Ruth Farmer. A story

Front matter

THE "GREENBACK SERIES" POPULAR 3/6 NOVELS Bv WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. (Crown Svo, Cloth.) Uniform with " Ruth Farmer." i. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 2. GEOFFREY STIRLING. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 5th Edition. 3. BONNIE KATE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 4. A NEW OTHELLO. By Hon. Iza Duffus Hardy. 2nd Ed. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somerville Gibnev. 3rd Edition. 6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major Norris Paul. 2nd Ed. 7. OLD LATTIMERS LEGACY. By J. S. Fletcher. 2nd Ed. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. 9. DUDLEY. By Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. 10. THE WILD RUTHVENS. By Curtis Yorke. 5th Edition. 11. THE BROWN PORTMANTEAU, and other Stories. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 12. HUSH ! By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 13. ONCE! By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 14. A ROMANCE OF MODERN LONDON.

By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. IS. HIS HEART TO WIN. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 16. DARRELL CHEVASNEY. By Curtis Yorke. 17. BETWEEN THE SILENCES. By Curtis Yorke. 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 3rd Ed. 19. THE GOLDEN MILESTONE. By Scott Graham. 3rd Ed. 20. A RECORD OF DISCORDS. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 21. "CHERRY RIPE!" By Helen Mathers. 8th Edition. 22. STORY OF A SIN. By Helen Mathers. 5th Edition. 23. EYRE'S ACQUITTAL. (Sequel.) By Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 24. JOCK O' HAZELGREEN. By Helen Mathers. 4th Ed. 25. MY LADY GREEN SLEEVES. By Helen Mathers. 6th Ed. 26. FOUND OUT. By Helen Mathers. 103rd Thousand. 27. THE MEDLICOTTS. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 28. THE HEART OF A MYSTERY. By T. W. Speight. 29. MAN PROPOSES. By Mrs. A. Phillips. 2nd Edition. 30. THE LAST OF THE HADDONS.

By Mrs. E. Newman. Shortly. 31. ALLANSON'S LITTLE WOMAN. By Eastwood Kidson. Shortly. 32. LINDSAY'S GIRL. By Mrs. Herbert Martin. 33. WRONGLY CONDEMNED. By Mrs. Bagot Harte, Author of " Bianca," &c. 34. THE THIRTEENTH BRYDAIN. By Margaret Moule,-v *• Author of "Wingrove's Ways," "Dick's Wife," "Miss j Maidment," &c. I k 35. THROUGH ANOTHER MAN'S EYES. By Eleanor 1 * Holmes. I g 36. MRS. WYLDE. By Linda Gardiner. J £ 37. A PRINCE OF COMO. By E. M. Davy. 2nd Edition. 38. RUTH FARMER. By Agnes Marchbank. [Thousand. 39. THE LOVELY MALINCOURT. By Helen Mathers. Sixth 40. A GARRISON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams, -xrd Ed 41. HARUM SCARUM. By Esme Stuart. 42. A BOLT FROM THE BLUE. By Scott Graham. Shorth 43. THE MAN IN THE CHECK SUIT. By F. W. H. Delf. [.Shortly. OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON: IARROLD &> SONS, 10 and At, Warwick Lane, E.C. A STORY BY AGNES MARCHBANK Author of "Some Edinburgh Bohemians," Family Ties" etc., etc.

Chapter I

•A WILFUL WOMAN. •'An' if she will, she will, Ye may depend on't ; An' if she won't, she won't, An' there's an end on't." "Wilful? Why, she is the most wilful woman on the face of the earth. It was perfect folly of me ever to dream of a visit here bringing her to reason," said Mrs. Sutherland, angrily. The speaker was a little dark woman with a quick, impatient manner, and as she stood on one side of the hearth and looked over to the old, bent man sitting on the chair, her face took harder lines. "Do you know, Alice, I think there is a little improvement," replied the old man, who had a grey moustache and keen dark eyes. "Improvement?" repeated Mrs. Sutherland, with a scornful laugh. "Why, to-day Amy is more reckless than ever. She was provokingly merry when they drove off, and I know, from thelaugh she gave and Roy's grave face, that new mischief is brewing.

