By this time the proud blood has mounted to her face. "I came to you for advice, not for a discourse on the conscience," she says, with a splendid look of injured dignity. "I know I am right; and I know that she is right, children or no children. You say that Lord Willowby will probably refuse--" "Balfour says so, according to your ac.count." "Very well; and you explain that he might be called on to make good the money. Could not he be induced to consent by some guarantee some indemnity-" mon. "Certainly, if you can get a big enough fool to become responsible for £50,000 to the end of time. Such people are not comBut there, sit down, and put aside all these fantastic speculations. The immediate thing you want is Lord Willowby's consent to this act of legal vandalism. If he refuses, his refusal will be based on the personal interests of his daughter He will not - consider children or grandchildren. Long before her eldest born can be twenty-one, Lord Willowby will be gathered to his fathers; and as for the risk he runs, he has not a brass farthing that any one can seize. Very well you must explain to Lady Sylvia, in as delicate a way as you can, that there might be youthful Balfours in the days to come, and that she must consider whether she is acting rightly in throwing away this provision "Then let that be settled. Of course, all husbands' wishes are law. Then you must explain to her what it is she is asking her father to do, and point out that it will take a good deal of appealing before he consents. He has a strictly legal right to refuse; further, he can plead his natural concern for his daughter's interests-" "He ought to have more regard for his daughter's honour!" says she, warmly. "Nonsense! You are talking as if Balfour -had gone into a conspiracy to get up a fraudulent settlement. It is no business of hers that the firm failed-" "I say it is a matter of strict honour and integrity that she should give up this money; and she shall give it up!" says Queen Twith an indignant look. "Very well, then; if you are all quite TH CHAPTER L. A NEW COMPANION. HE arrival of the new sovereign to take possession of the ceded dominions had been made known to the people at Eagle Creek Ranch; and soon our poor Bell was being made the victim of continual interviews, during which agents, overseers, and lawyers vainly endeavoured to get some definite information into her bewildered head. For what was the use of reporting about the last branding of calves, or about the last month's yield of the Belle of St. Joe, or about the probable cost of the new crushing machines, when the perpetual refrain of her thinking was, " Oh, good people, wouldn't you take the half of it, and let me have my children?". Fortunately her husband was in no wise bewildered, and it was with not a little curiosity that he went off to inspect the horses and two carriages that had been sent on to Denver for us from the ranch. My lord was pleased to express his approval of these; albeit that one of the vehicles was rather a rude-looking affair. The other, howeverdoubtless Colonel Sloane's state carriage— was exceedingly smart, and had obviously been polished up for the occasion; while, as regards the horses, these were able to elicit even something more than approval from this accomplished critic. He went back to the hotel highly pleased. He believed he had got some inkling that life at the ranch was not wholly savage. The beautiful polished shafts and the carefully brushed dark blue cushions had had an effect on his imagination. And then, right in the midst of all this turmoil, Lady Sylvia got a telegram from New York. We had just sat down to dinner in the big saloon, at a separate table; and we were a sufficiently staid and decorous party, for Mr. and Mrs. Von Rosen-that you and Mr. Balfour would be a whole were dressed in black, and the rest of us had donned whatever dark attire we had with us, out of respect to the memory of the lamented Jack Sloane. (One of the executors was to call in on us after dinner; but no matter.) This telegram produced quite a flutter of excitement, and for the moment we forgot all about Texan herds and placer mines. Lady Sylvia became a trifle pale as the telegram was handed to her, and she seemed to read it at one glance; then, despite herself, a smile of pleasure came to her lips, and the colour returned to her face. "Ah, yes, you may well ask," said the young man, moderating his fervour, "for It was too soon with my gladness. I will: have to persuade you before we can cry any hurrahs. What I was thinking of was this "But what is this, Mr. Von Rosen?" she said, and she endeavoured to talk in a matter-of-fact way, as if nothing at all had happened. "My husband speaks of some proposal you have made to him." "Yes," said the lieutenant, blushing like a guilty school-boy. He looked at his wife, and both were a trifle embarrassed; but at this moment Lady Sylvia handed the telegram across the table. "You may read it," she said, indifferently, as if it had conveyed