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The idea was suggestive; Trixy drew a deep breath, and made a fresh spurt this time on the subject of the late Thomas Moore and his melodies. But the young baronet suddenly interposed. "I beg your pardon, Miss Stuart," he began hastily, and in a somewhat nervous voice; "but there is a subject very near to my heart on which I should like to speak to you this evening."
He hesitated; then held his breath; and in a total suspension of thought slowly reached his hand down into a side pocket of his trousers. And then he almost yelled aloud for joy. His pocketknife was there! Meanwhile Trixy. It was cruel not to be able to end her suffering. What had become of the gun? It was in his hand when he toppled over the edge of the platform, and must have fallen with him.
"You always were the soul of generosity, Trixy, but why the victoria?" "My dear Lula," he replied, "if there's any other carriage you prefer ?" Honora did not hear the answer, which at any rate was scarcely audible. She moved away, and her eyes continued to follow Vercingetorix as he trotted about the tan-bark after a groom. And presently she was aware that Trixton Brent was standing beside her.
His large, rather light blue eyes, look at one sometimes as though to say: "'I have a secret sorrow here, A grief I'll ne'er impart, It heaves no sigh, it sheds no tear, But it consumes the 'art!" Miss Darrell was an actress by nature she repeated this lachrymose verse, in a sepulchral tone of voice. "That's it, you may depend, Trixy. The poor young gentleman's a prey to unrequited affection.
Her step-mother was master and mistress in her father's house, and to return, to go back to Sandypoint, and the life she had left, was as utter an impossibility almost as though she should take a rope and hang herself. She had not the means to go if she had desired, but that made no difference. She could never go back, never see her father, or Charley, or Trixy more.
"Never dreamed of this!" he repeated, in amaze; "when you must have seen must have known " She interrupted him, a faint smile curling her lips. "I thought it was Trixy," she said. "Miss Stuart! Then she has told you nothing of that night at Killarney I really imagined she had. Miss Stuart has been my kind friend, my one confidante and sympathizer.
"It would be impossible to forget Mrs. Dallam," declared Mrs. Kame. "So I should have thought," said Honora. Trixton Brent laughed, and Mrs. Kame, too, after a moment's hesitation. She laid her hand familiarly on Mr. Brent's arm. "I haven't seen you all summer, Trixy," she said. "I hear you've been here at Quicksands, stewing in that little packing-case of yours.
Then it was all over; they were gone; the wheels that bore them away crashed over the gravel: Edith Darrell felt as though they were crashing over her heart. That night the Stuarts were established in elegant apartments at Langham's Hotel. But alas for the frailty of human hopes! "The splendid time" Trixy so confidently looked forward to never came.
Trixy plunged forward with a snort, and Haig saw that the trail was again plain across another field of scattered stones. Now, thrilled by this victory, he urged the pony onward at all possible speed toward the worst of all the perils of the mountain.
"My experience with your sex," he declared enigmatically, "has not been a slight one." "Trixy!" interrupted Mrs. Chandos at this juncture, from his other side, "Warry Trowbridge won't tell me whether to sell my Consolidated Potteries stock." "Because he doesn't know," said Mr. Brent, laconically, and readdressed himself to Honora, who had, however, caught a glimpse of Mrs. Chandos' face.
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