Roy is not a man that likes to see his wife smoke cigarettes, or can take calmly the many follies Amy has been guilty of. He likes a womanly woman. She'll drive him mad some day." " Oh, nothing so bad as that," testily said Captain Stewart, for that was the name of the old man. " Oh, of course, I know you'll excuse Amy. You see no fault in her," said Mrs. Sutherland, crossly. " I am not so blind as you think," returned the Captain, quickly. "All blonde women have tempers. I told Roy that when he told me Amy and he were engaged, and I said a doll-like creature would have suited him better. Roy has a temper, too, Alice. That's where the mischief is. But time will bring them into union." "Oh, time does not change people's nature against their own will. Roy may be driven to find pleasure elsewhere, and wreck his life, name, and happiness.

Amy is a fool — and I told her so." "You are a trifle hard on her, Alice," said the old man slowly, as he leaned forward and looked keenly up in Mrs. Sutherland's face. " I'm hard on her follies," returned Mrs. Sutherland, as she walked to the bow window, and looked out to the sweet waters of Gareloch, that were bathed in the afternoon sunshine. But the little dark woman's eyes saw neither loch nor sunshine, nor the fishing-boat, nor the slow-moving steamer that had newly left Rose neath Pier. "What does Amy want?" she asked, passionately, coming back to where she had stood before. "Two penniless girls — we've both married well — Amy especially. She has got money, position, and a handsome husband. And yet she is not content. She's mad. I tell you Roy hates to know that his wife smokes and drinks whisky and water, and snaps her fingers in Mrs. Grundy's face.

She's mad ; and she won't listen to reason. I asked you here to meet her, and you know with what result. Yet — you are the only father we ever knew. / have spoken to her, and she laughs in my face. I asked Dr. Gemmel and his family here, because they are so very sensible and nice. Mrs. Vance and her husband are nice too. But Amy is wilder than ever. I dread really what she may do next^women do such queer things nowadays." " I doubt Amy won't be influenced by the Gemmel family, nor even by Mrs. Vance. As for the other people who have been here, they are too conven tional." "That's why I asked them. I wished Amy to make friends with sensible people. Why, it's five o'clock," she said, suddenly, looking at her watch. " We'll have them all here for tea presently. I suppose you'll take a cup of tea here, Captain ?

You seem to have taken up your abode in this gloomy library." " I think it is the cosiest room in the house, and there is a fine view over the loch. If anything could reconcile me to being out of my own house, it would be that view." " It is charming," replied Mrs. Sutherland, indiffer ently. She was not a woman who saw much to admire in Nature, and views were all very much alike to her. But she certainly liked to see something from a window, and the sight of the steamers coming and going on the loch, had induced her to take Hayfield for two months. When Mrs. Sutherland had gone out of the room, Captain Stewart sat still and looked in the fire that leaped and blazed, and seemed to hold hidden pictures that rose one after another before him. He thought of the two girls he had brought up— girls so unlike in every way; Alice so commonplace and practical, and Amy so full of beauty and mischief.

She was dear to him — even now when she was recklessly rushing on to her ruin. The very love he bore her made him bitterly feel the early old age that had come to him with the weary days in the trenches at the Crimea — helpless, almost, when he ought to have been strong and hale ; bent and grey, when other men were at their prime. How could he expect Amy to listen to him, when his life had been lived before she was born? What influence could an old, grey-headed man, have on a young, wayward woman? The very knowledge of his own helplessness made him now, as it had made him often in the solitude of his own home, bitter and unsatisfied. When the September day was fading, and the fire sent strange lights and shadows into the gloomy library, the woman he was thinking of came into the room. " Well, of all the old hermits, you take the prize," she said gaily.

