Warped

Chapter I

The glorious sun of a bright summer morning was shining down on the heather-clad hills, sparkling on the ripples of the noisy little burn, gleaming on cornfields and pinewoods, farmsteads and hamlets, and filling the hearts of God's creatures with glad ness and joy. But neither the sun's glory, nor the sweet fragrance of flowers, the busy hum of bees, nor the merry chirping of birds could dispel the sorrow of Jessie Monro, who was sitting in the garden with her face buried in her hands, and sobbing as if her heart would break. Her grief was so all-absorbing that she did not A WARPED. 2 hear the click of the latch on the garden gate, or the sound of footsteps on the gravel walk. The intruder was a fine, tall fellow, attired in a suit of rough tweed, with a cap of the same material pushed back on his head of curly brown hair.

He came up the walk as far as the house. He had gone up the steps and was just about to turn the handle of the front door when a glance to the left revealed Jess sitting on the wooden bench under the window. He started and hesitated what to do. He had come the nearest way across-country from Gart Station, he had leaped the burn where it was broadest, and had sneaked along the side of the privet - hedge that enclosed the garden, all on purpose to add to the surprise that his unexpected arrival would be sure to cause at Tofthills. He had somehow or other suspected that left-hand window, and was rather disappointed to have sailed in the effect he had intended to produce, though no one at the window had watched his approach. His disappointment was but short-lived, for he soon convinced himself that Jess was in trouble, and the question now was whether he should respect her trouble and steal softly away, or whether he should claim the privilege of a friend and seek to share it.

Deciding on the latter course, he stepped up to WARPED. 3 Jess on tip-toe and bending down, he lightly touched her hand. Jess raised her head, and her amazement at see ing who it was hardly exceeded his own astonish ment at the sight of her beauty, sadly marred though it was by tears. ' Mr Glyn ! ' she exclaimed, rising and hurriedly drying her dark eyes and brushing away the tresses of hair that had strayed down over her forehead. 'What's the matter, Jess — Miss Monro?' Jack Glyn asked, correcting himself. Miss Monro sounded strange, but it hardly seemed right to call her Jess. ' Oh, I am so glad you have come ! ' Jess ex claimed, without noticing the correction he had made or the confusion he was in. ' I can't tell you how glad I am,' she continued ; ' I'm in such dreadful trouble. But how selfish of me to be only thinking of my own unhappiness.

Do come in and have some of the milk you used to like so much, and tell me when you came, and why you did not send us word that you were com ing, and all about yourself.' ' No, no, let us stay here ; sit down.' He seated himself and pointed to a place beside him. ' I want to know why you are in trouble.' ' It will only be vexing you,' said Jess ruefully. ' No, sit down ! ' WARPED. ' You can guess what my trouble is. I have only one trouble in life, and it is harder than ever to bear now.' 'Your father? Good gracious, nothing has happened to him ; he is not ill ? ' I could bear that. No, he is not ill — worse than that — ' Her voice was stifled with sobs, and the tears began to chase down her cheeks. Jack drew her tenderly down on the seat. ' Come, come ! ' he said soothingly, ' you must not break down in this way.

Tell me what it is that's making you miserable. You remember how I helped you last summer ? Can't I help you now ? You said you were glad to see me, surely it was because you knew I could help you ? ' ' Yes, you can. No one ever cheered him as you did since mother's death, and I believe you can save him from ruin now. Soon after you went away last October he became melancholy again. I tried to follow your advice and to adopt your methods, but what was the good ? I am so ignorant, so clumsy and stupid. He knew more about the books we read than I did, and soon lost interest in reading ; he beat me at chess till he got tired of playing with me ; then I am only a girl, Mr Glyn, and, though I persuaded him to go out I could not be a companion to him as a man could. He WARPED. 5 seemed to miss the fishing with you more than anything, and took to moping indoors.

Yet, for all that, you had done him so much good by your kindness and attention to him. You seemed to have cured him of that sullen despondency of his, which had been my greatest trial, and which baffled you at first He was easier to manage, and less exacting. But this morning, not half an hour before you came, I discovered that I had been cherish ing a false hope — he has been deceiving me, and oh ! Mr Glyn, I could have borne anything but that' ' Deceiving you, and how ? ' He has taken to drink.' ' You never suspected it before ? ' Jack inquired, with a very serious expression on his face. This was certainly very bad news. ' No, why should I have done ? He had always been in the habit of taking a little, so that if I did occasionally notice the smell of spirits I thought nothing of it. He was never bad enough to arouse my suspicions, though now I can see that at times, when I supposed him to be unusually silent and heavy, he really was under the influence of drink.' ' What did you discover to make you so sure ? ' ' Well, I must just tell you that in my father's bedroom there is a cupboard in the wall, where my WARPED. mother's things were put after she died.

