CHAPTER XXIV.

"ON REVIENT TOUJOURS À SES PREMIÈRES AMOURS."

"You have returned, I thought you would, Tho' you I spurned, You have returned; The lesson learned Will do you good. You have returned, I thought you would."

When Otterburn disappeared so suddenly from the sight of his friend, he had gone straight across the room to where a slender girl dressed in a dark-green walking costume was standing near the door.

"Can you remember an old friend, Miss Sheldon?" he said in a low voice.

She turned round with a cry of surprise, flushing violently as she recognised him, and held out her hand with the greatest self-possession.

"Of course Mr. Macjean! My memory is not quite so short as you think."

They were both overcome by this unexpected meeting, but as the eyes of the world were on them they were perforce obliged to hide their emotions under a polite mask of indifference. No one, looking at this charming girl and this handsome young man, would have thought there was anything between them but the merest feelings of acquaintanceship. And yet they were both profoundly moved, and each, in some instinctive way, guessed the feelings of the other, although their greeting was so cold and studied.

"I did not expect to meet you here," said Victoria in a friendly tone.

"I suppose not," replied Otterburn politely, "as I only returned to Town about three weeks ago.'

"You have been away?"

"All over the world. Africa is the only place left for me to explore."

"And I daresay you are thinking of going there next?" Otterburn laughed.

"Perhaps! It all depends."

"Upon what?"

"Truth to tell, I hardly know," answered Macjean coolly. "Whims, fancies and desires of sport, I think."

"He doesn't care a bit about me or he would not talk so coldly about going away," thought Victoria, with a sad feeling at her heart, but, being too proud to show her real feelings, merely laughed as she answered his remark.

"There's nothing like enthusiasm! Well, Mr. Macjean, I'm glad to see you again."

"Do you really mean that?" he said anxiously, "or is it only the conventional society phrase?"

"Why should you think so?" replied Miss Sheldon in a displeased tone. "You know I always spoke my mind regardless of social observances."

"I have not forgotten that," observed Otterburn quietly. "Candour is such a wonderful thing to meet with now-a-days, that anyone with such a virtue is sure to be remembered."

"For nine days, I suppose? she said jestingly.

"Yes! or eighteen months," he responded meaningly.

Otterburn was evidently as audacious as ever in trespassing upon dangerous ground, so Victoria, although her heart beat rapidly at his last remark, deftly turned the conversation as she used to do in the old days.

"You have an excellent memory, Mr. Macjean," she said gaily, "but you have forgotten that I have been standing for the last ten minutes, that you have not asked me to have a cup of tea, and that I'm both tired and thirsty."

"A thousand pardons," said Otterburn, penitently offering his arm. "I plead guilty! As you are strong, be merciful."

"To your failings, certainly! I've got too many of my own to refuse absolution. Oh, there's Miss Lossins going to sing. I can't bear these drawing-room songs, so let us go at once."

She took his arm, and as they moved downstairs he felt a thrill run through his body at the light pressure of her hand. He felt inclined to speak boldly then and there, but a vague fear of the result withheld him, and in the presence of the woman he loved, Angus Macjean, man of the world as he was, felt like an awkward schoolboy.

On her part, Victoria felt that she still had an influence on his life, and derived from this instinctive feeling a wonderful amount of pleasure, which could only have been engendered in her breast by a sentiment of reciprocity.

Owing to some ridiculous feeling of pride, neither of them referred to Como during the whole of their conversation, as their parting at that place had been so painful, and although they were both thinking about it yet they talked of everything in the world except what was uppermost in their minds. They had thought of, dreamt of, loved, and desired one another all through these weary eighteen months, and now when they were together and a word would have removed all misunderstandings, neither the man nor the woman had the courage to utter it.

At present, however, they were downstairs indulging in the slight dissipation of afternoon tea, and Victoria, knowing that Otterburn was still her admirer, was quite at her ease, talking gaily about everything and everyone.

"This is awfully nice tea," she said, nodding her head to the Master. "Why don't you try some?"

