



Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by
Google Books (University of California)











Transcriber's Notes:

   1. Page scan source:
      http://books.google.com/books?id=RWkpAQAAIAAJ
      (University of California)

   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].






                              Marmaduke






                              Marmaduke



                                  By

                          Flora Annie Steel

                              Author of
          "On the Face of the Waters," "A Sovereign Remedy,"
                         "King-Errant," etc.




                               New York
                     Frederick A. Stokes Company
                              Publishers
                                 1917






                      _Printed in Great Britain_





                               BOOK I.




                              CHAPTER I


"Hello, Davie! Is that you, Davie Sim?" cried a joyous young voice;
then it changed suddenly, with a verve which showed pure delight in
the unfamiliar yet familiar dialect, from correct English to the
broadest Aberdeenshire accent. "Eh, mon, ye're joost the same ow'd tod
o' a pease-bogle wi' yer bonnet ajee, an' a crookit mou'; yen hauf
given tae psaulm singin' and tither tae pipe-blawing!" The voice
paused a bit breathlessly as if it had exhausted itself over the
unwonted exercise, then went on in slightly less aggressive Doric.
"Well, I'm blythe to see you lookin' sae weel. An' is that tall lass
Marrion?"

An easy gallantry came to his tones as the speaker, a fine young
fellow of obviously military bearing, turned to a girl who stood very
still by the window.

"By gad," the young man went on with the same easy condescension, "you
have grown into a pretty girl! Give us a kiss, my dear; you know you
used to be fond of 'Mr. Duke' in the----"

Then suddenly silence fell between the two young people. Something in
the tall still figure by the window seemed to abash the tall figure
making its way easily towards it, and left them looking at each other
critically.

They were as fine a couple physically as God ever made to come
together as man and woman. They were almost alike in stature and
strength--she slightly the smaller--and both seemed equal in abounding
health, though he was florid and she somewhat pale with the pallor of
the thick creamy skin that goes with red-bronze hair.

She spoke at last, the thin curves of her mouth clipping her words
sharply.

"There's mony to tell me yon and crave kisses since you an' me was
hafflins together, Mr. Duke," she said coolly. "I beg yer pardon,
Captain Marmaduke!"

The Honourable Captain Marmaduke Muir, second son of the sixteenth
Baron Drummuir of Drummuir, home on leave after an absence of ten
years on foreign service, looked at the grand-daughter of his father's
head piper and general majordomo as if considering anger. He was too
good looking to be accustomed to such rebuffs from pretty girls,
especially when they were manifestly beneath him in station. Then
suddenly he laughed. The years had fled, and he was a boy again in
fast fellowship with a small hoyden of a girl; a girl four years his
junior, but infinitely his superior in common sense; a girl who had
kept him out of many a scrape and who hadn't scrupled on occasion to
box his ears, young master though he was. With a sudden flash of
memory the occasion came back to him, and he saw himself, a strong lad
of fourteen, wading a swollen stream with the ten-year-old girlie on
his back, a string of handsome trouties he had been catching hanging
like a tail from his hands clasped behind his burden. He heard the
agonised cry in mid-stream, "They're slippin', Maister Duke, they're
slippin'! Let me down till I hoosen them up!" He heard the stiff
reply: "Let 'em slip; I'll no let ye down tae soak ye through!" And
then the woeful battle of wills that ensued, while the trouties
slipped from the string one by one. A battle which ended in a sobbing
girlie ankle deep in water, an empty string, and a defiant lad with
young crimson ears. He felt his mature ones tingle with amusement at
the recollection, and at the recognition that the girlie was as ready
of resentment as ever.

"Ods bobs, Marmie!" he cried, his face full of mischief. "It seems
you've no forgotten the whaur-aboots of my lugs," and his hands went
up to his face as if to protect them.

The girl crimsoned.

"I begged your pardon then, Captain Marmaduke, and I beg it again if
I've offended----" she began defiantly.

He interrupted her with an absolutely charming smile, a deference that
was unanswerable.

"And I beg yours for remembering what I should have forgotten. So we
are quits and can surely shake hands on it like the good friends we
always were, and"--here his voice took on additional charm--"always
will be. Of that I am sure."

His bold blue eyes were on hers frankly, and she gave him back his
look steadily. So they stood, shapely hand in shapely hand, for a
second. Then his left fingers caught at hers and felt the first one
inquisitively.

"Hullo, seamstress, that's new?" he queried, evidently pleased with
his own cleverness in detection.

Marrion Paul drew her hand away sharply.

"I've been at the dressmaking in Edinbro' these six years since
grandfather married," she replied coldly.

Marmaduke looked at Davie Sim incredulously.

"What, Davie! You old reprobate, who the deuce