The Crowned Skull | Page 2

in the hot sunshine, and Sir Hannibal secretly assured himself with much satisfaction that the fete would bring in much money to the chapel. He liked to play the Lord of the Manor even on a small scale, and regarded those who attended the fete as so many worshippers who came to adore him--which they certainly did in a most snobbish manner.
As Sir Hannibal was a widower, with a daughter who would soon be married, at least so said the gossips, many young ladies had, as the saying goes, set their caps at him. He seemed to favour Miss Anne Stretton, a dark-eyed, handsome woman, who was studying art, and had just enough to keep a roof over her head and dress well, which she invariably did. Sir Hannibal, as Miss Stretton knew, was poor, but then he had a position, and was, as she guessed, fairly manageable. It was worth her while to be Lady Trevick, and that position she was determined to occupy, even though her heart drew her in the direction of Ralph Penrith, a dissipated-looking man, whose pedigree was long and whose income was extremely small.. These two were at the fete, and talked together a great deal, perhaps, on Miss Stretton's part, to arouse the jealousy of Sir Hannibal, and force him into an ardently-wished-for proposal.
'You have scarcely given me a word,' complained Sir Hannibal, advancing to where Miss Stretton sat along with his rival. 'Will you not accept my arm and walk round the grounds?'
'Certainly,' assented the lady, alertly, and shot a glance at Penrith, whose face grew dark, 'but I cannot stay long. Mr. Penrith's mother has asked me to stay for a few days, and he drives me out to the Manor House at four o'clock.'
'It is three now,' said Penrith, looking at his watch; 'you have an hour to explore the grounds, Miss Stretton.'
'It will not take us long to drive five miles,' she replied carelessly, and walked away with the baronet, leaving Penrith sullen and silent. After a time he strolled away to the tent where drinks were sold and enjoyed himself there in his own gross way.
Miss Stretton looked sideways at her companion as they strolled among the visitors. She saw a well-preserved man of over fifty who might pass for forty, and could not but admire his alert military looks and perfect dress. Catching her gaze Sir Hannibal smiled, and examined her in his turn. She was certainly handsome--quite a fine woman, although it could be seen that later in life she would become stout and heavy. Her eyes were dark, and she knew how to use them, and her frock was all that could be desired, even by so fastidious a man as Sir Hannibal Trevick.
'You are very cruel to me,' he murmured in her ear.
'On the contrary,' said Miss Stretton, smiling. 'I should blame you. I have been here for half an hour and this is the first time that I have set eyes on you. But for Mr. Penrith I should have been sadly neglected. These St. Ewald people look down upon a poor artist.'
'They are jealous, dear lady. You are fit to be a queen.'
'I am a queen, without a kingdom,' said Miss Stretton meaningly.
'You shall have one soon,' replied Sir Hannibal significantly. 'A small kingdom, it is true, but still one wherein you can reign supreme.'
'The size does not matter so long as love rules.'
'And love would rule, were you the queen.'
'That so much depends on my subjects,' replied the lady, quickly, and cast another look on him, which made the elderly heart of Sir Hannibal beat faster than it had done for years.
They were in a secluded part of the grounds overlooking the beach, and undoubtedly after so propitious an opening Trevick would have proposed, but that he was interrupted. He had just opened his mouth to speak, and Miss Stretton, with a heightened colour, was getting ready to accept him, when Dericka appeared along with Forde. With his dark looks and her golden beauty they made a comely couple, but Sir Hannibal frowned all the same. His frown was reflected on the face of the calm queenly woman beside him. Dericka, glancing from one to the other, drew her own conclusions. She knew what Miss Stretton desired, and, not liking her, congratulated herself on thus preventing a proposal. Forde saw nothing, and shook hands with Anne; but Dericka saw everything with the quickness of a woman who is in love herself, and at once proceeded to detach her father from this too fascinating adventuress--as she characterised Miss Anne Stretton.
'You are wanted, papa,' she said quickly. 'Mr. Bowring is waiting for you in the library.'
'Mr. Bowring!' echoed Sir Hannibal, growing red and looking fierce; 'and what may Mr. Bowring want?'
'I really do