"I will, on your recommendation," he replied, taking a cup the maid was holding out, "but won't you have some cake?"

"If there's some very curranty cake, I will," said Miss Sheldon gluttonously. "I'll have the brown outside piece."

"Why should that be more desirable than any other piece?" said Macjean as she took it.

"More currants in it! I'm fond of currants."

"So it seems."

"Now don't be severe. Let's talk about something else. Mr. Gartney, for instance."

"Oh, he's here to-day."

"Is he really? I thought it would be too frivolous for him. The Arabian desert is more in his style."

"Well, judging from his book, the Arabian Desert is not entirely devoid of feminine interest."

"Don't be horrid! It's a very charming book."

"Nobody said it wasn't. But I'm astonished to hear you defend Gartney like this. You used to hate him."

"No, no! I didn't exactly hate him, but I must say I didn't like him."

"Isn't that splitting straws?"

"Not at all," retorted Miss Sheldon gaily, "the two things are widely different. But to return to Mr. Gartney. He's really very nice."

"I'm so glad you think so," said Otterburn gravely. "I'll tell him so."

"No, don't," exclaimed Victoria, with genuine alarm. "I wouldn't have him know it for the world."

"Why hide the Sheldon light under the Gartney bushel?"

"You're talking nonsense, but you always did talk nonsense. But, good gracious, look at the time--six o'clock."

"Oh, that clock's wrong."

"So am I--in listening to you. Mr. Macjean, I must go. My chaperon will be waiting for me."

"Who is your chaperon?" asked Otterburn, as they ascended the stairs. "Mrs. Trubbles?"

"No! she's in the country. Now I am under the care of Mrs. Dills. Do you know her?"

"Only as the wife of Mr. Dills."

"She's a most amiable woman, but not pretty."

"Curious thing, amiable women never are."

"How cruel--to me."

"Pardon! you are the exception----"

"To prove your extremely severe rule! Thank you!"

Talking in this light and airy manner, which was really assumed to hide their real feelings, Miss Sheldon and her lover arrived at the drawing-room, found Mrs. Dills, small, spiteful and vivacious, to whom Victoria introduced the Master, and then went off to say goodbye to Mrs. Veilsturm.

When she returned, and Otterburn was escorting her downstairs in the train of Mrs. Dills he noticed a puzzled look on her face, and promptly asked the reason of it. She did not answer at first, but as they stood on the step, waiting for the carriage, suddenly asked him a question.

"Who introduced Sir Guy Errington to Mrs. Veilsturm?"

"Gartney did--to-day."

"To-day," she repeated, in astonishment. "Why from their manner to one another I thought they were old friends."

"Mrs. Veilsturm has such a sympathetic manner you see."

"Yes, very sympathetic," replied Victoria, sarcastically. "But here is the carriage Goodbye, Mr. Macjean. Come and call on Aunt Jelly."

"Certainly! I am anxious to make the acquaintance of Aunt Jelly."

"So anxious that you delayed the pleasure by three months," replied Miss Sheldon laughing, as the carriage drove away, leaving Otterburn on the steps in a very jubilant frame of mind.

When he had somewhat recovered his presence of mind, he went off to find Eustace, being so overburdened with his secret happiness that he felt it a necessity to speak to some one on the subject. Eustace knew all about his passion, Eustace had been a good friend in finding out Victoria's sentiments towards him, so Eustace was undoubtedly the proper person to speak to in this emergency.

After a hunt of some moments' duration, he found Mr. Gartney in company with Errington, talking to Mrs. Veilsturm, and while the latter seemed flushed and excited, the face of the former wore an enigmatic smile. Mrs. Veilsturm herself had been aroused from her habitual languor, and was chatting gaily, while Major Griff, ostensibly talking to Dolly Thambits, was in reality looking at Errington with a frown. It was quite a little comedy, and Eustace alone possessed the requisite understanding to enjoy it, although from the studied expression of his face it was impossible to tell his real feelings.

Otterburn touched Eustace on the shoulder, and drew him away from the group.

