The Rosary [0]
The Rosary
by Florence L. Barclay
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I ENTER--THE DUCHESS
II INTRODUCES THE HONOURABLE JANE
III THE SURPRISE PACKET
IV JANE VOLUNTEERS
V CONFIDENCES
VI THE VEIL IS LIFTED
VII GARTH FINDS HIS ROSARY
VIII ADDED PEARLS
IX LADY INGLEBY'S HOUSE PARTY
X THE REVELATION
XI GARTH FINDS THE CROSS
XII THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION
XIII THE ANSWER OF THE SPHINX
XIV IN DERYCK'S SAFE CONTROL
XV THE CONSULTATION
XVI THE DOCTOR FINDS A WAY
XVII ENTER--NURSE ROSEMARY
XVIII THE NAPOLEON OF THE MOORS
XIX THE VOICE IN THE DARKNESS.
XX JANE REPORTS PROGRESS
XXI HARD ON THE SECRETARY
XXII DR. ROB TO THE RESCUE
XXIII THE ONLY WAY
XXIV THE MAN'S POINT OF VIEW
XXV THE DOCTOR's DIAGNOSIS
XXVI HEARTS MEET IN SIGHTLESS LAND
XXVII THE EYES GARTH TRUSTED
XXVIII IN THE STUDIO
XXIX JANE LOOKS INTO LOVES MIRROR
XXX "THE LADY PORTRAYED"
XXXI IN LIGHTER VEIN
XXXII AN INTERLUDE
XXXIII "SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!"
XXXIV "LOVE NEVER FAILETH"
XXXV NURSE ROSEMARY HAS HER REWARD
XXXVI THE REVELATION OF THE ROSARY
XXXVII "IN THE FACE OF THIS CONGREGATION"
XXXVIII PERPETUAL LIGHT
THE ROSARY
CHAPTER I
ENTER THE DUCHESS.
The peaceful stillness of an English summer afternoon brooded over the park and gardens at Overdene. A hush of moving sunlight and lengthening shadows lay upon the lawn, and a promise of refreshing coolness made the shade of the great cedar tree a place to be desired.
The old stone house, solid, substantial, and unadorned, suggested unlimited spaciousness and comfort within; and was redeemed from positive ugliness without, by the fine ivy, magnolia trees, and wistaria, of many years' growth, climbing its plain face, and now covering it with a mantle of soft green, large white blooms, and a cascade of purple blossom.
A terrace ran the full length of the house, bounded at one end by a large conservatory, at the other by an aviary. Wide stone steps, at intervals, led down from the terrace on to the soft springy turf of the lawn. Beyond--the wide park; clumps of old trees, haunted by shy brown deer; and, through the trees, fitful gleams of the river, a narrow silver ribbon, winding gracefully in and out between long grass, buttercups, and cow-daisies.
The sun-dial pointed to four o'clock.
The birds were having their hour of silence. Not a trill sounded from among the softly moving leaves, not a chirp, not a twitter. The stillness seemed almost oppressive. The one brilliant spot of colour in the landscape was a large scarlet macaw, asleep on his stand under the cedar.
At last came the sound of an opening door. A quaint old figure stepped out on to the terrace, walked its entire length to the night, and disappeared into the rose-garden. The Duchess of Meldrum had gone to cut her roses.
She wore an ancient straw hat, of the early-Victorian shape known as "mushroom," tied with black ribbons beneath her portly chin; a loose brown holland coat; a very short tweed skirt, and Engadine "gouties." She had on some very old gauntlet gloves, and carried a wooden basket and a huge pair of scissors.
A wag had once remarked that if you met her Grace of Meldrum returning from gardening or feeding her poultry, and were in a charitable frame of mind, you would very likely give her sixpence. But, after you had thus drawn her attention to yourself and she looked at you, Sir Walter Raleigh's cloak would not be in it! Your one possible course would be to collapse into the mud, and let the ducal "gouties" trample on you. This the duchess would do with gusto; then accept your apologies with good nature; and keep your sixpence, to show when she told the story.
The duchess lived alone; that is to say, she had no desire for the perpetual companionship of any of her own kith and kin, nor for the constant smiles and flattery of a paid companion. Her