Chapter 26 - Page 2

my seeing poor Martin again!"

"Suppose," said Octavia nervously, as they drew up, "suppose they are
here--already."

"They?" exclaimed Miss Belinda. "Who"--but she got no farther. A cry
burst from Octavia,--a queer, soft little cry. "They are here," she
said: "they are! Jack--Jack!"

And she was out of the carriage; and Miss Belinda, following her
closely, was horrified to see her caught at once in the embrace of a
tall, bronzed young man, who, a moment after, drew her into the little
parlor, and shut the door.

Mr. Martin Bassett, who was big and sunburned, and prosperous-looking,
stood in the passage, smiling triumphantly.

"M--M--Martin!" gasped Miss Belinda. "What--oh, what does this mean?"

Martin Bassett led her to a seat, and smiled more triumphantly still.

"Never mind, Belinda," he said. "Don't be frightened. It's Jack
Belasys, and he's the finest fellow in the West. And she hasn't seen
him for two years."

"Martin," Miss Belinda fluttered, "it is not proper--it really isn't."

"Yes, it is," answered Mr. Bassett; "for he's going to marry her before
we go abroad."

It was an eventful day for all parties concerned. At its close Lady
Theobald found herself in an utterly bewildered and thunderstruck
condition. And to Mr. Dugald Binnie, more than to any one else, her
demoralization was due. That gentleman got into the carriage, in rather a
better humor than usual.

"Same man I used to know," he remarked. "Glad to see him. I knew him as
soon as I set eyes on him."

"Do you allude to Mr. Burmistone?"

"Yes. Had a long talk with him. He's coming to see you to-morrow. Told
him he might come, myself. Appears he's taken a fancy to Lucia. Wants to
talk it over. Suits me exactly, and suppose it suits her. Looks as if it
does. Glad she hasn't taken a fancy to some haw-haw fellow, like that
fool Barold. Girls generally do. Burmistone's worth ten of him."

Lucia, who had been looking steadily out of the carriage-window, turned,
with an amazed expression. Lady Theobald had received a shock which made
all her manacles rattle. She could scarcely support herself under it.

"Do I"--she said. "Am I to understand that Mr. Francis Barold does not
meet with your approval?" Mr. Binnie struck his stick sharply upon the
floor of the carriage.

"Yes, by George!" he said. "I'll have nothing to do with chaps like that.
If she'd taken up with him, she'd never have heard from _me_ again. Make
sure of that."

When they reached