I don't know for what reason, except that I imagined my father treasured its contents, it never struck me as odd that the cupboard was always locked and that he jealously kept the key. This morning, when I went upstairs to make his bed as usual, I was astonished to find the cupboard door just open, and I looked in. It was a sickening sight. There were empty bottles jumbled up on every shelf among all my poor mother's things.' Jess's emotion got the better of her at this point, and she utterly broke down. Jack was disconcerted, as men often are under the outburst of a woman's grief. He sat for some time screwing the heels of his boots into the gravel, and staring blankly at the holes he was making, till it occurred to him that for the present, at any rate, his first duty must be to make Jess stop crying. ' Where is your father ? ' he asked, as a preliminary proceeding. ' He has gone to market, and will be back by the five train.' ' I ought to go and show myself at the Lodge.

Mrs Macpherson will be wondering where I've got to ; but I don't like to leave you in this miserable state. Do cheer up like a good girl ! It will never do for your father to think you have found WARPED. 7 him out ; you must be brave. Besides, I am here now to help you, things may not be half as bad as you fancy. Promise now to try and make yourself happy and I'll turn up at six o'clock this evening.' 'Will you?' ' Yes, on that one condition that you do your best to forget all about your troubles. There must be no pretence about it; mind, I shall know if there is.' ' I'll promise anything, if you will help me. It is childish of me to cry, but now you are here I won't. Look ! ' and, drying her eyes, Jess gazed up into his face and laughed. Jack's gaze was riveted on her. What a wonderful change had come over her during those ten months since last he had seen her.

He knew of prettier faces than hers, but of none more captivating. It's those bewitching eyes of hers with their long dark fringes, he mused as he walked on to the Lodge. She was such a slip of a thing not a year ago, and he had merely been interested in her because she was so devoted to that gloomy father of hers, who never appeared to appreciate in the least what she did for him, and was always wanting her to do more than any slave would have done. Meanwhile Jess was lingering at the gate, watch- WARPED. ing Jack, as he walked briskly down the slope from the house, till he passed the foot-bridge over the burn, and, striking across the fields, disappeared among the distant fir trees surrounding the Lodge. Her feelings were different from his. Time had wrought no change in him. He was, as he had ever been to her, the finest of men — the embodi ment of all that was heroic and unselfish, her father's friend.

And he was near that father again ; near him again in this darkest of dark hours, and ready and willing to try and restore him to happiness and peace by that wonderful influence, he alone could exercise over the sorrow-stricken man. It was with a light heart that she returned to the house, when Jack was quite out of sight, to resume her morning's work and to make up for lost time. Jess was not quite eighteen years old, too young one would almost have thought to have the sole management of the domestic concerns of a large farm. Fortunately for her she had always been fond of housework, and would much have preferred being allowed to stay at home and help her mother to being sent to a boarding-school at Aberdeen. Her father, however, who was a man of good education, and prosperous enough at the time to entertain somewhat ambitious views about the WARPED. 9 future of his only child, had decided to have her well schooled and well brought up before en couraging her natural talents for the details of housekeeping.

The effect of this decision had certainly been to refine and polish Jess to an extent, rare at anyrate, among farmers' daughters in the Gart district, though it was lucky for Robert Monro, under the sad circumstances which upset all his calculations for the future, that the process of refinement had not spoiled Jess for the humbler duties of home, to which she was called by her mother's death. By four o'clock there was no sign about Toft hills that its mistress had been a whole hour behind her work in the morning, and she herself was round at the stables harnessing her pony into a light trap, on her way to the station to drive her father back. ' You're full airly the day, Miss Monro,' said Willie Fraser to her at Gart. Willie was loitering with several other men near the railings that divided the platform from the open space outside the little country station. ' Nae so airly as you,' Jess replied, to the amusement of Willie's comrades. ' Will you gie's your slwltie while you get out ? ' Willie asked. 'Thank you, no ; I'll just keep him on the move WARPED. 10 myself,' said Jess, whipping up the reins and driving off.

