Among the men present, there was one who appeared to pay more attention to the charming hostess, than did any of the other male visitors. He hovered about her constantly, sometimes bending down to whisper to her in a confidential way; and she was very gracious in her manner towards him.
I did not know him to speak to; but I knew that his name was Gilbert. He was a tail, good-looking man, about thirty-five years of age, with dark hair, and a long, drooping moustache-I had got light hair, and I did not wear a moustache.
I drank a cup of tea, and chatted with some people whom I knew; then, seeing that there was no chance that afternoon, of getting a quiet talk with Frances, I bade her good bye, and left her, for the first time, without as much as a kiss.
I called again next day, but she was out; however, I had an interview with Miss Martin, and while chatting with her, I made a few inquiries about Gilbert.
The governess, thinking I was merely asking for information in my capacity as Frances’ “old guardian,” told me without hesitation that they had made Mr. Gilbert’s acquaintance when at Eastbourne during the summer. She added, laughing: “I think he is in love with Mrs. Markham; he is constantly calling at the house, and he often sends her presents of flowers, and box tickets for theatres.”
“Do you think she is in love with him?” I inquired.
“I don’t know whether she is actually in love with him, or not; but she seems to be fond of his company. He is a very nice gentlemanly fellow, and he is very well-off. Mrs. Markham might do worse than marry him.”
Having got all the information I wanted out of Miss Martin; I bade her good bye, and went home to think over what I had heard.
I was not jealous; or even surprised at the news, as I had always felt certain that Frances would marry again; but I determined, at the first opportunity, to ask her to tell me exactly the state of her feelings towards Gilbert.
I did not get a chance of speaking to her on the subject for some days; as she was either out when I called, or else there were visitors in the room. However, one afternoon I managed to catch her alone, and I questioned her about Gilbert,
She seemed to be a little confused; but she told me that ever since she had been introduced to him at Eastbourne, he had paid court to her, and that latterly his attentions had become very marked.
“Do you love him? Don’t be afraid of telling me,” I said, kissing her. “I am your ‘old guardian,’ you know; and only wish for your happiness.”
“Well, Charley, I must confess that I am fond of Mr. Gilbert; and I think he wishes to marry me. If he proposes to me; I will accept him.”
Then she added: “I suppose yon are very much surprised?”
“No, I am not. I know that the man admires you, and he will probably soon ask you to be his wife. If you are sure you will be happy with him, I shall be quite satisfied co let you go.”
“But perhaps he never will ask me to marry him.”
“Then some one else will be sure to do so. A young, handsome, rich widow like you, will not be long without another offer,” I said, taking her on my knees, and putting my hands up her petticoats.
She made no objection, verbal or otherwise, so, with great delight, I laid her on the sofa, took down her dainty silk drawers, and gave her a poke. And she seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, judging by the way she bucked up and wriggled her bottom.
Time passed. I did not see much of Frances; but I often saw Miss Martin, and from her I learnt that Mrs. Markham was being ardently courted by Mr. Gilbert; so I daily expected to hear that she was engaged.
Another week went by, and then one morning, I received a note from her asking me to call at three o’clock. I went to the house at the appointed time, and found her looking rather flushed and excited, but very lovely. I thought that she had something important to tell me; and so she had, but at first she only talked about the most trivial things, and she looked so “fetching,” that I sac down beside her on the sofa and proceeded to feel her hidden charms. I squeezed her bottom, stroked her thighs, and played with the silky hair of the “spot”; then, as she only smiled, I attempted to place her in position for a poke. But she would not allow me to lay her on her back; she began to struggle, saying: “Don’t, Charley! Please don’t do that Let me go; I have something to tell you.”
I at once released her; then she sat up on the sofa and arranged her disordered petticoats, with a curious little smile on her face.
“Well, what have you got to tell me?” I asked, though I well knew what I should hear.
“Mi. Gilbert has asked me to marry him, and I have consented. I have grown to love him, and therefore I do not think I ought to let you embrace me any more. You know I have always been a faithful woman, both as a sweetheart, and as a wife. No man has ever touched me but you, and my late husband. And now I intend to be faithful to my future husband. You are not angry with me, I hope?”
“No, no,” I replied, kissing her in a fatherly manner, “I on not the least angry with you. I have no right to be. I know that you have always been true to me; and I think you are quite right to be true to the man who is going to marry you.”
She smiled, and pressed my hand. Then I asked: “When ire you going to be married?”
“In two months’ time. And I want you to do me a favour.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I want you to give me away. Everyone thinks you are my guardian.”
This was rather a startling request; but after a moment’s thought I decided to do as she wished, when the time came. As I had to give her up, I might as well give her away. So I said:
“Very well, Frances. I will give you away.”
“Oh, you dear old Charley!” she exclaimed, kissing me. “I am so happy now! I was afraid you would take the whole affair quite differently, and be cross and disagreeable. It would have made me very miserable if we had parted on bad terms. We always got on so well, when we lived together.”
“Except on the occasions when I spanked you,” I observed, smiling. “Oh, I didn’t mind the spankings much,” she said, laughing. “But I shall never forget that last birching you gave me.” Then she added in a tone of regret: “After I am married I shall never have a chance of using the rod, as Dora is to go to a boarding-school.”
“If you really wish to use the rod, you will manage to do so, somehow or other,” I observed smiling.
“Oh, I know what I shall do,” she said laughingly, but half in earnest. “I will get a nice little page boy about thirteen years old; and whenever he misbehaves I will birch him. I should like to take a boy of that age across my knees.”
“I doubt if a boy thirteen years old would let you flog him. He would most probably pull your hair down,” I said, laughing. Then I asked: “Has Miss Martin got another engagement?”
“Not yet. But I am going to look after her until she gets a really good situation. She is a dear woman, and I am very fond of her.”
Then looking at me slyly, she went on: “Do you know, Charley, that Miss Martin admires you very much? She thinks you are such a fine, handsome man. In fact, she once told me that she would like to be kissed on the lips by you,”