The Captain looked up, and his eyes fell on as fair a picture as he had ever seen. The new-comer was tall, and possessed of that nameless charm and grace that is born with some women. Her fluffy fair hair was coiled and twisted, and little rings blown by the September wind, fell on brow and cheek. Her features were perfect, and her grey eyes looked full of fun from below the straight dark eyebrows. "Have they given you any tea?" she said, as she knelt on the rug and laid down a white poodle that she held in her arms. "John brought me some tea." "And now you'll be going to dress for dinner. Look," she said, as she caught up the dog, "Flossy is already got up in his war paint — gold bangles, and a gold collar with a diamond star. Won't Roy be mad when he sees him? He does hate Master Flossy."

The woman in the dark-red gown laughed merrily, as she looked at the old Captain. " Then you put gold bangles on the dog's paws, and a gold collar on his neck, in order to provoke Roy?" said Captain Stewart, dryly. " Not exactly. I cannot help Roy's temper, can I?" " I think you can, Amy." " So Alice has been complaining about me again, has she?" asked the fair-haired woman, with a little scorn in her voice. " She has just cause." " I suppose I ought to plead ' Guilty.' I am utterly given up by my nearest relations. I'm a very improper female — not a respectable person at all." ' It's your own fault if you are. I don't think you ought to glory in causing us pain." " I cause no one pain," she said. " There isn't any body in all the world cares enough for me." " Roy cares. "Does he?" the woman asked suddenly with a laugh, as she rose up and sat in a low basket chair on the other side of the hearth.

" Roy cares for nothing on earth but himself. The centre of the universe is Roy's own self. He judges all mankind by Roy Paterson, and he considers every one ought to make way for him. It is not a healthy state of mind, and I don't mean to encourage it. It is my duty to correct all such faults. I have him under training, and I'll twist and twine him till he sees that the world consists of more than one man." " You'll regret doing that," said the Captain, angrily, "and you'll drive Alice mad." Mrs. Paterson answered with a merry laugh, " Alice mad ? " she said, and laughed again. " There is no power on earth can move Alice out of her groove. Alice cares for me because I am her sister, and because Mrs. Grundy may blame her if I am not all I ought to be. Alice worships Mrs. Grundy. She goes to church because of Mrs. Grundy, and she does everything that's right and proper because of Mrs. Grundy.

Mrs. Grundy rules her conduct and takes care of her conscience. The fear of Mrs. Grundy is ever before her eyes. I don't know that people should speak disrespectfully of Mrs. Grundy when they see what influence she has over some people in the world. Mrs. Grundy is a living power— a worker in a good cause." "You ought to speak more respectfully of Alice, Amy," corrected the Captain. " It's perfectly true," said Mrs. Paterson. " Is it not true, dear?" she said, as she caught up the little white poodle and began caressing it. The Captain looked angrily at her. " I hate that beast," he said fiercely ; " put it down, Amy." «No— not even to please you," she said, wilfully. ' I wonder why the poor darling is hated by everybody ? " " Because you spoil it." "Nonsense! A woman must have something to pet ; if she has no children, why, it must be a bird, or a cat, or a dog."

" I thought once that you would turn out a clever woman, Amy. I am sorry to find you turn out a silly one, and a fool to boot." As Captain Stewart spoke he tapped the lid of his silver snuff-box impatiently. " Why, there is Alice," he said, as he looked at Mrs. Paterson. " Look how well she and her husband get on together." " My dear, Aleck is a hen-pecked man, and no woman could make Roy that," Mrs. Paterson answered slowly. Her face looked flushed in the light of the bright fire. " Aleck is a good fellow ; but he is ruled altogether by his wife. If he were married half a dozen times, each wife, in her turn, would rule him either for good or evil." "Amy, is there no one on earth whom you honour and respect?" asked the Captain, and without waiting for an answer he went on — " You have beauty such as few women have.

