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diff --git a/38646-8.txt b/38646-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb1122f --- /dev/null +++ b/38646-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13128 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eldest Son, by Archibald Marshall + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Eldest Son + +Author: Archibald Marshall + +Release Date: January 23, 2012 [EBook #38646] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELDEST SON *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +THE ELDEST SON + + + +BY + +ARCHIBALD MARSHALL + +Author of "Exton Manor" + + + + +NEW YORK + +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + +1919 + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY + +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + +Published September, 1911 + + + + +To + +KATHLEEN + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I The Squire Is Infernally Worried + II A Question of Matrimony + III Exit Miss Bird + IV The Dower-House + V Lady George + VI Blaythorn Rectory + VII The Squire Puts His Foot Down + VIII The Squire Feels Trouble Coming + IX Dick Pays a Sunday Visit + X The Meet at Apthorpe Common + XI Dick Leaves Kencote and Makes a Discovery + XII The House Party + XIII The Hunt Ball + XIV A Shoot + XV The Guns and the Ladies + XVI The Money Question + XVII Sunday and Monday + XVIII Mrs. Clinton Chooses a Governess + XIX Mrs. Clinton In Jermyn Street + XX Aunt Laura Intervenes + XXI An Engagement + XXII Dick Comes Home + XXIII Humphrey Counts His Chickens + XXIV Virginia Goes to Kencote + XXV A Lawn Meet + XXVI What Miss Phipp Saw + XXVII The Run of the Season + XXVIII Property + XXIX Brothers + XXX Miss Bird Hears All About It + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SQUIRE IS INFERNALLY WORRIED + +"Nina," said the Squire, "I'm most infernally worried." He was sitting +in his wife's morning-room, in a low chair by the fire. In front of +him was a table set for tea for one--himself. There were buttered +toast and dry toast and preserves, a massive silver teapot, milk jug, +cream jug, and sugar basin, a breakfast cup of China tea, and two +boiled eggs, one of which he was attacking, sitting forward in his +chair with his legs bent. He had come in from hunting a few minutes +before, at about six o'clock, and it was his habit thus to consume +viands which most men of his age and bulk might have been afraid of, as +likely to spoil their dinner. But he was an active man, in spite of +his fifty-nine years and his tendency to put on flesh, and it would +have taken more than a tea that was almost a meal to reduce his +appetite for dinner at eight, after a day in the saddle and a lunch off +sandwiches and a flask of sherry. When his tea was over he would +indulge himself in half an hour's nap, with the _Times_ open at the +leader page on his knee, and go up to dress, feeling every inch of him +a sportsman and an English country gentleman. + +His tea was generally brought to him in his library. This evening a +footman had followed him into that room immediately upon his entering +the house, as usual, had unbuckled his spurs, pulled off his boots for +him, and put on in their place a pair of velvet slippers worked in +silk, which had been warming in front of the fire. Only when his coat +was wet or much splashed with mud did the Squire change that. He +considered smoking-jackets rather effeminate, and slippers, on ordinary +occasions, "sloppy." It was only in his dressing-room or on these +evenings after hunting that he wore them. Otherwise, if he had to +change his boots during the daytime he put on another pair. He was +particular on little points like this. All his rules were kept +precisely, by himself and those about him. + +This evening he had told the footman, and the butler who had followed +him into the room with the tray, that he would have his tea in Mrs. +Clinton's room, and he had marched across the hall with a firm and +decisive step, in his red coat and buckskin breeches, between which and +his hand-knitted heather-mixture socks showed a white expanse of +under-drawers round a muscular calf. + +Mrs. Clinton sat opposite to him in another low chair, at work on a +woollen waistcoat. He always wore waistcoats made by her, thick for +the winter, light for the summer, and she knitted his socks for him, of +which he required a large number, for he hated them to be darned. He +liked to see her working for him like this. He was a rich man, but a +woman ought to work with her hands for her husband, whether he was rich +or poor. It was her wifely duty, and incidentally it kept her out of +mischief. Mrs. Clinton, at the age of fifty-four, with her smooth +yellow-grey hair and her quiet and composed face, did not look as if +she would be up to serious mischief, even if this and other +restrictions were removed from her. She looked up when her husband +addressed her, and marked the furrow between his heavy eyebrows. Then +she looked down again at her work and waited for him to unbosom himself +further. + +"How old is Dick?" asked the Squire, leaning forward to put a spoonful +of yolk of egg into his mouth with one hand, while he shielded his grey +beard with the other. + +She knew then the subject upon which he had expressed himself as +infernally worried, for he was not accustomed to keep the first +stirrings of discontent to himself. + +"He was thirty-four last April," she said. + +"Thirty-four," he repeated. "Yes; and I was _twenty_-four when I +married you. That's early. I shouldn't advise any young man to marry +at that age, unless, perhaps, he was the only one to keep a name +going--as I was, of course--at least in my immediate family. But +thirty-four! It's really time Dick thought about it. He's the eldest +son. It's his duty. And as far as I can see he never gives the matter +a thought. Eh?" + +"As far as I can see he is not thinking about it," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"Well, if _I_ couldn't see _you_ couldn't see. I say it is time that +he did begin thinking about it. I'm getting on now--good for another +twenty years, I should hope, but I want to see the succession assured. +Walter is the only one of the boys that's married, and he's only got +two girls. Of course, he may have a son--they're coming pretty +quick--but I've never got over that doctoring business. I shouldn't +like the heir of Kencote to be brought up in a place like Melbury Park, +and I say so freely--to you." + +This was the echo of an old disturbance. The Squire's third son had +refused to take Orders, with a view of occupying the family living, but +had studied medicine, and was now practising in a suburb of London, and +not one of the most genteel suburbs either. That furrow always +appeared faintly in the Squire's brow when he was forced to mention the +distasteful words Melbury Park. + +"I think it would be a good thing if Dick were to marry," said Mrs. +Clinton. + +"Good thing? Of course it would be a good thing. That's just what I'm +saying. There's Humphrey; he doesn't look much like marrying, either. +In fact, if he doesn't pick up a wife with a pot of money, I'd rather +he didn't. He spends quite enough as it is. I've no opinion of that +London life, except for a bit when a man's young and before he settles +down. Dick has been in the Guards now for--what?--twelve years. I +never meant that he should take up soldiering as a profession. Just a +few years spent with a good regiment--as I had myself, in the +Blues--that's all right for a young fellow who has a good property to +succeed to. But an eldest son ought to settle down, _on_ the property, +and get married, and have sons to succeed _him_." + +"Dick comes here a good deal," said Mrs. Clinton, "and he takes an +interest in the property." + +"Well, I should hope he did," responded the Squire. "The property will +belong to him when my time's over. What do you mean?" + +"I only mean that Dick is not wrapped up in London life and all that +goes with it, as Humphrey seems to be." + +"Oh, Humphrey! I've no patience with Humphrey. If Kencote isn't good +enough for him let him stay away. Only I won't pay any more bills for +him. He has a good allowance and he must keep within it. I've told +him so. Now if I'd put _him_ into the army, instead of the Foreign +Office, he might have stuck to it and made a profession of it. I wish +I had--into a working regiment. It would have done him all the good in +the world. However, I don't want to talk about Humphrey. I don't +expect an heir to come from him; and Frank is too young to marry yet. +Besides--a sailor! It's better for him to marry later. Dick _ought_ +to marry, and there's an end of it. And when he comes down to-morrow I +shall tell him so." + +Mrs. Clinton made no immediate reply, but after a pause, during which +the Squire came to the end of his eggs and began to attack the buttered +toast, she said, "I have to tell you something, Edward, which I am +afraid will disturb you." + +"Besides," pursued the Squire in his loud, resolute voice, "there's the +dower-house standing empty now. If Dick were to get married soon I +need not bother about finding a tenant for it. I don't _want_ to let +it; it's too near here. If we got people there we didn't like it would +be an infernal nuisance. Eh, Nina? What were you saying?" + +"I am sorry to say," said Mrs. Clinton, "that Miss Bird is going to +leave us." + +The Squire was just about to put a piece of toast into his mouth, which +was half open for its reception. It remained half open while he looked +at his wife, the toast arrested halfway. "Miss Bird! Leave us!" he +exclaimed when he had found his voice. He could hardly have been more +astounded if his wife had announced that _she_ was going to leave him, +and indeed Miss Bird had lived at Kencote nearly as long as Mrs. +Clinton, and had initiated into the mysteries of learning all the young +Clintons, from Dick, who was now thirty-four, down to the twins, Joan +and Nancy, who were fifteen. + +"She has talked about it for some time," said Mrs. Clinton. "She has +felt that the children were getting beyond her, and ought to have +better teaching than she can give them." + +"Oh, stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the Squire. "I don't want the +children turned into blue-stockings. I'm quite satisfied with what +Miss Bird is doing for them, and if she wants telling so, for goodness' +sake tell her, and let's have no more of such rubbish. Miss Bird +indeed! Who's she to upset the whole house?" + +"I am afraid she has determined to go, Edward," said Mrs. Clinton in +her equable voice. "Her invalid sister, you know, has lost her +husband, and there is no one else to look after her." + +The Squire grunted. "Well, if that's the reason," he said, rather +grudgingly, "I suppose we can't complain, although it's a most infernal +nuisance. I've got used to Miss Bird. She's a silly old creature in +some respects, but she's faithful and honest. Now we shall have to get +used to somebody else. Really, when one thing goes wrong, everything +goes wrong. Life is hardly worth living with all these worries. One +never seems to get a moment's peace. I'm going into my room now, Nina, +to read the paper for a bit." + +"I should like to talk to you for a few minutes longer about the +children," said Mrs. Clinton. "As a change has to be made, I want to +make a thorough one. It is quite true that they are beyond Miss Bird, +even if she could have stayed. I should like to send them to a good +school for two or three years, and then to France or Germany for a +year." + +The Squire bent his brows in an amazed frown. "What on earth can you +be thinking of, Nina?" he exclaimed. "France or Germany? Nice healthy +English girls--teach 'em to eat frogs and horse-sausage--pick up a lot +of affected nonsense! You can put that idea out of your head at once." + +Mrs. Clinton's calm face flushed. "There is no need to talk of that +for two or three years," she said. "I should like them now--when Miss +Bird leaves us--to go to a really good school in England, where they +can learn something." + +"Learn something? What do you mean--learn something? Haven't they +been learning something all their lives--at least since Miss Bird began +to teach them? What does a girl want to learn, except how to read and +write a good hand and add up accounts? I don't want any spectacled, +short-haired, flat-chested females in _my_ house, thank you. The +children are very well as they are. They're naughty sometimes, I've no +doubt, but they're good girls on the whole. Girls ought to be brought +up at home under their mother's eye. I can't think what you want to +send them away from you for, Nina. It isn't like you. I should have +thought you would have missed them. I know _I_ should, and they're not +going to school." + +"I should miss them very much," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"Very well, then, let them stop at home. It's quite simple." + +Mrs. Clinton was silent, bending her head over her work. + +"You would miss them and _I_ should miss them," pursued the Squire, +after a pause. "No, there's no sense in it." + +There was another pause, and then the Squire asked, "Why do you want to +send them to school?" + +Mrs. Clinton laid down her work and looked at him. "I should be +satisfied," she said, "if they could get the teaching they ought to +have at home. Perhaps I should prefer it. But it would mean a +first-class governess living here, and----" + +"Well, there's no objection to that," interrupted the Squire. "I dare +say old Miss Bird is a little out of date. Get a good governess by all +means; only not a blue-stocking, mind you." + +Mrs. Clinton smiled. "I'm afraid she would have to be what you would +call a blue-stocking," she said. "But she needn't show it. Clever +girls don't wear spectacles and short hair necessarily nowadays." + +"Oh, don't they?" said the Squire good-humouredly. He was leaning back +in his chair now, looking at the fire. "How are you going to set about +getting one?" + +"I should ask Emmeline to help me." Emmeline was Lady Birkett, the +wife of Mrs. Clinton's brother, the judge. + +"Not a bad idea," said the Squire. "But I won't have any of your +suffragettes. Herbert is a very good fellow, but he's a most pestilent +Radical." + +"You would let me offer a good salary, I suppose." + +"What do we pay Miss Bird?" + +"Only thirty pounds a year. She has never asked for more." + +"She's a good old creature. I'm sorry for her sister. Is she well +off, do you know?" + +"I'm afraid very badly off." + +"Then how will they get on? I suppose Miss Bird has saved a bit. +She's had no expenses here except her clothes for many years." + +"She told me she had saved about four hundred pounds." + +"_Has she_? Out of thirty pounds a year! It's extraordinary. Still, +that won't give her much, capitalised, poor old creature. I'll tell +you what, Nina, I'll talk it over with Dick and see if we can't fix up +a little annuity for her. She's served us well and faithfully all +these years, and we ought to do something for her." + +"Oh, Edward, I am so glad," said Mrs. Clinton. "I hoped you might see +your way to helping her. She will be so very grateful." + +The Squire lifted himself out of his chair. "Oh yes, we'll do +something or other," he said. "Well, get another governess then, Nina, +and pay her--what do you want to pay her?--forty?" + +Mrs. Clinton hesitated a moment. "I want to get the best I can," she +said. "I want to pay her eighty at least." + +The Squire, in his moods of good humour, was proof against all +annoyance over other people's follies. He laughed. "Oh, I should make +it a hundred if I were you," he said. + +"When the boys had Mr. Blake in their holidays," said Mrs. Clinton, "he +had five pounds a week, and only had to teach them for an hour a day." + +"That's a very different thing," said the Squire. "Blake was a +University man and a gentleman. You have to pay a private tutor well." + +"I want to get a lady," said Mrs. Clinton, "and I should like one who +had been to a University." + +"Oh, my dear girl," said the Squire, moving off down the room, "have it +your own way and pay her what you like. Now is there anything else I +can do for you before I go and write a few letters?" + +"You are very kind, Edward, in letting me have my way about this. +There is one more thing. If the children went to school they would +have extra lessons for music and drawing or anything else that they +might show talent in. Joan and Nancy have both got talent. I want to +be able to have masters for them, from Bathgate--or perhaps even from +London--for anything special that their governess cannot teach them." + +The Squire was at the door. "Well, upon my word!" he said, nodding his +head at her. Then he went out of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A QUESTION OF MATRIMONY + +Dick Clinton, the eldest son, arrived at Kencote at a quarter to eight, +and went straight up to his room to dress. This young man--for, with +his spare, upright frame, sleek head, and well-fitting clothes, he +looked less than his thirty-four years--was as well served as his +father, although he did not get his will by the same means; and the +little wrongs of life, each of which the Squire, as they came along, +dealt with as "a most infernal nuisance," he took more equably. He had +brought his own servant with him, but had no need of him for the time, +for his evening clothes were laid out for him, his shirt, with studs in +and a collar attached, was hung over the back of a chair in front of +the piled-up fire, and he had only to slip out of one suit and into +another as if he had been in the house all day instead of having just +reached the end of a journey of over three hours. These things were +all a matter of course to him. The warm bright room, red-curtained, +and quiet from the deep stillness of the country, gave him no +particular sensation of pleasure when he entered it, except that he was +cold from his journey and there was a good fire; nor, consciously, did +the fact that this was his home, which he liked better than any other +place, although he was more often than not away from it. He was +thinking, as he began immediately in his quick neat way to change his +clothes, that there was no apparent sign of the frost yielding, and +fighting off his annoyance--for he hated to feel annoyed--at the +stoppage of the morrow's hunting. He had very much wanted to hunt on +the morrow, more than he usually wanted anything. + +And yet he was, though he hardly knew it, pleased to be at home, and in +this room, which had been his ever since he had left the nursery. The +little iron bedstead was the one on which he had slept as a boy; the +flat tin bath, standing against a wall with the bath-mat hung over it, +was only rather the worse for wear since those days; the worn carpet, +now more worn, was the same; and the nondescript paper on the walls, +which were hung with photographs of his "house" at Eton, showing him +amongst the rest in five stages, from the little fair-haired boy in his +broad collar sitting cross-legged on the grass, to the young man with +folded arms in a place of honour by his tutor. There were later +Cambridge groups too, exhibiting him as Master of the Drag, in the +eighteenth-century dress of the True Blue Club, and in other +conjunctures of pursuits and companions, but nothing to mark a later +date than his University days, unless it were the big photographs in +silver or tortoise-shell frames on the mantelpiece and writing-table. +Probably nothing had been added to the decoration of the room for a +dozen years, only a few things for use--a larger wardrobe and +dressing-table from another room in the house, a big easy-chair, a fur +rug by the bed. The room contained everything he needed in such a +room, and since he needed nothing there to please the eye, it had +received nothing all these years, and would receive nothing until he +should leave it for good, when he should be no longer the eldest son, +but in his turn the head of the house. + +He had nearly finished dressing when there was a knock at the door, and +a voice, "Are you there, Dick? Can we come in?" + +His rather expressionless face changed a little, pleasantly. "Yes, +come along," he called out, and his young sisters came in in their +fresh muslin frocks, their masses of fair hair tied back with big blue +ribbons. They had that prim air of being dressed, which is different +in the case of girls not quite grown up from that of their elder +sisters. They were remarkably alike and remarkably pretty, and Dick, +who stood at the dressing-table in his shirt sleeves tying his tie, +although he did not turn round to greet them, noticed their appearance +with approval through the glass. + +"Well, Twankies," he said affably, as they went up to the mantelpiece +and stood one on either side of the fire, "what's the news with you?" + +"We are to have a new preceptress," said Joan, the elder, "_vice_ the +old Starling, seconded for service elsewhere." + +Dick turned and stared at her. "Old Miss Bird leaving!" he exclaimed. +"Surely not!" + +"You can't be more surprised than we were," said Nancy--the twins +generally spoke alternately. "She broke it to us in floods of tears +this afternoon. Joan cried too." + +"So did you," retorted Joan. "You blubbered like a seal." + +"And it did me credit," said Nancy, accepting the charge with complete +equanimity. + +"What is she going for?" asked Dick. + +"She has to go and look after her sister, poor old thing!" said Joan. +"And she doesn't think she knows enough to take us on any further." + +"We denied it hotly, to comfort her," continued Nancy. "But it's quite +true. We have the brains of the family, and are now going to leave +childish things behind us. I wish you'd make your watch ring, Dick." + +Dick pressed the spring of his repeater, and the twins listened to its +tinkle in silence. Nancy sighed when he put it into his pocket. "Even +that isn't the treat that it used to be," she said. "We are getting +too old for these simple pleasures. Joan is beginning to take an +interest in dress, and I am often to be seen absorbed in a book. Dick, +shall you kiss Miss Bird when you say good-bye? There's nothing she +would love better." + +"When is she going?" asked Dick, ignoring the question. + +"In about a week," Joan replied. "Dick, I think you ought to kiss her, +if you possibly can. You are the eldest, and nearer her heart than any +of us. She told us so." + +"I'll give you both a kiss and you can pass it on," said Dick, with an +arm round each. "Come along down." + +They went down to the morning-room, and on the stroke of eight Dick led +his mother into dinner, the Squire following. + +The twins settled themselves each in a corner of the big sofa in front +of the fire. They usually read during the half-hour before they were +summoned to dessert, but this evening they had something to talk about. + +"I wonder what she'll be like," Nancy began. + +"If Aunt Emmeline chooses her I should think she would be all right," +said Joan. + +Nancy considered this. "Yes," she said. "But she will have to be kept +in her place. Of course we have always been able to do exactly as we +like with the old Starling. Joan, we must conserve our liberties." + +"Oh, I think we shall be able to do that," said Joan. "We must remain +calm and polite." + +"And keep up our reputation for eccentricity," added Nancy. Then they +both giggled. + +"You know, Joan, I think it's rather fun," Nancy proceeded. "I shan't +a bit mind learning things now. I should have hated it a year or two +ago. But you can't deny that it is rather slow at home." + +"That's why Cicely ran away," said Joan. "She simply couldn't stand it +any longer. But it doesn't worry me like that. We have a pretty good +time on the whole." + +"Yes, we see to that. But, of course, Cicely was much older. And +after all, she didn't run very far--only to London, to see Walter and +Muriel. And she soon came back." + +"She had to. I believe there was more in that than we knew about." + +Nancy looked up sharply. "Do you? Why?" she asked. + +"Oh, I don't know. I believe it had something to do with her +engagement to Jim. She was married pretty soon after, anyhow, and +there was no talk of it at the time." + +"I wonder if we could find out." + +"What's the good? And it's over two years ago now. I wonder if Dick +would drive us over to Mountfield to see the babies to-morrow. He +won't be able to hunt." + +"He won't want to see the babies. Men are so silly in that way. They +pretend they don't care for them." + +"Father doesn't. He's just as silly about them as we are." + +"It isn't silliness in us. We are women, and we understand. If a man +does like a baby it's just as a toy." + +"All the same, I think it does father credit liking his grandchildren. +I should hardly have expected it of him." + +"He's getting softer in his old age. Nancy, I wonder how mother +persuaded him to let us have a really good governess. He'd think it +quite absurd that girls should want to learn anything." + +"My dear child, you could get anything you wanted out of father if you +tackled him in the right way." + +"Only some things." + +"Anything, I said." + +"I'll bet you four weeks' pocket-money that you couldn't get him to let +us hunt." + +"Oh, well! that's part of his religion. 'I may be old-fashioned--I +dare say I am--but to see a pack of women scampering about the country +and riding over the hounds--eh, what? No, thank you!' I didn't mean I +could make him become a Roman Catholic, or anything of that sort. But +I'll bet you what you like I'll get him to let us have a pony." + +"Four shillings?" + +"Right." + +"Do you think you really can, Nancy? It would be jolly." + +"I don't see why he shouldn't. Cicely always rode old Tommy, and so +did we till he died." + +"Only surreptitiously, and bare-backed. We should have to have habits +and all that, now." + +"Mother would see to that. Anyhow, I'll tackle him." + +"How shall you manage it?" + +"I shall think out a scheme." + +"Dick might help. Nancy, I'll bet you eight weeks' pocket-money you +can't get two ponies." + +"I'll begin with one, and see how I get on. Now I think I'll immerse +myself in a book." + +Presently they were called into the dining-room and sat, one on each +side of their father, cracking and peeling walnuts for him and eating +grapes on their own account, demure and submissively responsive to his +affectionate jocularity. "What big girls you're both getting!" he +said. "And going to be turned into blue-stockings, eh, what! Have to +buy you a pair of spectacles each next time I go to Bathgate." He +laughed his big laugh, drank half a glass of port, and beamed on them. +He thought they were the prettiest pair of young feminine creatures he +had ever seen, and so little trouble too! It was a good thing for a +man to have sons to carry on his name, but young girls were an +attractive addition to a family, and to the pleasures of a big house. +He had thought it rather ridiculous of his wife to present him with the +twins fifteen years before, and seven years after his youngest son was +born, but he had long since forgiven her, and would not now have been +without them for anything. + +When he and Dick were left alone over their wine there was a short +pause, and then he cleared his throat and began: "I want to talk to you +about something, Dick." + +Dick threw a glance at him and took a puff at his cigarette, but made +no reply. + +The Squire seemed a little nervous, which was not usual with him. "Of +course I don't want to interfere with you in any way," he said. "I've +always given you a pretty free hand, even with the property, and all +that sort of thing. I've consulted you, and you've had your way +sometimes when we've differed. That's all right. It will belong to +you some day, and you're--what?--thirty-four now." + +"Yes," said Dick. "Thirty-four. Time to think of settling down, eh?" + +The Squire brightened. "Yes, that's just it," he said. "Time to think +of settling down. You've had enough soldiering--much more than I had. +I never expected you would stick to it so long." + +"I don't want to leave the service yet," said Dick calmly. "I'm down +here pretty often--almost all my leave." + +"Yes, yes, I know," said the Squire. "But if--if---- Well, look here, +Dick--no use beating about the bush--why can't you get married?" + +Dick smiled. "It wouldn't be a bad scheme," he said. + +The Squire was pleased. He was getting on splendidly. "You feel +that," he said. "Well, I haven't liked to say anything, but it's been +on my mind for a long time." He then recapitulated the reasons why he +thought Dick should marry, as he had enunciated them to Mrs. +Clinton--his position as eldest son and heir to a fine property, his +advancing age, the inadvisability of looking to Melbury Park as the +cradle for a successor to the emoluments and amenities of Kencote, or +of leaving it to Humphrey, the second son, to provide an heir. "The +fact is, you ought to do it for your own sake," he wound up, "as well +as for the sake of the place." + +"Whom do you want me to marry?" asked Dick, with a shade of flippancy. + +"Oh, well, I'd leave that to you," the Squire conceded handsomely. +"You've a lot to offer. I should think you could pretty well take your +pick--must have had plenty of opportunities all these years. You +needn't look for money, though it's always useful. Any nice girl of +good birth--of course you wouldn't want to marry one who wasn't. Good +heavens! there must be a score of them presented every year, and you +have been about London now for ten or twelve years. Do you mean to say +you haven't got one in your mind?" + +"Haven't you?" asked Dick. + +"Well, if you like to consult me, why not Grace Ettien? Old Humphrey +Meadshire would be delighted. She is his favourite granddaughter, and +I'm sure he would like to see her married before he goes." + +"Grace is a charming girl," replied Dick. "But I don't want to marry +my cousin." + +"Cousin! My dear fellow, old Humphrey and your grandfather were first +cousins. You're surely not going to let that stand in the way." + +"I've known her ever since she was a baby. She's a baby now. It would +be like marrying one of the Twankies." + +The Squire began to get fussed. "You're talking nonsense, Dick," he +said. "She must be at least twenty-one. The fact is you have left it +so long that an ordinary girl of a marriageable age seems a child to +you. You'll be taking up with a widow next." + +There was an appreciable pause before Dick asked, "Well, should you +object so much to that?" + +"Of course I should," said the Squire, "--for you. I shouldn't mind in +the case of Humphrey, if she wasn't too old, and had enough money for +the pair of them. I'm not going to pay any more of his debts. I'm +sick of it." + +Dick allowed the conversation to travel down this byroad for a time, +and when the Squire brought it back to the original track, said, "Well, +I'll think over what you say. But I don't know that I should care, +now, about marrying a young girl." + +The Squire turned this over in his mind, looking down on his plate, and +his brows came together. "What do you mean?" he asked shortly. "You +wouldn't want to marry an old woman." + +Dick took his cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it. + +"When I marry," he said decisively, "it will probably be a woman of +nearer thirty than twenty." + +The Squire made the best of it. "Oh, well--as long as she's not over +thirty," he said. "Girls don't marry so young as they used to. +But--well, you must think of an heir, Dick." + +Dick made no reply to this, and the conversation ended. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +EXIT MISS BIRD + +Miss Bird arose on the next morning to find her window glazed with +frost, and it was characteristic of her and of the house in which she +had lived for over thirty years that her first thought was, "No hunting +to-day"; although the deprivation could not be expected to hold any +disappointment for herself, or indeed to affect her in any way. + +Her second thought marked a drop to the sombre uneasiness in which she +had spent wakeful hours during the night. She would not rise many more +times in this familiar room, nor look out on to a scene which she had +come to know so well at all seasons of the year that she could not help +loving it. She would have liked to see the trees of the park, for a +farewell, in their early June dress, the grass about them powdered with +the yellow of buttercups. But she hoped so to see them again. She had +been made to feel that she was parting from friends, that she was by +virtue of her long and faithful service part of the family, that she +would not lose them altogether. The Squire had said the day before, +when he had made known to her that he had heard of her projected +departure, "You must come and see us, you know, Miss Bird. The house +won't be like itself without you." + +Could anything be more gratifying--and from such a man? Mrs. Clinton, +of course, had been kindness itself, had said just the right things to +make a person feel herself valued, and said them as if she meant them, +as no doubt, dear lady, she did, for she was always sincere. And the +darling children had cried--she should never forget that as long as she +lived--when she had told them that she was going. Here the simple lady +found a tear trickling down her own sharp nose, and put a hairpin in +her mouth while she wiped it away. + +It seemed impossible that she should really be going. It was just upon +thirty years since she had first come to Kencote, and it seemed like +yesterday. She summoned up a rueful little smile when she recalled, in +the light of her now assured position as "a member of the family," her +palpitating nervousness on her introduction to the great house, so +different from anything she had known. She had never been "out" +before. She had had a good education, for those days, in the day +school that her mother, the doctor's widow, and her elder sister had +carried on in a little town in which she had been born, and had taught +in it till she was twenty-eight. Then, after deep consultation, she +had answered Mrs. Clinton's advertisement, and, her references having +proved satisfactory, had been engaged to impart the rudiments of +education to a child of five, which she had modestly thought she was as +capable of doing as anybody, and at a salary that seemed to her +munificent. + +She remembered arriving at Kencote on a spring evening and being +received by Mrs. Clinton, the pretty young wife and mother, who had +been almost as shy as herself, but had been so anxious that everything +should be "nice" for her that she had soon lost her awe of the big +house and the many servants; and even the figure in the background from +which all the splendour around her emanated lost some of its +imaginative terror, since the lady of the house had proved so +accessibly human. She had thought the little boy, whom she had been +taken to see in bed, a darling, and so quaint when he asked her +solemnly if she could jump a pony over a log, because he could. She +had liked his quiet, elderly nurse, who had come to talk to her in her +schoolroom when he had gone to sleep. She had called her "miss," and +shown that she had no wish to "presume," but only the wish to be +friendly, and they had, in fact, remained friends for years. She had +been greatly pleased with the size and comfort of her schoolroom, which +she had entirely to herself, to read or write or play the piano in, +outside hours of lessons, which were at first as short as was +conceivably possible. And she had not in the least expected that there +would be a maid for the schoolroom, who was, as she wrote to her +sister, practically her own maid, calling her in the morning and +bringing her a cup of tea, lighting a fire for her every evening in her +bedroom as a matter of course, and indeed treating her as if she might +be the mistress of the house. + +She had been happy at Kencote from the first, although she had been a +good deal alone, for until her little pupil had grown bigger she had +had all her meals sent up to her in the schoolroom, except on Sundays, +when she lunched downstairs in charge of little Dick. Those were +nervous occasions, for it took her a long time to get used to the +Squire--the young Squire, as he was then--with his loud laugh and +hearty ways, who used to chaff her at table in a way to cause her +uneasiness, although he was never anything but kind, and she was +assured, even when she blushed deepest, that his manner was only +intended to put her at her ease and make her feel "one of the family." + +She had soon lost any awe she may have started with of Mrs. Clinton, +although her respect for that lady's character had only grown with the +passage of time. Mrs. Clinton used to sit with her sometimes in the +schoolroom, and in the summer time they would work under the big lime +in the garden while little Dick played about on the lawn. Miss Bird's +simple gaiety of heart had had play, and her rather breathless +volubility had never been checked by any stiffness on the part of Mrs. +Clinton. Mr. Beach, the Rector of Kencote, and the Squire's +half-brother, had always treated her with consideration, and his wife +had made her feel at home in the rectory, and expected her to visit +there occasionally on her own account. The Squire's six maiden aunts +at the dower-house, all but one of whom were now dead, had also treated +her kindly, but in a rather more patronising manner. She had not +minded that. She had quite agreed with the opinion which underlay +everything they said and did, though it was seldom expressed in words, +that the Clintons of Kencote were great people in the land, and her +native humility had led her to accept gratefully the attentions paid to +her by them and their neighbours, and to "presume" on it no more than +little Dick's nurse had presumed on her own mild gentility. + +She had found little Dick rather a handful as he grew older, but she +had coped successfully with him, by the expenditure of much energy of +speech and action, and had courageously beaten the beginnings of +learning into his brain, so that he took a good place at his first +school, and she was not disgraced. By that time Humphrey was ready for +her guiding hand, and then Walter, and a few years later, Cicely, +hailed with joy as a pupil whom she might train up to the fine finish; +for there could be no talk of school for a girl Clinton, and Miss +Bird's success with Dick had given her a high place as an instructress +in the Squire's estimate of her abilities, so that there was never any +idea of her being some day superseded, and the years at Kencote +stretched happily in front of her. + +Cicely was nine, and Frank, the sailor, seven, when the twins arrived. +The day of their birth was a good day in Miss Bird's annals. It meant +more years still at Kencote, and by this time the idea of living with +any other family would have been most distressing to her. And yet she +would have had to seek another situation but for the arrival of the +twins, for when she should have finished with Cicely she would be fifty +only, and would not have put by enough money to enable her to retire. +These are the hardships of a governess's lot, and Miss Bird had them +fully in her mind, saving and skimping all through the fruitful years +for a time when not only the opulences of existence in a house like +Kencote should be hers no longer, but it might be difficult to make +ends meet at all. The twins lifted a weight off her mind, which, with +all her daily cheerfulness and courage, had never been quite absent +from her; for another nine or ten years would just enable her to +provide for her old age, and she knew that those nine or ten years +would be hers if she could only keep her health, of which there seemed +no reasonable doubt. "It is not many women in my position who are as +fortunate as I," she had written to her sister at the time. "The +Squire, who _roared_ with laughter when he heard of the birth of the +darling babies, said to me the first time he saw me afterwards, 'Well, +that fixes _you_ for another twenty years, Miss Bird.' And he added in +a way which you might think profane if you had not heard him say it, +'Thank God, eh?'" + +Well, here was the end of those happy years, which seemed to have sped +like a week or two since the birth of the twins. She had seen Walter +and Cicely married and had dandled their babies. She had shared Mrs. +Clinton's daily anxiety during the long months Dick had served in South +Africa, and had taken his award of a D.S.O. almost as a personal +compliment. She had been glad at all the joys of the family and +saddened with their sorrows. She had seen the Squire grow from a +handsome young man to an elderly one, and Mrs. Clinton's hair turn +nearly white. She had boxes and drawers full of the presents she had +received at Christmas and on her birthdays, which had never been +forgotten, and the photographs of Clintons of all ages from babyhood +upwards were displayed on every available standing place in her room. +They were more to her than her sister or her sister's children, but the +call had come to her to leave them and to go to a place where she would +have to work hard and anxiously for the rest of her life on a very +small pittance and in very narrow surroundings, and it had never +occurred to her to shirk it. It had all fitted in--she felt that she +had been "guided." The teaching which she had never doubted that she +was able to give to Cicely now seemed to her inadequate for the finish +of the twins' education, but she did doubt, now that her departure had +been settled for her on other grounds, whether she would have had the +strength to say so and cut herself adrift of her own accord. Here was +matter for thankfulness--that she had been led to see what her duty +was, and to do it. She would always have Kencote to look back to, and +she was indeed fortunate to have spent the best part of her life in +such a place, and with such people. + +The twins came in as she was finishing her toilette, to take her down +to breakfast. This was a reversal of the procedure of the past, when +it had been the first of her daily duties to hunt them out of whatever +spot out of doors or in to which their vagrant fancy had led them, and +see that they appeared to the public eye duly washed, combed, and +brushed. They embraced her, enveloping her wizened form with their +exuberant youth, like flowers round a peastick, and she was moved to +the depths of her being, though all she said was, "Now, Joan 'n' Nancy, +don't be rough. You can love a person without untidying her hair." + +"Are your nails quite clean, Starling darling?" asked Joan, taking one +of her hands and examining it. + +"And are you quite sure you've brushed your teeth properly?" enquired +Nancy. + +"Now don't _tease_, Joan 'n' Nancy," said Miss Bird, disengaging +herself. "I shall only be here another week and you must try and be +_good_ girls and let me go away remembering that." + +"Joan was saying this morning as we were dressing," said Nancy, "that +she was very sorry now to think of all the trouble she had given you, +Starling darling, and if she could have the time over again she would +behave very differently." + +"Idiot!" retorted Joan. "It's you who have given the trouble. +Starling has often said that if it weren't for your example I should be +a very good girl, haven't you, Starling darling?" + +"You would _both_ be good girls if it wasn't for the other's example," +replied Miss Bird. "And you can be dear good girls as good as gold and +I hope you will when the new governess comes to teach you." + +"I hope we shall, but I doubt it," said Joan. + +"You see, Starling darling, what we would do for you we couldn't be +expected to do for a stranger whom we didn't love, could we?" said +Nancy. + +Miss Bird was moved by this, and would have liked to embrace the +speaker, with words of endearment. But she had grown rather wary of +exhibiting affection towards her pupils, who were apt to respond so +voluminously as to leave her crumpled, if not actually dishevelled. + +"Well, if you love me as much as you say you do," she said, "you will +remember all the things I have told you; now are you _quite_ ready for +breakfast, because it is time to go down?" + +"We told Dick you would like him to kiss you before you went, and I +think he will," said Joan innocently, as they went down the broad +staircase all three abreast. + +"Now, Joan, if you _really_ said a thing like that--oh, take care! take +care!" Miss Bird had tried to stop on the stairs and withdraw her arm +from Joan's, who, assisted by Nancy on the other side, had led her on +so that she tripped over the next step, and would have fallen but for +the firm grasp of the twins. She was led into the dining-room, +protesting volubly, until she saw that Mrs. Clinton and Dick were +there, when the episode ended. + +When breakfast was over the Squire surprised her by asking her +immediate attendance in his room, to which she followed him across the +hall in a flutter of apprehension. It would not be quite true to say +that she had never been into this room during the thirty years of her +sojourn at Kencote, but it was certainly the first time she had entered +it on the Squire's invitation. He did not ask her to take a seat, nor +did he take one himself, but stood in front of the fire with his coat +tails over his arm and his hands in his pockets. + +"There's a little matter of business I should like to settle with you, +Miss Bird," he said. "You've lived here a considerable number of +years, and you've done remarkably well by us and the children. If +everybody did their duty in life as well as you, Miss Bird, the world +'ud be a better place than it is, by George! Now I want to do a little +something for you, as you've done so much for us, and I've talked it +over with Dick, and we are going to buy you a little annuity of fifty +pounds a year, which with what my wife tells me you've saved will put +you out of anxiety for the future; and I'll tell you this, Miss Bird, +that I never--Eh, what! Oh, my good woman ... God's sake ... here, +don't take on like that ... Gobblessme, what's to be done?" + +For Miss Bird, overcome by this last great mark of esteem, had broken +down and was now sobbing into her handkerchief. Knowing, however, the +Squire's dislike of a scene she succeeded in controlling herself, and +addressed him with no more than an occasional hiccup. "I beg your +pardon, Mr. Clinton; I couldn't help it and it's too much and I thank +you from the bottom of my heart and shall never forget it as long as I +live and it's just like all the rest of the kindness I've received in +this house which I could never repay if I lived to be a hundred." + +"Well, I'm very glad it meets your views, Miss Bird," said the Squire, +greatly relieved at the subsidence of emotion, and anxious to escape +further thanks. "And I assure you the obligation's still on our side. +Now, I must write some letters, and I dare say you've got something to +do, too." + +Miss Bird retired to her bedroom where, unrebuked, she shed her tears +of thankfulness, then wiped her eyes and sponged her face and went +about the duties of the day. + +These did not, this morning, include lessons for the twins, for it was +Saturday, which was for them a holiday, when complete freedom was +tempered only by the necessity of "practising." Dick had refused to +drive them over to Mountfield to see their sister and her babies, but +had offered them a walk to the dower-house during the course of the +morning. + +"I wonder what he wants to go there for?" said Joan, as they went +upstairs. + +"There's more in this," said Nancy, "than meets the eye." + +There did not, however, seem to be more in it than a natural desire to +see a house empty which one has always known occupied, and this desire +the twins shared. They found Dick in an affable mood as they walked +across the park together--the sort of affectionately jovial mood of +which they had occasionally taken advantage to secure a temporary +addition to their income. Indeed, it seemed to have brought Dick +himself a reminder of his young sisters' financial requirements, for he +asked them, "Have you saved up enough money for your camera yet, +Twankies?" + +Neither of them replied for the moment, then Joan said rather stiffly, +"We shan't be able to buy that for some time." + +"Why, you only wanted twenty-five shillings to make it up a month ago, +and I gave you a sovereign towards it," said Dick. + +Another short pause, and then Nancy said, "You gave it us!" + +"Yes," said Dick, "to buy a camera. I'm not certain you didn't screw +it out of me. I never quite know whether it's my idea or yours when I +tip you Twankies. Come now, what have you done with that sovereign?" + +"We have spent it on a good object," said Joan. "But we do want the +camera most frightfully badly, and if you would like to contribute to +the fund again it would save us many weary months of waiting." + +"To say nothing of a severe economy painful to our generous natures," +added Nancy. + +"Not till I know what you spent the last contribution on," said Dick. +"You're getting regular young spendthrifts. I shall have to look into +this, or you'll be ruining me by and by." + +"Won't you give us anything more unless we tell you?" enquired Joan; +and Nancy amended the question: "Will you give us something more if we +do tell you?" + +"I'll see," said Dick. "Come, out with it!" + +"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of," said Joan. "We wanted to buy +the old Starling a really good present, and out of our own money." + +"It took the form of a pair of silver-backed brushes with cupids' heads +on them, and cost three pounds seventeen and sixpence," added Nancy. + +"They are not cupids, but angels," said Joan, "which are much more +adapted to Starling's tastes." + +"Well--cupids or angels--it cleaned us entirely out," concluded Nancy. + +Dick put an arm round the shoulders of each and gave them a squeeze as +they walked. "You're a pair of topping good Twankies," he said. "I'll +start your new camera fund. I'll give it you now." + +"Thanks awfully, Dick," said Joan, as he took out his sovereign purse, +"but I think we'd rather you didn't. You see, it's rather a special +occasion--the poor old Starling going away--and we wanted to give her +something that would really cost us something." + +"I agree with my sister," said Nancy. "But thanks awfully all the +same, Dick. You're always a brick." + +"Well, I respect the delicacy of your feelings, Twanks," said Dick. +"But isn't anybody ever going to be allowed to contribute to the camera +fund? How long does the embargo last?" + +"There's a good deal in that," said Joan thoughtfully. "Of course we +can't refuse tips for ever, can we, Nancy?" + +Nancy thought not. "Let's say in a month from to-day," she suggested. +"If Dick likes to give us something then and happens to remember it--of +course, we shan't remind him--then I think we might accept without +feeling pigs." + +"I'll make a note of that," said Dick gravely, "when I get home." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE DOWER-HOUSE + +Surrounded by its winter woods and an over-thick growth of evergreens, +the little Jacobean hall, which had for centuries been the second home +of the Clintons of Kencote, had an air slightly depressing as Dick and +the twins came to it through the yew-enclosed garden at the back. +White blinds were down behind all the leaded mullioned windows, only +one thin thread of smoke rose into the sky from the carved and twisted +chimney-stacks. + +Forty years before, when the Squire had succeeded his grandfather, his +six spinster aunts had left him in undisturbed possession of the great +house and taken up their abode here, very seldom to leave, until one by +one they had been carried off to their grave in Kencote churchyard. +Aunt Ellen, the eldest of them all, had died at a great age a few +months before, and Aunt Laura, the youngest, who was now seventy-eight, +had removed herself and her belongings to a smaller house in the +village. Neither Dick nor, of course, the twins had ever known the +dower-house unassociated with the quiet lives of the old ladies, and +they shared in their different degree the same feeling of strangeness +as they stood under the porch and listened to the bell echoing in the +empty house. It was like a human body from which life had departed, +but with its age and many memories it still kept a soul of its own +which could be revivified by fresh occupancy. + +They went through all the rooms. There was a great deal of fine old +furniture in them, things which Clintons of past centuries had bought +new, never thinking that they would some day acquire merit as +antiquities. There were few such things in the great house, which had +been rebuilt after a fire in the reign of Queen Anne and refurnished +later still, in the reign of Queen Victoria. Nor had the beautiful +things of which the dower-house was full been valued in the least by +their owners until long after the six maiden aunts had gone to live +there. They had been simply old-fashioned in the eyes of the Squire, +their owner, and were so still, for he had no knowledge of such things, +and no appreciation of them. Dick knew a little more, and as he looked +at one fine old piece of furniture after another, standing forlorn on +the carpetless floors, or against the dark panelling of the walls, he +said, "By Jove! Twankies, there's some good stuff in this old shanty." + +"Who is going to live in it?" asked Joan. + +"Ah, that's the question!" replied Dick. "Tell you what, Twankies, +let's play a game. Supposing I ever got married, _I_ should live here, +you know. Let's see how the rooms would pan out." + +The twins were quite ready to play this or any other game, although it +did not promise much excitement, because there were only quite a +limited number of rooms, and most of them were more or less obviously +labelled. It seemed, however, that Dick was prepared to play the game +seriously, for after they had fixed the dining-room, drawing-room, +morning-room, and smoking-room, and a tiny oak parlour which the aunts +had used for garden chairs and implements and Dick said would do for +his guns if a baize-lined glass cupboard were put up in a recess by the +fireplace, he inspected the kitchen premises with some thoroughness. + +"I say, Dick, _are_ you going to get married and come and live here?" +asked Joan, as he began to make notes on the back of an envelope. + +"There's more in this than meets the eye," observed Nancy. + +"Small Twankies mustn't ask impertinent questions," replied Dick. "But +I'll tell you exactly how it stands, and you mustn't let it go any +further." + +"Oh, rather not," said Joan. + +"Our ears are all agog," said Nancy. + +"You see, Twankies, _some_body has got to live in this house, haven't +they? Well, then, it must be done up, eh? And if _I_ come and live in +it some day, I don't want to have to do it up again--see? So there you +have it all in a nutshell." + +"Yes, I see," said Joan; "but it's a little disappointing." + +"It all sounds very reasonable," said Nancy, "but I still think there's +more in it than meets the eye." + +They were in the great stone-floored kitchen, which still retained its +cavernous hearth and open chimney. + +"You could roast an ox here," said Dick. "We'll turn this into a +servants' hall, Twankies, and rig up the other place for cooking. The +cellar's all right, so is the pantry--and big enough for two. We'll +divide it up, eh? and one part will do for a brushing-room. There's +nowhere at present where a servant can brush your clothes." + +"What wonderful domestic knowledge you display, Dick!"' observed Nancy. +"Where are the maids to brush their mistresses' clothes? In here with +the valets?" + +"Yes, of course," said Dick. "This isn't a palace. People who come to +stay must expect some inconveniences. I don't see any place for a game +larder. We must see about that outside. Now we'll go upstairs." + +They went up the broad shallow stairs of age-worn oak, and through the +hive of rooms, which opened into one another, and led out into little +passages, closets, and stairways in the most confusing way, and made +you wonder what scheme of daily life the old builder had in mind when +he planned them. He had certainly wasted a great deal of room. The +main corridor opened out here and there into broad spaces, where there +was perhaps a bookcase, or a low seat under a latticed window, or only +the rich emptiness of the square of oak panelling, the polished floor, +and the plastered ceiling. Whatever his aims, he had gained his effect +of gracious ease and warm shelter. However varied might be the needs +of its occupants through the succeeding years, the dower-house would be +as much of a home as on the day it was first built. + +"A man might make himself very comfortable here, Mr. Copperfield," +quoted Nancy, as they stood at a window of the biggest bedroom, which +had panels of linen pattern, with a plastered frieze and an oak-beamed +ceiling. There was also a heavy carved oak bed, in which Aunt Ellen +had recently looked her last upon surroundings that had continually +reminded her of the age and importance of the family of which she was a +member. + +"I shall have all these beastly laurels grubbed up, and some of the +trees cut down," said Dick. "The place is like a family vault. And +I'm not sure that I won't have this woodwork painted white." + +Joan looked doubtfully round her. She knew nothing of the value of old +good things, but she felt dimly that the carved panelling, dark with +age, ought to remain as it was. Nancy felt so still more strongly. +"It would be wicked to do that," she said. "This is a lovely room, and +tells you stories. If you like I'll give you a rhapsody." + +Joan grinned. "Have you ever heard one of Nancy's rhapsodies, Dick?" +she asked. "They're awfully good." + +Dick had not, but expressed himself willing to listen to whatever +foolishness might be in store for him for the space of one minute +precisely. Nancy stood against the dark woodwork on the other side of +the room. Her pretty, mischievous face was framed in the thick fall of +her fair hair and the fur round her throat. She wore a little fur cap +and a red coat, and a big muff hung from her shoulders. Dick, always +affectionately disposed towards his young sisters, thought he had never +seen a girl of her age look prettier, and put his arm vicariously round +Joan, who was exactly like her, as they sat on the window-seat. + +"In this old house," began Nancy, using her right hand for +gesticulation and keeping the other in her muff, "lots of old Clintons +have died, and lots of new Clintons have been born. Think, my +children, of the people who have come here to live. Some of them were +gallant young men Clintons who had just taken to themselves fair young +brides, and they were full of hope for the future, and pleasure in +having such a jolly house to live in with her they loved best in the +world. A few years would pass and the rooms would echo with the voices +and steps of little children, and all would be gaiety and mirth. Then +a change would come over the spirit of the scene. The young couple +would go with their family to the great house, and in their stead would +come a sad-faced figure in deep black, a Clinton widow, who had had her +day of glory, and would now spend the rest of her years here in peace +and seclusion. But all would not be dark to her. She would have great +fun in suiting the dear old house to her taste, she would be cheered by +the constant visits of the younger members of her family, and she could +do a good deal more what she liked than she had done before." + +"Well, upon my word!" interposed Dick. + +Nancy held up her hand. "Hear, all ye Clintons!" she concluded. "Old +men and women, young men and maidens, and especially the gallant +warrior knight and the sweet young maiden I see before me--ye belong to +a race which has its roots far back in history, and has been +distinguished for many things, but not particularly for brains, as far +as I can make out from my recent researches. But at last there has +arisen one who will make up for that deficiency. You now behold her in +the person of Nancy Caroline Clinton, who addresses you. See that ye +cherish her and tip her well, or ye will be eternally disgraced in the +eyes of posterity." + +She ended with a ripple of laughter, shaking back her hair. + +"Well, you're the limit," said Dick, with a grin. "Come on, let's go +and look at the stables. Is it true that you suddenly find yourself +possessed of brains, Twanky? I never suspected it of you." + +"My dear Dick," said Joan, as they went down the stairs, "she has been +talking about nothing but her brains for the last month, ever since +Uncle Herbert last came here to shoot." + +"They were always there," explained Nancy, "but he put the match to the +tinder. I'm going to write books when I get a little older. But of +course I must be properly educated first. I suppose you know we're +going to have a really up-to-date, top-hole governess, Dick?" + +"Yes, I've heard that," said Dick, "although I don't admire your way of +describing her. Lord, what a place to put a horse!" + +"If it is the expression 'top-hole' you object to, I learnt it from +you," said Nancy. "My ears are receptive." + +"Two loose-boxes and three stalls," said Dick. "We can make that do, +but they're all on the slant. We'd better begin by altering this at +once; the house can wait for a bit." + +"Of course the stables are more important than the house," said Joan. +"I say, Dick, there is something we want to ask you. Do be a brick and +say, yes." + +Dick was pursuing his investigations. "Coach-house isn't bad," he +said. "Harness-room wants refurnishing. Let's see what the rooms +upstairs are like." + +They climbed up the steep staircase. "Dick, will you persuade father +to do something?" asked Joan. + +"What?" asked Dick. "This would be all right for an unmarried groom." + +"We want a pony. We've never had anything to ride since poor old Tommy +died." + +They were clattering down the stairs again. "You want--you want--you +want everything," said Dick. "You'll want a four-in-hand next. I +don't know whether you want a pig-stye, by any chance. I'll give you +this one if you do--ridiculous place to put it! This is where we'll +build the game larder. Come on, Twankies, we'll go and look up old +Aunt Laura. I want to see what she's taken away from here." + +He set off at a smart pace, the twins on either side of him. "I don't +know why _you_ want to go putting your oar in about the pony," said +Nancy. "I was to tackle father about that." + +"Tackle father!" repeated Dick. "Look here! that's not the way to talk +about the governor, Nancy." + +"Oh, Dick darling, don't call me Nancy. I feel that I'm trembling +under the weight of your displeasure." + +Joan hastened to her relief. "When she said 'tackle,' she only meant +that I betted her four weeks' pocket-money that father wouldn't let us +have a pony," she said. + +"You mean well, but you've done it now," said Nancy. + +"Really, it's about time that you two had somebody to look after you," +said Dick. "Who on earth taught you to bet, I should like to know?" + +"Humphrey," replied Nancy promptly. "We were standing by him, and he +betted us a shilling each that he would bring down the next bird that +came over. He didn't, and he paid up promptly." + +"We wanted him to bet again, but he refused," said Joan. + +"But it gave us a taste for speculation which we shall probably never +overcome," said Nancy. + +Dick grunted. "Humphrey oughtn't to have done it," he said. "You are +not to bet with each other, you two. And that bet about the +pony--which was infernal cheek to make, anyhow--is off. Do you hear?" + +"Yes, Dick dear," said Joan obediently. "But what does a bet being +'off' mean, exactly?" + +"Is it the same as hedging?" asked Nancy. + +"It means--well, it means it's off. You know what it means as well as +I do. And I don't like your arranging with each other to get things +out of the governor, either--or anybody else. You get plenty given +you, and it isn't nice for girls of your age to be always on the make." + +"But, Dick darling," expostulated Joan, "there are such lots of horses +about the place. I think we might be allowed to ride now. Of course, +we didn't mean a pony, really. We are big enough to stick on a horse, +and father wouldn't have to buy another one for us." + +"We are about to embark on an arduous course of study," said Nancy, +"and horse exercise would be the best possible thing for us." + +"You stick to your golf," said Dick. "We spent a lot of money making +those links in the park, and you get more fun out of them than anybody." + +"Then you won't help us about riding?" asked Joan. + +"No," said Dick. "All the nags are wanted for hunting, and I'm not +going to advise the governor to increase the stables." + +Nancy breathed a deep sigh. "It's all your fault, Joan," she said. +"You don't know how to treat a man. You must never blurt things out +that you want. You must remember women are a subject race." + +"But you won't mind our asking father, Dick, will you?" pleaded Joan. + +Dick gave his ultimatum. "You'd better give up the idea," he said. +"And remember what I told you about being on the make. You're nice +kids, but you want keeping in order. I hope the new lady will do it." + +"I hope she will," said Nancy; "but she's got a hard row to hoe. I +can't help feeling a little sorry for her." + +Aunt Laura had taken up her abode in a little old house on the village +street, with a square, brick-walled garden behind it. The agent had +occupied it before the death of Aunt Ellen, but had now removed to a +farm which was in hand. + +They found the old lady sitting by the fire in her parlour, knitting. +She was frail and shrunken, and looked as if she might not long survive +her transplantation. Mrs. Clinton or the twins came to see her every +day, but a visit from the Squire or one of his sons, and especially +Dick, was an honour which never failed mildly to excite her. She was +now in a flurry, and told the elderly maid who had shown her visitors +in to bring wine and cake, in the fashion of an earlier day. The men +of the family never refused this entertainment, either because they +were averse to wounding Aunt Laura's susceptibilities, or because they +liked it. + +"Well, I hope you've made yourself pretty comfortable, Aunt Laura," +said Dick in a loud, clear voice, for the old lady was rather deaf, +although she did not like to acknowledge it. He was looking round the +room as he spoke. Its panelled walls were painted light green, and +were hung with coloured prints. A recessed cupboard was full of +beautiful old china; but there was nothing else of much value in the +room, which was furnished with a Victorian drawing-room suite and a +round rosewood table. The old lady had a pretty modern French table by +her side with conveniences for her work and her books. She had also +her old cottage piano, with a front of fluted red silk, upon which she +sometimes played. A canary hung in the window, which faced south and +let in, between the curtains, a stream of wintry sunshine. + +"It is a bright little house," said Aunt Laura. "I sometimes wish that +your dear Aunt Ellen had spent the last few years of her life here +after your dear Aunt Anne died. The dower-house was a very dear home +to us, and we were greatly attached to it, but in the winter it was +dark, and this is much more cheerful. It is cold to-day, and I am +sitting over the fire, as you see. But I often sit by the window and +see the people going by. You could not do that in the dower-house, for +nobody did go by." + +"Did you bring all the furniture you wanted to make you comfortable, +Aunt Laura?" asked Dick. + +Aunt Laura looked up over her spectacles. "I am quite comfortable, I +thank you, Dick," she replied, "although I have not got quite used to +things yet. It is not to be expected that I should, all at once, at my +age, and after having lived with the same things round me for close +upon forty years. But your dear father has been kindness itself, as he +always is, and allowed me to have all my bedroom furniture brought +here, so that in my room upstairs I feel quite at home. And for the +downstairs rooms he told me that any pictures or china and so forth +that I had a fancy for I might have, and I hope I have not taken +advantage of his generosity. I shall not want the things for very +long, and they are being well taken care of. He did not want me to +take any of the furniture, as he said this house was furnished already, +but he wanted me to feel at home here." + +Dick seemed to consider for a moment. "If there's anything special you +want in the way of furniture, Aunt Laura," he said, "anything you've +got attached to and like to use, we'll see if we can't get it brought +down for you." + +"Well, of course, I got attached to it all," replied Aunt Laura. "But +I can't expect to have it all, and what is here will do for me very +well. Hannah is making some pretty loose chintz covers for the chairs +and sofa in this room, which will give it a more home-like appearance. +I do not like the carpet, which is much worn, as you see, and was never +a very good one, but I have half formed a plan of going over to +Bathgate when the spring comes and seeing if I can get one something +after the pattern of that in the morning-room at the dower-house, which +your aunts and I used much to admire. It was old and somewhat faded, +but its colours were well blended, and I have heard that it was brought +straight from Persia, where they have always made excellent carpets, +for my grandfather, who was in business in the city of London. He +would be your great-great-grandfather, and they used to call him +'Merchant Jack,' even after he succeeded to Kencote." + +If Dick had known the true value of the carpet in question he might not +have offered to have it sent down for Aunt Laura's use, but he +immediately did so, and the old lady's gratitude ought sufficiently to +have rewarded him. "Now is there anything else, Aunt Laura?" he asked. + +"Well, as you are so extremely kind, Dick," she said, "--and I hope +your dear father will not mind, or think that I have been grasping, +which I should not like after all his generosity--I think if I might +have the use of the old bureau upon which your aunts and I used to +write our letters and in which we used to keep our few business +papers--for there was a very good lock--not that there was any +necessity to lock things up at the dower-house, for everything was +under Hannah's charge, and, although she is apt to be a little flighty +in her dress, and your dear Aunt Ellen sometimes rebuked her for that, +but always kindly, she was quite reliable, and _anything_ might have +been left about in perfect safety.--As I was saying, if I might have +the use of the old bureau for as long as I live--I should not want it +longer--I do not think I should regret anything, except of course that +your dear aunts are all gone now, and I am the last of them left." + +Dick had prepared himself, during the foregoing speech, to promise, +immediately it came to an end, that Aunt Laura should have the old +bureau, although it was a very fine specimen of Dutch marquetry, and +the piece of furniture that had struck him as the most desirable of all +he had just seen in the dower-house. "Oh, of course, Aunt Laura," he +said. "You shall have the bureau and the carpet sent down this +afternoon. Then you'll feel quite at home, eh?" + +"Well, perhaps not this afternoon, Dick," replied Aunt Laura. "It +might upset the house for Sunday to make a change, and I should not be +quite ready to superintend it. But on Monday, or even Tuesday--I am +not particular--I could make ready. There is no immediate hurry. It +is enough for me to know that I am to have the things here, and I shall +think upon them with very great pleasure. I'm sure I cannot thank you +enough, dear Dick, for your kindness. It is of a piece with all the +rest. Why, I do not believe you have yet seen my beautiful table. +Children dear, see here! Is it not convenient? I can place my +favourite book here by my side, and when I am tired of reading, without +moving from my seat, I can lay it down, and there is my work ready for +me underneath, and in this pocket, as you see, are all sorts of +conveniences, such as scissors, little tape-measure in the form of a +silver pig, and so on; and here an ivory paper-knife. It is indeed a +handsome present, is it not?" + +"It's lovely, Aunt Laura," said Joan. "Who did it come from?" + +"On Thursday," replied Aunt Laura. "Thursday morning. No, I am +telling you a story. It was Thursday afternoon, for Hannah was just +about to bring in the tea." + +"Who gave it you, Aunt Laura?" asked Joan again. + +"Did I not tell you?" said Aunt Laura. "It was dear Humphrey. He sent +it down from London. He came in to see me when he was last at Kencote +and described to me such a table as this, which I admit I _did_ say I +should like to possess, but certainly with no idea that he would +purchase one for me. But there! all you dear boys and girls are full +of kind thoughts for your old aunt, and I am sure it makes me very +happy in my loss of your dear Aunt Ellen to think I have so much left +to be thankful for." + +When the twins were in their bedroom getting ready for luncheon Joan +said, "I wonder why Humphrey is so attentive all of a sudden to Aunt +Laura." + +"There's more in it than meets the eye," said Nancy. "Did you notice +how surprised Dick looked when she said Humphrey gave it her? And then +he frowned." + +"I expect Dick thinks Humphrey is too extravagant. It must have been +an expensive table. And I know Humphrey has debts, because he asked me +to open a tailor's bill that came for him and tell him the 'demnition +total,' as he was afraid to do it himself. It was more than a hundred +pounds, and he said, 'I wish that was the only one, but if it was I +couldn't pay it.'" + +"Poor old Humphrey!" said Nancy. "I say, Joan, do you think he is +making up to Aunt Laura, so that she will pay his bills for him?" + +"What a beastly thing to say, Nancy!" replied Joan. "Of course, none +of the boys would do a thing like that. Besides, Aunt Laura hasn't got +any money." + +"No, I don't suppose so," said Nancy reflectively. "I expect father +gives her an allowance, poor old darling!" + +But Aunt Laura had money. She had the thirty-six thousand pounds which +her father had left to her and her sisters, and she had, besides, the +savings of all six ladies through a considerable number of years. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +LADY GEORGE + +The Squire had a touch of rheumatism, and was annoyed about it, but +also inclined to give Providence due credit for so visiting him, if he +must be visited at all, at a time of hard frost. "If I coddle myself +up to-day and perhaps to-morrow," he said over the luncheon table, "I +shall be able to hunt all right on Monday, if the frost breaks. I +suppose you wouldn't care to go over those Deepdene Farm figures this +afternoon, Dick, eh?" + +"We might have an hour with them before dinner," replied Dick. "I +thought of riding over to Mountfield to see Jim this afternoon. I want +a little exercise." + +"I don't know whether you will find Jim in," said Mrs. Clinton. +"Muriel, and I think Mrs. Graham, are coming over here this afternoon." + +"I'll take my chance," said Dick. + +The twins saw him off from the hall door. He rode a tall bay horse, +which danced with impatience on the hard gravel of the drive as he +looked him over, drawing on his gloves. + +"Dear old Cicero! doesn't he look a beauty?" said Nancy. "What was his +figure, Dick?" + +"You will never be able to get on him," said Joan. "Shall I bring a +chair?" + +But Dick was up and cantering over the crisp grass of the park, +managing his nervous powerful mount as if he and the horse were of one +frame and as if nothing could separate them. + +"He does look jolly," said Joan admiringly. + +"He's a good man on a horse," acquiesced Nancy. + +"All the boys are. So they ought to be. They think about nothing +else." + +"You know, I think Dick is just the sort of man a girl might fall in +love with," said Joan. "He's very good-looking, and he has just that +sort of way with him, as if he didn't care for anybody." + +"I expect lots of girls have fallen in love with him. The question is +whether he is ever going to fall in love with them. I'm inclined to +think he's turning it over in his mind. I dare say you were blinded by +all that business at the dower-house this morning. I wasn't. You mark +my word, Joan, Dick is going to get married." + +"I shouldn't wonder. He's grown softer somehow. See how interested he +was in the kitchen. Who do you think it is, Nancy?" + +"My dear! Don't you know that? It's Grace Ettien. Didn't you notice +what a fuss father made of her when she last come over? Took her all +round, and almost _gave_ her the place. He doesn't treat girls like +that as a rule." + +"You didn't say so at the time." + +"No; but I've put two and two together since. You see if I'm not +right. By this time next year the dower-house will be occupied by +Captain and Lady Grace Clinton--and oh, Joan! perhaps there'll be +another baby in the family!" + +The ecstasy of the twins at this prospect was broken into by Miss Bird, +who appeared behind them in the doorway and promised them their deaths +of cold if they did not come indoors _at once_. + +In the meantime Dick was trotting along the hard country lanes, between +the silent silvered winter woods and the frozen fields, always with an +eye about him to see what things of fur and feather might share with +him the winter solitude, what was doing in the hard-bound soil, and +what in the clear spaces of the air. He had the eye of the countryman, +trained from boyhood to observe and assimilate. He had lived for years +the life of court and camp, had adapted himself as readily to the +turmoil of London gaieties as to regimental duties in other stations at +home and abroad, or to months of campaigning in Egypt and South Africa. +He had skimmed the cream of all such experiences as had come in his +way, but here in the depths of the English country, just here where his +ancestors had lived for generation after generation, were placed the +foundations of his life. Here he was at home, as nowhere else in the +world. All the rest was mere accident of time and place, of no account +as compared with this one spot of English soil. Here alone he was +based and firmly rooted. + +Mountfield lay about four miles from Kencote, and the two estates +marched, although the one was small as compared with the other. Two +years before, Jim Graham, the owner of Mountfield, had married Cicely +Clinton, and his only sister just before that had married Walter +Clinton, the doctor of Melbury Park, where the Squire was so averse to +looking for an heir. So the Clintons and the Grahams were bound +together by close ties, and there was much coming and going between the +two houses. + +Cicely's carriage was before the door as Dick rode up, and she herself +came out as he dismounted. She looked very pretty in her thick furs, +young and fresh, and matronly at the same time. + +"Oh, Dick, I'm so glad to see you," she said. "Have you come to see +Jim? I'm afraid he's gone over to Bathgate, and won't be back for some +time." + +"H'm! That's a bore," said Dick. "You're going over to Kencote, +aren't you, Siskin?" + +"Yes. I'm going to fetch Mrs. Graham and drive her over. But do come +in for a minute or two." + +"Oughtn't to keep the horses long in this weather," said Dick. "Drive +'em about for a few minutes, Carter. I'll just come in and throw my +eye over the babies, Siskin." + +Cicely's face brightened. She led the way into her morning-room, and +turned to kiss her brother, her hands on his shoulders. "Dear old +Dick!" she said. "Do you really want to see the babies?" + +"Of course I do," he replied. "You've given us the taste for them over +at Kencote. The Twankies foam at the mouth with pleasure whenever the +babies are mentioned, and even the governor looks as if a light were +switched on in his face when anything is said about them." + +Cicely rang the bell. "He is a doting grandfather," she said, with a +smile. "I would take them over this afternoon, but it's too cold." + +"Nice room, this!" said Dick, looking round him. "Are you glad to be +settled down in the country again, Sis?" + +"Yes. Awfully glad," she said. "I hated London, really. At least, I +liked meeting the people, but you can only feel at home in the country." + +"There was a time," said Dick. + +She blushed. "Oh, don't talk about that, Dick," she said, in some +distress. "I was all wrong. I didn't know what I wanted. I know now. +I want just this, and Jim, and the babies. I was overjoyed when our +two years in London were up, and Jim said we could come back here if we +kept quiet and lived carefully. Here they are--the darlings!" + +The tiny morsels of lace and silk-clad humanity--Dick, the boy, Nina, +the baby girl--who were brought into the room in charge of a staid +elderly smiling nurse, looked as happy babies ought to look--as if they +belonged to the house and the house belonged to them. Dick took up his +namesake and godson in his arms and his keen face softened. "He's +getting a great little man," he said. "When are you going to cut his +hair, Cicely?" + +Cicely scouted the idea. "Men are always in such a hurry," she said. +"Dick, you ought to marry and have babies of your own." + +"Ah, well! perhaps I shall some day," said Dick. "Now I must be +pushing on, and you oughtn't to keep the horses waiting, Sis. +Good-bye, little chap." + +"Aren't you coming back to Kencote?" Cicely asked. + +"Not just yet. Going to hack a few more miles. I haven't been on a +horse for three weeks." + +So Cicely got into her carriage and Dick's horse was brought round, and +they went off in different directions. + +Cicely picked up her mother-in-law at her house just outside the park. +Mrs. Graham was waiting for her at her garden gate, in company with a +deerhound, a spaniel, and an Irish terrier. She had on a coat and +skirt of thick tweed, and a cloth hat with a cock's feather. + +"I suppose there won't be a tea-party," she said, as she got into the +carriage. "I did intend to put on smart clothes, but I found I +couldn't be bothered when the time came. They must take me in my rags +or not at all. _You_ look smart enough, my girl." + +"If I had your figure," said Cicely, "I should never want to wear +anything but country clothes." + +"Ah! now that's very nice of you," said Mrs. Graham. "I do wear well +for fifty-three, and I'm not going to deny it. My face is a bit +battered, of course. I must expect that, riding and tramping about in +all weathers. But I'm as fit as if I were thirty years younger, and I +don't know what more you can ask of life--unless it's to have your own +people round you instead of a pack of molly-coddles." + +Cicely laughed. Jim Graham had let Mountfield for two years after +their marriage to a rich and childless couple, who spent most of their +time in working at embroidery, and motoring about the country in a +closed-in car, for neither of which pursuits Mrs. Graham had found it +in her heart to forgive them. + +"Well, _they're_ gone," she said. "And thank goodness for it. I +should have let the Lodge and gone away myself if they had stayed here +any longer. Cumberers of the ground, I call them, and what they wanted +with a country house beats me. But you never know who you're going to +get for neighbours nowadays. By the by, have you heard that old Parson +Marsh has let Blaythorn Rectory for the hunting season?" + +Blaythorn was about three miles from Mountfield, on the opposite side +to Kencote. Cicely had not heard this piece of news. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Graham, "and to a lady of title, my dear--Lady George +Dubec--no less. I haven't the ghost of an idea who she is. But no +doubt your father will know. He is a regular walking peerage--knows +who everybody is and whom everybody has married to the third and fourth +generation. What accommodation poor old Parson Marsh has for hunters I +don't know. I should think the lady must have been done in the eye. +And as for the house--the last time I was in it it smelt so of dogs and +tobacco-smoke that even I couldn't put up with it, and Lord knows I'm +not particular." + +"Where is Mr. Marsh going to live?" asked Cicely. + +"Oh, I believe he has sacked his curate on the strength of it, and has +taken his rooms. I don't know why he should have wanted a curate at +all, except that he's so bone-idle, and I'm sure he can't afford one. +He owes Joynes the butcher over forty pounds. But, good gracious, +Cicely, don't encourage me to gossip. I'm getting a regular old hag. +It's the influence of your late tenants, my dear. They _loved_ village +tittle-tattle, and I had to join in with it whenever we met, because +there was nothing else in the wide world I could talk to them about. +The worst of it is I was acquiring quite a taste for scandal. But I've +turned over a new leaf. So has old Marsh I suppose, and is going to +pay up all his debts. I wish him well over his difficulties." + +With such sprightly talk did Mrs. Graham pass away the time till they +reached Kencote, when she began all over again with Mrs. Clinton as +audience. Cicely had gone upstairs to see the twins and Miss Bird, and +Mrs. Graham asked point-blank that Mr. Clinton might be informed of her +arrival. "I have lots to tell him," she said, "and I want to ask him +some questions besides." + +Mrs. Clinton rang the bell, without saying anything, and a footman was +sent with a message to the Squire, who presently came in, bluff and +hearty, but walking with a slight list. + +"Ah, Mrs. Graham!" he said as he shook hands. "Come to cheer us up +with a little gossip--what? But where are the grandchildren?" + +"Dear me! I forgot to ask," said Mrs. Graham. "I suppose it is too +cold for them. But I've brought the dogs, Mr. Clinton." + +"Oh, the dogs!" said the Squire, with his loud laugh. "No dogs in +_this_ house." + +"I know," said Mrs. Graham. "And it's such a mistake. Kencote is the +only country house I know where there isn't a dog indoors. I never +feel that it's properly inhabited." + +"It was swarming with them in my grandfather's time," said the Squire, +"and I dare say would be now if that mongrel hadn't gone for Dick when +he was a little fellow. Always kept 'em outside since. Outside is the +place for a dog." + +"I don't agree with you," said Mrs. Graham. "And it isn't like a +sportsman to say so. However, we needn't quarrel about that. Who is +Lady George Dubec, Mr. Clinton?" + +"Lady George Dubec?" repeated the Squire. "I suppose she's the +wife--or the widow rather--of George Dubec, the Duke of Queenstown's +brother, and a pretty good rascal _he_ was. Got killed in a railway +accident in America two or three years ago, and it was the best thing +that could have happened to him. Wish they'd kill off a few more like +him. I didn't know he was married. Why do you ask?" + +"She has taken Blaythorn Rectory to hunt from. She came down yesterday +or the day before." + +"Blaythorn Rectory! To hunt from!'" exclaimed the Squire. "Well, +that's the most extraordinary thing! Are there any stables there? I +never heard of Marsh keeping anything but an old pony, and the whole +place must be in the depths of dilapidation." + +"Well, I don't know. But there she is. And you don't know _who_ she +is. I thought you knew who everybody was, Mr. Clinton." + +"Wait a minute," said the Squire, and he went over to a table where +there were books of reference. "No, there's no marriage here," he +said, turning over the pages of one of them, "except his first marriage +thirty years ago. Poor Lady Bertha Grange that was, and he drove her +into her grave within five years. The fellow was a brute and a +blackleg. I was at school with him, and he was sacked. And I was at +Cambridge with him and he was sent down, for some disgraceful business, +I forget what. Then he was in the Guards, and had to clear out of the +service within a year for some precious shady racing transaction. The +fellow had every possible chance, and he _couldn't_ run straight. He +went abroad after that, but used to turn up occasionally. Nobody would +have anything to do with him. I believe he settled down in America, if +he could ever be said to settle down anywhere. I know he was in some +scandalous divorce case. One used to hear his name come up +occasionally, and always in an unsavoury sort of way. He was a wrong +'un, through and through, but a good-looking blackguard in his young +days, and women used to stick up for him." + +"Well, he seems to be better out of the world than in it," said Mrs. +Graham. "But what about his widow? You say she isn't down there." + +"No, but this book is out of date. I've got a later one in my room. +I'll send for it." + +The new book gave the information required. Lord George Dubec had +married five years before Miss Virginia Vanreden, of Philadelphia. + +"Oh, an American!" said Mrs. Graham. "Well, I suppose I must go and +call on her. Even if I don't like her I shall be doing my duty to my +neighbours in providing them with gossip. Not that I like gossip--I +detest it. Still, one must find _some_thing to talk about. Shall you +call on her, Mrs. Clinton?" + +The Squire answered. "Oh, I think not," he said. "I don't like +hunting--er! hum! ha!" + +"You don't like hunting women," said Mrs. Graham imperturbably. "I +know you don't, Mr. Clinton. That's another point between us. But +we're very good friends all the same." + +"Oh, of course, of course," said the Squire. "Nearly put my foot in it +that time, Mrs. Graham, eh? Ha! ha! Well, with such old friends one +can afford to make a mistake or two. No, I think we'll leave Lady +George Dubec alone. She won't be here long, and I've no wish to be +mixed up with anybody belonging to George Dubec--alive or dead. I had +the utmost contempt for the fellow. Besides, I don't like Americans, +and any woman who would have married him after the life he'd led ... +well, she may be all right, but I don't want to know her--that's all. +I _should_ like to know, though, how she got hold of Blaythorn Rectory, +of all places, or why she has come to Meadshire to hunt. The country +pleases _us_ all right, and we're quite content with our sport, but +we're not generally honoured by strangers in that way." + +"I dare say I can find out all about it," said Mrs. Graham. "And when +I do I'll let you know." + +Cicely was sitting on the great roomy shabby sofa in the schoolroom, +with a twin on either side of her, and Miss Bird upright in the corner, +alternately tatting feverishly a pattern of lace thread and dabbing her +eyes with her handkerchief. For the subject of conversation was her +approaching departure, and, as she said, with all the kindness that had +been showered on her and the affection that she felt she never would +lose, it was no use pretending that she was glad she was going away, +for she was not, but, on the contrary, very sorry. + +"Nancy and I are going to write to her once a week regularly," said +Joan. "We did think of writing every day at first, but we probably +shouldn't keep it up." + +"The spirit is willing, but the flesh might be weak," said Nancy. "And +there's no sense in overdoing things. Anyhow, we have promised that we +will never love Miss Prim half as much as we love our darling Starling, +and she is pleased at that, aren't you, Starling darling?" + +"Of course I am pleased to be loved," replied Miss Bird; "but indeed, +Nancy, I should not like you to set yourself against your new governess +on my account; it is not necessary and you can love one person without +visiting it on another and I do not like you to call her Miss Prim." + +"She is sure to be," said Nancy elliptically. "We must call her +something, and that's as good a name as any till we see what she is +like." + +"If you don't treat her respectfully she won't stay," said Cicely. + +"We haven't treated Starling respectfully, but _she_ has stayed all +right," said Joan. "I suppose you know we are going to have lessons +besides, Sis--drawing, and music, and deportment, and all sorts of +things." + +"Oh, we're going to be well finished off while we're about it," said +Nancy. "We shall be ready to fill _any_ position, from the highest to +the lowest." + +"We shall be the ornament of every drawing-room to which we are +introduced," said Joan. "I think we're worth polishing off handsomely, +don't you, Sis? Have you noticed how awfully pretty we're getting?" + +"Now that is a thing," broke in Miss Bird, "that no well-brought-up +girl ought to say of herself, Joan." + +"But, Starling darling, it's true, and you can't deny it," replied +Joan. "We must tell the truth, mustn't we?" + +"The new booking-clerk at the station casts admiring glances at us," +said Nancy. "At first it made us uncomfortable; we thought we must +have smuts on our noses. But at last we tumbled to it. Cicely, we are +loved, not only for our worth, but our beauty." + +"You are a couple of donkeys," said Cicely, laughing. "Well, I'm glad +you're going to apply yourselves to learning, although it's a dreadful +thing to be losing our dear old Starling. Kencote will be quite +changed." + +"There are many changes coming about at Kencote," said Nancy. "Joan +and I can feel them in the air. We'll let you know when there's +anything more to tell you, Cicely." + +"Thank you very much," said Cicely. "I think I had better go +downstairs now." + +The twins went with her, and on the stairs Cicely said, "I didn't like +to say it before Starling, but I think you're awfully lucky children, +to be going to be taught things. _I_ never was. I do hope you'll take +advantage of it." + +"Oh, I _do_ hope we shall," said Joan. "It is such a chance for us. +We feel that." + +"Deeply," acquiesced Nancy. "If we don't we shall never forgive +ourselves--never." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BLAYTHORN RECTORY + +Dick, when he had left Mountfield, trotted on at a slightly faster pace +than he had hitherto come, in the direction of Blaythorn, and did not +draw rein until he came to that rectory concerning whose occupancy his +relations and connections were so exercised. It was a dull house, with +a short, weed-grown drive behind a rather shabby brick wall and an +overgrown shrubbery, on the outskirts of the village. He got off his +horse and rang the bell, which was presently answered by a smart +parlourmaid, who gave him a discreet smile of welcome, and whisked off +at his request, with a flourish of petticoats, to fetch a groom from +the stableyard hard by. Then she showed him into the drawing-room, +where two women were sitting by the fire, one of whom rose to greet him +with an exclamation of pleasure, while the other gathered up her work +deliberately and prepared to leave the room. + +Lady George Dubec was a tall, slender woman in the early thirties, or +possibly only in the late twenties. Her face was a little worn, but +her eyes were deep and lustrous, and her features delicate. When she +smiled she was beautiful. Her dark hair was elaborately braided; her +slim figure looked well in a black gown of soft folds. She had thin, +almost transparent hands, covered with jewels. She moved gracefully, +and her voice was low, but clear and musical, with only the suspicion +of an un-English intonation. + +"Oh, Dick, what a godsend you are," she said as she gave him both her +hands. "Toby and I were wondering how on earth we were going to get +through the rest of the afternoon and evening." + +"I wasn't wondering at all," said the other lady, who had now also +risen and shaken hands with the visitor. "I knew you would come. So +did Virginia, really. We were talking about you. I will now retire to +another apartment and leave you alone." + +"Indeed you'll do no such thing," said Virginia Dubec, taking her by +the shoulders and pushing her back into her chair. "We will have the +lights and tea--although it is early--and a talk of three together. +We're all friends, and you're not going to sit alone." + +"Of course not," said Dick. "A nice sort of state you'd work yourself +up into against me! I know you, Miss Dexter." + +She took her seat again and unrolled her work. She was short and +rather plain, with sandy-coloured hair and square-tipped fingers. She +had not smiled since Dick had entered the room. + +"Oh, I don't deny that I'm jealous," she said. "I've had her to myself +for three years, and you have come and stolen her away from me. But +it's a harmless sort of jealousy. It doesn't make me object to you. +It only makes me wonder sometimes." + +"What do you wonder?" asked Dick, standing up before the fire and +looking down at her with a glance that immediately transferred itself +to her companion, on whom his eyes rested with an expression that had a +hint of hunger in it. + +Virginia answered for her. "She wonders what there is in a man for a +woman to cling to--and especially after _my_ experience. She thinks a +woman's friendship ought to be enough. _She_ wants no other. We talk +over these things together, but we don't quarrel. She knows that I +shall always love her, don't you, Toby?" + +"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't," said Miss Dexter. "But we needn't +discuss these matters before Captain Dick. I'll ring for the lights +and the tea." + +Dick breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. He was not at home in the +discussions of abstract questions. "How do you find yourself here, +Virginia?" he asked, looking round him. "You have made this room very +jolly, anyhow." + +"That's what Mr. Marsh said, in his own particular way," she said, with +a smile. "He said, 'If I'd known a woman could do this sort of thing +to a house, I'd have married a wife years ago.'" + +"And of course Virginia immediately suggested he should marry me," said +Miss Dexter. "She is so generous with her belongings." + +"It made us very good friends," said Lady George. "A joke of that sort +always does. We shall carry it on till the end of my tenancy, and then +he will propose to Toby. You'll see, Dick." + +"I shouldn't blame him," said Dick. "The stables aren't so very bad, +are they?" + +"Oh, Wilson says they'll do. But I wish you had been able to get me a +brighter house, Dick. It is rather depressing, in spite of all my +furbishing and knick-knacks." + +"My dear girl, it was absolutely the only one within reach. We don't +let houses for hunting hereabouts. You wait till you see the +dower-house. I was there this morning, and really I'd no idea what a +jolly little place it is. With the few alterations I'm going to make, +and all the jolly old furniture, it will be a topping place. You'll +fall in love with it, Virginia." + +She sighed. "There are some fences to take before we land up there," +she said. "I'm rather frightened about it all, Dick. When will your +mother come and see me? Have you told her I am here yet?" + +"No," he said shortly. "I shall tell them this evening." + +Miss Dexter dropped her work in her lap with a gesture of impatience, +and looked up at him. "_Why_ haven't you told them?" she asked. "Are +you ashamed of her?" + +Dick's face flushed and his lips tightened. "That isn't a proper +question to ask, Miss Dexter," he said. "I know what I'm about, and so +does Virginia." + +"My dear Toby, for goodness' sake don't make him angry," said Lady +George. "I'm frightened of him when he looks like that." + +Dick forced a smile. "My father is a good sort, but he wants +managing," he said. "I'll state the case quite plainly once more, as +Miss Dexter sees fit to question my action." + +"Oh, good gracious!" put in that lady, "I'm not worth all these heavy +guns." + +"Toby! Toby!" expostulated her friend. + +The maid came in at that moment with a lamp and stayed to draw curtains +and light candles. Dick dislodged himself from his stand in front of +the fire and took a chair, but left it to the two women to carry on a +desultory conversation until they were left alone again. Then he rose +once more. "Look here," he said. "We've got to have this out once for +all. I'm not going to be twitted for my actions, Miss Dexter." + +"Well, please have it out," she said. "I'm listening." + +"You are the most tiresome creature in the world," said Lady George. + +"I don't want to say anything to hurt you, Virginia," Dick went on, +"but the name you bear would set my father against you--violently." + +"Oh, my dear Dick!" she said, "you don't hurt me in the least, but why +go into all that? We understand each other. Toby, I feel as if I +could beat you." + +"Well," said Dick. "I won't say any more about that, but you have got +to remember it. But there are prejudices to get over besides. He +wants me to make the usual sort of marriage with a--oh, you know the +sort of female child fellows like me are supposed to marry--his mind is +running on it now, and he actually tackled me about it last night. +He's got the young person all ready--that's the sort of man he is--my +cousin, Grace Ettien. I said, No, thank you, and I told him I didn't +want to marry a youngster--wouldn't, anyway. It's no good beating +about the bush, Virginia--until he sees you--_until_ he sees you, +mind--you don't fill the bill." + +"That's a pleasant way of putting it," said Miss Dexter. + +"I won't have another word," said Lady George decisively. "You two are +just annoying each other. Dick, my dear, I think it's just sweet of +you to put all your faith in that seeing of me. I adore you for it. +It eases all my spiritual aches and pains. Toby, you irritating +creature, can't you see how lovely it is of him? If he were all wrong +about having me come down here, I shouldn't care. He has done it +because he believes in his heart of hearts that his people have only +got to set eyes on me and all their objections will vanish into thin +air." + +"I don't say that quite--I don't know," said Dick. + +"Well, you needn't go and spoil it," said Miss Dexter. "I was just +going to say that it did make up for a good deal." + +"Look here, Miss Dexter," said Dick. "If I were to go and tell my +father straight off that I am going to marry Virginia he would be all +over bristles at once. All the things that don't matter a hang beside +what she is, and what every one can see she is who knows her, would be +brought up, and he'd put himself into a frantic state about it. He +wouldn't let me bring her to Kencote; he'd fight blindly with every +weapon he could use. I'm heir to a fine property, and I'm as well off +as I need be, even while my father is alive, as long as I don't set +myself against all his dislikes and prejudices. If I do, he can make +me a poor man, and he'd do it. He'd do anything by which he thought he +could get his way. I shouldn't even be able to marry, unless I lived +on my wife's money, which I won't do." + +"No, you're too proud for that," said Miss Dexter. + +"Put it how you like. I won't do it. I'll take all a wife can give me +except money. That I'll give. If there were no other way, I'd break +down his opposition. I know how to treat him, and I could do it; but +it would take time; I should cut myself off from Kencote until I had +brought him under, and Virginia's name would be bandied about here, in +the place where we are going to live all our lives, in a way that would +affect us always, and in a way I won't subject her to. He'd do that, +although he might be sorry for having done it afterwards, and I don't +think I should be able to put up with it. We might quarrel in such a +way that we shouldn't be able to come together again, and the harm +would be done. As I say, if there were no other way I would run the +risk. But there is another way, and I'm taking it. You asked me a +foolish question just now--if I was ashamed of Virginia. It is because +I am so far from being ashamed of her--because I'm so proud of +her--that I asked her to come down here, where he can get to know her +before he has any idea that I'm going to marry her. _She_ can make her +way, and make him forget all the rest. Now, what have you got against +that? Let's have it plainly." + +"Dear Dick!" said Virginia softly. "I have had many compliments paid +me, but that is the best of all. Answer him, Toby, and don't keep up +this tiresome irritation any longer. It spoils everything." + +"Well, I'll give in," said Miss Dexter. "But in my inmost soul I'm +against all this policy, and if your father isn't quite blind, Captain +Dick, he will see through it, and you will be worse off than before." + +"My father can't see through anything," said Dick. "Besides, there's +nothing to see through. I shouldn't mind telling him--in fact, I +_shall_ tell him--that it was I who advised Virginia to come down here. +He knows I have heaps of friends all over the place that he doesn't +know of. Virginia is one of them, for the present." + +"I hope everything will turn out well," said Miss Dexter after a slight +pause. "I won't say I think you're right, but I'll say you may be, and +I hope you are. And I won't worry you with any more doubts." + +Virginia Dubec rose from her chair impulsively and kissed her. "My +darling old Toby!" she said. "You are very annoying at times, but I +couldn't do without you." + +After tea Miss Dexter went out of the room, and they did not try to +stop her. When they were left alone Dick held Virginia in his arms and +looked into her eyes. "What have you done to me," he asked her, with a +smile, "after all these years?" + +"Am I really the first, Dick?" she asked him. + +"You are the first, Virginia--and the only one. You have changed +everything. I have always thought I had everything I wanted. Now I +know I've had nothing." + +"And I have had nothing, either," she said. "Every morning I wake up +wondering what has happened to me. And when I remember I begin to +sing. To think that at my age, and after my bitter experience, _this_ +should come to me! Oh, Dick, you don't know how much I love you." + +"I know how much I love _you_," he said. "If there were no other way I +would give up Kencote and everything else for you. I love you enough +for that, Virginia, and the things I would give up for you are the only +things I have valued so far. But we won't give up anything, my girl. +My good old obstinate old father will fall at your feet when he knows +you." + +"Will he, Dick?" + +"_I_ have fallen at your feet, Virginia, and I'm rather like my father, +although I think I can see a bit further into things, and I have a +little more control over my feelings--and my speech." + +They had sat down side by side on a sofa, and Dick was holding her +slender hand in his brown one. + +"I used to think you had so much control over yourself that it would be +impossible ever to get anything out of you," she said. "You are so +frightfully and terrifyingly English." + +He laughed. "That gnat-like friend of yours has the power to make me +explain myself," he said. "I've never tried to talk over any one to my +side as I do her. I have always taken my own way and let people think +what they like." + +"I think it is sweet of you to put yourself--and me--right with her, +Dick. She has been the best friend that I ever had, except you, dear +Dick. She stood by me in the worst days, and put up with untold +insults without flinching, so that she could stay with me. Of course, +at first, she was terrified lest I should make another mistake. She is +like a grim watch-dog over me. But she likes you, and trusts you. You +must put up with her little ways." + +"Oh, I do, my dear, and I will. She's a good sort." + +"Dick, will your mother like me? You have never told me very much +about her. I think I feel more nervous about her than about your +father." + +"You needn't, Virginia. She is one of the best of women. I think she +is perhaps a little difficult to know. She is rather silent and keeps +her thoughts to herself; but I know we shall have her on our side. She +has only to know you. But in any case she wouldn't give us any +trouble." + +"That sounds rather hard, Dick. Don't you love your mother? I loved +mine." + +"Of course I do. But she doesn't interfere with us. She never did. +It was my father we had to consider, even when we were boys." + +"Interfere with you! I don't like the sound of it. Dick, I don't +think I will talk to you about your mother. I will wait until I have +seen her. You don't help me to know what she is like. I hope I shall +get on with her. I shall know soon. Will she be at the meet on +Monday, if there is one?" + +"No. But my father will. I shall introduce him to you then. I told +you he had a foolish prejudice against women hunting, didn't I? It +won't be quite the most propitious of times. But we can't help that." + +"Well, I won't hunt on Monday, then. I will drive Toby to the meet +instead, and follow on wheels." + +"H'm. Perhaps it would be better--just at the first go off. And I +don't believe you really care as much about hunting as you think you +do, Virginia." + +She looked into his face with her dark, sweet eyes. "I don't care +about anything, except to please you, Dick," she said. "As for +hunting--it was the excitement--to keep my mind off. It was the only +thing he let me do, over here. I believe he would have liked me to +kill myself, and sometimes I used to try to." + +He put his hand before her mouth. "You are not to talk about those bad +times," he said. + +She kissed his hand, and removed it. "I like to, sometimes," she said. +"It is such a blessed relief to think of them as quite gone--it is like +the cessation of bad neuralgia--just a sense of peace and bliss. +Perhaps I didn't really try to kill myself, but certainly I shouldn't +have cared if I had. It was not caring that gave me my reputation, I +suppose, for I didn't mind where I went or what I did. I do care now. +I don't think I should very much mind giving it up altogether." + +"Well, you mustn't do that for this winter, at any rate. You shall do +what you like afterwards. And as for your reputation, my dear, I'm +afraid we are so out of the smart hunting world in South Meadshire that +you will find very few of us aware of it. So you needn't run any risks +in trying to keep it up." + +"Very well, Dick. But I expect when the hounds begin to run I shall +forget that I have to be cautious. Yes, I do love it. I don't want to +give up hunting. And there won't be much for me to do here outside +that, will there?" + +"I'm afraid I am condemning you to a dull three months, my poor +Virginia. But I want you to get to know the country, and love it, as I +do. Kencote means a lot to me. I want it to mean a lot to you too." + +"So it shall. I love it already, for your sake, and it seems a +wonderful thing to me that you and all the people you have sprung from +should have been settled down just in this little spot in the world for +all those centuries. Dick dear, I know you are giving up a lot for me. +I know, although I wasn't brought up in all these traditions, that your +father is right, really, and that it is not a woman like me you ought +to choose for your wife." + +Dick raised her hand and let it fall with his own. "I have chosen you +for my wife, Virginia, out of all the women I have known. I love and +honour you, and I wouldn't have you different--not in the smallest +particular. No Clinton of Kencote has ever chosen a wife more worthy +to bear his name. Let that be enough for you, and don't worry your +pretty head about anything, except to make love to my old father when +you meet him." + +When Dick had ridden away, in the gloaming, and the two women were left +to themselves for the long evening, Virginia Dubec said to Miss Dexter, +"Toby, tell me the truth; don't you think I am the most fortunate woman +in the world?" + +"If all goes well," said the other soberly and decisively, "I think you +will be happy. But your Dick, Virginia, is the sort of man who will +want to rule, and to rule without question. He is very much in love +with you now--that is quite plain, although he is one of those men who +hold themselves in. But you won't get your way, my dear, when you are +married, unless it is his way too--any more than you did before." + +"Oh, my own way! What do I care about that? My way shall be his way. +I love him and I can trust him. He is a strong man, and tender too. +Toby, I adore him. I will do everything in the world that I can to +make him happy. He has raised me out of the dust, and given me to +myself again. When I am married to him I shall forget all the pain and +misery. It's a new life he is giving me, Toby, and the old unhappy +life will fall from me and be as if it had never been." + +"You are expecting a great deal, Virginia," said Miss Dexter; "I hope +some part of it will be realised." