledge of the world. But whether it arose from that
"old-fashioned" quality of which Major Strickland had made mention,
which caused me to seem so much older than my years; or whether it
arose from the genuine interest I showed in all he had to say; certain it
is that long before we got back to Rose Cottage we were talking as
equals in years and understanding; but that by no means prevented me
from looking up to him in my own mind as to a being superior, not only
to myself, but to the common run of humanity. I was sorry when we got
back in sight of the weir, and as I stepped ashore I thought that this
morning and the one I had spent with Sister Agnes in Charke Forest
were the two happiest of my life. I had no prevision that the fair-haired
young man with whom I had passed three such pleasant hours would,
in after years, influence my life in a way that just now I was far too
much a child even to dream of.

CHAPTER VI.
THE GROWTH OF A MYSTERY.
We started at five o'clock to walk back to Deepley Walls, the Major,
and I, and George. It was only two miles away across the fields. I was
quite proud to be seen in the company of so stately a gentleman as
Major Strickland, who was dressed this afternoon as for a visit of
ceremony. He had on a blue frock-coat, tightly buttoned, to which the
builder had imparted an intangible something that smacked undeniably
of the old soldier. He wore a hat rather wide in the brim; a high stiff
checked cravat; a white vest; and lacquered military boots, over which
his tightly-strapped trousers fell without a crease. He had white
buckskin gloves, a stout silver-headed malacca cane, and carried a
choice geranium in his button-hole.
There was not much conversation among us by the way. The Major's
usual flow of talk seemed to have deserted him this afternoon, and his
mood seemed unconsciously to influence both George and me. Lady
Chillington's threat to send me to a French school weighed down my
spirits. I had found dear friends--Sister Agnes, the kind-hearted Major,
and his nephew, only to be torn from them--to be plunged back into the
cold, cheerless monotony of school-girl life, where there would be no
one to love me, but many to find fault.
We went back by way of the plantation. George would not go any
farther than the wicket at its edge, and it was agreed that he should
there await the Major's return from the Hall. "I hope, Miss Janet, that
we shall see you at Rose Cottage again before many days are over," he
said, as he took my hand to bid me farewell. "Uncle has promised to
ask her ladyship to spare you for a few days."
"I shall be very, very glad to come, Mr. George. As long as I live I shall
be in your debt, for I cannot forget that I owe you my life."
"The fairy godmother is whispering in her ear," said the Major in a loud
aside. "She talks like a woman of forty."

While still some distance away we could see Lady Chillington sunning
herself on the western terrace. With a pang of regret I saw that Sister