You are clever, too — in a way. You have qualities that would be more useful in a young man than a young woman. You have been married five years, and have not got — what is the one thing you lack ? — wisdom. I really do not know what is to bring you to your senses." Mrs. Paterson, leaning back in the basket chair with the red glow on her face, never spoke, but kept her eyes on the fire. "When you were a child," the old man went on, "you were so like your father that my heart was drawn to you. He and I had lain together in the trenches, we had fought together, and he had fallen at my side. In childhood you were always attractive, bright, and winsome. When you were older, Roy Paterson saw you and loved you. He spoiled you. He wrote poetry about you, and called your hair a ' crown of sunshine,' and your eyes ' stars of the night.' " " He doesn't do much in that way now," said Mrs. Paterson.

" Still, his love is not altogether dead." "It vvas dead long ago," she returned quickly, in angry tones. " Roy Paterson's love for me . is gone — dead. It was a will-o'-the-wisp, an airy nothing ; something without foundation, like a castle in the air." "You have yourself to blame if his love is gone. He would have been a fool if he could have endured calmly such a life as you have given him. Do you think any man likes to see his wife act as you act? Roy isn't a fool." "Fools are sometimes very nice people to live with," Mrs. Paterson replied, still provokingly calm. " A fool would have given me my own way, and I cannot be happy without it." "Alice is happy, and other women are happy." "Oh, Alice is quite a model. But we can't all be that; we're not all gifted that way," Mrs. Paterson said, mockingly, as she rose with her white poodle in her arms.

"There goes the dressing bell. We are to have company to-night— several clergymen and their wives, so I'd better be Ai." " Try," advised Captain Stewart. "Out of the question. I feel the evil spirit rising in me. I must fight with something," said the woman. " Amy ! " " Oh, you know nothing whatever about it," she continued, quickly. "You don't know what it is to have the feeling of a bird in a cage — to have a wild, untamed nature in you — to long and long to be out of a prison — to hate your surroundings so much that death itself holds no terrors for you. What on earth was' I born a woman for ? I haven't a woman's nature," she ended, excitedly. " If you thought more of your duties and less of your wishes, it would be better for you." " I ought to have no wishes, no desires, no aims of my own.

A wife is an echo ; or shall I say a bear, dragged about in chains to dance to her husband's music. I won't be dragged about. I'll live my own life," she said haughtily, as she walked away and left the Captain to his musings. Captain Stewart had been fond of looking in the fire when he was a lonely little boy, and people had whispered that he was a grandson of the " First Gentleman " — a whisper that seemed disgrace to the sensitive lad. He had liked to look in the fire when the troubles of manhood came on him. Now he looked in the fire when trouble seemed near him in his uncheered and lonely old age. 1;

Chapter II. An Alarm

"Oh, hear ye nae frae mid the loch Arise a deadly grane ? Sae even does the spirit warn Whan we some death maun mane." Captain Stewart's dressing always took up some time, and only patient John knew what trouble it was to get the old Captain into what John called his "dinner toggery." The fine soldier-like bearing that had distinguished the Captain in early youth was gone. Trenches had bent his back and spoiled his figure ; yet for all that there was some pride in the man. He liked to be the old beau. If he did not go into society, he had not lost all knowledge of what was expected of a man who had lived in the days of the dandies, when dressing was an art. John was the most patient of servants, else he would have rebelled when the Captain treated him to a pile of names that showed but little respect for him as a man, and would have made most servants quit service at once; but John was a silent man — used to his master's ways and his master's weaknesses, and he guessed pretty clearly the why and wherefore of the old Captain's temper when he was being dressed for Mrs. Sutherland's dinner party.

John knew also what the Captain did not know that hot words had passed between Roy Paterson and his wife on the way to and from Garelochhead, and that Smith the coachman had a bet with Brown the groom that there would be law in a month, and when John had helped his master to a low chair in the drawing-room and come away, he heard from Mrs. Paterson's maid that there had been a "scene," and that her mistress had locked herself in her room and would not go down to dinner. Then John went off softly, and folded up everything he could find to fold in his master's room, and sat down several times and whistled very, very softly and slowly the " Old Hundred," and then shook his head at the end, and then went on folding and tidying up. Yet, he was not thinking of the names his master had called him, nor had John any intention of quitting his master's service.