but little news to her. And yet it was a long telegram-to be sent by a man who was not worth sixpence. year with us, and we should have great amusement; and the shooting that I have heard of since yesterday-oh! I cannot tell you of it. But he says it is all subject to your wishes; now I must begin to persuade you to stay away from England for a whole year, and to give us the pleasure of your. society. It is a great favour that my wife and myself we both ask of you; for we shall be lonely out here until we get used to the place and know our neighbours; but if you were our neighbours, that would be very pleasant. And I have been very busy to find out about Eagle Creek-oh no, it is not so bad as you would think; you can have everything from Denver-I do not know about ladies' saddles, but I will ask— and it is the most beautiful and healthy air in the world, Lady Sylvia-" "My dear Mr. Von Rosen," said Lady Sylvia, interrupting him with a charming smile, "don't seek to persuade me; I was persuaded when I got the message from my husband; for of course I will do whatever he wishes. But if you will let me say so, I don't think this proposal of yours is very wise. It was scarcely fair of you to write to New York and inveigle my husband into it without letting me know. It is very charming,. no doubt, and you are very kind; and I have not the least doubt we shall enjoy ourselves very much; but you must remember that my husband and myself have something else to think of now. We can not afford to think only of shooting and riding, and pleasant society. Indeed, I took it for granted that. my husband had come out to America to find some profession or occupation; and I am rather surprised that he has accepted your proposal. It was too tempting, I suppose, and I know we shall enjoy ourselves very much "” Husband and wife had been glancing at. each other, as if to inquire which should speak first. It was the lieutenant who took the burden on his shoulders, and certainly he was extremely embarrassed when he began. Fortunately in these Western hotels, you are expected to order your dinner all at once, and it is put on the table at once; and. then the waiter retires, unless he happens to be interested in your conversation, when he remains, and looks down on your shoulders. In this case, our coloured brother had moved -off a bit. "Lady Sylvia," said he, "I wish Mr. Balfour had explained to you what the proposal is in a letter; but how could that be? He will be here as soon as any letter. And I am afraid you will think me very impertinent when I tell you." He looked at her for a second; and then the courage of this man, who had been through the whole of the 1866 and 1870-'71 campaigns, and done good service in both, fell away altogether. "Ah," said he, lightly-but the Germans are not good actors, "it is a little matter. I will leave it to your husband to tell you. Only this I will tell you, that you must not think that your husband will spend the whole year in idleness—” "It is a mystery, then?" she said, with a smile. I am not to be allowed to peep into the secret chamber? Or is it a conspiracy of which I am to be the victim? Mrs. Von Rosen, you will not allow them to murder me at the ranch ?" Mrs. Von Rosen was a trifle embarrassed also, but she showed greater courage than her husband. "I will tell you what the secret is, Lady Sylvia," she said, "if my husband won't. He is afraid of offending you: but you won't be offended with me. We were thinking, my husband and myself, that Mr. Balfour was coming out to America to engage in some business; and you know that is not always easy to find; and then we were thinking about our own affairs at the same time. You know, dear Lady Sylvia"-and here she put her hand gently on her friend's hand, as if to stay that awful person's wrath and resentment--" we run a great risk in leaving all these things, both up at Idaho and out on the plains, to be managed by persons who are strangers to us-I mean when we go back to England. And it occurred to my husband and myself that if we could get some one whom we could thoroughly trust to stay here and look into the accounts and reports on the spot-well, the truth is, we thought it would be worth while to give such a person an interest in the yearly result rather than any fixed salary. Don't you think so?" she said, rather timidly. "Oh yes, certainly," Lady Sylvia replied. She half guessed what was coming. "And then," said our Bell cheerfully, as if it were all a joke, my husband thought he would write to Mr. Balfour, telling him that if he wished to try this for a time-just until he could look round and get something better-it would be a great obligation to us; and it would be so pleasant for us to have you out here. That was the proposal, Lady Sylvia. It was only a suggestion. Perhaps you would not care to remain out here, so far away from your home; but in any case I thought you would not be offended." She was, on the contrary, most deeply and grievously offended, as was natural. Her