Everybody in the country-side knew that Willie was in love with Jess Monro. Jess knew it, and, not being altogether flattered by the bucolic sim plicity with which she was wooed, was forced to be sharper with poor Willie than if his skin had not been proof against mild snubs. ' Willie, man, its nae eese,' one of his com panions remarked, as soon as Jess was well out of hearing. ' You'll no get her,' said another. ' Let me tell you there's that braw chiel at the Lodge again.' ' Whatna chiel ? ' was loudly asked. ' Why, ye ken the chappie as came there afore ; was't last summer ? ' 'Oh, ay!' 'When came he? ' Willie inquired. ' He came aff the train the morn. I see'd him myself, and he tramped awa' ower yon hill.' ' The nearest road to Toftie's, eh ? Willie, what say you to that ? ' ' I'll wager he'll be aye hanging roun' Toftie's as he used to be, coorting Jess, though, they div say, she'd gar a body believe he never did tak' a smack of her pretty lips.

Hoot, awa' wi' ye, Bill, let the lass be ; she's no a wife for an honest fairmer.' WARPED. 11 'And what for no, I'd just like to ken?' said a big, sturdy fellow standing apart from the group, who, up till now, had been silently smoking his pipe. He did not wait for an answer, but went on : ' You'll not find a lass this side the Dee '11 do a day's wark like Jess Monro ; and as for making Willie or any other man a wife, I'll be sworn she'll never marry as long as Toftie is alive.' An interesting discussion might have been pro voked by this remark but for a shrill whistle which suddenly pierced the air and re-echoed from the wood-clad hills. In a few minutes the train had swept into view, and had run up alongside the platform. Robert Monro alighted with a number of other farmers. Jess picked his tall, burly figure out from the crowd, and fixed her eyes on him with the keen scrutiny born of the terrible discovery she had made that morning.

Robert caught sight of her and walked towards her with a firm step and erect carriage, very reassuring to Jess. 1 Weel, lassie ! ' he said, as he took his seat beside her in the trap ; ' you managed to get ? ' These were generally his first words to her, for it was an understood thing that she should not meet his trains if hindered by her work or any unforeseen engagement. ' Yes, I did get, though it was a push to-day,' WARPED. 12 Jess replied, giving the pony a touch with the whip. ' Nothing's happened, I suppose ? ' Something has happened.' ' Oh ! and what is it ? ' ' I'm not going to tell you,' said Jess laughing. ' Jimmy Reid been up about that cow to sell ? ' 'No.' ' The old horse dead ? ' ' It's not a bit of use trying to guess ; you wont' ' Then why not tell me ? ' ' You shall know in good time.

I've got a little surprise for you.' ' Hm ! a surprise ! It's a pleasant one, I hope?' ' You'll just have to be patient now and ask no more questions. If it's not pleasant I'm sure it will not be unpleasant. Have you done any busi ness at the market, and did you buy me my sauce pan?' The rest of the drive was mainly occupied with answers to these and similar inquiries addressed to Robert by Jess. At Tofthills Robert ill-concealed his curiosity to ascertain what surprise Jess had in store for him, and, in the fun of keeping him in suspense, Jess was able to forget the unhappy thoughts which his return home might have brought to mind. WARPED. 13 She hung his hat and coat up in the hall for him, pretending not to notice the uneasy glances he cast about him, and, taking him into the dining-room, she gave him his slippers, and then made him sit down to tea, chatting merrily away all the while, and delightfully indifferent to the anxious eagerness with which he watched every movement and listened to every sound.

When tea was over she settled him comfortably in his big arm-chair, and gave him his pipe and his newspaper. Then she cleared the table, tidied up the room, went out to see that the servants had finished their supper and that the dairy was ready for the churning in the morning, and finally returned with a basketful of socks to darn. The clock on the mantelpiece struck six. Jess knew it was nearly ten minutes fast, and, suddenly changing the commonplace conversation that was engaging them, she said, with ex quisitely feigned astonishment, — ' Father dear, you haven't once asked what the surprise was that I have got for you ? ' Robert slowly fixed his heavy grey eyes upon her. Jess pushed her work hastily aside, and threw herself down on her knees before him. ' I've been teasing you, but you're not angry with me, are you ? ' WARPED. ' No, lassie, no ; your old father does not mind being teased.' ' Old father !

Well, now suppose my old father was in a wishing mood to-night, and that I was a good fairy, what — no, not what — whom — is that right ? — whom would my old father like to see ? ' Robert smiled and shook his head. 'Come, is there nobody you can think of? Robert still shook his head. ' Let me ask you differently. Suppose some body who could cheer you up could come to-night, who should that somebody be ? ' 'Somebody?' Robert repeated. There was a sound of footsteps outside. ' I'll tell you ! ' cried Jess excitedly, ' Mr Glyn ! Listen ! ' But. before Robert could convince his senses that the front door had really opened, Jess had started up to her feet and, running out into the hall, had led Jack into the room in triumph.