Mrs. Sutherland was a woman who had room for only one idea in her head at a time. So now her mind was altogether taken up with her cook's abilities and the possible success of her dinner party. She was angry with her sister, and had herself gone and knocked at her door and got a curt dismissal. So she knew there was nothing for it but to do without Mrs. Paterson, and make the best possible excuse of a headache. The old Captain missed Amy ; and while he waited and watched for her, he was glad to listen to Mrs. Vance's small-talk, which went to prove that, as her grandmother was born in Greenock, therefore she, Mrs. Vance, had Highland blood in her veins. Captain Stewart was in no mood to debate science or history or politics. He was glad that Abraham Vance was at the other end of the room, for he always wanted an opinion ; and " What's your idea now ?

" sounded best when it was ten yards away and a crowd between. The clergymen grouped together as if they had not met for years, and their wives were taken possession of by the Misses Gemmel. Some couples wandered at their own sweet will, and a dark-eyed, gloomy man leaned near the bow-window that looked to the sea. The Captain saw that gloomy-faced man, and viewed him thoughtfully; while, like a refrain, came the chirping, bird-like voice of Mrs. Vance "Not but that my country has got scenery too. But you have to look for it. While here, why, the blue hills, and lochs, and seas, and ruined castles and mossy moors, and heath-clad rocks are at your very door. For, to an American, John o' Groat's is a step to London." " Exactly," said the Captain, as he looked at the dark man pulling at his beard like an ancient Hebrew.

Well the Captain knew the sign that told of Roy's unquiet spirit. There he stood in the shadow of the bow-window, where the light of the shaded lamps could not come to him, and looked away to the sea that was rising in the loch in sudden wrath. Did that angry waste of waters reflect the mood of the man ? Was he thinking of the words he had said but one half-hour ago — words — each of which had been like a knife and pierced to the woman's heart ? " Isn't Mr. Paterson interesting ? " asked a pretty Roseneath girl of her lover. " Rather grim," whispered the lover. " I wonder he ever got a woman to marry him. He might leave his temper in his dressing-room." " It's his wife. She does rouse him." "She's plucky, though. She handled the oars splendidly to-day. Why, the loch is grand to-night," he said as they moved to the corner window, and glanced out to the Gareloch.

" Look, we can see the lights of Helensburgh from here!" he said as his hand came near a trim waist Mrs. Paterson did not come down to dinner, nor did she come to the drawing-room afterwards. The Captain had taken possession of Roy Paterson to help him to and from the dining-room. " My back is very bad to-night," he said. " It is this confounded, damp half-island, with seas raging and winds roaring. I must go home, Roy. I really must go home." " I wish I could go with you. By the way, Captain, I have broken my promise to you." " I don't wonder at it," said the old man testily. " I lost my temper over that dog." " No wonder, no wonder. I'd choke it if I were in your place. Never mind her. She'll come down after dinner and sing ' Annie Laurie.' " But the evening wore on and no Amy came. Mrs. Sutherland went up to her sister's room to insist on her opening her door and explaining why her temper lasted so long.

She did not believe in Amy's headache. " Mrs. Paterson went out some time ago." said that lady's maid, very coolly. Mrs. Sutherland got as pink as the wrap she had thrown over her shoulders. "Where did she go?" inquired Mrs. Sutherland, quickly. " What did she mean by going out ? " "She got a cup of tea while you were at dinner and went out for a walk with Flossy ; perhaps to cure her headache," replied the maid, who was rather inclined to patronise the Sutherland household, as they were not a " county family." It was just then that M'Neill, the boatman, came up and asked to see Mrs. Sutherland. Somehow, when Mrs. Sutherland saw the man standing there on the front doorstep, she guessed what he had come for. She was not an unkind woman, and she loved her sister in her way. " What is it ? " she asked quickly.