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SQUIRE PUTS HIS FOOT DOWN + +Kencote was three hours' journey from London by a fast train, and it +had always been the custom of the sons of the family--those of them +whose avocations made it necessary for them at any time to live in +town--to come down whenever they pleased, to spend a night or a few +nights, without announcing their arrival. Their rooms were there ready +for them. Kencote was their home. Dick or Humphrey, and, in the days +before he was married, Walter, would often walk into the house +unexpectedly and go upstairs and dress without any one but the servants +knowing they were there until dinner-time. The Squire liked them to +come and go in that way. It seemed to give him, in his retired, +bucolic life, a tie with the world. He would always give them a hearty +welcome, even if he had to object to something they had done, or had +left undone, before they left again. + +It was Humphrey who arrived on this Saturday afternoon, reaching +Kencote by the half-past four train, and walking up from the station +and into the morning-room, for his cup of tea. The Squire's greeting +was a shade less hearty than it would have been in the case of his +other sons. Humphrey had given him a good deal of trouble in the way +of money. It is true that there had never been any big catastrophe, no +sudden demand for a large sum to meet a debt of honour, from racing or +cards, as fathers were sometimes confronted with by extravagant sons. +Humphrey was too cautious to run those sorts of risks. The Squire, +perhaps, would have preferred that the demands upon him should have +come in that way rather than from the constant, rather cold-blooded +exceeding of an allowance which he told himself, and Humphrey, was as +large as any younger son had a right to expect, and a good deal larger +than most of them got. Humphrey did not deny this. He simply said, +whenever he did ask his father for more money, that he had not been +able to do on it, but if his father would clear off his debts for him +and give him a fresh start, he would try to do on it for the future. +He had made the endeavour three times, and each time with less success +than before, for the debts had been bigger. And now the Squire was +getting angry about it. It had always been the same. Humphrey's debts +after he had left Cambridge had been about twice as large as Dick's, +although Dick had been Master of the Drag and had had expenses that +Humphrey had not. Walter had left Oxford with no debts at all. And +since their University days, Humphrey had actually had more money than +either of the others, although Dick was the eldest son and a +considerable sum had been paid to buy Walter his practice. + +Now it was not the Squire's way to bear malice or to let any annoyance +rankle when once it had been met and dealt with. In the ordinary +course he would have expressed himself very strongly and felt very +strongly on the subject when one of Humphrey's periodical crises of +debt was disclosed to him, but when he had so relieved his mind he +would have paid up and forgotten all about it. He had done so the +first time, and even the second, after a rather stronger explosion. It +was the third, now nearly two years ago, which had rankled; and the +reason was not only that Humphrey, as seemed quite obvious, was living +in just such a way as had brought him to exceed his income and get into +trouble before, with the consequence that a new crisis and a new demand +would probably arise before long. It was so much in the air that the +Squire was continually calling the gods to witness that _he_ was not +going to pay any more of Humphrey's debts. But he would not have felt +so sore, when he did think about it, if it had not been for Humphrey's +attitude towards him in particular, and towards Kencote and all that it +represented in general. + +The fact was that Humphrey, from the serene heights of his career as a +very smart young man about town, patronised them. It is to be supposed +that he could not help it, that it was an attitude which he would have +corrected if he had been aware of it, for it was quite certain that, +when once his father became aware of it, it would not help him in any +plan he might have to make for further pecuniary assistance. The +Squire merely had a feeling of irritation against Humphrey, which +slumbered while he was away and always became sharper during his +somewhat rare visits to Kencote. It was not yet formulated, but was +nearer to getting to a head every time they came together. The young +man, if he had had an adviser, might have been told that if he acted in +such a way as to bring it to a head, it would be time for him to look +out. + +Humphrey walked into the morning-room with a cool air, as if he had +come from another room in the house instead of from London. He was the +only one of all the Clintons who was dark. He was not so good-looking +as Dick, but he was well set up, and his clothes were always the +perfect expression of the requirements of the moment. So were Dick's, +but Dick wore old clothes sometimes, Humphrey never. He was a young +man of the highest fashion, whenever and wherever he appeared. + +The Squire was standing in front of the fire, as his habit was, Mrs. +Clinton sitting behind her tea-table and Mrs. Graham near her. The +twins were on the sofa on either side of Cicely. Humphrey kissed his +mother, shook hands with his father and Mrs. Graham, and sat down by +his sisters. "The frost is going to break," he said. + +"Is it?" said the Squire. "Well, that's the best news you could have +brought. Look here, we were talking of Lady George Dubec. Do you know +anything about her?" + +"Virginia Dubec?" said Humphrey. "She is a very beautiful lady." + +"Well, but who is she? Who _was_ she? An American they say. Is she +all right?" + +"She was an actress. Musical comedy, or something of the sort. But +that was some years ago. Old George Dubec married her in New York, and +led her an awful life. She used to hunt with the Quorn. Went like a +bird, and didn't care how she went or where she went. People used to +say she wanted to break her neck and get away from George Dubec. But +Dick knows her better than I do. He'll tell you all about her." + +Mrs. Clinton looked up from the teacups, Mrs. Graham arched her brows +and her mouth twitched, the twins caught the sense of surprise and +gazed open-eyed at their father. + +"Dick knows her!" exclaimed the Squire. "Then why on earth----! Does +he know she has settled down here?" + +"_Has_ she settled down here?" asked Humphrey. "Where has she settled, +and what for?" + +"Taken old Marsh's rectory at Blaythorn," said Mrs. Graham. "Going to +hunt with the South Meadshire." + +"That seems an odd proceeding for one of the brightest ornaments of the +Shires," said Humphrey. + +The Squire knit his heavy brows. "We can show her very good sport," he +said, "if that's what she wants. But I should like to know why she +came here, all the same." + +"There's more in this than meets the eye," said Nancy, very unwisely, +for she and Joan were instantly sent out of the room. + +"What are you children doing here?" asked the Squire sharply. "Why +aren't you with Miss Bird? Run along now; you've got lessons to do, or +something." + +"We don't have lessons on Saturday. Can't we stay with Cicely, +father?" asked Joan. + +"I must be going directly," said Cicely, rising. "But I'll come with +you and pay a last farewell to the dear old Starling." + +So the three of them retired, and directly they got out of the room +Joan fell upon Nancy. "What an idiot you are!" she said. "If you had +kept quiet we should have heard everything. When you get hold of a new +speech you must always be poking it in. We've had enough of 'There's +more in this than meets the eye.' I wish you'd get hold of a new one." + +"I own it was foolish of me," said Nancy. "I'm at the mercy of a +phrase. Still, it was quite true. We know who Dick is in love with +now. Of course he got her down here. Humphrey said she was very +beautiful." + +"You are not to talk like that, children," said Cicely. "You know +nothing about these things." + +"Darling!" said Joan, squeezing her arm. "Don't be so frightfully +grown-up. We are not children any longer, and we know a good deal more +than you think." + +"We are a force to be reckoned with now," said Nancy, "and it's no use +trying to keep family secrets from us, sending us out of the room, and +all that. It's too transparent, and makes us talk all the more." + +There was a pause in the morning-room when the three sisters had left. +Humphrey's quick brain was adjusting many things. He knew Dick admired +Virginia Dubec, although it had not hitherto occurred to him that that +admiration betokened anything serious. He suspected also, that since +somebody must have suggested to the lady that she should spend a season +hunting in Meadshire instead of in Leicestershire, that somebody was +probably Dick. But if his brother had not seen fit to disclose that +fact at Kencote, not even the fact of his acquaintanceship with Lady +George Dubec, it was not for him to do so. Therefore, when his father +asked him whether Dick knew that she had come to Blaythorn, and why she +had come, he said, "I don't know in the least. He'll tell you if you +ask him." + +The Squire bent his brows on him. "You said he knew her very well." + +"I didn't say he knew her very well. I said he knew her better than I +did. Lots of people know her. She goes about everywhere in London." + +"She was an actress, you say?" + +"Well, that's what I've heard. It may not be true." + +"It is true," said Mrs. Graham. "Virginia Vanreden. I remember quite +well now. I saw her when I was in New York with my husband ten years +ago. And a lovely creature she was. I shall go and call on her at +once." + +The Squire frowned again. "What sort of an actress was she?" he asked. +"Was she a chorus girl?" + +"It was a play called _The Flower of Florida_," replied Mrs. Graham, "a +very silly play with catchy music, only it didn't catch me, because I +hate music, and I was bored to tears. No, she wasn't a chorus girl, +and she wasn't the Flower of Florida either--I remember the Flower, an +exuberant lady with gold teeth, who seemed to be very popular, but I +should have said she was past her job. This girl danced--oh, I +remember her very well; she was the best of the bunch, and the Flower +grinned at her with her teeth and scowled at her with her eyes while +she was performing. When we got back to New York on our way home she +had caught on, and all the richly gilded youth was crowding to see her. +The Flower had departed, mad with jealousy." + +"A dancing girl!" said the Squire. "Of course! Just the sort that +George Dubec would have married. Well, you may call on her if you +like, Mrs. Graham, but----" + +"Oh, I shall," said Mrs. Graham. "Perhaps she will dance for me. I +liked her immensely. She was certainly beautiful, and I like beauty. +She was quite young too. She can't be very old now." + +"What I want to know is what brings her to Blaythorn," said the Squire, +which closed the discussion, for Cicely's carriage was announced at +that moment, and the welfare of the Mountfield horses being of +paramount importance it was not many minutes before she and Mrs. Graham +had driven away. + +Dick returned shortly after six o'clock, and when he had changed his +clothes, came into the library where his father was sitting at his big +writing-table looking over papers, his gold-rimmed glasses perched on +his straight nose. + +"Oh, here you are," he said, looking over them at his son. "I say, +what's this about Lady George Dubec taking the rectory at Blaythorn?" + +Dick took a cigarette out of his case and went over to the +smoking-table by the fire to get a match. "I've just been to see her," +he said; "she's a friend of mine." + +"Well, but----" The Squire was puzzled, vaguely uneasy, though he +could not have told why. "What on earth has she come _here_ for? Who +brought her? You didn't, I suppose?" + +Dick sat down with rather elaborate unconcern in one of the big +easy-chairs facing his father, who had turned round sideways in his +seat. "I suppose you may say I did bring her, in a way," he said. +"She wanted to do a bit of mild hunting somewhere, and I told her she'd +better try the South Meadshire." + +"But they tell me she's well known with the Quorn and all that sort of +thing." + +"Now I should like to know who told you that," said Dick to himself, +but he did not ask. "She hasn't hunted there for two seasons," he +said. "She wanted something a bit quieter. I said I'd see if I could +find her a smallish house, and I wrote to Wylie, the agent at Bathgate. +Blaythorn Rectory was the only place he could get hold of, and the +stables there aren't much." + +"I should think not." + +"They are better than you'd think, though, and she has only brought +three horses." + +"Why didn't you tell us you were springing this strange lady upon us?" +asked the Squire, as a beginning out of all the questions he wanted to +ask. + +"I haven't been home for a month," said Dick, "and I'm not much of a +correspondent." + +"You didn't say anything about it last night, and you didn't say you +were going over to see her this afternoon." The Squire's uneasiness +was beginning to take shape, and Dick realised with annoyance that he +had given it something to feed on. + +"I'm sorry," he said. "But we were talking about other things. The +poor lady had a brute of a husband--I expect you knew him, didn't you?" + +"Oh yes, I knew him. A pretty sort of rascal he was too." + +"I've always heard so, though I never met him. He behaved like a swine +to her, at any rate, and she's a very charming woman. I think you'll +like her, father. I want to ask the mater to go over and see her as +soon as she can. She doesn't know any one hereabouts, and it's a bit +lonely for her." + +He could not keep the note of appeal, rarely heard from him, out of his +voice, but it escaped the Squire, who only saw himself at issue with +his eldest son--a position he exceedingly disliked. + +"Oh, my dear boy!" he said. "A woman that blackguard George Dubec +picked up off the music-hall stage! You can't be serious." + +"That's not true," said Dick sharply. "Who said she was on the +music-hall stage?" + +"Well, on the stage, anyhow--dancing on the stage--it's the same thing." + +"Who told you that?" + +"Humphrey said she had been on the stage, and Mrs. Graham remembered +seeing her when she was in America." + +"Is Humphrey here?" + +"Yes, he came this afternoon. An American dancer, you know, Dick, and +a woman who would marry George Dubec--really, you might have thought +twice before you brought a person of that sort here; and as for your +mother calling on her--that's out of the question. Surely you can see +that." + +The Squire's tone was conciliatory. He would not have spoken in that +way, upon a subject on which he felt strongly, to any one else in the +world, and when he had spoken he threw a glance at his son, whose face +betokened nothing of all he was thinking at that moment. + +Dick did not speak at once. When he did he said quietly, "When I +suggested to Lady George, who has been a friend of mine for some time, +that she should spend a month or two in this part of the country, I +told her that my people would be glad to see her and do what they could +for her. It never crossed my mind that you would refuse to acknowledge +a friend of mine. It is not my habit to make friends of women I +couldn't introduce you or my mother to." + +"But, my dear boy!" expostulated the Squire. "A woman who has danced +on the stage, the widow of a notorious profligate and swindler--George +Dubec was a swindler, and he wasn't received latterly even in men's +society--decent men. _I_ wouldn't have received him, for one." + +"You can say what you like about George Dubec," replied Dick. "It was +the way he had treated her that made me sorry for her, first of all. +Then I found she was a good woman, as well as a very charming one. +There isn't a soul who knows her--and lots of people know her--who +could have a word to say against her. It isn't generally known that +she was on the stage--it was for a very short time--and I wish to +goodness Humphrey had minded his own business and kept that to himself. +Her father was a planter in the South, and lost everything he had in +the war. She had to support her mother, and that was the only way. +She was very young. I honour her for what she did." + +"Yes, oh yes, that's all right," said the Squire, who was coming more +and more to feel that it was all wrong. "But it's no good, Dick. +Plenty of people in their different lines of life do things that you +can honour them for, as you say, but you don't welcome them to houses +like Kencote. We live a quiet enough life here, I know that. We're +not one of the modern smart country houses, thank God, and never will +be as long as I'm alive. But we're of some account in this part of the +world, and have been for generations. And the long and the short of it +is, Dick, that if you want to make friends with ladies of that sort, I +can't stop you--I don't want to--it's your affair and you're old enough +to look after yourself--but I won't have them at Kencote." + +Inwardly, Dick was raging, and it needed all his self-control to keep +his feelings from showing themselves in his face or in his speech. But +he knew that if he did so everything was lost. It had been no vain +boast that he had made to Virginia Dubec, that he could manage his +father. He had the advantage over him that a man who controls his +speech and his temper always has over a man who habitually controls +neither. For many years past the Squire, who pictured himself as the +wise but undisputed autocrat of his household, had gone to his eldest +son for advice upon any matter that bothered him, and had always taken +his advice. In questions of estate management he had never taken a +step of any importance without consulting Dick, and Dick had been the +virtual ruler of the estate, although the Squire did not know it. In +his father's eyes Dick was a model son. He had never once had to +exercise his paternal authority over him since his schooldays. He knew +that Kencote, which was the apple of his own eye, was also the apple of +Dick's, and that he would have as worthy a successor as any head of an +old-rooted family ever had. In course of years he had come to treat +his eldest son with a respect and consideration which he gave to no +other being alive. Except that none but an eldest son who was some day +to step into his place could have aroused the feelings he had towards +him, his attitude towards Dick was what he might have felt towards a +brother, almost, it might be said, towards an elder brother. + +Now Dick was quite aware of all this, and he knew also that in his last +speech his father had crossed a line that had never yet been crossed +between them. He had done what he did almost every day of his life +with some member or other of his family or household, but had never +done with him since he was a child, because he had never given him the +opportunity. He called it putting his foot down, and although in +reference to other matters Dick had frequently, by the exercise of his +peculiar gift of cool tact, caused the taking up again of a foot that +was announced to have been put down, and by no means despaired of being +able to do so in this instance, he knew that this was not the time to +undertake the removal. Something of his moral supremacy had already +disappeared if his father could take it into his hands to give an +ultimatum against his expressed wishes. There was no knowing how much +further it would be damaged if he were encouraged, as he would be by +opposition now that he had once delivered himself, to back up his +revolt by strong speech. It was what he always fortified himself with +either before or after the process of putting his foot down, and Dick +had no mind to undergo it. + +"Very well," he said quietly. "If you feel like that about it, there's +no more to be said. It's damned awkward for me, but I suppose I took +too much on myself." + +The Squire immediately recrossed the line, on the other side of which +only opposition could possibly make him wish to keep his footing. "Oh, +well," he said, "of course I don't say--in this instance--what I mean +is--well, look here, Dick, I don't say anything one way or the other. +I'll say this, my boy, you've never given me the slightest trouble, and +we've always seen eye to eye in pretty well everything, and where we +haven't at first you have always come to see that I was right in the +end--eh? Better let me think the question over--what? I don't want +you to feel you can't ask your friends to this house, which will be +your own some day." + +"I can hardly help feeling that, can I?" said Dick, with a short laugh. + +"Eh? Well, I must think it over, and talk it over with your mother. +You'd better think it over too, old boy. I can't help thinking you'll +feel you haven't been very wise. We're Clintons of Kencote, you know. +We owe something to ourselves." + +But Dick could stand no more. "All right," he said, rising. "I think +I'll go up and have a bath before dinner. I'm a bit stiff." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SQUIRE FEELS TROUBLE COMING + +Dick went out of the room angry with himself, angry with his father, +and still more angry with his brother. He wanted to meet Humphrey and +have it out with him, and he knew that Humphrey at that hour--about +seven o'clock--would be in the smoking-room. But he went upstairs, not +because he wanted a bath before dinner as he had told his father, and +certainly not because he was stiff after trotting a dozen miles or so +along the roads, but because he knew that it was not wise to have +anything out with anybody unless you had complete command over +yourself. So he went into his big comfortable bedroom, where a bright +fire was burning, lit some candles, and threw himself into an +easy-chair to think matters out. + +That his father would give way, that he was already in process of +giving way, he was well assured. He knew how to work that all right, +and he had taken no false step, as far as he could remember, in dealing +with him. But that little fact of Virginia's having once danced on the +stage, of which she had told him in the early days of their friendship, +as she had told him everything else about her varied, unhappy life, he +had never thought that he--and she--would have to face. If it had not +been for that, his father, so he told himself, would have given way +already. Knowing it, it was surprising that he had left anything to be +said on the subject at all. He need never have known it; so few people +did know it, even in London, where Virginia was beginning to be well +known, or in Leicestershire, where she was very well known indeed. Of +course, Humphrey knew it--he knew all that sort of gossip about +everybody--and Dick's anger against him began to burn as he imagined +the way in which he would have let it out. He was like a spiteful old +woman, fiddling about in drawing-rooms, whispering scandal into other +old women's ears and receiving it into his own in return. + +At this point Humphrey came into the room. "Hullo, old chap!" he said. +"What on earth are you doing up here? It isn't time to dress yet." + +Dick got up quickly out of his chair and faced him. He had better have +gone to him in the smoking-room at once before he had begun to think +things over. "What the devil do you mean by meddling with my affairs?" +he said angrily. + +Humphrey stopped short and stared as if he had held a pistol to his +head. He and Dick and Walter had been closer friends than most +brothers are. Their ways for some time had begun to diverge, but they +had remained friends, and since their boyhood they had never +quarrelled. Such a speech as Dick's was in effect more than a pistol +held to his head. It was a pistol shot. + +"I suppose you mean what I told them downstairs about Virginia Dubec," +he said. + +"Virginia Dubec? Who gave you the right to call her Virginia?" said +Dick hotly, and could have bitten out his tongue for saying it the +moment after, for of course it told Humphrey everything. + +But Humphrey was too deeply astonished at the moment to take in +anything. He thought he knew his brother; he had always rather admired +him, and above all for his coolness. But if this was Dick, passionate +and indiscreet, he did not know him at all, and it was difficult to +tell how to deal with him. + +But Humphrey was cool too, in his own way, hating the discomfort of +passion, and he certainly did not want to have a row with his elder +brother. "I don't know why you're up against me like this," he said. +"I should have thought we knew each other well enough by this time to +talk over anything that wants talking over, sensibly. I'm quite ready +to talk over anything with you, but hadn't we better go and do it +downstairs? They'll be up here putting out your clothes directly." + +"We'll go down to the smoking-room," said Dick, not sorry to have a +minute or two in which to pull himself together. + +So they went downstairs without a word, and along a stone passage to a +big room which had been given over to them as boys, because it was +right away from the other rooms, and in which they knew no one would +disturb them. + +Neither of them spoke at once, but both took cigarettes from a box on a +table, and Humphrey offered Dick a match, which he refused, lighting +one for himself. + +"Lady George Dubec," said Dick--"Virginia Dubec, if you like to call +her so--I've no objection--is a friend of mine, as you know. She +wanted a quiet place to hunt from for a month or two, and I said I +would try to find her a house here. Of course I told her that they +would make friends with her from here. I went to see her this +afternoon, and I come back to find you have been talking scandal about +her, and giving the governor the impression that she's an impossible +sort of creature for respectable people to know. Upon my word, +Humphrey, you ought to be kicked." + +Humphrey grew a shade paler, but he asked quietly, "What scandal do you +accuse me of spreading about her?" + +"Well, it isn't scandal in the sense that it's untrue; but I don't +suppose a dozen people know that she was ever on the stage. It was +only for a few months, and the circumstances of it did her credit. But +if it gets about, it will do her harm. As far as the governor goes, of +course, it puts him up on his hind legs at once, and here am I in the +position of getting this quite charming lady, against whom nobody can +say a word, down here, and my own people refusing to go near her. It's +too bad. If you happened to know that about her, which, of course, is +just the sort of thing you would find out and remember and talk about, +out of all the other things you might say about a woman like that, you +ought to have kept it to yourself. And you would have done if you had +had a spark of decent feeling." + +"I _should_ have kept it to myself if I had had any idea it was through +you she came here." + +"You ought to have kept it to yourself in any case. You know her, you +know what she is, and the first thing you find to blurt out about her +when you hear she has come down here is the very thing that you know +will put everybody against her!" + +"Look here, Dick, there's no sense in you going on blackguarding me +like this. I hadn't a ghost of a notion she was anywhere near here +when I told them what I did. The moment I came into the room the +governor said, 'We've been talking about Lady George Dubec. Do you +know her?' I said, 'Yes, she's a very charming lady.' That was the +very first thing I said. Then I said, 'She was an actress once upon a +time.' There's nothing in that. You say very few people know it. +You're quite wrong. Lots of people know it. Why, even Mrs. Graham +knew it, and had seen her. Nobody thinks anything the worse of her for +it. Why should they? And anyhow it wasn't until afterwards that they +told me that she had come down here. Then I said, 'Dick knows her +better than I do; he'll tell you all you want to know.' Really, old +chap, you're a bit unreasonable." + +Both of them had been standing so far, but now Humphrey, feeling +perhaps that the crisis had been disposed of, threw himself into a +chair. + +So it was, on the surface. Dick stood for a time looking down on the +floor. If it was as Humphrey had said, and he had not known that +Virginia Dubec was in the neighbourhood until after he had let out that +fact about her, it was impossible to carry the attack further. But +Dick was no more satisfied with him than before. The hostility he had +felt remained, and was destined to grow. From that moment the common +ground of easy, tolerant brotherhood upon which they had both stood for +so long was left behind. Dick had begun to criticise, to find cause +for dislike; Humphrey had received an affront, and he did not easily +forgive an affront. + +But the cement of their years of frictionless companionship still held, +and could not be broken in a moment. Dick also took a chair. "Well, +if you didn't know----" he said rather grudgingly. + +"No, I didn't know, and I'm sorry," said Humphrey; "the governor won't +hold out, Dick; he's only got to see her." + +It was the best thing he could have said. Dick was inwardly gratified, +and some of his resentment departed. "You needn't say anything unless +he opens the subject," he said. "But----" + +"Oh, I know what to say if he does," said Humphrey. "I say, Dick, old +chap, is it a case?" + +Dick was not at all ready for this--from Humphrey, although if Walter +had asked him he might have admitted how much of a case it was, and +gained some contentment by talking it over. "I like her, of course," +he said, somewhat impatiently; "I've never disguised it. I suppose one +is permitted to make friendship with women occasionally?" + +"Oh yes," said Humphrey, with rather elaborate unconcern. Then Dick +said he was going up to dress, and left the room without further word, +while Humphrey sat a while longer looking at the fire and turning +things over in his mind. + +Over the dinner-table that evening there was talk of the forthcoming +Hunt Ball, and the one or two others which made the week after +Christmas a short season of gaiety in South Meadshire. The Birketts +were coming to stay for them, the Judge and his wife and unmarried +daughter, and his other daughter, Lady Senhouse, with her husband. +These were the only guests invited so far, and the Squire, who liked a +little bustle of gaiety about him now and again, said that they must +ask one or two more people. + +"We shall be unusually gay this year," he said, "with the ball for +Grace at Kemsale, which is sure to be well done. We must take a good +party over from Kencote. Who can we ask?" + +It was a somewhat extraordinary thing that a question like that could +not easily be answered at Kencote. The Squire very seldom left home, +Mrs. Clinton practically never, and in the course of years the families +from whom they could draw for visitors had dwindled down to those of +relations and county neighbours. The Squire was quite satisfied with +this state of things. There were plenty of people about him with whom +he could shoot, and who would shoot with him; and an occasional dinner +party was all or more than he wanted in the way of indoor +sociability--that, and this yearly little group of balls, the Hunt +Ball, the Bathgate Ball, and whatever might be added to them from one +or other of the big houses round. Kencote had never been one of those +houses. Its women had never been considered of enough importance to +make the trouble and expense of ball-giving worth while, and the men +could get all the balls they wanted elsewhere. Before Cicely was +married her brothers had generally brought a few men down for these +local gaieties, but for the past two years there had been no party from +Kencote. + +"I think Lady Aldeburgh would bring Susan Clinton if you were to ask +her," said Humphrey. "In fact, I'm pretty sure she would." + +Now the Countess of Aldeburgh was a person of some importance in the +social world, and her husband was sprung from the same race as the +Squire, sprung, in fact, some distance back, from Kencote, and +represented, as the Squire not infrequently pointed out, a junior +branch of the family of which he himself was the head. He was +accustomed to speak rather patronisingly of the Aldeburgh Clintons on +that account, although not to them, for he did not know them, the +present Lord Aldeburgh having been a small boy at school at that period +of the Squire's life when he had been about London and known everybody. + +"Are they friends of yours?" he asked, not displeased at the idea. + +"Yes," said Humphrey. "I told Susan Clinton that she ought to see the +home of her ancestors--I was lunching with them--and Lady Aldeburgh +said they couldn't see it unless they were asked." + +"No difficulty about asking them," said the Squire. "Very pleased to +see them, and show them what there is, although I dare say they won't +think much of it after the sort of thing they're accustomed to. They +must take us as they find us. Did you say anything about these balls?" + +"Well, yes, I did--threw out feelers, you know. I think they would +come if mother were to ask them." + +"Oh, write by all means, Nina," said the Squire. "Include Aldeburgh, +of course." + +"Oh, _he_ won't come," said Humphrey. "He never goes where they do. +He doesn't like them." + +The Squire frowned. He knew there were people like that, but he didn't +want to hear about them. According to his old-fashioned ideas, +husbands and wives, if they went visiting at all, ought to go visiting +together. Of course it was different where a man might have to go up +to London for a day or two. There was no necessity always to take his +wife along with him. Or he might perhaps go