Chapter II

A month after his sudden reappearance at Toft hills, Jack Glyn was sitting one evening opposite Robert Monro over a game of chess in the dining room, which was also the sitting-room at the farm. Elated by his two previous victories, a rare occurrence in his contests with Jack, Robert had been playing very cautiously and had really con trived a very neat ' mate,' the thought of which was almost too good to be true. He was now bending over the board, minutely studying the position of the men, trembling with joyous excite ment, yet comically trying to hide his feelings by an expression of seriousness, and doing his best amid sighs and groans to put his adversary off his guard. Jack meanwhile was sitting back in his chair, puffing away at an empty pipe, and apparently interested in a game about which he •5 WARPED. was not thinking in the least, except to wish that Robert would make haste to bring it to an end.

Convincing himself finally that Jack's king was entrapped beyond all possibility of escape, Robert began to chuckle, and after giving his hands a good rub he brought forward his white bishop, kept his finger over it for half a minute, and then relinquished it with the jubilant cry of ' Check ! ' Jack sat up affecting great amazement. ' Well, I'm blest, it's mate ! ' he exclaimed when he had feigned to discover some mode of retreat. ' Mate ! ' cried Robert with delight ; he was not under the necessity of apologising for his successes as Jack was. ' Yes, mate ! ' Jack said, pensively surveying the situation. ' Are you for another ? ' ' As you like.' 'Well I think, if it's all the same to you, we'll put it by for to-night. I'm rather tired after our walk. Jack was relieved though he did not show it.

He looked in a casual way at the clock and re placed the chessmen in their box. ' You must let me be revenged some other time ; and now I think I'll go and fetch Jess from Glen muir. It's about nine, and I could get down there WARPED. ■7 before ten, just as the concert was over. What do you say ? ' ' That it would be very kind of you to go,' said Robert. ' You see the lassie had to make a few calls on her way there this afternoon, and could not drive. But why don't you take the pony and trap? Alec shall have them ready for you in a few minutes. ' No ; I should prefer the walk. Sit down.' ' But you must be nearly as tired as I am. There's really no need for you to go at all. Jess is sure to get a lift part of the way home.' Jack went to the window. ' It's a beautiful night,' he said ; ' a walk will do me good.

Don't try and make me lazy ! ' 'If you are bent on it, would you mind taking the latch-key with you and then I can go to bed comfortably? It'll be late before she comes in if you walk back the whole way.' Jack eagerly assented to the proposal that Robert should give him the key and not wait for Jess ; and, lighting his pipe, he bade Robert good-night at the door and struck across the fields in a straight line for Glenmuir. Jack was doing a foolish thing, and it was only by setting himself a vigorous pace, and by making the most of the obstacles that lay in the way to impede his easy progress, that he was able to B WARPED. crowd out the better thoughts prudence was trying to press upon his consideration. Once or twice he was nearly cornered and tempted to divert his steps to the Lodge, but the fact that Robert had gone to bed, and that the latch-key was in his pocket, plausibly suggested the neces sity he was under of continuing his course to Glenmuir.

The idea of fetching Jess home from the concert had suddenly entered Jack's head. He and Robert had been out all day. They had taken the train to Geith, a point ten miles distant by rail, and, fishing down the Geith stream, had got back to the Lodge about four o'clock in the afternoon. Here they had parted, with a promise on Jack's part to rejoin his friend later on at Tofthills. Jack had his dinner at five, and by six o'clock was at the farm and astonished to find Robert alone. He had heard something about the concert from Jess, but if she had ever said anything to him about going to Glenmuir he must have forgotten it. Here at last was the opportunity he had so long been waiting for. He had been up at Tofthills every day for the last week, and at all sorts of odd times, on the chances of finding Jess by herself, but without satisfactory results.

The kind of private interview he wished to have with her was not one to be arranged, and other circumstances besides WARPED. 19 those of time and place were required to favour it before it could answer his purpose. A five-mile walk with Jess, along a lonely road on a beautiful moonlight night, was too tempting an opportunity to be thrown away. Of course it was an exceed ingly rash thing to do in his present state of mind, but he soothed himself with the reflection that he meant no harm, and that it was really almost worth going to Glenmuir, if only to see whether Jess would be pleased or not at unexpectedly having him to escort her home. What if she would prefer to drive back with some of her friends from the neighbourhood of Tofthills ? She probably would not ; still, any argument does against conscience at times when conscience is more than usually troublesome.