Others listened for the answer — the news had spread, for Roy was behind her and others. " It's aboot a leddy that bides here — her that's sae keen on the boats, ye ken," said the man, deliberately. " What about her ? " asked Roy, sharply. " She surely has not been out to-night?" " Ay, was she. I heard tell that she was seen on the loch just aboot the gloamin'. Has she come hame ? " he asked. "No," said Mrs. Sutherland. " Why did she go out ? " asked Roy Paterson, sharply. " Was any one with her ? " " The laddie says ' no.' The laddie is oor Jim. He saw her and watched her, and he tellt me no abune half an 'oor sin'. Sae I gaed doon to where Maister Sutherland's sma' boat was tethered tae a ring on the wee rock, but there's neither sicht nor sign o' her." Mrs. Sutherland heard no more. She felt suddenly sick and fainted away, and Mrs. Vance, developing at once the practical side of her nature, had her friend carried off to her room, and ordered her husband to begin the search for Mrs. Paterson in a business-like fashion.

" Head them, my dear," she said, as she watched the group racing off pell-mell to the shore, of the loch. " Mrs. Paterson isn't such a fool as to throw her life away ; but one never knows," she ended, remembering several follies that Mrs. Paterson had committed in her lifetime. Some time after, when a doctor and Mrs. Paterson's maid were with Mrs. Sutherland, Mrs. Vance went to poor Captain Stewart, who wandered up and down the lonely drawing-room. " We have been in Mrs. Paterson's room, and broken open the door. She had taken the key with her. Everything is as she left it. I hoped to find her there," said the little American, excitedly. " She has left her jewels and everything — not anything touched. She meant to come back, the poor dear ! " " Certainly. Why shouldn't she ? Of course she'll come back.

Who says she won't ? " he asked angrily. " My dear, think of the storm. Listen to the sound of the mighty waters. One could fancy the Gareloch was mixing up a tempest to spread over the Atlantic. A boat on that loch ! The woman was mad to venture out on such a night." " It was not so bad as that till — till an hour ago." " You were not listening to it," she said, coolly, never heeding the poor, scared face of the old man as he looked and peered into the darkness and listened to the rush of the waves on the shore. Never, never had Hayfield seemed so near the sound of the waves. " I heard the storm rising while I was dressing for dinner, and I heard it get worse every minute ; and the old boatman says it is a nasty loch when it is dirty weather." " But — why did she go ? " the old man asked, pitifully.

" For excitement. She told me once," Mrs. Vance said confidentially, " that when her temper was up she felt that she could fly like a witch through the air on a broomstick, and that a score of devils seemed to possess her. She was a strange woman. I never could understand her. Had she lived hundreds of years ago she would have been burned for a witch. Women like her are never meant for fireside comfort You may as well put an eagle into your chicken coop and expect it to turn out a well-behaved hen." " Poor girl ! Poor Amy ! " said the old man, softly. "Yes, poor thing, it is very dreadful. And we hope God, who made her, will take her nature into consideration when — when — she goes before Him. I am a good Christian, but I like to give my fellow-creatures the benefit of a doubt ; and I hope our Maker won't be very hard on any of us.

So don't grieve ; we need not lose hope. When Abraham comes in he'll tell us." Then, after a pause, " There's her husband. He's wild, I can tell you. But he'll get over it Men don't die of grief, except in stories. I'd give Abraham six months if I went overboard to-morrow — and he's a good husband, too. But I'm tiring you." " I am a little tired," he said, as he sat down on a chair. " Shall I call for your servant ? " " Thank you. Yes — send for John." John was found, and the old man took his arm and went away leaning heavily on it. " John," he said, when he was in his room, " I am not going to bed ; I only wanted to be away from that woman." " Yes, sir," said John, standing bolt upright before his master. " I'll sit here. I'm useless. Go you and act for me. Help Mr. Paterson all you can, and when any news, good or bad comes, bring it to me."