to a house to shoot. That +was all right. But for women to make a point of going about by +themselves--why, they had much better stop at home and look after their +household duties. "Well, ask him, of course," he said. "He can refuse +if he likes. We can do very well without him. Are either of you boys +going to ask any men?" + +Dick had thought of bringing a friend, Captain Vernon, who had been to +Kencote before and would be very welcome. And Humphrey was going to +ask Lord Edgeware. + +"What, that young fool who lost all his money racing?" asked the Squire. + +"He didn't lose it all," said Humphrey, "and he's had a lot more left +to him." + +"We don't want that sort of person here," said the Squire decisively. + +"All right," said Humphrey. "But he's a very good chap all the same, +and has finished sowing his wild oats." + +"He's an absolute rotter," said Dick. "I quite agree; we don't want +that sort of fellow here." + +Humphrey threw a glance at him and flushed with annoyance, but he said +lightly, "I beg to withdraw his candidature. Is there any objection to +Bobby Trench? He hasn't spent money racing because he has never had +any to spend." + +Dick was silent. The Squire enquired if Mr. Trench was one of Lord +So-and-so's sons, and being informed that he was, said that he had +known his father and should be pleased to see him at Kencote. So the +party was made up, and the men went on to talk about pheasants and +hounds, until the twins came in for dessert, when they went on talking +about pheasants and hounds. + +The Squire and Dick went into the library to go over their farm papers +together almost immediately after dinner, leaving Humphrey with his +mother and the girls in the morning-room. When they had finished they +betook themselves to easy-chairs to talk, as their custom was in the +evening. They were very good friends, and had enough in common to make +their conversation mutually agreeable. Neither of them read much, and +when Dick was at Kencote they usually spent their evenings talking. +But Dick was rather silent to-night, and the Squire was uneasily +conscious of the shadow that had fallen on their intercourse. And when +he was uneasy about anything his uneasiness always found expression. + +"I say, my boy, I hope you don't take it amiss what I said about this +Lady George Dubec this afternoon," he said. "You see my point all +right, don't you?" + +"I see your point well enough," said Dick. "Only I don't think it's +much of a point." + +He was accustomed thus to address his father on equal terms, and the +Squire liked to have it so. He was now only anxious, while having his +own way, to avoid the unpleasantness of leaving a grudge against +himself in Dick's mind. + +"Well, we needn't go all over it again," he said. "I haven't made up +my mind yet. I don't say your mother shan't call and I don't say she +shall. I must think it over. Of course it's a bit awkward for you." + +"It's more than a bit awkward for me," said Dick uncompromisingly. +"When you do think it over you might consider how particularly awkward +it is, after having helped this lady to a house here, to have to tell +her that my people don't consider her respectable enough to know." + +"H'm! Ha!" grunted the Squire, at a loss how to meet this. Then he +made a clutch at his authority. "Well, I think you ought to have asked +me first, Dick," he said, "and not taken things for granted. If I'm +putting you in an awkward position now, it's because you have put me in +an awkward position first." + +There was reason in this, perhaps more than the Squire usually +displayed in discussing a subject in which his feelings were already +engaged, and Dick did not want to go over the ground again until +matters had advanced themselves a stage. + +"She will be at the meet on Monday--driving," he said. "You will see +what she is like, and that she isn't in the least like what you +probably think she is. I should like to introduce you to her, but that +shall be as you please." + +The Squire did not reply to this. He sat looking at the fire with a +puzzled frown on his face. Then he turned to his son and said, +"There's nothing between you and this lady, Dick, is there? You hadn't +got her in your mind last night when you said that you did not want to +marry a young girl?" + +Dick cursed himself inwardly for having made that unlucky speech. He +was not cut out for however mild a conspiracy, and he hated to have to +fence and parry. But he must answer quickly if suspicion, which would +be disastrous at the present stage, were not to rest on him. He gave a +little laugh. "Is that what you have been thinking of?" he asked. "Is +that why you don't want mother to call on Lady George?" + +The Squire had only to push his question, and he would have learnt +everything, for Dick would not have denied Virginia. But he did not do +so. "No, of course not," he said. "But if it were so--if that's how +the land lay----" + +Dick did not tell him that that was not how the land lay. He said +nothing, and the Squire relinquished the subject, not to open it up +again until he was alone with his wife that night. Then his +disquietude came out, for Dick's reply to his question had not +satisfied him, and putting two and two together, as he said, and +impelled towards dreadful conclusions by his habit of making the most +of vague fears, he had now fully convinced himself that the land did +indeed lie in the direction of Lady George Dubec, now settled within a +mile or two, at Blaythorn, and that, unless he could do something to +stop it, a most dreadful catastrophe was about to overtake the house of +Clinton. + +Mrs. Clinton could do little to calm his fears. Privately she thought +that he was making a mountain out of a mole-hill, and that Dick was as +little likely as the Squire himself to marry such a woman as she +imagined Lady George Dubec to be. For she knew how much alike her +husband and her son were in all the essential aims and ambitions of +their lives, although she knew also that Dick had a far cooler head and +a better brain than his father's. For that very reason he was the less +likely to make a marriage which would be beneath the dignity of his +family. She said what she could to persuade her husband that Dick +might be trusted in a matter of this sort, but he was in that stage of +alarm when however much a man may desire to find himself mistaken he +resists all attempts to prove him so. "I tell you, Nina," he said, +"that he told me himself that when he did marry it would be a +middle-aged woman, or words to that effect. And he gets this woman +down here without saying a word to us about it, and they say she's +good-looking--you heard Humphrey say that yourself, and Mrs. Graham +too--and he goes over there this afternoon without mentioning it.--By +Jove! didn't he say he wanted to go and see Jim at Mountfield? Yes, he +did,--you remember--at luncheon. Nina, I'm afraid there's no doubt +about it. Can't you _see_ what a dreadful thing it would be, and that +we _must_ stop it at any cost?" + +"I hope it will not come about," said Mrs. Clinton. "Dick is +level-headed, and he sees questions of this sort in much the same light +as you do, Edward." + +"It would be intolerable," wailed the poor Squire. "And Dick of all +people! I'd have trusted him anywhere. And now I shall have to stand +up against him, and it will be one of the hardest things I have ever +had to do. But I won't let him throw himself away and drag the old +name in the dust if I can possibly prevent it. And, God helping me, I +will prevent it, whatever it costs me. Nina, you are not to go near +this woman. The only way is to keep her at arm's-length. If we stand +firm the affair will fade out, and Dick will forget all about it. He +has always been a good boy. I've been proud of my son. He will thank +me some day for saving him from himself. Good-night, Nina, God bless +you. There's a difficult time coming for us at Kencote, I'm afraid." + +So night and silence fell on the great house. Its master, always +healthily tired after his day, spent mostly in the open, soon forgot +his troubles in sleep; its mistress lay awake for a long time, +wondering if trouble were really going to befall her first-born, who +had gone so far from her since she had first hugged him to her breast. +And in other rooms in the house there were those who lay awake and +wearied themselves with the troubles of life or slept soundly without a +care, some of them of account in the daily comings and goings, some of +very little, but one and all acting and reacting on one another, +concerned in some degree in a common life. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DICK PAYS A SUNDAY VISIT + +It did not take Dick long to find out on that next (Sunday) morning +that his diplomacy had failed, that his father, urged by his fears, had +discovered what he would have hidden from him for a time, or thought he +had discovered it, which came to the same thing, since it was true, and +that he might just as well have announced his intention of marrying +Virginia Dubec, and entered at once upon the struggle which was now +bound to come in any case. + +Nothing was said on either side, and the Squire did his best to behave +as usual. But the attempt was too much for him, and there was no one +who did not know before breakfast was over that there was a disturbance +in the air. He would enter upon a course of conversation with gaiety, +and relinquish it immediately to frown upon his plate. He grumbled at +everything upon the table, and testily rebuked the twins for fidgeting. +They took the rebuke calmly, knowing quite well what it portended, and +were only anxious to discover the cause of the upset. + +"It's this Lady George Dubec," said Joan, when they were alone +together. "There's something fishy about her; it must have come out +after we were sent away yesterday. Father thinks he's Emperor of this +part of Meadshire, and he doesn't like her coming here without his +being consulted." + +"I don't think it's that at all," said Nancy. "I believe it's +Humphrey's debts. Father has got pots of money, but he hates shelling +it out. He was snappy with Humphrey this morning." + +"So he was with everybody but Dick. That proves nothing. A week's +pocket-money that it's this Lady George." + +"Dick said we weren't to bet." + +"Oh, well, perhaps we'd better not, then. He was a brick about the +camera. I don't suppose he's concerned in it, whatever it is. With +father, Dick does no wrong." + +"I'm not sure. Joan, supposing Dick has fallen in love with Lady +George and father is upset about it!" + +"Oh, my dear, do talk sense. Dick in love with a widow!" + +"Stranger things have happened. Anyhow, we'll leave no stone unturned +to find out what it is." + +"Oh, we'll ferret it out all right. It will add to the interest of +life." + +There was one thing that the Squire always did on the rare occasions on +which he found himself in a dilemma, and that was to consult his +half-brother, the Rector. Consequently when, after church, meeting +Mrs. Beach, the Rector's wife, in the churchyard, he asked her if she +and Tom would come up to luncheon, Dick, overhearing him, smiled +inwardly and a little ruefully, and pictured to himself the sitting +that would be held in the afternoon, when the Rector would be invited +into the library and the Squire would unbosom himself of his +difficulties. Dick himself had often joined in these conclaves. +"Let's see what Tom has to say about it," his father would say. "He +has a good head, Tom." Dick would be left out of this conclave, but as +he thought of the line that his uncle was likely to take, he half +wished that he had had a conclave with him himself beforehand. The +Rector was a man of peace, a lovable man, who hated to see any one +uncomfortable, and perhaps, for a churchman, hated a little too much to +run the risk of discomfort himself. Probably he would have +sympathised. Certainly he would have brought no hard judgment to bear +on Virginia, whatever she had done and whatever she had been. However, +it was too late to think of that now, and when Joan asked him at +luncheon if he would go for a walk with them in the afternoon, he took +the bull by the horns and said that he was going to drive over to +Blaythorn. + +"By the by," said Mrs. Beach, not noticing the Squire's sudden frown, +"have you heard that Mr. Marsh has let his rectory to a hunting lady?" + +"Yes," said Dick, "Lady George Dubec. She is a friend of mine, and I'm +going over to see her." + +Never had the Squire spoken with more difficulty. But it behoved him +to speak, and to speak at once. "I am very sorry she has come," he +said. "She is a friend of Dick's in London, but we can't recognise her +here at Kencote." + +Except that the servants were not in the room it was a public throwing +down of the gage of battle. It amounted on the Squire's part to an +affront of his son, the being beloved best in the world, and he would +have put it on him if the whole household had been present. But what +it cost him to do so could be told from his moody fits of silence +during the rest of the meal, his half-emptied plate and his +twice-emptied glass. + +Dick took the blow without flinching, although he was inwardly consumed +with anger, not at the affront to himself, but to Virginia. "We are a +little behind the times at Kencote," he said lightly. "But we shall +probably fall into line by and by." + +The Squire made no answer. He had shot his bolt and had none of the +ammunition of repartee at hand. The awkward moment was covered by the +immediate flow of conversation, but he took little or no part in it, +and it was a relief when the meal was over. + +When the Squire had led the way into the library and shut the door upon +himself and the Rector, he broke out at once. "Tom, you heard what +happened. Dick is out of his mind about this woman. Unless something +can be done to stop it, a dreadful day is coming to Kencote." + +The Rector, tall, fleshy, slow in movement, mild of speech, was +astonished. "My dear Edward!" he exclaimed. "I did not gather from +what passed that--that this meant anything serious." + +"Oh, serious!" echoed the Squire, half distraught. "It's as serious as +it can be, Tom." And he told him in his own decisive manner exactly +how serious it seemed to him to be. "A hunting woman!" he ended up. +"I could have forgiven that. I can't deny that women do hunt, now, who +wouldn't have done in our young days. An American! Well, people do +marry them nowadays--but an American at Kencote after all these +generations! Think of it, Tom! And if that were only the worst! But +a stage dancer! A woman who has shown herself before the public--for +money! And a widow!--a woman who has been married to one of the worst +blackguards in England. You remember him, Tom--at Eton." + +"No," said the Rector. "He was before my time." + +"Before your time--yes, and three or four years older than I am. He'd +have been an old man if he'd been alive now. And it's the widow of +that man my son wants to marry. Isn't it too shameful, Tom? What can +have come over him? He has never acted in this sort of way before. My +boy Dick! In everything that has ever happened to annoy me, he has +always behaved just exactly as I would have my son behave. And now he +brings this trouble on me. Oh, Tom, tell me what on earth I'm to do." + +The poor gentleman was so overcome with distress that it was pitiful to +witness. The Rector knew how he took things--hard at first, and +bringing his heaviest weight of resistance to bear upon the lightest +obstacles, but calming down after he had been humoured a bit, accepting +the inevitable like a sensible man, and making the best of it. But +this was beyond the point at which he could be humoured. It struck at +all that he held dearest in life, the welfare of his son, the dignity +of his house. He would not give way here, whatever distress it cost +him to hold out. + +"Have you seen this lady, Edward?" asked the Rector. + +"Oh, seen her! No," replied the Squire. "Why should I want to see +her? She may be good-looking. They say she is. I suppose Dick +wouldn't have fallen in love with her if she were not, and at any rate +women who are not good-looking don't become pets of the stage, as I'm +told this woman was. Pah! It's beyond everything I could have +believed of Dick. I would rather he had married the daughter of a +farm-labourer--a girl of clean healthy English stock. To bring a +creature from behind the footlights and make her mistress of Kencote--a +soiled woman--that's what she is, even if she has never sold +herself--and who knows that she hasn't? She _did_ sell herself--to a +broken-down _roué_, a man old enough to be her father--for his wretched +title, I suppose. And now she wants to buy Kencote, and my son, Dick, +the straightest, finest fellow a father ever had reason to be proud of. +I tell you, Tom, the world ought to be delivered of these harpies. +They ought to be locked up, Tom, locked up, and the wickedness whipped +out of them." + +"Has Dick said that he wanted to marry her?" asked the Rector, anxious +to bring this tirade, which was gathering in intensity, to an end. + +"It's as plain as it can be. He has brought her down here, and he +wants us to take her up." + +"Well, but is that all, Edward? Surely you have more to go on than +that, if you have made up your mind that he wants to marry her." + +"I _have_ more to go on. He told me only two nights ago that he was +quite ready to marry, and that he wouldn't marry a girl. That's plain +English, isn't it? And this comes just on top of it. Why, he had her +down here--fixed it all up for her--and never said a word to us till +after we'd heard from outside that she was there. There are a lot of +things. I can put two and two together as well as anybody, and I +haven't a doubt of it. And I asked him definitely, yesterday, and he +didn't deny it." + +"He didn't acknowledge it, I suppose." + +"I tell you he didn't deny it. He gave me an evasive answer. That +isn't like Dick. She has had a bad influence on him already. Don't +waste time in trying to persuade me that black is white, Tom. Tell me +how I am to stop this." + +The Rector could not tell him how to stop it. He knew very well that +Dick was a stronger man than his father, and that if he had made up his +mind to do a thing he would do it. But he still doubted whether he had +made up his mind to do this particular thing. He thought that the +Squire was probably alarming himself needlessly, and with all the art +that lay in his power he tried to persuade him that it was so. "Young +men," he ended, "do make friends with women they wouldn't want to +marry. You know that is so, Edward. It is no use shutting your eyes +to facts." + +"Yes, but they don't bring them down to their homes for their mothers +and sisters to make friends with," retorted the Squire. "It's the last +thing Dick would do, and I'd rather he did what he's doing now, bad as +it is, than do a thing like that. He's hypnotised--that's what it +is--he thinks she's a good woman--everything she ought to be----" + +"And perhaps she _is_ a good woman, Edward, and everything she ought to +be," interrupted the Rector, speaking more emphatically than was his +wont, for in his simple unworldliness it had not occurred to him that +his last words could bear the interpretation the Squire had put upon +them, and he was rather scandalised. "I say that you ought to hold +your judgment until you have seen her, and know something of her at +first hand. I do not believe that Dick would expect his family to make +friends with a lady who was not above reproach, and I certainly never +meant for a moment to imply that he would do such a thing as make love +to a woman he did not intend to marry. When I said that men make +friends with women, I meant no more than I said." + +"Well, you're a parson," said his brother, "and you've got to keep your +eyes shut to certain things that go on, I suppose." + +"No, Edward, that is not the duty of a parson," returned the Rector. +"I shut my eyes to nothing. It seems to me that you do. It seems to +me that you shut your eyes to what you know of Dick's character. You +picture to yourself a vulgar, scheming adventuress. I say that if Dick +is in love with this lady, as you say he is, she is not that, but +something very different, and I say again that you ought to withhold +your judgment until you have seen her." + +"As far as seeing her goes," grumbled the Squire, "there's nothing +easier than that. I shall see her at the covert-side, and I dare say I +shall see her scampering all over the county covered with mud, and +getting in the way of the hounds. Women are an infernal nuisance in +the hunting-field. Well, you don't give me much comfort, Tom. Still, +it does one some good to talk over one's troubles. I'm afraid this is +going to be a big trouble--the biggest I've ever had in my life." + +"Then don't meet it half-way," said the Rector. "You don't know for +certain that Dick wants to marry her, and if he does she can't be +anything like you have imagined her. I'm afraid I must go now, Edward. +I have to look in at the Sunday-school." + +"Well, good-bye, Tom, my dear fellow. Tell 'em in the Sunday-school to +obey their parents. Yes, for this is _right_, by George! the Bible +says. And so it is; if children would obey their parents, half the +trouble in the world would disappear." + +Dick was not best pleased, when he drove up to the door of Blaythorn +Rectory, to hear that her ladyship had gone for a walk with Miss +Dexter, and would not be back for an hour or more. He had not told her +that he was coming over, and had not intended to do so. Horses were +not taken out of the Kencote stables on Sundays without necessity. He +said he would wait, and went into the drawing-room to get what +consolation he could out of his own thoughts until Virginia should +return. + +He had been there about half an hour, sometimes walking up and down the +room, sometimes reading a few pages of a book and throwing it +impatiently on one side, sometimes sitting staring moodily into the +fire, when he heard voices in the hall. A look of relief came over his +face and he got up, prepared to greet Virginia, when the door was +opened and Mrs. Graham was shown into the room. She was dressed in her +usual serviceable walking clothes and had a dog-whip in her hand, +although she had left her dogs for the time being outside. + +"Good gracious, Dick!" she exclaimed. "They told me there was nobody +here." + +"The other maid let me in," said Dick. He could not for the life of +him prevent himself feeling and looking shamefaced. + +Mrs. Graham took no notice of it. She walked straight to a little +writing-table in the corner of the room and sat down. "As I suppose +you are wondering what on earth I am doing here," she said, "I'll tell +you. I had a letter this morning from Anne Conyers, who asked me to +come and see Lady George, as she didn't know a soul in the county. I'm +only too pleased to; we're such a set of rustics here that it does us +good to get somebody new, if they're not nincompoops like those people +we've just got rid of at Mountfield. I thought I would drop in this +afternoon. If she's sensible she won't mind my coming in these +clothes. If she isn't I don't want to know her. You know her; you +don't think she'll mind, eh?" + +"Oh, of course not." + +"I'm just going to write her a note asking her to dine to-morrow. Jim +and Muriel are coming, and Roddy Buckstone. Will you and Humphrey +come, Dick? We don't want too many women." + +"I don't know about Humphrey. I shall be pleased to." + +"Well, that's all right. You might take a message from me to Humphrey." + +"I'd rather you wrote a note to him--and posted it." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Graham in a voice that invited explanation. + +But Dick gave none. + +"Lady George has a friend staying with her--Miss Dexter," he said. +"You'd better ask her too, I think." + +"Oh, of course. Thank you for telling me. Miss Dexter." + +She wrote her note, fastened and directed it, dwelling rather +deliberately on the process as she neared its completion. She seemed +as if she were turning over in her mind something to say, but finally +rose, and said, "Well, I suppose she'll get that when she comes in. +I'll take myself and the dogs back to Mountfield now." + +"Why don't you wait and see her?" asked Dick, rather grudgingly, for he +didn't want Mrs. Graham to stay. "She can't be long now." + +Mrs. Graham looked at him shrewdly. "I don't think I will," she said. +"She'll be out with the hounds to-morrow, I suppose. Look here, Dick, +I don't know whether I'm a fool to say anything or not, and I don't +want to mix myself up in other people's business, but Anne Conyers told +me that Lady George was a friend of yours, and that you had got her +this house. We'll see that she gets on here all right." + +She gave him a knowing nod which made him reply-- + +"Oh, you mean that there's likely to be trouble at Kencote. Well, I +don't mind telling you that there _is_ trouble. My father announced +to-day before Tom and Grace and the whole family that Lady George Dubec +might be good enough for me to know in London, but she wasn't good +enough for him or anybody to know at Kencote." He spoke bitterly, and +as Mrs. Graham, who knew him well, had never heard him speak of his +father. + +"Did he?" she said. "Well, that's what, if I were a man, I should call +rather thick. Still, he'll probably come round, and if he doesn't he +is not the only person in South Meadshire, though he sometimes behaves +as if he thought he was. Good-bye, Dick; to-morrow at eight o'clock, +then. I'll write to Humphrey, though I shan't break my heart if he +doesn't come." + +Dick let her out at the front door, where she was vociferously greeted +by her pack, and then returned to the drawing-room. "And I wonder what +_she'll_ be thinking as she goes home," he said to himself. + +Virginia came into the room alone when she and Miss Dexter returned. +Dick could hear her glad little cry of surprise outside when she was +told he was there, and it made him catch his breath with a queer +mixture of sensations. She brought a cool fresh fragrance into the +room with her, and he thought he had never seen her look sweeter, with +her rather frail beauty warmed into sparkling life by the exercise she +had taken in the sharp winter air and her pleasure at finding him there +on her return. + +Sitting by her side on the sofa he told her what had happened, and she +took the news thoughtfully and sadly. "He must be rather terrible, +your father," she said, "and cleverer than you thought too, Dick, if he +suspects already what is between us." + +"Oh, I suppose it's I who am not so clever as I thought myself," he +said. "When he asked me point-blank I couldn't tell him a lie. But I +own I never thought he would ask me. It was from something I had said +to him the night before, about not wanting to marry a youngster. I +don't know why on earth I was fool enough to say it, and put him on the +scent. I suppose I was thinking such a lot of you, my girl. I can't +get you out of my head, you know. But the fact is I'm not cut out for +a conspirator, Virginia, and now that all my carefully laid plans have +come to nothing, I'm not sure that I'm not rather relieved." + +"You think they have quite come to nothing, Dick?" + +"It looks like it. We shall know to-morrow. I still think--what I've +always thought and built upon--that if he once sees you----" + +"Dear Dick! But it's rather late for that now, if he has heard all +about me, and has made a picture of me in his mind." + +"Well, it's such a preposterous picture, that the reality can't help +striking him. We won't do anything until after we know what has +happened at the meet. And by the by, there's a dinner invitation for +you for to-morrow evening." He told her about Mrs. Graham and gave her +her note. + +"That is very kind of Mrs. Graham," she said. "I forgot to tell you +that I knew her sister-in-law. I'm afraid we shan't have much +opportunity of talking there, Dick." + +So they talked where they were for a long time, until the dusk fell and +the maid came in with the lights and the tea, and Miss Dexter after +her, and the result of their talk was that they felt things were not as +bad as they looked. Dick's father would relent some day, and until he +did they had each other. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE MEET AT APTHORPE COMMON + +The meet on Monday was at Apthorpe Common, a distance of nine miles +from Kencote, and the three men appeared at breakfast in boots and +breeches. The Squire always did so, and donned his red coat, with the +yellow collar of the South Meadshire Hunt, when he dressed for the day. +Dick came to breakfast in a tweed jacket, and Humphrey in a quilted +silk smoking-coat, and both had linen aprons tied round their waists to +preserve their well pipe-clayed breeches. But the Squire belonged to +an older generation, having been born when boots and breeches still +lingered as the normal dress of country gentlemen, and a red coat was +as easy in the wearing as any other coat. He looked a fine figure of a +man, as he stood up at the end of the table to read prayers to his +household, and ready to go with the best if he got a horse up to his +weight. + +At a quarter to ten punctually the Squire stood at the front door +enveloped in a heavy ulster, a serviceable but not very shiny hat on +his head, a cigar in his mouth, drawing on his gloves, and looking over +the handsome pair of greys in his phaeton. Humphrey, whose hat lacked +nothing in polish, stood by him in a fur coat. As the stable clock +chimed the quarter, the Squire turned to the butler, who stood behind +him with a rug, and asked where Captain Clinton was. + +"Dick is driving himself," said Humphrey. "He started five minutes +ago." + +The Squire's face darkened, but he climbed up to his seat and took the +reins. Humphrey got up by his side, and with a clatter and jingle they +started, while the groom swung himself into his seat behind. + +If Humphrey's thoughts had not been taken up with his own affairs he +might have felt sorry for his father. It was an unfailing custom at +Kencote that when there were only three to go to a meet far enough off +to necessitate a drive, they should go in the phaeton. The Squire +enjoyed these drives, with his eldest son sitting by his side, +especially on such a morning as this, soft and mild, and holding out +every prospect of a good day at the sport that he loved. Now he drove +along at his usual steady pace without saying a word. The brightness +had gone out of his day's pleasure before it had begun, and he would +just as soon as not have turned his horses' heads and gone home again. +There had been constraint between him and Dick since the day before, +but not unfriendliness, and he had thought that perhaps they might have +come as closely together as usual during this drive, or at any rate +have buried for a time the thought of what lay between them in the +prospect of the day's sport. But Dick had gone off alone without a +word, and his heart was sore within him. Dick might have spared him +this, he thought. It meant, as nothing else he could have done would +have meant, that their pleasant, almost brotherly, intimacy was to +cease. Each was to go his own way, until one or the other of them gave +in. And the Squire knew, although he may not have said as much to +himself, that Dick could support this sort of estrangement better than +he could. Dick had his friends, scores of them, and when he came down +to Kencote he was only leaving them behind him; while to him, +surrounded by his family, but very much alone as far as the society of +men of his own interests was concerned, Dick's visits to his home were +the brightest times in his life, when everything that was to be done +seemed better worth the doing, because so much of it was done in his +company, and the pleasures of life were redoubled in value because they +shared them and could talk about them, beforehand and afterwards. + +His mind too was turned to what lay before him, which he had thought +about as little as possible. He was going to where he could see this +woman who had enslaved Dick. She was to be there, spoiling for him +even the pursuit he liked best. And Dick no doubt would be at her +side, piloting her, making himself conspicuous by his attentions to the +whole county, providing food for gossip, perhaps for scandal. If this +creature was to be hanging to his coat-tails, his son, who had followed +hounds since his childhood, and whom he had always taken a pride in +seeing well mounted and going with the best of them, would be pointed +at as a man who had always been in the first flight until he had been +caught by a woman, but was now of no account in the field. The Squire +had seen that happen before, and it covered him with shame and anger to +think that it would happen to Dick. + +His anger was directed against Virginia alone. He felt none against +his son, but only a kind of thwarted tenderness, which would have led +him to do anything, short of allowing him to throw himself away and +spoil his life, to bring back the old happy state of feeling between +them. It crossed his mind that he might even be obliged to let him +have his way in this matter. He knew that he would be sorely tried if +he were to hold out, and that he might not have the power to do so. He +thought that perhaps he would do as Tom had advised and see this woman +first, see if there were any saving grace in her which would enable him +to give way, and comfort himself with the idea that things might have +been worse. At any rate, he was bound to see her shortly, and without +making any decision he could dismiss the subject from his mind now and +prepare to enjoy himself as much as possible under the circumstances. +He sat up straighter, drew the reins more firmly and laid his whip +lightly across the flanks of the greys. "Well, Humphrey," he said as +the horses quickened their pace, "I think we shall have a good day. +Scent ought to lie well, and we're sure to find a fox in that spinney +of Antill's. I've never known it draw blank yet." + +"Yes, we ought to get off pretty quick," said Humphrey, also rousing +himself. "I say, I'm in rather a quandary." + +"Well, what is it?" asked the Squire rather shortly. Humphrey's +quandaries were generally of a financial nature, and he had no wish to +add one of them to his present troubles. + +"Mrs. Graham has asked me to dine to-night." + +"Well, why not? You can have something to take you over." + +"Oh yes. Dick is going. It is to meet Lady George Dubec."' + +The Squire's face darkened instantly. Here he was, plunged straight +into it again, when he wanted to free his mind for the time being of +Lady George Dubec and anything that had to do with her. + +"Mrs. Graham seems to have lost no time," he said. "She hadn't called +on her on Saturday. I suppose she must have done so yesterday. And +she knows perfectly well that I don't want to have anything to do with +the woman. Are Jim and Cicely going?" + +"I don't know. She only mentions Dick." + +"If she mixes Cicely up with--with this lady, I shall be very much +annoyed. Not that I can say anything, I suppose, now she's married, +but I think Mrs. Graham might respect my wishes a little more. Well, +you can do as you like. I suppose the modern way is to disregard the +wishes of the head of the house entirely." + +"I don't want to disregard your wishes," said Humphrey. "I think as +long as one remains at home one ought to respect them." + +The Squire was mollified at this, but he only said rather gruffly, +"Well, if you can put up with eating your dinner at home this evening, +I'd rather you should. Dick has taken the bit between his teeth, and +he certainly doesn't think that my wishes should be respected. +Apparently nothing that I can say will influence him. He seems to me +to be heading straight for the nastiest kind of fall. What sort of a +woman is this, Humphrey? You said you knew her, didn't you?" + +"Oh, I've met her," said Humphrey. "She's a very pretty woman. Nobody +can deny that." + +"People who have made a success on the stage generally are," said the +Squire; "at least, they used to be in my time. Is she--well, is she a +lady?" + +"Oh Lord, yes," said Humphrey. "I'm sorry I let out that about her +having been on the stage. You couldn't possibly guess it to look at +her. Dick tackled me about it yesterday and said that nobody knew it. +People do know it, but there's no necessity to spread it all over the +place." + +The Squire thought for a moment. Then he put his question point-blank. +"Does Dick want to marry this woman, or doesn't he?" + +"If you had asked me that two days ago," replied