indignant wrath knew no bounds. Only the sole token of it was two big tears that quietly rolled down her face-despite her endeavours to conceal the fact; and for a second or two she did not speak at all, but kept her head cast down. "I don't know," said she, at length, in a very low and rather uncertain voice, "what we have done to deserve so much kindness --from all of you.' "Oh no, Lady Sylvia," our Bell said, with the utmost eagerness, you must not look on it as kindness at all-it is only a business proposal; for, of course, we are very anxious to have every thing well looked after in our absence-it is of great importance for the sake of the children. And then, you see, Mr. Balfour and yourself would be able to give it a year's trial before deciding whether you cared to remain here; and you would be able to find out whether the climate suited you, and whether there was enough amusement-" "Dear Mrs. Von Rosen," said Lady Sylvia, gently, "you need not try to explain away your kindness. You would never have thought of this but for our sakes-' "No," she cried, boldly; "but why? Because we should have sold off every thing at the end of the year, rather than have so much anxiety in England. But if we can get this great business properly managed, why should we throw it away?" "You forget that my husband knows nothing about it—" "He will have a year to learn; and his mere presence here will make all the difference." "Then it is understood Lady Sylvia ?" the lieutenant said, with all the embarrassment gone away from his face." You will remain with us one year, anyway?" "If my husband wishes it, I am very will ling," she said, "and very grateful to you." "Ha!" said the lieutenant, "I can see wonderful things now-waggons, camp fires, supper parties; and a glass of wine to drink to the health of our friends away in Eng land. Lady Sylvia, your husband and I will write a book about it--A Year's Hunting in Colorado and the Rocky Mountains.” "I hope my husband will have something else to do," Lady Sylvia said, "unless you mean to shame us altogether." "But no one can be working always. Ah, my good friends," he said, addressing the remaining two of the party, "you will be sorry when you start to go home to England. You will make a great mistake then. You wish to see the Alleghany Mountains in the Indian summer? Oh yes, very good; but you could see that next year; and in the mean time think what splendid fun we shall have-" "Ask Bell," said Queen T-, with a quiet smile, "whether she would rather return with us now, or wait out here to hear of your shooting black-tailed deer and mountain sheep?" At this point a message was brought into us, and it was unanimously resolved to ask Bell's business friend to come in and sit down and have a glass of wine with us. Surely there were no secrets about the doings of Five-Ace Jack unfit for us all to hear? We found Mr. T. W. G- a most worthy and excellent person, whose temper had not at all been soured by his failure to find the philosopher's stone. It is true, there was a certain sadness over the brown and wrinkled face when he described to us how the many processes for separating the gold from the crushed quartz could just about reach paying expenses, and without doing much more; and how some little improvement in one of these processes, that might be stumbled on by accident, would suddenly make the discoverer a millionaire, the gold bearing quartz being simply inexhaustible. It was quite clear that Mr. G― had lost some money in this direction. He was anxious we should go up to Georgetown, when we were at Idaho, to see some mines he had; in fact, he produced sundry little parcels from his pocket, unrolled them, and placed the bits of stone before us with a certain reverent air. Our imagination was not fired. He had known Colonel Sloane very well, and he spoke most discreetly of him; for was not his niece here in mourning? Nevertheless, there was a slight touch of humour in his tone when he told us of one of Bell's mines—the Virgin Agnes-which led one or two of us to suspect that Five-Ace Jack had not quite abandoned his tricks, even when his increasing riches rendered them unnecessary. The Virgin Agnes was a gulch mine, somewhere in the bed of the stream that comes rolling down the Clear Creek canon and it was originally owned by a company. It used to pay very well. But by-and-by the yield gradually diminished, until it scarcely paid the wages of the men ; and, in fact, the mine was not considered worth working further. At this point it was bought by Colonel Sloane; and the strange thing was that almost immediately it began to yield in a surprising manner, and had continued to do so ever since. Mr. G— congratulated our Bell on being the owner of this mine, and said he would have much pleasure in showing it to her when she went up to Idaho; but he gravely ended his story without dropping any hint as to the reason why the Virgin Agnes had slowly drooped and suddenly revived. Nor did he tell us whether the men employed in