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Page 20
Chiswick high-road, with its constantly widening and narrowing
perspectives, its jumble of old and modern houses, had never looked more
cheerful as Jack drove rapidly westward. He crossed Kew Bridge, rattled
on briskly, and finally entered Richmond, where he pulled up by the curb
opposite to the station where centre a number of suburban railway lines.
He had not long to wait--a glance at his watch told him that. Five
minutes later the rumble of an incoming train was heard, and presently
a double procession of passengers came up the steps to the street. Jack
had eyes for one only, a radiant vision of loveliness, as sweet and
fresh and blushing as a June rose. The vision was Madge Foster, her
graceful figure set off by a new spring gown from Regent street, and a
sailor hat perched on her golden curls. She stepped lightly into the
trap, and nestled down on the cushions.
"Oh, Jack, what _will_ you think of me after this," she cried, half
seriously.
"I think that the famed beauties of Hampton Court would turn green
in their frames with envy if they could see you now," Jack answered
evasively, as he flicked the horses with his whip. "Here we go for
a jolly day. It will come to an end all too soon."
CHAPTER VII.
LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.
The trap rattled up crooked George street, and swung around and down
to classic-looking Richmond Bridge, with its gorgeous vistas of river
scenery right and left over the low parapets. Madge was very quiet for
a time, and it was evident that she felt some misgivings as to the
propriety of what she had consented to do at Jack's urgent request. She
had left home soon after her father's departure for town, and she must
be back before six o'clock to meet him on his return. Her secret was
shared with the old servant, Mrs. Sedgwick, who was foolishly fond of
the girl, and naturally well-disposed toward Jack because he had saved
Madge's life. This faithful creature, on the death of her young husband
twenty years before, had entered Mrs. Foster's service; she practically
managed Stephen Foster's establishment, assisted by a housemaid and by
the daily visits of a charwoman.
Until Richmond was left behind, Jack was as serious and thoughtful
as his companion. He had a high sense of honor, a hatred of anything
underhanded, and his conscience pricked him a little. However, it was
not his fault, he told himself. Stephen Foster had no business to be
churlish and ungrateful, and treat his daughter as though she were a
school miss still in her teens. And what wrong could there be about the
day's outing together, if no harm was intended? It would all come right
in the end, unless, unless--
He felt reassured as he stole a glance at Madge's face, and saw her quick
blush. She laughed merrily, and nestled a little closer to his side.
"You are not sorry?" he asked.
"Sorry? Oh, no. It is so good of you, Jack, and the weather is
perfect--we could not have had a better day."
Their depression vanished like a summer cloud, as they rode through
Twickenham and Teddington, under the shade of the great trees, enjoying
the occasional views of the shining river, and the peeps into the walled
gardens of the fine old houses.
"It is all new to me," said Madge, with a sigh. "I used to go to Hampton
Court with father on Sundays, but that was long ago; he doesn't take me
anywhere now, except to the theatre once or twice a year."
"It is a shame," Jack replied indignantly, "when you enjoy things so
much."
"Oh, but I dearly love Strand-on-the-Green. I am very happy there."
"And you never long for a wider life?"
"Yes--sometimes. I want to go abroad and travel. It must be delightful
to see the places and countries one has read about, to roam in foreign
picture galleries."
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