The ladies came back from Rose Hill, just before supper, accompanied by Mr. Richard Maynadier and Mr. Bordley, who had stopped the night with him.  
It was to the calm and peaceful Hedgely Hall of yesterday, that they returned, not the one of turmoil and stress, which they had left that morning. There were no traces of a struggle around the place; the grounds were as usual, the house as usual, the servants as usual. The only evidence that remained, were the scars on the rear door, and even those had been almost obliterated.
 
"It is all a fairy tale!" laughed Richard Maynadier, "this wonderful story of pirates, and ransom, and their chief being in manners a gentleman, bowing and scraping as though he were doing the minuet. I do not believe a word of it."
 
"No one asked you to believe it!" retorted Miss Marbury, with a toss of her head, "and, what is more, no one cares whether you do or whether you do not."
 
"You said that as if you meant it," said Maynadier with an amused smile, "and you said it very prettily, Judith,—but can you assume to answer for all your party?"
 
[Pg 179]
 
"You know perfectly well that 'no one' is equivalent to I," she answered, with another toss.
 
"Then I is equivalent to no one, and no one comprehends any one, and any one comprehends every one, and every one——"
 
"Dick!" she cried: "Stop it! stop it!"
 
"Stop what?"
 
"Winding yourself into a ball."
 
"I thought I was deducing a fact."
 
"Well, stop it! Besides, I do not care for the fact—and neither do I care for you, sir."
 
"Is that a fact?" he asked.
 
"It is," she answered. "Very much a fact."
 
"Are you sure—quite sure?"
 
She shrugged her shoulders.
 
"Because, if you are——"
 
"Yes?" she inflected.
 
"I will be obliged to——"
 
"You will be obliged to what?"
 
"To modify my opinion of——"
 
"Your opinion does not concern me," she said indifferently.
 
"So, I assumed; but, nevertheless, I modify it in regard to the pirates. I accept everything you tell, absolutely—the pirate chief and all his mannerisms, included.—Now, do you care for me?"
 
"You are sincere—you believe it, every word?"
 
"Every word," he averred.
 
"Well, in that event, I may care for you to-morrow."
 
[Pg 180]
 
"And to-day—this evening?"
 
She shook her head. "No—you must pay penalty for a little while. I am going to give this evening to Sir Edward Parkington," she said, as he swung her out of the saddle, and added: "He, I know, cares." Then ran hurriedly up the steps, and into the house.
 
Richard Maynadier hastily turned the horses over to a groom, and made to follow her, reconsidered, and went on to the library.
 
This was a new twist in her character, savoring more of the spoiled beauty, than of the equal-tempered Judith he had known. And he was not so sure that he did not like it. She had the beauty to justify it, the poise to make it alluring—and the wealth to make it permissible, even if she had neither of the other two.
 
"I might almost, if I were a younger man," he reflected, "think she was trying to make a fool of me, or else was in love with me. But, as I can not think either, she must just be trying her hand on the old friend, who will not misunderstand. Sir Edward Parkington!—'he, I know, cares!' Well, my lady, do not presume with him too far. He is one, I fancy, who is apt to take whatever comes his way."
 
At supper, Parkington was placed at her right and Herford on the left, and he observed that the former exerted his privilege, and monopolized the conversation. Herford, several times, tried to[Pg 181] break in, but was always man?uvred out of it; and, presently, with a somewhat bad grace, he gave over, and, thereafter, Parkington had it all his own way.
 
And Judith seemed to encourage him, at least, she did nothing to discourage; she was blindly oblivious to Herford's efforts, gave him no assistance, and welcomed Sir Edward back into the talk with almost flattering eagerness. Whereat, Maynadier was puzzled, and a trifle surprised. Here, also, was a new twist in her character.
 
A little later, when he was strolling alone down the avenue, he was joined by Herford, who, after a few minutes' talk, said bluntly:
 
"Maynadier, am I right in supposing you have no particular interest in Sir Edward Parkington?"
 
"What do you intend by 'particular interest'?" asked Maynadier.
 
"Friendship—friendship as distinguished from acquaintanceship."
 
"If you mean, am I an acquaintance rather than a friend of Sir Edward Parkington, I should say, yes."
 
"Then you have no objection, if I speak plainly?"
 
"None whatever," said Maynadier. "I am not his sponsor, and neither am I responsible for what you say."
 
Herford nodded. "Did it ever strike you that there is something queer about him?" he asked.
 
[Pg 182]
 
"No, it did not. On the contrary, I think that he is possessed of faculties far above the ordinary."
 
"I expressed myself poorly," said Herford. "I meant that he is not what he seems."
 
Maynadier was silent.
 
"There is something about him which raises a doubt," Herford went on.
 
"A doubt as to his personality, or a doubt as to his good repute?" asked Maynadier.
 
"As to the latter," was the sneering reply, "he is a friend of Baltimore—which is sufficient to put him under a standing suspicion. As to his personality, I do not mean that he is not Sir Edward Parkington—his letters were entirely regular—but that he is playing a part. He does not ring true. I cannot tell just what it is, Maynadier, but it is. How does he impress you?"
 
