The Castle of the Shadows | Page 4

Roger evasively. "By Jove! Loria is
right. It is cold here. Let us turn back."
"I should like to buy that château," announced the American girl, as

calmly as if she had spoken of acquiring a new brooch.
"Good gracious! What next?" exclaimed Sir Roger. "But you're not in
earnest, of course."
"I am in earnest," said she. "I should love to have it. It's an ideal house,
set on that great rocky hill, and ringed round with olive groves. Though
the sun is gone so soon from the bottom of the valley, where we are,
the château windows are still bright. The place fascinates me. I am
going to ride in and ask to see the house. Who will come with me?"
Virginia looked at the Marchese with a half-smiling challenge; but he
did not speak, and Lady Gardiner's black eye gave out a flash. She was
as poor as she was handsome and well-born, and her life as the
American girl's chaperon was an easy one. The thought that Virginia
Beverly might make up her mind to become the Marchesa Loria was
disagreeable to Kate Gardiner, and she was glad that the Italian should
displease the spoilt beauty.
"I'll go with you, dear, if you are really bent on the adventure," said the
elder woman.
"Forgive me, Miss Beverly. But I--once knew these people. I could not
go into their house on such an errand. They would think I had come to
spy on their misfortune," protested Loria miserably.
"I knew them too," said Roger Broom, "and I'll stay down here and
keep Loria company."
Lady Gardiner looked at George Trent, with whom she was having an
amusing flirtation, which would certainly have been more than amusing
if he had been only a quarter as rich as his half-sister.
"I'll take you and Virgie up to the door, anyhow," he responded to the
look, and springing from his horse, he pushed open the tall gate of rusty
iron.
Then, mounting again, the three passed between the gray stone

gate-posts with an ancient carved escutcheon obliterated with moss and
lichen. They rode along the grass-grown avenue which wound up the
hill among the cypresses and olive trees, coming out at last, as they
neared the château, from shadow into a pale, chastened sunshine which
among the gray-green trees had somewhat the effect of moonlight.
"Have you ever heard of the Dalahaides?" Virginia demanded of her
chaperon.
"If I have, I've forgotten," said Lady Gardiner. "And yet there does
seem to be a dim memory of something strange hovering at the back of
my brain."
They were above the grove now, on a terrace with a perspective of
ruined garden, whence the battered faces of ancient statues peeped out,
yellow-white from behind overgrown rose bushes and heliotrope. The
château was before them, the windows still reflecting the sunlight; but
this borrowed glitter was all the brightness it had. Once beautiful, the
old battlemented house had an air of proud desolation, as if scorning
pity, since it could no longer win admiration.
"You would have to spend thousands of pounds in restoring this old
ruin if you should really buy it, Virginia," said Lady Gardiner.
"Well, wouldn't it be worth while to spend them?" asked the girl. "I
certainly----" She stopped in the midst of her sentence, a bright flush
springing to her face; for turning a corner of the avenue which brought
them close to the château, they came suddenly upon a young woman,
dressed in black, who must have heard their last words.
Instantly George Trent had his hat in his hand, and before Virginia
could speak he had dismounted and plunged into explanations. He
begged pardon for the intrusion, and said that, as they had seen the
announcement that the château was for sale, they had ventured to ride
up in the hope of being allowed to see the house. As he spoke, in fairly
good though rather laboured French, he smiled on the girl in black with
a charming smile, very like Virginia's. And Lady Gardiner looked from
one to the other gravely. She was not as pleased as she had been that

George Trent had come here with them, for the girl in the shabby black
dress had a curiously arresting, if not beautiful face, and her
surroundings, the background of the desolate castle, and the
circumstances of the meeting, framed her in romance.
Lady Gardiner did not like the alacrity with which Trent had snatched
off his hat and sprung from his horse, nor did she approve of the
expression in his eyes, though Virginia's were just as eager.
To the surprise of all three, the girl answered in English; not the
English of a French jeune fille, instructed by an imported "Miss," but
the English of an