that mine were generously allowed by Colonel Sloane to share in his good fortune. He asked Bell whether she proposed to start for Idaho next day. She looked at her husband. "Oh no," said the lieutenant, promptly. "We have a friend arriving here on Saturday. We mean to wait for him." "Pray don't delay on his account,' Lady Sylvia said, anxiously. "I can very well remain here for him, and come up to you afterward." "Oh we shall have plenty to do in these three or four days-plenty," the lieutenant said; "I must see about the ladies' saddles to-morrow, and I want to buy an extra rifle or two; and a revolver, and a hunting-knife. And then this list of things for the house at Idaho --" No doubt there was a good deal to be done; only one would have thought that three or four days were pretty fair time in which to prepare for a short trip up the Clear Creek canon. It was not, however. On the Saturday morning every one was most extraordinarily busy, especially as the time approached for the arrival of the train from Cheyenne. Next day all the shops would be shut; and on Monday morning early we started, "Lady Sylvia," said the lieutenant, with ingenuous earnestness, "I must really go after those saddles again. Tell Mr. Balfour I shall be back to lunch, will you, if you please?" Indeed, one went away on one mission, and the other on another, until there was no one of the party left in the hotel with Lady Sylvia but Queen T. The latter was in her own room. She rang, and sent a servant to ask her friend to come and see her. She took Lady Sylvia's hand when she entered. "I am going to ask you to excuse me," said she, with great innocence. "I feel a little tired; I think I will lie down for an hour, until luncheon-time. But you know, dear Lady Sylva, if there are none of them down stairs, all you have to do is to get into the omnibus when it calls at the door, and they will drive you to the station; and you will not have long to wait." The white hand she held was trembling violently. Lady Sylvia said nothing at all; but her eyes were moist, and she silently kissed her friend, and went away. About an hour thereafter, four of us were seated at a certain small table, all as mute as mice. The women pretended to be very busy with the things before them. No one looked toward the door. Nay, no one would look up as two figures came into the big saloon, and came walking down toward us. "Mrs. Von Rosen,' said the voice of Lady Sylvia, in the gayest of tones, "let me present to you your new agent-" But her gayety suddenly broke down. She left him to shake hands with us, and sat down on a chair in the dusky corner, and hid away her face from us, sobbing to herself. "Ha!" cried the lieutenant, in his stormiest way, for he would have none of this sentiment, "do you know what we have got for you after your long journey? My good friend, there is a beefsteak coming for you; and that-do you know what that is ?-that is a bottle of English ale !' O CHAPTER ĻI. OUR LAST NIGHT TOGETHER. N that Monday morning when we left Denver to seek Bell's distant home in these pale-blue mountains, there was no great rejoicing among us. It was the last day of our long journeying together, and we had been pleasantly associated; moreover, one of us was going to leave her dearest friend in these remote wilds, and she was rather downhearted about it. Happily the secret exultation of Lady Sylvia, which could not altogether be concealed, kept up our spirits somewhat we wondered whether she was not going to carry her husband's portmanteau for him, so anxious was she about his comfort. The branch line of rail that pierces for some distance the Clear Creek canon takes a circuitous course on leaving Denver through some grassy plains which are intersected by narrow and muddy rivulets, and are sufficiently uninteresting; so that there was plenty of opportunity for these sojourners to sketch out something of their plans of living for the information of the new comer. But Balfour-who, by the way, had got thoroughly bronzed by his travelling-would not hear of all the fine pleasure excursions that the lieutenant was for planning out. "We are under enough obligations to you," said he, "even if I find I can do this thing; but if I discover that I am of no use at all, then your charity would be too great. Let us get to work first; then, if the way is clear, we can have our play afterward. deed, you will be able to command my attendance, once I have qualified myself to be your servant." In "Yes, that is reasonable," said the lieutenant. "I am quite sure," said Lady Sylvia, "that my husband would be a poor companion for you, so long as our affairs are unsettled-" "And, besides," said Balfour, with a laugh, "You don't know what splendid alternative schemes I have to fall back on. On the voyage over I used to lie awake at night, and try to imagine all the ways in which a man may earn a living who is suddenly made penniless. And I got up some good schemes, I think; good for a man who could get some backing, I mean." |