A Collection

(avery) #1
Lady Molly - The End

The cracking of twigs on the moss-covered ground indicated that the two men had parted and
were going their several ways.


With infinite caution, and holding my hand tightly in hers, my dear lady made her way along
the narrow path which led us out of the wood.


Once in the road we walked rapidly, and soon reached our garden gate. Lady Molly had not
spoken a word during all that time, and no one knew better than I did how to respect her
silence.


During dinner she tried to talk of indifferent subjects, and never once alluded to the two men
whom she had thus willfully pitted one against the other. That her calm was only on the
surface, however, I realized from the fact that every sound on the gravel path outside caused
her to start. She was, of course, expecting the visit of Mr. Felkin.


At eight o'clock he came. It was obvious that he had spent the past hour in wandering about
in the woods. He looked untidy and unkempt. My dear lady greeted him very coldly, and
when he tried to kiss her hand she withdrew it abruptly.


Our drawing-room was a double one, divided by portiere curtains. Lady Molly led the way into
the front room, followed by Mr. Felkin. Then she drew the curtains together, leaving me
standing behind them. I concluded that she wished me to stay there and to listen, conscious
of the fact that Felkin, in his agitated mood, would be quite oblivious of my presence.


I almost pitied the poor man, for to me--the listener--it was at once apparent that my dear lady
had only bidden him come tonight in order to torture him. For about a year she had been
playing with him as a cat does with a mouse; encouraging him at times with sweet words and
smiles, repelling him at others with coldness not unmixed with coquetry. But tonight her
coldness was unalloyed; her voice was trenchant, her attitude almost one of contempt.


I missed the beginning of their conversation, for the curtains were thick and I did not like to go
too near, but soon Mr. Felkin's voice was raised. It was harsh and uncompromising.


"I suppose that I am only good enough for a summer's flirtation?" he said sullenly, "but not to
marry, eh? The owner of Appledore Castle, the millionaire, Mr. Baddock, is more in your line-
---"


"It certainly would be a more suitable match for me," rejoined Lady Molly coolly.


"He told me that you had formally accepted him," said the man with enforced calm; "is that
true?"


"Partly," she replied.


"But you won't marry him!"

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