"I say, I believe it's all right," he said, in a eager whisper.

"What is all right?" asked Eustace, in a puzzled voice. "Oh, you know," replied Otterburn, with some disgust at his friend's density. "I met Miss Sheldon here, and--and I spoke to her."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" observed Gartney, with a kindly smile. "I suppose I must congratulate you?"

"Not yet. But I think it's all right," said Otterburn, repeating his first remark. "The way she talked, you know, and I talked also, and--and----"

"And you're counting your chickens before they're hatched," said Gartney impatiently. "Don't be angry, Macjean," he added, seeing Angus looked annoyed, "it's only my fun! I think it will be all right--that is if she's forgiven you for the Como business."

"Eh?" said Otterburn, obtusely. "I think it's she who requires to be forgiven."

"I'm afraid you won't find her take that view of the question," replied Gartney cruelly. "In love, the woman is always right and the man everlastingly wrong."

"What a dog-in-the-manger you are, Gartney," said Otterburn angrily, the brightness dying out of his face, "you won't love anyone yourself, or let anyone else do it. I tell you Miss Sheldon and myself understand one another. She asked me to call and see Aunt Jelly."

"How delightful--for Aunt Jelly," remarked Eustace sarcastically. "I hope the pair of you won't indulge in sentiment before the old lady--she doesn't believe in it."

"I'll take my chance of that," observed Angus cheerfully. "But I've got such a lot to tell you about Victoria. Come along with me to the Club."

"Very well," replied Gartney, in a resigned manner. "It seems my fate to hear love confidences. I'll come as soon as I can persuade Guy to leave Mrs. Veilsturm, or rather as soon as I can persuade Mrs. Veilsturm to let Guy go."

"It seems to me six of one and half a dozen of the other, as far as that goes," said Otterburn shrewdly.

Eustace did not reply, but walked up to his cousin and the lady.

"I'm afraid we must go, Mrs. Veilsturm," he said, smiling at Cleopatra.

"Oh, it's early yet," remarked Cleopatra languidly. "Must you go, Sir Guy?"

"I suppose so," answered Errington, looking at his watch. "Time, tide and dinner wait for no man. It's past six."

"So like a man," laughed Cleopatra, "thinking of his dinner before everything else."

"No, really," responded Errington, colouring at this rude remark, "but I've got an engagement, and I always like to be punctual."

"In that case don't forget my 'At Home' next week," said the lady, with a bewitching glance.

"Oh, no, I won't forget that," replied Errington coolly, much more coolly than Cleopatra liked, but she suppressed her anger at his nonchalance, and turned to Eustace.

"Goodbye, Mr. Gartney, so good of you to have come to-day. Mr. Maclean, I've no doubt I'll see you to-night at Lady Kerstoke's dance. Sir Guy, I hope you will find your way here again. Goodbye, all of you," and then her attention was claimed by another batch of departing guests, while the three gentlemen went downstairs.

"Well," said Eustace, with a sigh of relief, as they walked down Park Lane, "I must candidly confess I hate 'At Homes."

"Oh, no," replied Otterburn, with his mind full of Victoria, "they're very jolly."

"Oh, for the freshness of youth!" sighed Gartney, looking at the bright face of his companion. "Guy, what is your opinion?"

"What about?" asked Errington, rousing himself from a fit of abstraction. "Mrs. Veilsturm?"

"We were talking about 'At Homes,'" said Eustace, equably, "but as you've mentioned Mrs. Veilsturm, what is your opinion on that lady?"

"She's very pleasant, but rather overpowering," was Errington's verdict.

"And that's her reward for devoting the whole afternoon to you--'Oh, the ingratitude of man!'"

"She's not a woman I would fall in love with," said Otterburn, with an air of having settled the question.

"Nor I," echoed Sir Guy, so very resolutely that Eustace knew at once he was doubtful of his own strength of will.

"Self righteous Pharisees, both," he said scoffingly, "you talk bravely, but if Cleopatra put forth her strength she could twist you both round her finger."