The large barn in which the concert was being held was crammed to its utmost capacity, and the audience, relaxing the strain put upon its mental and physical powers of endurance by a long programme and the defective seating arrangements, was lustily venting its loyalty in the con cluding lines of the National Anthem as Jack posted himself at the door, among a number of yokels, to whom the few 'bawbees' charged for admission had been a serious consideration. When the crush to get out was over, Jack, who had been driven back from the door, and had seen WARPED. nothing of Jess, returned to have a look into the barn before deciding to walk home by himself. To his great relief Jess had not gone, but was talking to the minister, while Willie Fraser was loitering near to offer her a ' ride ' in his ' machine.' The moment Jess caught sight of Jack she hastened towards him with an exclamation of sur prise and alarm. ' There's nothing the matter with father, is there ? ' ' Nothing at all.

He's in bed and asleep by this time, and as I thought I should like the walk I've come down for you.' Jess went back to shake hands with the minister, and, wishing Willie Fraser a good-night, was soon on her way home with Jack. When they were well out of the village and Jess had told him all about the concert, Jack somewhat startled her by abruptly asking if she was glad he had come for her.' ' Of course I am,' she replied without hesitation. ' I was not sure if you would be.' ' Why, don't I seem grateful ? ' ' You seem glad enough certainly, but I wanted to know whether you really are or not It's a long way to bring you when you might perhaps have got a drive. WARPED. 21 This was not exactly what Jack would have said had he been able to control himself better. In his anxiety to steer the conversation into narrower limits he had 'been irritatingly clumsy ; and Jess must have detected the tones of irritation in his voice, else why was she silent 'You're not angry at what I said just now?' Jack asked. ' No, not angry.' ' Then why are you so quiet ? ' 'There's something the matter with you, Mr Glyn !

You've lately been so different with me to what you used to be, and it makes me very miserable. I've often meant to speak to you about it but was frightened of you. Have I done any thing wrong ? Do tell me ? ' She was looking up at Jack with tear-dimmed eyes. He did not speak. She was convinced now that she had somehow displeased him, and, in the innocence of her heart, was not going to rest till she had made him tell her the reason of his displeasure. ' What have I done Mr Glyn ? Don't spare me for the sake of my poor father ! I could not bear the thought of offending you and driving you away from him ! ' ' Why — why only from him ? Why must you always be thinking of him ? Are you to WARPED. be counted for nothing? Is nothing ever done to please you ? — to make you happy ? ' Before Jess could fully realise what these words meant, spoken as they were, she felt an arm wound tenderly round her, and heard the words, — 'Jess, I love you !' It was the first time since he had been back at the Lodge that Jack had called her by that name.

To Jess it was like a dreamy fulfilment of that impossible dream of hers, that the hero of her imagination, the man she loved dearly and de votedly in the recesses of her inmost soul, accusing herself all the while of ingratitude and treachery for daring to entertain a single feeling towards him that was not of the humblest and most re spectful — that this man should take her into his arms and, in language too fervent and real to be doubted, ask her if she had, or could have, any love for him in a heart that was all his.

Chapter III

The Lodge which Jack occupied was a fantastic two-storeyed house standing on the slope of the hill overlooking Tofthills. T/te Lodge was not a fanciful name. The building, as seen from the front, was a variation on a model according to which five other buildings had been constructed at the outward termination of the five great avenues that connected Insch-Leith Castle with the world at large. It would involve too much of a digression to enter into the reasons that induced Mr Insch. Leith to hit upon the ambitious and costly scheme of rendering his picturesquely, but inconveniently situated residence accessible from every quarter of the country. The popular explanation was, that being disappointed of a son and heartily abhorring his successor, according to the terms of the entail, he had indulged a mania for road-cutting and tree-planting as the readiest method of spending WARPED. 24 his money and immortalising his memory.

With marvellous energy and a supreme contempt for the proverbial uncertainty and shortness of life, he had successfully carried out the greater portion of his scheme and was engaged in completing it, when death overtook him at the age of ninety-five. Hence the anomaly of a lodge, flanked by huge iron gates leading into a drive that stopped abruptly within a hundred yards of its beginning. Deprived of its original purpose, the Lodge became a source of serious perplexity to the factor of the estate. It was too well-built to be left un tenanted, too elaborate for a cottage, and too ill adapted for a farm-house. As the new laird was neither a sportsman nor a lover of Scotland, he ordered his factor to let Insch-Leith with its shooting, and it was then that the factor had conceived the happy notion of appointing certain rights of fishing to the Lodge, and of letting the same out, under the charge of the gamekeeper Macpherson and his wife, to a man of sporting instincts and small means of gratifying them.