"No! no! Herford," said Maynadier. "I did not engage to swap confidences with you, concerning Sir Edward Parkington. All I said was that you might speak plainly concerning him, if you so wished."
 
"I do not ask for your confidence," said Herford. "I recognize that you are of the Council, and may know matters which are not for us——"
 
"The Council has no information whatever, concerning Sir Edward," Maynadier interrupted.
 
"Which goes to show that he is not an agent of the government."
 
[Pg 183]
 
("Which goes to show nothing of the sort," thought Maynadier.)
 
"And that he is here solely on his own account. As I said, I do not know what makes me suspicious, but I am. Did you notice him with Miss Marbury—ever since we came here, it has been going on—but especially to-night. He has fascinated her."
 
"Oh! I think not," said Maynadier. "She is the gracious hostess to her guest, who happens to be a man of prominence—nothing more. And, even if he has fascinated her, how does it concern either of us? She has a father and a brother, who are amply able to care for her. Furthermore, as to your proposition, it proves nothing, except that he is much above the average in attractiveness."
 
"But you could warn them."
 
"Warn them of what?" said Maynadier, smiling.
 
"Of the danger."
 
"The danger of what?"
 
"Of her showing him so much encouragement."
 
"And be laughed at for my pains—or shown the door."
 
"Your intimacy with the Marburys will permit it."
 
"Intimacy never warrants presumption."
 
"Friendship does."
 
"Besides I do not agree with you."
 
"You are blind!" declared Herford, "as blind as the Governor, himself."
 
"And how is his Excellency afflicted?"
 
[Pg 184]
 
"In blindness, as to his niece. The fellow is there all the time—morning, afternoon and night."
 
"And you would change places with him!" said Maynadier, with a laugh.
 
"I would," Herford answered, promptly, (and Maynadier liked him for it) "but that is not my reason. Were he one whom we knew—one of the men of Maryland—Miss Stirling might favor him, and I have no fault to find. But this is different. An Englishman, with a title, and unsavory antecedents will bear the closest watching."
 
"Give yourself no concern, Herford," said Maynadier. "If ever there was a girl capable of taking care of herself, and, at the same time, getting the most out of life and its opportunities, it is Miss Stirling. There is no chance of her head being turned by Sir Edward Parkington's attentions. She knows his world and his likes, and will give to his conduct the value it deserves."
 
"I wish I could think so," said Herford.
 
"Look here, Captain! I do not usually meddle in affairs which do not concern me, but your trouble is jealousy—plain jealousy. It is all you have against Sir Edward. He happens to be fascinating, and good looking, and an English Baronet—and, of course, Miss Stirling is pleased, (and so is Miss Marbury, though she is only an incident, with you) and is apt to monopolize all the attentions he will give her—as any other girl would do. He will not be here very long, and you will have[Pg 185] your chance after he leaves. I do not imagine, for a moment, that Miss Stirling is really interested, any more than she is interested in you, or Paca, or Constable, or a dozen others. They would all marry her, too, if they could; but they are not imagining all sorts of things about Parkington just because he has the call, for the present, with Miss Stirling. No, no! Herford; you are jealous—and there lies the whole trouble. Get rid of it, man, get rid of it!"
 
He raised his tones a trifle at the close.
 
"Get rid of what, Dick?" called Miss Marbury's voice behind them. She was with Sir Edward Parkington, and had approached unnoticed.
 
"Ah! listening were you?" said Maynadier.
 
"Listening, indeed! You disturbed us with your noise—you fairly dinned it in our ears."
 
"And just enough to make you wish for more! Oh, no, Miss Inquisitive, we will keep the secret to ourselves."
 
"Then, it is a secret?"
 
"A great secret—oh, very great!" said Maynadier, with assumed gravity. "Herford has the doldrums."
 
"And you were walking him up and down the avenue to help him get rid of them?" she mocked. "Oh, kind Mr. Maynadier! I fear, Captain Herford is weary of our hospitality."
 
"Your fears are groundless, mademoiselle," said[Pg 186] Herford, with a bow; "the doldrums fled at the sound of your voice."
 
"Then, you know how to banish them in future," she replied.
 
"I would not impose——"
 
"It is the hostess' duty to serve to her guests—and her pleasure as well, sir."
 
"And may I—now——" extending his arm.
 
"The doldrums fled at the sound of my voice, I thought you said?"
 
"But they may return—whereas, to effect a permanent cure, Miss Marbury, I would prescribe a walk in the moonlight.—Sir Edward will excuse you, I know."
 
She turned to Parkington. It was as well to leave him, now—she had done enough, for one evening.
 
"It shall be as mademoiselle wishes," said he.
 
She laid her hand on Herford's arm.
 
"For a little while, then, Captain Herford, you may try the cure!" she laughed, and they moved away.
 
"I wonder whether she was tired of me, or whether she thought you were tired of the Captain?" said Parkington.
 
"A little of both, doubtless!" replied Maynadier—and when Sir Edward looked at him quizzi............