Humphrey glibly, "I +should have smiled at the idea. Now, I believe he does." + +"What has made you change your mind, then?" + +"Well, his getting her down here, for one thing. Then, as I told you, +he was furious with me for letting out what I did about her. In fact, +if I hadn't kept my head we should have had a devil of a row about it; +and Dick and I have never had a row since we were kids." + +The Squire digested this information. It confirmed his worst fears and +made his heart the heavier. "Can't you help to stop it?" he asked +shortly. "You and he have always been pretty good friends." + +"I can't do any more than the twins could," replied Humphrey. "As I +told you, we nearly had a row about it as it is. If I tried to +interfere we should have one without a doubt." + +"I suppose you don't want a thing like that to happen in the family?" +asked the Squire, throwing him a side glance. + +"Of course I don't want it," said Humphrey. "I've nothing against the +lady as she is, but I don't want her for a sister-in-law." + +"I should think not," said the Squire emphatically. "Well, I suppose +_I'm_ the only person who can stop it, and by George! I will." + +Again he stroked the greys with his whip, and their pace quickened. +"Look here, Humphrey," he said, "tell me how on earth I _can_ stop it." + +Humphrey smiled into his thick fur collar. It was so like his father, +to issue a bold statement of his intentions and then immediately to ask +for advice as to how to act. But he had not been accustomed to ask +advice of Humphrey. + +"Well, it doesn't seem to be a very difficult matter," he said. + +"What do you mean?" asked the Squire shortly. "He's not paying much +regard to my wishes now." + +"I dare say you can't stop him amusing himself with the lady," said +Humphrey. "I don't know why you should want to. If you make it +awkward for him he'll be all the keener; if you give him his head he's +quite likely to come to his senses. But it will be a different thing +if it comes to marrying." + +"Why?" + +"Well, what's he to marry on--his pay as a captain in the Guards? What +can any of us marry on if you don't see us through?" + +The Squire's attitude towards his eldest son was such that, through all +his anxiety and all his cogitations, he had never yet thought of this. +He was a rich man, and he gave all his sons good allowances and Dick a +very handsome one. He did this as a matter of course, and never looked +upon it otherwise than as rightly due from him. And, equally of +course, he was prepared largely to increase the allowance when Dick +should marry. But it was quite true that there was nothing to prevent +him from stopping it altogether. If the worst came to the worst he +could exercise the power of the purse, but it would be extremely +repugnant to him to do it, and the suggestion struck him like a +temptation to act unworthily. "What on earth put that into your head?" +he asked. + +Humphrey was a little taken aback by his tone. He was annoyed with +Dick, as he had never been annoyed with him since their childhood, +although he had often been jealous of his seniority. But they had been +on such good terms together that he could not feel quite comfortable in +putting a spoke in his wheel, as he felt he was now doing. + +"It doesn't want much putting there," he said. "The idea of marriage +does cross one's mind occasionally, and one naturally wonders what you +would do to make it possible. It wouldn't be possible at all without +you." + +"Well, I should be very sorry to have to take a step like that," said +the Squire after further consideration. "And I don't want to talk +about it." + +Now they came to the foot of a long hill, bounded on one side by a deep +wood, on the other by open grass-land, which fell away gradually, and +some distance off swelled again into a long undulating rise, dotted +with pieces of woodland, arable fields, and farms here and there, and +ended in the far distance in a range of hills lying mistily under +parallels of soft grey clouds. It was the best bit of country the +South Meadshire could boast, and to the Squire surveying it largely, as +he walked his horses up the hill, every square mile within reach of the +eye spoke of some remembered episode in the long course of years during +which he had enjoyed his best-loved sport. + +There--a line of grey at the bottom of the green valley--was the brook +into which he and his pony had soused head over ears when as a small +boy he had thought to follow his grandfather over a place which that +redoubtable sportsman himself had felt some qualms about taking. The +old man, warned by the shouts, had looked round and trotted back to the +brook, where he must have made up his mind that neither the small boy +nor the small pony was in danger of drowning, for he had said, "Well, +if you're such a fool as to get in, let's hope you're not too much of a +fool to get out," and had turned his horse's head and galloped off +without further ado. There was the covert from which a cunning old dog +fox had been hunted three times in two seasons, and had given them +three separate runs, which were talked of still when the old stagers of +the South Meadshire got together at one end of the table over the port, +although it was nearly thirty years ago. There was the fence over +which, as a hard-riding subaltern, at the end of a season during which +he had hunted for the most part in Leicestershire, he had broken the +back of the best mare he had ever owned, through over-anxiety to show +his neighbours what riding straight to hounds really meant, and nearly +broken his own neck into the bargain. There was the grass field in +which, many years before, although it seemed like yesterday, hounds had +pulled their fox down, and Dick, riding his first pony, had been in at +the death, had won his first brush, and had been duly blooded. He +smiled within himself and remembered how his little boy had ridden home +at his side with the smears on his face and shown himself proudly to +his mother, and how, forgetting his new-found manhood, he had howled +when it was proposed to wash them off. + +There were other exploits of Dick's and of his other sons', who had all +taken to the sport as he would have had sons of his take to it, which +this wide stretch of country recalled. In fact, Dick and he, driving +up this long hill to a meet at Apthorpe, or beyond it, had been wont to +recall episodes which they both remembered, pointing out this and that +spot, near or far. He liked best to recall the doings of his boys, +although his own and those of his hard-bitten, redoubtable old +grandfather had not been forgotten in the long tale. It was as if a +sudden chill had struck him when the thought came to him, that if he +and Dick were to be kept apart by what had come between them, they +would perhaps never drive together again up the Apthorpe Hill. The +hoarse note of a motor-horn behind him, and the necessity of drawing to +the side of the road as the machine swirled by, enabled him to relieve +his feelings by an expression of abhorrence stronger than he usually +allowed himself, although his ordinary language on the use of +motor-cars in connection with hunting did not lack vigour. And this +particular motor-car contained the Master of the South Meadshire +himself, who waved to him as he passed, and received no very warm +greeting in return. The Squire had had a grudge against Mr. Warner +during the greater part of his life. His grandfather had kept the +hounds for forty years, hunted them himself, and spent money lavishly +on the upkeep of kennels and general equipment. When he had died the +Squire had been too young to follow him, and Mr. Warner, who had made +his money in trade as the Squire averred, although he had actually +inherited it, and was but recently come into the county, had taken +them. He was now an old man getting on for eighty, and had kept them +ever since, hunting with them as regularly and riding as straight as he +had ever done--a wonderful old man, already beginning, in his lifetime, +to pass into a proverb, as the Squire's grandfather, Colonel Thomas +Clinton, had done. But the Squire had never had a good word for him. +Of all the positions in life which he might have filled, he felt it +hard that the Mastership of the South Meadshire should have been kept +out of his hands. And that was his grudge against Mr. Warner, +carefully nourished by that gentleman's late acceptance of mechanical +traffic, and sundry other causes which need not be enquired into. + +Other motor-cars passed them before they got to the top of the hill, +and the Squire had a word or two of condemnation to spare for each, as +they forced him to draw aside and control his horses, which shared his +dislike of the new-fangled things. + +At the top of the rise the wood curved away to the right, and there was +nothing before them but the wide gorse-speckled common, with the broad +highroad running through it. They drove on for a mile and came to a +high-lying inn by the roadside, appropriately named the "Fox and +Hounds," with a sign-post and a water-trough in front of it, and a +broad piece of grass, which was now the centre of the best of all +English country sights in the winter. The hounds were grouped about +their huntsman, George Winch, a grey-whiskered, weather-tanned man +sitting upright on his tall bay horse, the two of them quiet and +unmoved, ready for what was to come, but not unduly excited over it, +and his three young Whips, two of them his sons and the other his +nephew. The Master had already hoisted himself on to his horse and sat +as straight as his huntsman, although he was twenty years his senior. +And all round were the faithful followers of the South Meadshire, some +of whom had ridden with those hounds for as long as, or longer than, +the Squire himself, some of whom had only begun that season. The men +were mostly in pink, with the yellow collar, and dressed for work and +not for show, their breeches spotless, their boots well polished and +their tops of the right mellow shade, but their coats not of the +newest, and their hats lacking the mirror-like shine which was imparted +to those of the young bloods such as Humphrey. There was a sprinkling +of ladies, amongst whom was Mrs. Graham, in a workmanlike habit that +had seen better days, but many more of them had come on wheels than on +horseback. There were boys on ponies, their round hats jammed on to +their heads, their round legs in wrinkled cloth gaiters, and the +Master's two little granddaughters riding astride. On the outskirts of +the loosely knit crowd was a good sprinkling of farmers, solid elderly +men in hard felt hats, drab coats, corduroys and brown gaiters, and +slim, active young men in smarter editions of the same attire, but not +always so well mounted. + +The Squire drove up to the front of the inn, where his horse and +Humphrey's were being walked up and down by their grooms, and climbed +down from his seat with a side-look that was half a frown at the crowd. +Amongst the women on horseback he saw none that he did not know, and +hoped that the dreaded lady had not come; but immediately he had +satisfied himself that she was not riding he caught sight of Dick, +already mounted, standing by a smart little pony-cart which contained +two women, and his frown deepened. When he was on his horse and had +seen that his flask and sandwich-case were in place, he had another +moment of indecision. Through all his discomfort and annoyance, his +heart yearned towards his son, and he was alternately and from minute +to minute swayed by opposite impulses, to hold out firmly for Dick's +sake or to give way for his own. As he walked his horse on to the +green it was in his mind to cross over to where Dick was standing by +the pony-cart and, with what graciousness he could, end it all. + +But he was stopped by one of his old friends, who had something quite +unnecessary to say about the weather and the prospect of the day's +sport, and before he could disengage himself he saw Dick leave the +pony-carriage and the two ladies, and come towards him. He did not pay +much attention to his friend, but sat on his horse facing his son. He +saw Dick also stopped, and waited impatiently, hoping that he was +coming to speak to him. Then he saw a very smartly attired young man +trot up to the pony-carriage, arms and legs akimbo, to be greeted, as +it seemed to him, with complete cordiality by the lady who held the +reins, but not so effusively by the lady by her side. This young man +was his pet abomination, the vacuous, actress-hunting, spendthrift son +of a rich father, already notorious for his "goings-on," and likely to +be more so if he continued as he had begun. He heard his loud foolish +laugh over something he had said to the lady, or something she had said +to him, and saw, although he could not hear, her laugh in reply. Then +he saw him take out his cigarette-case and offer it to her, and at that +he wrenched round his horse's head and exclaimed, apparently in answer +to a question which he had not heard addressed to him, much to his +friend's surprise, "No, I'm damned if I do." + +He had seen enough. If that vicious young fool was the sort of person +the woman was on terms of intimacy with, then she was just what he had +pictured, and there was no saving grace in her. A cigarette-smoking, +loose-tongued, kind-to-everybody creature of the stage! He would +rather be at enmity with his son all his days, he would rather see him +dead, than married to such a woman. + +He walked his horse, not knowing where he was going to, except that he +wanted to get as far as possible away from Lady George Dubec, to the +outskirts of the crowd and beyond them, his mind in a ferment of +disgust. He heard the creak of saddlery and the thud of a horse's +hoofs on the hard turf behind him. Dick trotted up to him, and said, +as he reined up his horse, "I wish you'd let me introduce you to Lady +George." He spoke as if there had been no controversy between them on +the subject. He knew his father, and he was giving him his chance. +Two minutes earlier and the Squire would have taken it. Now he turned +round sharply, his face red. "I have no wish to be introduced to Lady +George, now or at any time," he said. + +"Oh, all right!" said Dick coldly, and turning his back on him, trotted +off again. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DICK LEAVES KENCOTE AND MAKES A DISCOVERY + +There was not much pleasure for the Squire that day, although they +found a fox without delay, and with one check hunted him across the +best of the South Meadshire country and killed him in the open after a +fast run of forty minutes. The hounds got him out of the spinney where +he was known to reside, in no time, but he immediately took refuge in +another and a larger one half a mile or so off. The hunt straggled +after him, those who had been on the wrong side of the covert when the +music of the hounds first announced their prompt discovery riding hard +to make up for lost time, the carts and carriages streaming along the +road. Then there was a pause while the hounds worked to and fro +through the wood, and the groups formed again and waited for what +should happen. The Squire, more by instinct than design, for his +thoughts were on far other matters, edged down the skirts of the wood +to where he could see the fox break cover if he behaved as his +experience told him most foxes would behave in like circumstances, and +keeping well under cover he soon saw the cunning nose poking out of the +brushwood and the furtive red form steal out to cross the road and make +a bold bid for freedom. Just at that moment, as he was preparing to +give the view-hulloa when my gentleman should have taken irrevocably to +the open, a cart drove smartly round the opposite corner of the wood +and pulled up, but not before the fox had seen it and slunk cautiously +back into shelter. The Squire smothered a strong exclamation of +disgust, but gave it vent and added something to it when he recognised +the cart and its driver. If Lady George Dubec had come into the South +Meadshire country to head the South Meadshire foxes, as well as to +annoy him grossly in other ways, then good-bye to everything. But she +should be told what she had done. With rage in his heart and a black +scowl on his face he cantered along the strip of grass by the roadside, +and lifting his hat and looking the offending lady straight in the +face, said in an angry voice, "Would you mind keeping behind the +hounds, madam? You have just turned the fox back into covert." Then +he turned his back and rode off, leaving Virginia and Miss Dexter +looking at each other with horrified faces. + +However, Reynard's caution did not save him long. He was bustled out +of shelter again within ten minutes, and realising that his only chance +of escape was to run for it, run he did and gave the hounds all they +knew to catch him. The Squire was away with the first, and, riding +hard and straight, did for what would have been otherwise a blissful +forty minutes succeed in losing the sharp sense of his unhappiness, +although black care was perched all the time behind him, and when the +fox had been killed, seized on him with claws so sharp that he had no +heart left for anything further, and leaving the hounds to draw a gorsy +common for another fox turned his horse's head round and rode off home. + +Humphrey, not far away at the start, had been in at the finish, with +half a dozen more, but he had seen nothing of Dick, and no one who had +set out to follow on wheels had been anywhere within sight for the last +half-hour. The Squire felt a grim satisfaction in the thought of Lady +George Dubec left hopelessly out of it, but he also thought of Dick +missing the best run, so far, of the season to keep behind with her, +and his satisfaction turned into sad disgust. His long ride home was +the most miserable he had ever taken, and he wished before it was ended +that he had seen out the day, on the chance of another burst of +excitement which for the time would have eased his pain. + +He reached Kencote about three o'clock, and expected to find the house +empty, for he knew that Mrs. Clinton had been going to lunch at +Mountfield and he did not expect her to be back yet. But she met him +in the hall and said, "I thought you might be home early, Edward, so I +did not go out." + +Now the Squire was never home early. He always saw out the day's +sport, however bad it might be, and the number of times he had returned +from hunting before dark during the last thirty years might have been +counted on his ten fingers. He looked at his wife apprehensively and +followed her into the morning-room, where she turned to him. + +"Dick has gone," she said. + +He stared at her, not understanding. + +"He came back about twelve," she went on, "and changed his clothes. +His servant was out, but he left word for him to pack and follow him to +Blaythorn. He wrote you a letter before he went." + +"Where is it?" asked the Squire. "Didn't you see him before he went? +Didn't you speak to him?" He went out of the room and into his own, +and Mrs. Clinton followed him. + +"I did see him," she said, as the Squire went to his writing-table +where an envelope was lying on the silver-mounted blotting-pad. "He +said that you had made it impossible for him to remain at home, and he +bade me good-bye, but he did not tell me anything more." + +But the Squire was not listening to her. He turned the page of the +letter and then put it into her hand. "Read that," he said. + + +"Dear Father" [it ran], + +"I had hoped at least that you would have consented to meet the woman I +am going to marry. If you had you would have seen how unlike she is to +your ideas of her and that I am doing myself honour by my choice. You +have made the situation impossible now, and I cannot return to Kencote +until you consent to receive my affianced wife with the respect due to +her. + +"Your affectionate son, + "RICHARD CLINTON." + + +The Squire's face was purple, but he controlled the violent expression +of his anger. "His affianced wife!" he exclaimed scornfully. "So now +we have it all, and I was right from the beginning. Well, if he waits +till I receive her he may wait till I'm in my coffin. I told him this +morning I would not recognise her, now or at any time, and I'll stick +to my word. He has chosen to fight me, and he will find that I'm +ready." He spoke bitterly, but firmly, and as if he meant everything +that he said. + +Mrs. Clinton laid the letter on the table. Her face was serious, and +paler than its wont. "Have you seen her, Edward?" she asked. "Is she +so impossible?" + +"Seen her! Impossible!" echoed the Squire, with a return to the +unbridled violence he usually showed when he was disturbed. "Yes, I've +seen her, and she's as impossible as a wife for the heir of Kencote as +any woman on the face of the earth--a painted hussy, hand in glove with +the worst sort of vicious loafer, puffing cigarettes in the face of a +whole crowd of respectable people, shamelessly breaking up sport--oh, +I've seen her, and seen enough of her. To my dying day I'll never +willingly see her again, and if that means breaking with Dick I'll +break with him till he comes to his senses. I mean it. If she is +going to stay here to hunt with the South Meadshire, then I'll go and +hunt somewhere else until she's gone; or I won't hunt at all. Yes, +she's impossible. You've spoken the right word. I shouldn't be doing +my duty if I left any stone unturned to put an end to Dick's +unaccountable folly. He'll thank me for it some day, and I'll put up +with all and every unhappiness until that day comes." + +He had calmed down during the course of his speech, as he often did, +beginning on a note of unreasonable violence and ending on one +completely different. But he did not usually end on a note of strong +determination, as now, and Mrs. Clinton looked at him as if she hardly +recognised him, with lines of perplexity and trouble in her smooth, +comely face. She did not ask him what he was going to do, such +questions being apt to provoke him to impatient anger and seldom +bringing a direct reply. She said hesitatingly, "If he says definitely +that he is going to marry her----" and left him to supply the end of +her sentence. + +"I shall not let him marry her," he said quietly. "He can't marry on +his pay, and I shall stop his allowance from to-day." + +This statement, revolutionary of all fixed notions that had their rise +in Kencote, affected Mrs. Clinton as nothing before in her married life +had affected her. It showed her her husband as she had never known +him, bent on a course of action, not ready to take advice about it, but +prepared to turn his back on the most cherished principles of his life +in order to carry it out. She had nothing to say. She could only look +down and wonder apprehensively what her world was coming to. + +"I don't think I should have thought of doing such a thing," the Squire +admitted. "It gives me more pain to take a course like that than +anything else could have done. It was Humphrey who suggested it. He +said, quite truly, that none of them could marry unless I saw them +through. And I won't see Dick through this. I'll do anything to stop +it, however much I suffer by what I have to do. Don't you think I'm +right, Nina?" + +This was more what Mrs. Clinton was accustomed to. She could not say +that she thought he was right, nor that he was wrong. She could only +say, as she did, that such a proceeding would be distressing to him. + +"I know that," said the Squire, with a new simplicity. "I'm not +thinking of myself. I'm thinking of Dick. I love the boy, Nina. He's +got himself into trouble and I've got to help him out of it." + +"Do you think this is the best way?" was all that she could find to say. + +"It's the only way. If there were any other I would take it. If it +doesn't bring him to his senses at once, I shall keep the money for him +till it does. God knows _I_ don't want to touch it." + +"He will have to give up the Guards," said Mrs. Clinton. + +The Squire had not thought of this, and he digested the statement. +"He's not an absolute fool," he said, "although he has lost his head +over this. As far as the service goes, I shouldn't mind if he did give +it up. I never meant him to go on soldiering so long. Still, if he +does give it up, what's he to do, poor fellow, till he comes round? He +wouldn't have a penny. I shall tell him that I will continue his +allowance as long as he remains unmarried." He brightened up as this +idea struck him. "Yes," he said, "that will be the best way, and just +as effective. I couldn't bear to think of Dick hard up. I'll write +now." + +He sat down to his table, muddy boots, spurs, and all, and Mrs. Clinton +left him, a little relieved in her mind that he saw a gleam of light, +but otherwise solicitous for his sake and unhappy on her own. She +loved her firstborn too, although it was very long since she had been +able to show it. She would have liked to have helped him now, but he +had not asked for her help, had told her nothing, and had left her with +scarcely more than a formal word of farewell. + +The Squire, left to himself, wrote quickly, and sealed up his letter +after he had read it over once, as if first thoughts were best, and he +was uncertain to what second would lead him. + + +"My dear Dick" [his note ran], + +"I can only repeat that nothing will induce me to give my consent to +the marriage you propose. If you marry in a way to please me I shall +provide for you handsomely, as I have always intended to do, but if you +persist in the course you have begun on I shall withdraw your allowance +entirely. It will be paid to you for the present, but only as long as +you remain unmarried. I am very sorry to have to take this course, but +you leave me nothing else to do. + +"Your affectionate father, + "EDWARD CLINTON." + + +When he had closed and directed the envelope an unpleasant thought +struck him, and he leant back in his chair and looked out of the window +while he considered it. "I suppose she must have _some_ money," he +said to himself; and then after a time, "But Dick would never do that." + +The note was taken over to Blaythorn, as all notes were that were +despatched from Kencote, by a groom on horseback. The Squire was +impatient of the workings of the penny post, except for distances +impossible for a horse, and he would not ask if Dick's soldier-servant +had yet left the house with his master's belongings. "Tell one of the +grooms to take that over," were his curt instructions, and so well was +the letter of his orders always obeyed that a groom rode off with it +within a quarter of an hour, although another one was already +harnessing a horse to the cart that was to take Dick's servant to +Blaythorn as soon as he should be ready. But having got safely outside +the park gates he dawdled till his fellow caught him up, and the three +of them then continued the journey together and discussed the situation. + +Dick's servant was loyal to his master, but it was not in human nature +that he should have refrained from speculating upon what was doing, and +between them they managed to attain to a fairly clear idea of what that +was, their unanimous conclusion being that if the Captain had made up +his mind to marry the lady the Squire might take what steps he liked, +but he would not stop him. In this way began the rumours that +presently spread all over the county and thence all over England, or to +such of its inhabitants as are interested in the affairs of its Captain +Clintons and Lady Georges. + +Dick and Virginia were alone together when the note was brought in, the +mounted groom having ridden on when he got within a mile of his +destination. "That means war," said Dick, laconically, when he had +read it; "but I didn't think he would use those tactics quite so soon. +I wonder who put him up to it." He thought for a moment. "Humphrey +wouldn't have done it, I suppose," he said reflectively. + +Virginia's eyes were serious as she looked up from the note written in +the Squire's big, rather sprawling hand on the thick white paper. "I +wonder why he hates me so," she said a little plaintively. "Is it +because I headed the fox, Dick?" + +Dick took her chin between his thumb and finger and his face grew +tender as he looked into her eyes. "You were a very foolish girl to do +that, Virginia," he said. "I should have thought you would have known +better." + +"I didn't know there was such a sharp turn," she said. "I pulled up +the moment I got round the corner." + +"Oh, well! never mind about that," said Dick. "It was unfortunate, but +it wouldn't have made him want to disinherit me. He can't disinherit +me, you know. It's just like him to go blundering into a course like +this, which he hasn't got the firmness to keep up." + +"That letter doesn't look as if he lacked firmness," Virginia said. +"Dick dear, what shall you do?" + +Dick did not answer this question directly. He had his father's habit +of following out his own train of thought and ignoring, or rather not +noticing, interruption. "He must know perfectly well," he said, "that +I can raise money quite easily on my prospects. I dare say he hasn't +thought of that, though. He never does think a thing thoroughly out. +He wouldn't be happy if I threatened to do it." + +"Oh, Dick, Dick!" exclaimed Virginia, "why do you want to worry about +money? I have plenty for both of us." + +"My dear, I've told you that's impossible," said Dick a little +impatiently. "Don't keep harping on it." + +It gave her a thrill of delight to be spoken to in that way--by him. +She had been used to being ordered to do something or not to do +something by a man, but not by the man she loved. She kept obedient +silence, but gave Dick's arm a little squeeze. + +"I'm not going to do it, though," he went on. "I should hate it as +much as he would. Let's sit down, Virginia. I'll tell you what I'm +going to do." + +They sat down on the sofa, and Dick took a cigarette out of his case. +Virginia held it open. "Couldn't I have just one?" she pleaded. + +"No," said Dick, taking it from her. "You promised you would give it +up when you came down here." + +"So I have," she said. "I think you are very cruel." + +Dick put the case back into his pocket. "Of course I'm not unprepared +for this," he said, "though I hoped it wouldn't come to it. I shall +have to give up the service and get some work." + +"Oh, Dick!" she said. "You don't want to give up the service." + +"No, I don't want to. I should have got my majority next year, and I +wanted to go on till I commanded the regiment, though I never told +_him_ so. But it's got to be done, and it's no use grizzling about it." + +"And you're doing this for me!" she said softly. + +"I am doing a great deal more than that for you," he said. "I'm giving +up Kencote, at least for a time." + +"Do you think I'm worth it?" she asked drily. + +He looked down at her, and then took her hand in his. "You must get +used to my little ways," he said, with a kind smile. "I must be able +to say to you what is in my mind." + +"Oh, I know," she said repentantly. "It was horrid of me. But I do +know what you're giving up, and I love you for it. I hope it won't be +for long--Kencote, I mean. I suppose if you give up the army you won't +be able to go back to it. I hate to think of that because it's your +career. And what else can you work at, dear Dick? Fancy you in an +office!" + +"The idea of me in an office needn't disturb you," said Dick. "I don't +intend to go into an office. There are two things I know about. One +is soldiering, the other is estate management. If I'm to be prevented +from managing the estate that's going to be my own some day, then I'll +manage somebody else's in the meantime. There are lots of landowners +who would be only too glad to give me a job." + +"Tell me what it means exactly, Dick. Have you got to be a sort of +steward to some rich person? I don't think I should like that." + +He laughed and patted her hand. "You must get rid of some of your +American ideas," he said. "The 'rich person' wouldn't want to treat me +as a servant. And it isn't necessary that he should be very rich. I +might not be able to get a big agency all at once. I don't know that I +should want to, as long as there was enough work to do. As far as your +money goes, Virginia, I shouldn't have any feeling about using it to +help run the show. What I won't do is to live on it and do nothing. +There ought not to be any difficulty in finding a place that would give +us a good house, and enough money to run the stables on, and for my +personal expenses, which wouldn't be heavy, as we would stick there and +do our job. It would be just what I hoped we should be doing at +Kencote from the dower-house. With luck, if there happened to be a +vacancy anywhere, I could do better than that. But that much, at any +rate, it won't be difficult to get, with a month or so to look round +in." + +"Then all our difficulties are done away with!" she exclaimed. "Oh, +Dick, why didn't you tell me before? I thought, if your father held +out, we should have a terrible time, and you would be as obstinate as +possible about my money. I'll tell you what I have. I have----" + +"I don't want to know what you have--yet," he interrupted her. "I +didn't tell you before because I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I +didn't want to face the necessity of giving up the service, and still +less of having to give up Kencote. But now there's no help for it; +well, we must just let all that slide and make the best of things." + +She still thought his scruples about using her money to do what he +wanted to do, and his absence of scruples about using it to do what he +didn't want, needed more explanation. But she gave up that point as +being only one more of the inexplicable tortuosities of a man's sense +of honour. She was only too glad that the question could be settled as +easily as that. But Dick must have felt also that it needed more +explanation, for he said, "When I said that I had no feeling about +letting you help run the house--of course, I really hate it like +poison. But there is just the difference." + +"Oh, of course there is--all the difference in the world," she made +haste to reply, terrified lest they should be going to split, after +all, on this wretched simulacrum of a rock. Then she had a bright +thought. "But, Dick dear, you told me once how lucky your ancestors +had been in marrying heiresses--not that I'm much of an heiress!" + +"You're not an heiress at all," he said impatiently. "I suppose +everything you've got comes from--from that fellow. Can't you see the +difference? I hate touching his beastly money. And I won't, longer +than I can help." + +"But, Dick!" she exclaimed wonderingly. "Didn't you know? He never +left me a cent. He hadn't a cent to leave." + +He stared at her. "Then where _did_ it come from?" he asked. + +"Why, from pigs--from Chicago," she said, laughing. "My father was of +an old family, my mother wasn't, and one of her brothers made a fortune +in a bacon factory. Unfortunately, he did not make it until after she +was dead and I was married, or it might have stopped--oh, many things. +But he left it to me--the bacon factory--and I sold it for---- But you +won't let me tell you how much." + +"Oh, you can tell me if it's yours," he said. + +"Well, they told me I had been cheated. But what was I to do with a +bacon factory? And I sold it for as much as I wanted to live +comfortably on. I sold it for a quarter of a million dollars." + +Dick's stare was still in evidence. "A quarter of a million! +Dollars!" he repeated. "That's--what? Fifty thousand pounds. By the +Lord, Virginia, you're an heiress after all." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE HOUSE PARTY + +"My dear Emmeline," said the Judge, "if I hadn't such a profound +contempt for Edward's intellect and for everything represented or +misrepresented by him, I could feel it in my heart to be very sorry for +him." + +"My dear Herbert," replied Lady Birkett, "if you weren't as deeply +sorry for him as you actually are, you wouldn't be your own kind, +sympathetic, would-be-cynical self." + +Sir Herbert and Lady Birkett with their two daughters and their +son-in-law had arrived at Kencote that afternoon to make part of the +company gathered there for the South Meadshire Hunt Ball. Other guests +had arrived by a later train, but there had been an interval during +which the Judge had been closeted with his brother-in-law, the Squire, +and heard from him everything that had taken place within the past +month, which was the interval that had elapsed since Dick had abruptly +left Kencote. He had now come into his wife's bedroom, where she was +in the later stages of dressing for dinner, although dinner was as yet +half an hour off. + +"I know you want to tell me everything," she said, "and although the +lady who is doing my hair does not understand a word of English as yet, +you will probably be able to talk more freely if she is not present. +If you will come back in five minutes she will have gone to Angela." + +So the Judge went into his dressing-room and, finding his clothes +already laid out, dressed and repaired again to his wife, not quite in +five minutes, but in little more than ten. + +"I suppose you have heard all about it from Nina?" he said, taking up +the conversation where he had left it. "Have you seen this Lady George +Dubec?" + +"Yes," said Lady Birkett. "She is not in the least what Edward +pictures her, according to Nina. As far as her looks tell one +anything, I should say she was a charming woman." + +"Edward paints her as a voluptuous siren of the ballet. I suppose one +may put that down as one of his usual excursions of imagination." + +"She certainly isn't that, and it was news to me that she had ever been +on the stage. Poor Nina is very distressed about it. She says that +they have had no word from Dick since he left the house, that Edward +has only heard through Humphrey that he has sent in his papers, but +even Humphrey doesn't know where he is or what he is doing." + +"I had the same news from Edward, with the additions which might be +expected of him. He takes it hard that after all he has done for Dick +he should be treated in that way, and I don't know that I shouldn't +take it hard in his place. It makes me increasingly thankful that I +haven't any sons." + +This was a polite little fiction on the Judge's part which his wife +respected. It was the chief regret of his life that he had no son. + +"Nina says he is fretting himself into a fever," said Lady Birkett, +"lest Dick should be raising money on his expectations." + +"Fretting himself into a fever," replied the Judge, "is not the +expression I should use of Edward. But he certainly feels deep +annoyance, and expresses it. He had not thought of that when he +delivered his ultimatum, and, as he says, it would be the easiest +possible thing for Dick to do. But I was mercifully able to relieve +his mind on that point. I did not exactly tell him that Dick, although +he has more brains in his little finger than his father has in his +head, is so much like him that he would shrink from taking so sensible +a step as much as Edward himself would; but I gave him the gist of it. +My dear Emmeline, to men like Edward and Dick, land--landed +property--is sacrosanct. Dick would give up _any_ woman rather than +embarrass an acre of Kencote. Kencote is his religion, just as much as +it is Edward's. Edward gained comfort from my assuring him of the +fact. He said that Dick was behaving so badly that right and wrong +seemed to have no distinction for him for the time being, but probably +there were crimes that he would not commit, and this might be one of +them." + +"I am glad you told him that," said Lady Birkett. "I should think it +is probably true. But what is he doing, or thinking of doing?" + +"He may be thinking of doing a little honest work," said the Judge, who +had sat for some time in the House of Commons as a wicked Radical. "I +put the suggestion to Edward for what it was worth, but he scouted it. +As he indicated, there is nothing that a man who has been through a +public school and university training, and has been for ten or fifteen +years in a position of responsibility in His Majesty's army, can do. +He has no money value whatever. I did not contradict him." + +"_She_ has money, I suppose," said Lady Birkett. + +"She must have some. But there again I felt able to reassure Edward. +I know the Dicks of the world pretty well. They are not without their +merits, and there are certain things they don't do. Of course, if he +were working, and making some sort of an income, with his prospects it +would be different." + +Lady Birkett let this go by. "Will Edward hold out, do you think?" she +asked. + +"Well," said the Judge reflectively, "I'm bound to say it surprises me, +but there is every sign of his holding out till Doomsday, or, which +puts a more likely period to it, till something unforeseen happens." + +"Till he hears that Dick has married her, for instance." + +"There wouldn't be much object in his holding out after that. But +there is seldom much object in Edward's divagations. He is swayed by +his prejudices and by the impulses of the moment. Still, I'll do him +justice: he is acting as sensibly as he knows how in this crisis. I +believe he loves Dick better than any being upon earth, with the +possible exception of himself. I really believe he loves him better +than himself. Of course Dick represents Kencote, and the family, and +the line, and all the whole clamjamphrie, which partly accounts for it. +At any rate he is causing his stupid old self an infinity of worry and +annoyance, and all for the sake of what he considers a principle. I +should say that Dick is acting foolishly in holding off altogether. I +dare say Nina told you he has not answered a single letter. It has +always struck me that he had Edward completely under his thumb, and I +should have said that he had only to hang on here and play his cards +well and Edward would have given way. Now he is stiffening himself up." + +"I suppose they are both stiffening themselves up." + +"You put it in a nutshell. Fancy Edward giving up his season's hunting +so that he shan't be obliged to set eyes on his aversion! That +impresses me. He is in dead earnest. He will stop this marriage if he +can." + +"But Dick is just as obstinate." + +"It is the case of the irresistible body and the immovable force." + +"Didn't you make any suggestion?" + +"Yes, I did. I suggested that he should stipulate for a year's delay. +I pointed out that if the lady was the bad character he supposes her to +be, Dick, with the sense he has inherited from his father--I said that, +God forgive me--would come to see it in that time." + +"Did he take to the idea?" + +"Not at all. When did Edward ever take to any idea at first sight? +But it will sink in, and I shall give Tom Beach a hint to follow it up." + +"I believe it will be the best way, and Nina is going to try and see +Dick when she comes up with me next week." + +The Judge stroked his chin. "H'm!" he said. "I'm afraid Nina has very +little power to help matters." + +"I am much more sorry for Nina than I am for Edward." + +"Oh, so am I," interpolated the Judge. + +"It is the thing I can least forgive Dick--his treating his mother +practically in the same way as Edward treats her--as if she were of no +account. It doesn't promise well for the happiness of this Lady +George, or whoever he does come to marry." + +"Let's hope for her own sake that she won't make Nina's mistake." + +"You mean----" + +"Oh, Nina laid herself down to be trampled on from the very first. She +had plenty of character. She could have stood out. Now, whatever +character she has has been buried under a mountain weight of stolid +stupidity. She can't call her soul her own." + +"I think she would act--and against Edward--if she saw her way to act +effectively." + +"She would be laying up a pretty bad time for herself if she did act +against Edward in any way." + +"Oh, but she wouldn't mind that if she thought it was her duty." + +"Well, she can try. And she might put that idea of mine to Dick. Let +him promise not to marry the lady for a year. He has been a bachelor +for thirty-five or so, and he can stand another. I believe it might be +the solution. I suppose we had better be going down now." + +It was an unusually large party for Kencote that assembled at dinner. +The Squire took in Lady Aldeburgh, who must have been five-and-forty if +a day, but either by a special dispensation of Providence, or by +mysterious arts marvellously concealed, was still enabled to present +herself to the world as eight-and-twenty. The Squire did not quite +approve of this, but the illusion was so complete that he found himself +talking to her as if she were a girl. She was beautifully gowned in +blue and silver, and wore the Aldeburgh diamonds, which sparkled on the +clear white skin of her neck, on her corsage, and in the smooth ripples +of her hair. She was attractive enough to the eye to make it possible +for her to indulge in moods for the heightening of her charm. +Sometimes she was all childish gaiety and innocence; sometimes the deep +melancholy of her soul looked out of her violet eyes, which were so +good that they had to be given their chance; sometimes she was ice. +This evening she had begun on a pouting note, which she had often found +effective with elderly gentlemen, but finding the Squire impervious to +its appeal and plainly puzzled by it, remembering also that she had on +her diamonds, she had exchanged it for the air of a _grande dame_, +humanised by maternal instinct. + +"Mother is telling Mr. Clinton how she has devoted herself to my +bringing-up," whispered Lady Susan to Humphrey. "Is he likely to be +impressed at all, do you think?" + +"He is likely to be bowled over by the result," replied Humphrey +gallantly, and Lady Susan, who was not so pretty as her mother, and +only slightly more sensible, told him not to be an idiot. + +Of Lady Birkett's two daughters, Beatrice, the elder, had been +accompanied by her husband, Sir George Senhouse, the rising young +politician, whose handsome, intellectual head would have made him +remarked anywhere, but whose bent shoulders, grey temples, and +carelessness of dress made him seem older than his years. The younger, +Angela, sat by the man she was going to marry, Hammond-Watt, the +youngest K.C. at the Bar. The inclusion of these two men in the party +had caused Bobby Trench, Humphrey's friend, to ask if he had come to +Kencote for a ball or a political meeting, and to suggest the +advisability of clearing out again before he should be asked for a +speech. This young gentleman, to whom the accident of birth had +brought the privilege of taking in his hostess, and whose other +neighbour had been Beatrice Birkett, asked himself before dinner was +over what he had come for, ball or no ball. He was accustomed to shine +in smart country houses, and Kencote was not at all smart. He had +found Mrs. Clinton unresponsive to his light chatter, and Angela +Birkett so taken up with the conversation of her K.C. that she had +little attention to spare for him. George Senhouse, who sat opposite +to him, made no effort to follow his lead, and, in fact, ignored him as +far as possible, which secretly annoyed him. Lady Aldeburgh, who would +have permitted him to flirt with her, was beyond his reach, and her +daughter was too much taken up with Humphrey to do more than exchange a +light sally or two with him. He was reduced to eating his dinner, +which was a very good one, and, in large intervals of silence, to +gazing around upon the company and inwardly ejaculating, "Never again!" + +When the ladies had left the room the Squire, with old-fashioned +courtesy, brought the decanters down to his end of the table and +engaged him in conversation about his father. + +"I recollect very well," said the Squire, in his loud, confident tones, +"when Cane Chair won the Derby at thirty-to-one, by George!--dear me, I +should be afraid to say how many years ago. He belonged to your +grandfather, and of course we were all on him. Your father and I----" + +"Oh yes, he's told me that story dozens of times," said Bobby Trench. + +"Oh!" said the Squire, somewhat disconcerted. "Yes, I suppose he has." + +"We haven't heard it dozens of times," said George Senhouse. "What was +the story, Mr. Clinton?" + +The Squire turned towards him and his face lightened. "I haven't +thought about it for years," he said. "It's just come back to me. Jim +Trench and I made up our minds we would go and see the horse run, so we +got out of a window at four o'clock in the morning--did I say it was +when we were at Cambridge together?--and drove tandem to Hitchin, where +we got a train to London. I recollect we had sent on a change of +horses to--to some place half-way. We slunk about amongst the crowd, +as Jim's father was particular--wouldn't bet even on his own horses and +all that sort of thing, and I don't blame him; I haven't had a bet on a +horse since I was in the Blues;--and he wouldn't have taken it well to +see Jim at Epsom when he ought to have been at Cambridge. Well, we saw +the horse win, and, by George! I should be afraid to say how much +money your father"--here he turned again towards Bobby Trench--"took +off the bookies." + +"Pots," said Bobby laconically. "But he lost it all over the Leger." + +"Ah, well, the best thing he could have done," said the Squire. "I had +put on a tenner, and both of us had had a little ready-money +transaction on the course after we'd seen the horse canter; so we went +back to London with a pocketful each, and by George!"--here the Squire +laughed his great laugh--"we'd dropped it all to a pack of +card-sharpers before we got there. We were pretty green in those days, +and it was all our own fault, so we didn't quarrel with the +fellows--we'd tried to have them, and they'd had us instead. We made +'em show us how it was done, so that we shouldn't be had again, and I +recollect they said we were a couple of good sportsmen and gave us a +sovereign or two back to get us to Cambridge, or we should have had to +walk there, by George! + +"But that wasn't the end of it," proceeded the Squire after he had done +justice to his youthful memories with a hearty laugh. "We celebrated +the occasion with a supper of the True Blue Club, in your father's +rooms--has he told you that?" + +"I don't know whether he's ever told me the truth about it," admitted +Bobby Trench. + +"Weil, it's a long time ago," said the Squire, "and we were all young +and foolish. It was a lively supper, and your father went out for a +little fresh air. They used to keep the college buttery stores in +barges on the river in those days, and after wandering about a bit and +climbing a few fences and gates for purposes of his own he found +himself on the St. John's barge. Then he thought he'd like a bath, and +it didn't somehow occur to him to go in over the side, so he knocked a +hole in the bottom of the barge and sank her, by George!" + +Here the Squire interrupted himself to laugh again. "He had all the +bath he wanted, and the wonder is he wasn't drowned," he concluded. +"Well, we had some pretty lively times in those days, and it doesn't do +you any harm to recall them occasionally. I should like to see your +father again. It must be thirty years since I set eyes on him. Wonder +if he'd care to come and shoot one of these days?" + +Bobby Trench said he was sure he would be delighted, and undertook to +deliver a message, which he fulfilled later on by informing his father +that his one-time friend had developed into a regular old turnip-hoer, +and if he wanted to sit and listen to long-winded yarns about nothing +Kencote was the place to go to. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE HUNT BALL + +The Assembly Room of the Royal Hotel at Bathgate had been the scene of +many fashionable gatherings in days gone by, when London had not been +so easy of access, and the rank and fashion of South Meadshire had been +wont to meet there for their mutual enjoyment, on nights when the moon +was round and roads not too deep in mire. The Regent had once shown +his resplendent presence there, having been entertained at Kencote by +Beau Clinton, who hated the place and spent its revenues in London, but +had furbished it up at rare expense--to the tradesmen who did the +work--for the reception of his royal patron. The Prince had expressed +himself pleased with what had been done, and told his host that it was +surprising what you could do with a damned dull hole like that when you +tried; but he had not repeated his visit, and Beau Clinton's +extravagance had soon after been redeemed by his brother the merchant, +who succeeded him as Squire of Kencote, and just in time, or there +would have been nothing to succeed to. + +The royal visit to the Assembly at Bathgate was still to be recalled by +the lustre chandelier in the middle of the room which was surmounted by +the Prince of Wales's feathers. The landlord of those days had +followed the example of Beau Clinton, except in the matter of +forgetting to pay his tradespeople, and spent a large sum in decorating +the room; and he thought himself well repaid when the princely patron +of the arts had remarked that it was "devilish chaste." It had hardly +been touched since. The red silk panels on the walls were faded, and +here and there frayed, and the white paint which surrounded them was +much the worse for wear. Of the Sheraton settees that had once +surrounded the walls only one remained, on the daïs at the end of the +room. It was that on which the royal form had reposed, and the present +landlord had refused, it was reported, a large sum for it. There was a +musicians' gallery at the opposite end of the room, and sconces for +candles between the panels. It was still a handsome room, and on the +annual occasion of the South Meadshire Hunt Ball, its shabbiness +disguised with flowers, it had quite an air. But it was small for +these latter days, and, for the dancers, apt to be inconveniently +crowded. Bobby Trench, after he had had his toes trodden on and his +shirt-front crumpled, inwardly repeated his ejaculations of +dinner-time, "Never again!" + +But he was, fortunately, in a minority. The bulk of the healthy +open-air-looking young men and the pretty country-bred girls who footed +it to the strains of a brisk and enlivening string band were not so +particular as he. They smiled at the mishaps of others and laughed at +their own, and enjoyed themselves thoroughly, as young men and women do +who are not surfeited with pleasure. Their elders looked on from the +rout seats placed round the room, or from their place of vantage on the +daïs, and in the intervals of the babel of talk--for nearly all of them +knew one another and had a great deal to say--thought of their own +young days and were pleased to see their pleasure repeated by their +sons and daughters. There is no ball like a country ball, not too +overwhelmingly invaded from London or elsewhere. It has the essence of +sociability, where people meet who do not meet too often, and there is +something for the young ones to do and the old ones to look on at. If +the Bobby Trenches who happen upon it compare it unfavourably with more +splendid entertainments, it is to be doubted if those entertainments +are so much enjoyed by those who take part in them, except perhaps by +the novices, to whom all gaiety is glamour. + +The Squire, sitting on the daïs as became a man of his position in the +county, scanned the assembly after having conducted Lady Aldeburgh +through the mazes of the opening quadrille, and the frown which had +left his face for the past few hours, but had sat there almost +invariably during the past month, appeared again. Lady Aldeburgh was +talking to old Lord Meadshire, his kinsman, who in spite of age and +chronic asthma was still an inveterate frequenter of local festivities, +and he had a moment's interval in which his trouble rolled back upon +him. He had had a dim hope that Dick, who for the first time in his +life, except when he was in South Africa, had not come home for +Christmas, might show up at Bathgate for this occasion. It had been a +very small hope, for nothing had been heard from him, and he had even +left them to take it for granted that he had put off Captain Vernon, +the friend whom he had asked to stay at Kencote for the balls. And, +furthermore, if he should be there it would be as a guest of Lady +George Dubec, who was known still to be at Blaythorn. But even that +disagreeable condition did not entirely do away with the Squire's +desire to set eyes on his son, for whose presence he longed more and +more as the days went on. But there was no Dick to be seen amongst the +red-coated men in the room, and as yet there was no Lady George Dubec. + +But as he looked over the moving crowd of dancers, and the bordering +rows of men and matrons sitting and standing, his bushy brows +contracted still more, for he saw her come in beneath the musicians' +gallery at the other end of the hall with Miss Dexter, and, which +caused him still further disquietude, saw her instantly surrounded by a +crowd of men. He turned his head away with an impatient shrug and +broke into the conversation between Lady Aldeburgh and Lord Meadshire. +But this did not save him, for Lord Meadshire, whose old twinkling eyes +were everywhere, said in his low husky voice, "There's the lady I met +driving yesterday. Tell me who she is, my dear Edward, and relieve my +curiosity." + +The Squire, mumbling inaudibly, got up from his seat and, turning his +back upon the hall, entered into a conversation with the wife of the +Master of the South Meadshire, whom he disliked, but who happened to be +the only lady disengaged at the moment. But she said, when she had +answered his first remark, "There is Lady George. She looks handsomer +than ever"; and turning his back again he went out into a room where +there was a buffet and swallowed a glass of champagne, although he knew +that a tablespoonful would have brought him discomfort. + +Virginia was dressed in a gown of shimmering blue green which had the +effect of moonlight. She had a row of turquoises round her slim neck. +Her colour was higher than usual and her eyes sparkled. No one of +those who pressed round her admiring her beauty and gay charm could +have guessed that it was excitement of no pleasurable sort that brought +the light to her eyes and the laughter to her lips. But Miss Dexter, +standing demurely by her side, dressed in black, her light hair combed +unbecomingly back from her broad forehead, and receiving with +equanimity the crumbs of invitation that fell from her friend's richly +spread table, knew with what shrinking Virginia had brought herself to +make her appearance here. Both of them knew very well why the Squire +had no more been seen in the hunting field since that first day; both +of them had been aware of him the moment they had entered the room, had +seen his movements, and interpreted them correctly. + +Virginia was soon dancing with Bobby Trench, who had drawn her +impatiently away from her suitors, telling her that the valse was half +over and that she could fill up her card later. + +"Jove!" he said, when they had danced once round the room in silence, +"it's a relief to come across a friend amongst all these clodhoppers. +How on earth do you find yourself here?" + +"I'm living near here at present," she said. "How do you?" + +"Oh, I'm a visitor--a non-paying guest in a house like a Hydropathic +Establishment, or what I imagine one to be like. Fine house, but mixed +company." + +"Then if you are a guest you ought not to say so," said Virginia, whose +thoughts so ran on Kencote that it was the first house that occurred to +her as possibly affording him hospitality. + +"Oh, they're all right, really," he said, "only they're the sort of +people who take root in the country and grow there, like +cabbages--except the chap who asked me. He's one of the sons, and he'd +smarten 'em up if he had his way. Humphrey Clinton! Do you know him?" + +"No," said Virginia. "Well, yes, I've met him in London. I don't like +him." + +"Eh? Why not? I'll tell him." + +"Very well. Let's go and sit down. The room is too crowded." + +But Bobby Trench, who saw the end of the dance in sight, and knew that +directly Virginia sat down other men would come up to her, continued to +dance. "I haven't bumped you yet," he said. "We'll steer through +somehow. Are you going to Kemsale on Monday?" + +"No," said Virginia, and left off dancing, having come to the end of +the room, where Miss Dexter was still standing. As her partner had +foreseen, she was immediately besieged again, and as for some, to him, +unaccountable reason, she refused to book another engagement with him, +he went away and left her in a huff. + +He came across Humphrey, who was partnerless for the moment. "Let's go +and get a drink," he said. "I'm dry. I say, you didn't tell me that +Virginia Dubec lived in these parts." + +"She doesn't," replied Humphrey as they made their way towards the room +with the buffet. "She has taken a house here for a few months. My +brother Dick got it for her." + +"Oh, I thought she said she didn't know your people. Where is your +brother, by the by?" + +Humphrey considered for a moment as to whether he should enlighten him +as to the state of the case, and decided not to, but wished almost +immediately that he had, for as they went into the refreshment-room +they met his father coming out, and Bobby Trench, who always spoke what +was passing through his mind to the nearest available person, said, +"I've found a friend, Mr. Clinton--Lady George Dubec. Didn't know she +was in your part of the country." + +The Squire scowled at him, and went out of the room without a word. + +"Nice manners!" commented Bobby Trench to himself. + +"The fact is," said Humphrey, "that the governor won't know the lady." + +"Why not? What's the matter with her?" asked his friend. "I should +have thought she'd have been a godsend in a place like this. I thought +you said your brother got her down here." + +"So he did," said Humphrey, making a clean breast of it. "That's what +the row's about. Governor wouldn't have anything to do with her, and +so Dick has retired from the scene for a time. But don't say anything +about it, old chap. Little family disturbance we don't want to go any +further." + +"Course not," said Bobby Trench, delighted to get hold of the end of a +piece of gossip and determined to draw out the rest as soon as +possible. "So that's how the land lies, is it? Now I see why she +didn't want to have any more truck with this engaging youth. Well, +your brother's taste is to be commended. Why does your father object +to her?" + +"Oh, I don't know. Old-fashioned prejudice, I suppose; and he knew +George Dubec." + +"And he was a daisy, from all accounts. Come on, we'd better be +getting back." + +Old Lord Meadshire, who had been Lord-Lieutenant of the county from +which his title came for over forty years, and took an almost fatherly +interest in its inhabitants, learnt from Mrs. Graham who the unknown +lady was. + +"Oh, I can tell you all about her," she said. "She's making a fine +disturbance in this little duck-pond." + +"Well, she's pretty enough to make a disturbance anywhere," said the +old lord, whose kindly eye for youth and beauty was not dimmed by his +eighty years. "And if there is anything going on, I know I can trust +you to tell me all about it." + +"There it is again," replied Mrs. Graham. "I'm getting the reputation +of a tale-bearer, and there's nothing I hate more. Still, I think +_you_ ought to know." And she told him who Virginia was, and what was +happening because she was what she was. + +The old man grew rather serious as the story was unfolded to him. +"Edward Clinton was always headstrong," he said, "but it's unlike him +to quarrel with Dick. I think he ought to have waited to see what she +was like first." + +"Of course he ought," said Mrs. Graham. "I've no patience with him. +He had the impudence to take me to task for asking her to dinner, and +Jim and Cicely to meet her. But he didn't get much change out of me." + +"You told him what you thought about him--what?" + +"I told him what I thought about her, and left him to infer the rest. +There's nothing wrong about her, if she did marry Lord George Dubec, +and all the rest of it. I like her, and I told him so. And if I can't +ask my own son and daughter-in-law to meet whom I like in my own house +without being hauled over the coals by Mr. Clinton--well, he'll be +expecting me to ask him what I'm to wear next." + +"He couldn't improve on that," said Lord Meadshire, with an +appreciative glance at her pretty gown of pale blue silk under brown +net. + +"Thank you," returned Mrs. Graham. "I hate clothes, but I can get +myself up if I'm flattered enough beforehand. Cicely does that for me. +I've no complaint to make of her as a daughter-in-law." + +"Well, you had better introduce me to Lady George," said Lord +Meadshire. "She must be asked to Kemsale on Monday. And I'll find an +opportunity of dropping a word of common sense into Edward's ear, eh?" + +"It will go out at the other. There's nothing to stop it," said Mrs. +Graham. "But it will be a good thing to show him he's not going to +have it all his own way." + +The introduction was duly made, and Virginia, palpitating under her air +of assured ease, talked to him for some little time, sitting with him +on the daïs. She knew that this kind old man who chatted pleasantly +with her, making feeble little jokes in his asthmatic voice, which his +eyes, plainly admiring her, asked her to smile at, was the most +important of all Dick's relations, besides being the most important man +in the county, and that if she could win him to like her his influence +might well avail to ease her lover's path. That he did like her and +was prepared to accept her in friendly wise as a neighbour was plain. +But she had a moment of fright when he said, "We are dancing at Kemsale +on Monday night. You must come. Where is Eleanor, I wonder?" And he +looked round for Lady Kemsale, his widowed daughter-in-law, who kept +house for him. + +"I am not sure," she said hurriedly. She did not know in the least how +much he knew, or whether he knew anything. "Captain Clinton found me +my house here, but----" She did not know how to go on, and feared she +had already said too much in her confusion, but he turned towards her. + +"Oh, I know, I know," he said kindly, and then beckoned to his +daughter-in-law, a stout, rather severe-looking lady in steely grey, +who greeted Virginia without smiling and gave the required invitation +rather coldly. + +"I will send you a card," she said, "and please bring any friends you +may have with you." + +Lady Kemsale had just heard the story of his troubles from the Squire, +who had found in her a sympathetic listener, and she had heard that +Virginia had once danced on the stage. She would have preferred to +have ignored her, but Lord Meadshire's commands must be obeyed, and +even as she obeyed them and gave the invitation her sympathy with the +Squire's troubles began to wane and she said to herself that he must +have made a mistake. There was nothing of the stage-charmer about this +woman, and Lady Kemsale thought she knew all about that class of +temptress, for her own nephew had recently married one of them. She +preserved her stately, unsmiling air as she turned away, but she was +already softened, if Virginia had only known it. + +But Virginia's sensibilities had already taken renewed fright at her +manner, and in a way the exhibition of which now somewhat disturbed old +Lord Meadshire. She rose to her feet, and her air was no less stately +than that of Lady Kemsale. "It is very kind of you to ask me to your +house," she said, "but I think under the present circumstances I would +rather not come." Then she made him a bow and stepped off the daïs, +and was immediately seized by her partner of the dance that was then in +progress. She was angry, but did not speak to him until they had +circled the room twice. She was willing to pay court to the people +amongst whom she was going to marry if they treated her properly. She +was willing to do even more than that for Dick's sake, and to run the +risk of slights, and she had done so by staying at Blaythorn, as he had +asked her to do, and by coming here to-night. But she was not going to +put up with slights from women who chose to treat her as of no account +and as if she were anxious at all costs to obtain their countenance. +There might be women who would be glad to gain entrance to a house like +Kemsale even after such an invitation as Lady Kemsale had given her, +but she was not one of them. The invitation, if it came after what she +had said to Lord Meadshire, should be refused. The woman whom Dick was +going to marry would not be recognised on those terms. She would wait +until she could go to Kemsale as an equal, and if that time never came +she would not go at all. In the meantime she was spending a very +wearing evening, and had an impulse to cut it all short and summon Miss +Dexter to accompany her home. But the thought that she was going +through it for Dick's sake sustained her, and she said to herself that +since she had wrought up her courage to come she would not run away. + +The person who did run away, before the dancing was half over, was the +Squire. He could stand it no longer. He could not remain in the +refreshment-room all the evening, and, as he hated cards, the solace of +the tables, set out quite in old Assembly-room style in another room, +did not avail him. If he led out a dowager to take his part in a +square dance there was always the haunting fear that Virginia might be +brought into the same set, and if he sat and looked on at the round +dances the hateful sight of her dark head and slender form was always +before him. Moreover, he had not yet talked to any one who had not +either made some remark about her or asked him why Dick was not there, +or, worse still, maintained an ominous silence on the subject of both +of them, showing plainly that he or she was aware of the disturbance in +his household, which galled him exceedingly, although to sympathetic +and assumedly secret ears like those of Lady Kemsale he was ready to +talk his fill, and gain relief from doing so. He could not keep what +he felt out of his face, and he saw people looking at him with furtive +amusement as he sat there glowering at the assembly, or trying his best +to talk as if he had nothing on his mind. He felt instinctively that +the story was being put all about the room, as indeed it was, for +rumour was already in the air, and had gained impulse by Dick's absence +and his own behaviour. + +And then Lord Meadshire--Cousin Humphrey, as he had called him ever +since he was a child, and called him still--had talked to him about +Dick and about Virginia, coupling their names together, as he +disgustedly said to himself, showing plainly that he knew what was on +foot, and inviting confidences if the Squire felt disposed to give +them. He did not feel so disposed. He was angry with his kinsman for +so publicly giving his countenance to Virginia, flouting him in the +face--so he felt it--making it appear as if he, in the place where he +had all his life cut a distinguished figure, and his wishes, were not +worth regarding. "I don't know the lady and don't want to," he said, +one might say petulantly. "And as for Dick--she wanted to come here +and he told her of a house. Considering he has scarcely been near the +place since she came, it's most annoying to hear him talked about as if +there was something between them. I hope you'll do what you can to +contradict that report. You can do a lot if you want to." + +Lord Meadshire glanced at him quizzically. He knew well enough his +ostrich-like habit of burying one fact in a Sahara of words and leaving +a dozen for all the world to see. "Come now, my dear Edward," he said +persuasively, "why not make friends with the lady? You will find her +everything she ought to be, and a charming woman into the bargain. If +Dick is a little struck with her charms, I don't wonder at it, and +there's nothing to be alarmed at. The best thing you can do is to keep +your eye on her while he is away." + +But this was a little too much. Cousin Humphrey had been his boyhood's +idol, and was the only member left of an older generation of his family +with the exception of Aunt Laura, but if he thought that he could treat +him as an obstinate child who was to be coaxed into good behaviour, he +was mistaken. "Nothing will induce me to make friends with her or to +recognise her in any way," he said, with decision. "Where's Nina? I'm +going home. I can't stand this any longer." + +Mrs. Clinton, who was enjoying herself in a quiet way, talking to +people whom she seldom saw, and infinitely relieved in her mind to find +Virginia what she was, and not what she had feared she might be, even a +little fascinated by her grace and beauty, and watching her all the +time even when she was talking, was disagreeably surprised at the curt +request of her lord and master that she should instantly accompany him +home. "But, Edward!" she exclaimed, "we have not ordered the carriage +until one o'clock, and it is not yet eleven. Aren't you well?" + +"We can get a fly," snapped the Squire. "Yes, I'm quite well. But I +can't put up with any more of this." + +Still she hesitated. There were her guests to think of. How could she +go off and leave them? + +"If you like I will go home with Uncle Edward," said Angela Senhouse, +to whom she had been talking. "I think it would make people uneasy if +you were to go." She looked at the Squire with her calm, rather cold +eyes, and he suddenly grew ashamed of himself. "I'll get a fly and go +by myself. You had better stay here, Nina." And he took himself off +without further ado. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A SHOOT + +On the morning after the Hunt Ball the Clinton twins rose, as usual +with them in the winter, about half-past eight o'clock. In the summer +they were up and out of doors at all sorts of unorthodox hours, but in +the cold long nights they slept like young hibernating animals, +snuggling amongst their warm coverings, and occasionally having to be +extricated by all the powers of persuasion, moral and physical, +possessed by Miss Bird. Miss Bird had now departed and the new +governess had not yet arrived, so they were their own mistresses within +limits, and responsible for their own tidy and punctual appearance at +the breakfast-table. + +Hannah, the schoolroom maid, brought in their tea and bread and butter +at eight o'clock, drew up their blinds, set out their bath (for there +were no bathrooms at Kencote), and then applied herself to the task of +arousing them. "Now, Miss Joan and Miss Nancy," she said in a loud, +confident voice, as if she had only to tell them to get up and they +would get up immediately. "I've brought your 'ot water. Miss Joan! +Miss Nancy! Eight o'clock! Time to get up! Miss Joan! Miss Nancy!" + +Joan stirred, opened her eyes, closed them again, turned over and +buried herself in the bedclothes again. "Now, Miss Joan," said Hannah, +quick to pursue her advantage, "don't go dropping off to sleep again. +'Ere's yer tea all ready and yer 'ot water gitting cold. Miss Nancy! +Time to get up!" + +"Go away," said Joan in a sleepy voice. "I'm awake." + +"Yes, and you'll be asleep again in a minute if you don't set up and +drink yer tea. Now, Miss Joan, you don't want me to stand 'ere all the +morning wasting me time with the whole 'ouse full and me wanted to +'elp." + +"Then go and 'elp, and don't bother," replied Joan sleepily. + +"Miss Nancy!" cried Hannah. "I know you ain't asleep. Set up and +drink yer tea. Miss Nancy! Lor'! the trouble I 'ave now Miss Bird's +gone, and only me to see that everything's right up 'ere and you ain't +late downstairs, which you know I should be blamed and not you if you +wasn't down in time." + +This roused Joan, who opened her eyes again and said, "It's nothing to +do with you whether we're late or not. You're always full of your own +importance. I'm quite awake now and you can clear out," and she sat up +in bed, and took her cup from the table between the two beds. + +"Not till Miss Nancy sets up I won't," said Hannah. "I know she's +awake and it's only contrariness as makes her pretend not to be." + +"Nancy, do sit up and let her go," entreated Joan, "or she'll go on +jabbering like a monkey for hours. My nerves won't stand it at this +time of the morning." + +Nancy sat up suddenly and reached for her cup. "Depart, minion!" she +commanded. + +"Now you won't go to sleep again after you've 'ad yer tea," said +Hannah. "I shall come back in 'alf an hour to do yer 'airs, and if you +ain't up and ready for me, I shall acquaint Mrs. Clinton, for reelly +the trouble I 'ave in this very room every morning as sure as the sun +rises, no young ladies as calls theirselves young ladies wouldn't +be'ave so." + +"Parse that sentence," said Nancy, and Hannah, with a toss of the head, +left the room. + +"Hannah's getting above herself," said Joan. "She seems to think now +Starling's gone she's been promoted to her place." + +"We'll let her go a little further," said Nancy, "and then we'll pull +her off her perch. What's the weather like? Not raining, is it? I +say, we ought to have some fun to-day, Joan. Who shall you stand with?" + +The Kencote coverts were to be shot over that day, and the twins were +allowed to accompany the guns on such occasions as these. + +"I don't know; Uncle Herbert, I think. He's the most amusing." + +"Joan, you know quite well I bagged Uncle Herbert in the schoolroom +yesterday," said Nancy. + +"Did you? I'd forgotten. You can have him in the morning and I'll go +with him in the afternoon. I think I shall go with Bobby Trench, and +see if he's as clever as he thinks he is." + +"You can't, my dear; you're too old. It would be considered forward. +Besides, he's an awful little ass." + +"That's what I wanted to convey to him. But I think I'll go with +Humphrey. He hasn't tipped us for ages, and _one_ of us must attend to +business." + +"You can't do that either. He'll want that simpering Lady Susan. +Joan, I believe there's more in that than meets the eye." + +"Penny, please," said Joan, holding out her hand. "You said you would +if I caught you saying that again." + +"All right, when I get up. I forgot. Why don't you go with George +Senhouse?" + +"He's too serious, and this is a holiday. Besides, he doesn't hit +them. I hate bloodshed, but I like to see _something_ done. I wish +dear old Dick were here. He'd bowl them over all right." + +"I wonder," said Nancy, "when all that bother is going to stop. Dear +papa will have to give way in the end, you know. He might just as well +do it now and save time." + +"If I were Dick I should just marry her and let him make the best of +it. I wish he'd do something. Father has really been too tiresome for +words for the last month. If you and I behaved like he does we should +be sent to bed, and serve us right. I wonder what happened last night. +I expect she was at the ball." + +"He wouldn't take any notice of her if she was. I wish we could set +eyes on her. I should like to see what she's really like." + +"Cicely says she's very pretty." + +"Well, I suppose she'd have to be that if Dick wants to marry her. +Aren't men funny about women, Joan? Now I suppose you'd call that +silly little Bobby Trench good-looking, but I should no more want to +marry him than the ugliest man in the world." + +"That isn't much of a discovery. You needn't have lived very long to +find out that women are much more sensible than men." + +With this aphorism Joan rose and proceeded to her toilette, and Nancy, +after indulging in another short nap, followed her example. + +The Squire, refreshed by his night's slumber, rose determined to do his +duty by his guests and put from him for the day all thoughts of Lady +George Dubec and, what was more difficult, of his son Dick. Mrs. +Clinton, when she had returned from the ball, very late, had found him +in a deep sleep in the great canopied bed which she had shared with him +for so many years. He had not awakened during her long muffled process +of undressing, nor when she slipped, careful to make no noise and as +little movement as possible, into bed by his side. But before she +slept he had turned over and, half asleep still, murmured, "Good-night, +Nina. God bless you." It had been his nightly farewell of her for +nearly forty years, uttered often with no special meaning, sometimes +even without interval at the end of some unreasonable expression of +annoyance. But last night the words had come softly and +affectionately, as if, returning for a moment from the pleasant land of +oblivion, where he had been wandering and to which he was immediately +returning, he had been glad to find her waiting for him, his close +companion, valued above others. She had put her hand softly on to his, +and lain for a long time, in the deep silence of the night, in that +light contact. + +The common life of the household at Kencote began with family prayers +at a quarter-past nine, at which, on this Saturday morning, Lady +Aldeburgh and her daughter, Sir Herbert Birkett, Bobby Trench, and +Humphrey failed to put in an appearance. The Judge had been up at +seven, reading in his bedroom, and appeared with the breakfast dishes, +but Humphrey did not arrive until five minutes later, and the presence +of guests did not avert from him the invariable rebuke of +unpunctuality. "I wish you'd manage to get up in decent time when +you're here," said the Squire. "Where's young Trench?" + +"In his bedroom, I suppose," replied Humphrey coolly, inspecting the +dishes on the side-table. + +The Squire said nothing further, but when he, with most of the party, +was leaving the room half an hour later, and met Bobby Trench, to whom +the morning light had apparently brought a renewal of self-content, +entering it, he greeted him with an earnest enquiry after his health. + +"Oh, I'm as bobbish as possible, thank you," replied Bobby Trench +brightly. + +"I'm glad of that," said the Squire, passing on. "I thought as you +didn't come down at the proper time you must have been feeling poorly." + +Bobby Trench stared at his broad retreating back in amazement. "Lor'! +What a house!" was his inward exclamation, as he went on into the +dining-room. + +Humphrey, who was deliberate in his meals, was still at the table, and +Joan was leaning on the back of his chair. She was making some +suggestion as to pecuniary profit to herself and Nancy from the day's +sport, which yet should not amount to a bet. + +"Hullo, old man!" said Humphrey. "Joan, ring the bell. Everything +must be cold by this time." + +Joan hesitated. Such a proceeding was unheard of at Kencote, where, if +people came down late for breakfast, they must expect it to be cold. +But Bobby Trench politely anticipated her. "Don't you trouble, Miss +Joan," he said, going to the bell himself. "I say, are you going to +stand with me to-day and see me shoot?" + +If Nancy had been there to support her she would have asked innocently, +"Can you shoot?" for although she liked being addressed as "Miss Joan," +she did not like Bobby Trench's free and easy air. But maiden modesty +replied for her, "I think I'm going with Humphrey." + +"She wants me to give her a shilling for every bird I miss, and she'll +give me sixpence for every one I knock over. How does that strike you +for a soft thing?" + +A footman came in at that moment, and looked surprised at the order +that was given him. + +"Do you want heverythink cooked, sir, or only some fresh tea?" he +asked, with a glance at the table where the lamps were still sizzling +under the hot dishes. + +"We live a life of rigid punctuality in this house," Humphrey +apologised, when he had retired with his order. "They don't understand +renewing the supplies." + +"Sorry to give so much trouble," replied Bobby Trench, "but I'm pretty +peckish, to tell you the truth. Dancing always gives me a twist. Look +here, Miss Joan, I'll bet you half a dozen pair of gloves I kill more +birds than Humphrey." + +"Take him, Joan; it's a certainty," said Humphrey. + +Joan was secretly enchanted at being treated as of a glovable age, but +she answered primly, "Thank you, Mr. Trench, I'm not allowed to bet." + +"Oh, ho!" jeered Humphrey. "What about that shilling you and Nancy got +from me?" + +"Dick said we ought not to have done it, and we weren't to do it any +more," said Joan. + +Humphrey was silent. Bobby Trench, who was good-natured enough to take +pleasure in the innocent conversation of extreme feminine youth, +especially when it was allied to beauty, as in the case of the twins, +said, "Well, of course, you must always do what you're told, mustn't +you? But I'll tell you what, we won't call it a bet, but if I don't +kill more birds than Humphrey I'll give you six pairs of gloves--see? +Only you'll have to stand by me half the time and him half the time, to +count." + +"Oh, she doesn't want gloves," said Humphrey, with some approach to his +father's manner. "Cut along upstairs, Joan, or you'll have Miss Bird +after you." + +"Miss Bird has departed," said Joan, but she went out of the room, +somewhat relieved at the conclusion of what might have developed into +an embarrassing episode. + +At half-past ten the big shooting-brake appeared at the door, and the +whole party, men and women, got into it, with the exception of Mrs. +Clinton, and Lady Aldeburgh and her daughter, who had not yet made an +appearance. The Squire had been extremely annoyed at this. "She's as +strong as a horse," he had said of his kinsman's wife, "and when she +stays in other people's houses she ought to keep their hours. And as +for the girl, if she can't get up to breakfast after a ball, she +oughtn't to go to balls. I'll tell you what, Nina, I'm hanged if I'm +going to keep the whole party waiting for them. We start at half-past +ten sharp, and if you can't rout 'em out by then, you must wait and +bring 'em on afterwards in the carriage." + +Mrs. Clinton had not felt equal to the task of routing out her guests, +and the brake had driven off, within three minutes of the half-hour, +without them. + +It was a deliciously mild morning. The sun, shining palely in a sky of +misty blue, gave it an illusive air of spring; blackbirds whistled in +the copses; the maze of tree-twigs in distant woods showed purple +against the wet green of the meadows; the air was virginally fresh, and +had the fragrance of rich moist earth and a hint of wood smoke. Brown +beech leaves still clung to the hedges on either side of the deep muddy +country lanes, and blackberries, saturated with dew, on the brambles. + +Servants and dogs and guns had been sent on a quarter of an hour +before. The Squire, on these important occasions, when he took the +cream of his preserves and began at an outlying wood, to finish up just +before dark with the home coverts, liked to drive up to the place +appointed and find everything ready for an immediate start. Beaters +must be in place ready for the whistle on the instant. Guns must be +posted for the first drive with no delay whatever. There was a lot to +get through before dusk, and no time must be wasted. If those who were +asked to shoot at Kencote on the big days did their parts, he--and +Dick--and the keepers would do theirs and show them as pretty a +succession of drives, with an occasional walk over stubble or a field +of roots to vary the proceedings, as they would get anywhere in +England. Only there must be no dawdling, and the women who were +permitted to look on must subordinate their uncontrolled natures to the +business in hand. + +All the arrangements necessary to make the machinery run without a +hitch, so that none of the full day's programme should be hurried, +meant a great deal of preliminary consultation and adjustment. Bunch, +the head-keeper, admirable in his capacity for generalling his little +army of beaters and for faithfully carrying out instructions, had no +initiative of his own, and the Squire had always relied upon Dick--and +relied on him much more than he knew--for arranging the plan of +campaign. This time he had had to do it alone, with much consequent +irritation to himself and bewilderment and head-scratching to honest, +velveteen-clad Bunch. And he had relied on Dick's coolness--also much +more than he knew--to get the guns posted expeditiously and with as +little friction of talk and enquiry as possible. To-day he would have +to rely on Humphrey to help him, and Humphrey was as yet untried in +this capacity. He was anxious and worried as he drove, sitting on the +high box-seat beside his coachman, and itching to handle his horses +himself as he always did except on shooting days, when he wanted to +save his hands. Usually he sat behind, but this morning he felt he +could not take his part in the talk and laughter that went on in the +body of the brake. He was not at all sure how the day would turn out. +There were several points at which a hitch might occur. Following a +light suggestion of Dick's, he had arranged to take High Beach Wood the +opposite way to that in which it had always been taken, and he was not +at all sure that Bunch had fully understood his testily given +instructions--or, indeed, that he fully understood them himself. Nor +was he quite certain of his guns, and he wanted to kill a respectable +head of game. The two local notabilities whom he had invited, old Mr. +Wilkinson, of Birfield, and Colonel Stacey, who lived in a villa in +Bathgate, and shot steadily through the season within a radius of forty +miles, he could rely on. Humphrey was a good shot, though not so good +as Dick. Sir Herbert Birkett was surprisingly good, for a Londoner, on +his day, but when it wasn't his day he was surprisingly bad, and didn't +even care enough about it to make the usual lamentations. George +Senhouse enjoyed it thoroughly, but never touched a feather. +Hammond-Watt and Bobby Trench he knew nothing whatever about, but it +was unlikely that either of them would turn out above the average. He +could only hope that they would not turn out very much worse. At any +rate, at the best, it was not a team that could be expected to create a +record in the Kencote preserves, and at the worst might bring disgrace +on them. + +He could not help thinking of these things and worrying about them. If +Dick had been there he would have calmed those uneasy tremors. He +would have told him that the birds would show up well, even if the guns +didn't, that the experts were at least equal to the duffers and the +doubtfuls, putting everything in a hopeful light, not anticipating any +possible hitch, but quite ready to deal with it if it should come. +Dick never lost sight of the fact that they were out for a day's sport; +the Squire fussed and worried so about trifles that all such sense of +pleasure was apt to leave him. He had an uneasy, half-defined feeling +that his temperament caused him to err in this way, and it made him +want Dick, who could relieve him of the weight of small anxieties, all +the more. He was learning how much he had been wont to depend on his +son. One of the impulses of appeal and affection, which continually +shot across the stiff web of his obstinate determination, came to him +now, and if Dick could have appeared at that moment he would have +welcomed him with open arms, and given way in everything. But Dick was +away, he did not know where, and with a sigh he resigned himself to the +prospect of a day of anxiety. + +They came to an open gate by the roadside and drove in through a strip +of wood until they came to an open space in front of a keeper's +cottage. It stood, backed by trees, facing a wide sloping meadow, +which was completely surrounded by a wood of oak and beech, intermixed +with spruce and some firs. The little group of loaders with their +masters' guns and cartridge-bags stood ready by the palings, the glossy +coated retrievers waved welcoming tails as the brake drove up, the +hoof-beats of the horses muffled on the thick grass. The beaters were +already in line at the other end of the wood, far out of sight, waiting +for Bunch's signal. There was nothing to do but place the guns and +prepare for the stream of pheasants which would presently begin to fly +over them. Except that neither Mr. Wilkinson nor Colonel Stacey had +yet arrived. + +It was the first check to the prompt orderly proceedings of the day. +The Squire, taking his gun from the hands of an under-keeper and +filling the pockets of his wide shooting-jacket with cartridges, gave +vent to a forcible expression of irritation. "Now there we are, held +back at the very start!" he exclaimed. "'Pon my word, it's too bad of +those fellows. I told 'em eleven o'clock sharp, and they've shot here +dozens of times before and know the place as well as I do." + +"It's only just five minutes to eleven," said Humphrey, and as he spoke +Mr. Wilkinson's dog-cart drove in from the wood, bringing himself and +Colonel Stacey, all ready for immediate business. Before eleven +o'clock struck from the cuckoo-clock in the keeper's kitchen the whole +party was walking down the meadow to line the borders of the wood and +do what execution they might. + +Humphrey showed himself efficient in translating the Squire's +intentions as to the placing of the guns, from the notes he had jotted +down on a sheet of letter paper. He knew that inextricable confusion +would arise later if those notes were to be followed literally, but +trusted to be able to arrange things by word of mouth when the time +came, as most people were content to do. + +So they stood and waited. From the keeper's cottage up the hill you +could have seen the eight little groups, standing expectantly on the +grass at a short distance from the wood, following the curve of its +line. Behind each stood a gaitered loader with another gun ready to +hand to his master. The women, in clothes not distinguishable in +colour from those of the men, stood with them; the dogs squatted by the +side of their masters or tugged at leashes held by the men. Blackbirds +popped in and out of the wood, and thrushes, but there were few sounds +of life. There was a hush of expectancy, and otherwise only the deep +winter stillness of nature, and the pale sun, and the wet odour of the +soil. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GUNS AND THE LADIES + +Nancy stood with her uncle, as she had announced her intention of +doing. Sir Herbert, in a Norfolk jacket of voluminous tweed and a +green Tyrolean hat, would hardly have been recognised by those who had +only seen him in his Judge's robes. He asked Nancy as they were +waiting whether she thought he was properly attired. "I like to do the +thing thoroughly while I'm about it," he said. "I notice that nobody +but myself is wearing these buttoned things--spats I think they call +them. I think you might have written, Nancy, to tell me they had gone +out of fashion. Do you think I could take them off and throw them away +presently? I don't know what good they are. It is only a passion for +being correctly dressed that induced me to put them on." + +"I think they look very nice," said Nancy. "And as for your hat, Uncle +Herbert, I'm sure it's the very latest thing, because Humphrey has got +one just like it. But it wants a woodcock's feather in it." + +"Oh, does it? Thank you for telling me. I shall direct my attention +to-day to shooting a woodcock if one turns up, and robbing him of his +feather. It is very unpleasant and takes away your conceit of yourself +not to have everything exactly right. With your intelligence you no +doubt understand that." + +"Joan understands it better than I do," replied Nancy. "She likes to +be well dressed. I don't care about it one way or the other." + +"Ah! but that's such a mistake," said Sir Herbert, "especially for a +female, if I may call you so. When your body is well dressed your mind +is well dressed. You should look into that." + +"I have," said Nancy. "It's all a question of buttons." + +What she meant by this aphorism did not appear, for a shot from the +right of the line made Sir Herbert spring to attention, and immediately +after, with a sudden whir, a high pheasant shot like a bullet over his +head, and flying straight into the charge from his gun, turned over in +the air and fell with a thud on the grass far behind him. + +"Glorious!" exclaimed the Judge. "I'm in form." But although he fired +many barrels during the next few minutes, in which a hot fusillade was +going on on the right and on the left, and birds were falling, clean +shot, or sliding to the ground with wings outspread, or continuing +their swift flight unshaken, he brought only one down, with a broken +wing, which ran off into the shaugh at the top of the hill. + +"Now that is most disappointing," he said, when the tap-tap of the +beaters' sticks could be heard, and they began to emerge from the wood +one by one. "I really did think I was going to shoot well to-day. +Life is full of such delusive hopes." + +"I'm glad you didn't shoot too many," said Nancy. "They're such pretty +things, and I like to see them get away." + +"So do I, in theory," said Sir Herbert. "In practice, no. Do you +think it is the lust for killing, as some people say?" + +"Oh no," said Nancy. "I have thought about that. If it were, I +shouldn't want to come out. It is the skill." + +"I think you're right, Nancy. That, and what remains of the primitive +instinct of the chase. You had to kill your food, and you kept your +health by doing so. You killed two birds with one stone." + +"And now you don't even kill one bird with two barrels," said Nancy, +with a side-glance at his eye. + +He met her mischievous gaze. "Nancy," he said, "if you had said that +on the bench they would have put it in the papers--with headlines; as +it is, I've a good mind to commit you for contempt of court." + +The divided groups began to congregate. The Squire came round the +corner very well pleased with himself. In spite of his preoccupation +he had shot quite up to his form. And his good-humour was confirmed at +the discovery that Hammond-Watt could be classed as a doubtful no +longer, for he had killed more birds than anybody, and killed them +clean, and that Bobby Trench had also given a fair account of himself. +The day had begun well, and the fact that Sir Herbert had only shot two +pheasants, one of which had got away, and George Senhouse had shot +none, although, as is the unaccountable way of driven birds, they had +come over him more thickly than over any one else, did not avail to +dash his satisfaction. He led the way to the next stand, down a +woodland ride, in high good-humour, walking with great strides, which +Lady Birkett, who accompanied him, found some difficulty in keeping up +with. "I hope Herbert will pick up," he said, laughing good-humoredly +at his brother-in-law's misfortune. "Now I'm never very much away from +my form, either above or below. Funny thing--form! Even when I'm +worried to death about things it don't seem to make much difference to +my eye." + +But when the next drive was over, and he had only shot two pheasants, +neither of them clean, and a rabbit, he said, "It's all this infernal +worry. No man on earth, I don't care who he is, can shoot straight if +he's got something weighing on his mind." + +Lady Birkett was consolatory. "My dear Edward, don't think about it," +she said. "It will all come right." + +"I wish I thought so," said the Squire. "I think if I had that woman +here I'd put a charge of shot into her." + +During the course of the morning the twins came together to compare +notes. "Humphrey is shooting quite well," said Joan, "but, all the +same, if he had fallen in with my suggestion we should have scooped +twenty-four shillings. I reckon it up after every drive and tell him +the result. I am hoping that he will be so pleased with himself that +he will offer to settle up at the end of the day of his own accord." + +"Don't make it too much," advised Nancy. "Ten shillings in our pockets +are better than twenty in his." + +"Bobby Trench offered to take over the arrangement," said Joan. + +Nancy threw back her fair hair. "It's a pity to waste an opportunity," +she said, "but of course you can't accept a tip from him." + +"My dear, as if I would!" exclaimed Joan. "But he's very pushing. +It's difficult to keep him at a distance. I think I shall go and stand +with Mr. Wilkinson. He's a dear old thing, and I think he'd be +flattered." + +"Oh, don't forsake Humphrey, for goodness' sake, if he's in a good +temper," advised Nancy. + +"Well, Bobby Trench is such a nuisance. He comes over and talks to us +while we're waiting." + +"If you stick on till lunch-time I'll change with you after. Uncle +Herbert is shooting very badly, but he's full of conversation. And I +didn't tell you--he asked after the camera fund. I don't know who can +have told him--Dick, I suppose. Dear old Dick; I wish he was here!" + +"So do I," said Joan. "Did Uncle Herbert show any signs of +contributing?" + +"I expect he will. But I didn't want to appear too mercenary; I +skilfully changed the subject." + +"That ought to do the trick," observed Joan. "I don't mind a bit +taking it from relations. They ought to be encouraged to do their +duty." + +"All old people ought to tip all young ones," said Nancy largely. "You +might convey that truth delicately to Mr. Wilkinson." + +"I might, but I'm not going to." + +"Or Colonel Stacey. Why not try him? He's old enough." + +"You can do your own dirty work," said Joan, preparing to leave her. +"Colonel Stacey is very poor. He lives in a tiny little house. I +shall sit next to him at luncheon, and see that he gets a jolly good +one." + +The Squire shot worse and worse as the morning went on, and through +over-anxiety and confused instructions the birds were not driven +properly out of High Beech Wood, which ought to have afforded the best +drive of the day. They streamed away to the right of where the Squire +was standing, where there was neither a gun nor a stop, or went back +over the heads of the keepers. Humphrey had suggested placing a gun +where those that were got out of the wood eventually came over, and +because he had pooh-poohed the suggestion the Squire was furious with +him. Dick would have put a gun there without asking him. But Humphrey +now could do nothing right. After this fiasco he suggested sending to +the keeper's cottage, where luncheon was to be served, to tell them to +set the tables outside. There was a warm grove of beeches at the back +of it, where they sometimes did lunch earlier in the season, and to-day +it was fine and sunny enough to have made it more pleasant to sit in +the open than in a crowded room in a cottage. But the Squire said, +"For God's sake, don't be altering arrangements now, and throwing +everything out," so Humphrey had retired and told Bobby Trench that his +governor was like a bear with a sore head. + +"I thought he seemed rather passionate," said Bobby Trench pleasantly. +"Not pulling 'em down, I suppose. It does put you out, you know." + +"He'd better manage for himself," said Humphrey sulkily. "If he likes +to make a mess of it, let him." + +Joan, who was with them, grew red at this discussion. "Father has had +a lot of worries," she said. "I think you ought to help him all you +can, Humphrey." + +Humphrey stared at her, and Bobby Trench said, "Bravo, Miss Joan, you +stick up for your own." + +"I'm going to," said Joan, and turned back to join Beatrice Senhouse, +who was just behind them. At the next stand, the last of the morning, +she went up to her father and said, "I'm going to count your birds, +daddy, and I'll give you a kiss for every one you let off." + +The Squire's worried face brightened. "I thought you'd forsaken your +poor old father," he said. "Well, I'm letting plenty of them off, but +we'll see what we can do this time." + +Whether encouraged or not by his prospective reward, he acquitted +himself well during the ensuing drive, in the course of which he got +two high birds with a right and left, and another one going away with a +quick change of guns; and when the drive was over he handed his gun to +his loader, and put his hand on Joan's shoulder to walk towards the +cottage, with a face all smiles. + +Mrs. Clinton, with Lady Aldeburgh and her daughter, met them at the +garden gate. "I have told them to put the table outside," she said, as +they came up, and the Squire said, "Capital idea, Nina, capital idea!" +and turning to Lady Aldeburgh twitted her on her late appearance. +"You've missed some good sport," he said. "But we'll see what we can +show you this afternoon." + +Lady Aldeburgh, in a costume of Lincoln green with a short skirt bound +in brown leather, looked younger than her own daughter, and felt no +older than a child. "Oh, do let me stand by you, Mr. Clinton, and see +you shoot," she said, clasping her hands appealingly. "I'll promise +not to chatter." + +"That woman's a fool," said Joan, who had withdrawn from the group to +join Nancy. + +She sat next to Colonel Stacey at luncheon, as she had undertaken to +do, and was assiduous in attending to his bodily wants. He was of the +skeleton-like, big-moustached order of retired warrior, and looked very +much as if he suffered from a lack of nutriment, although as a matter +of fact he was accustomed to "do himself" remarkably well, shirking +nothing in the way of food and drink that other men of his age were apt +to look askance at. He made an extremely good meal, and Joan took +credit to herself for his doing so, although he did not repay her +attentions with much notice, being well able to forage for himself. +Mr. Wilkinson, who sat on her other side, was far more communicative +and friendly, in a sort of pleasant, grandfatherly way; and as the +three of them were standing together when luncheon was over, he took +half a sovereign out of his pocket and said, "Now if I know anything of +young women of your age, and I ought to by this time, I dare say you +and Nancy will find some use for that." + +Joan accepted it with gratitude. Her mind was at ease; she had not +worked for it in any way. It was a most acceptable windfall. "Oh, +thank you so much, Mr. Wilkinson," she said. "Now we shall be able to +buy our camera. We have been saving up for it for a long time." + +"That's capital," said old Mr. Wilkinson, patting her on the shoulder +and moving off. + +Colonel Stacey, now that he had satisfied the claims of appetite, had +some attention to spare for his late neighbour, who was really a very +nice-mannered child, and not greedy as most children are, but +well-behaved towards her elders. He in his turn pulled out a well-worn +leather purse and extracted half a sovereign from it. Joan, seeing +what was coming, had a moment of panic, and turned quickly away. But +he stopped her and said, "There, take that; that makes one for each of +you." + +Joan's face was scarlet. "Oh, thanks most awfully," she said +hurriedly. "But we've got quite enough now," and then she fairly ran +away, leaving Colonel Stacey, surprised at the curious ways of young +girls, to put his half-sovereign philosophically back into his purse. + +Lady Aldeburgh accompanied the Squire during most of the afternoon, and +by a judicious use of flattery and girlish charm kept him in so good a +humour with himself that he shot much better than in the morning, and +fussed considerably less over details of arrangement than he would +otherwise have done. + +He could not have told how it came to pass, although Lady Aldeburgh +might have been able to enlighten him, that as they were walking +together down a muddy country lane, with the rest of the party +straggling after them, he poured into her sympathetic ear the story of +what he was now accustomed to call Dick's entanglement. + +Lady Aldeburgh bounded mentally over five-and-twenty or thirty years +and became matronly, even maternal. + +"I have heard something about it, dear Mr. Clinton," she said, "and +have been longing to tell you how much I sympathised with you. But I +hardly liked to until you had spoken first. Of course one's children +do give one trouble in many ways, and an old married woman like myself +who has had a long experience can often help, with sympathy if not with +advice. So I am very glad you have told me." + +The Squire found this attitude right, and soothing besides. "Well, of +course, it's an impossible idea," he said. "I shan't give in about it. +Have you seen this woman, by the by?" + +"I saw her last night," said Lady Aldeburgh, "and of course I've heard +of her. She is not the sort of woman that I should care for a son of +mine to marry. She seemed to me an affected, underbred minx." + +"You thought that, did you?" exclaimed the Squire, his eyes +brightening. "Now it's the most extraordinary thing that the people +round here can't see that. Even my cousin, old Humphrey Meadshire, +seemed to be quite taken in by her." + +"Oh, well--men!" said Lady Aldeburgh meaningly. + +"Ah, but it isn't only men," said the Squire. "It's the women too. +They're all ready to take her in as if she was one of themselves. Now +I saw at once, the first time I set eyes on her, what sort of a woman +she was. I don't profess to be more clear-sighted than other people, +but--but, still, there it is. You saw it, and of course you go about +more than the women do here, most of 'em, and know more of the world." + +"I should hope I do, the frumps!" was Lady Aldeburgh's inward comment, +but she said, "I know your Dick--not so well as I do Humphrey, but +pretty well--and I say that he is much too fine a fellow to throw +himself away like that. Still, if he has made up his mind about it, +what can you do?" + +He told her what he could do, and to some extent had done--withdraw or +threaten to withdraw supplies, and she commended this course warmly. +"That ought to bring him to his senses," she said. "And if it +doesn't--well, you have other sons." + +The Squire did not quite like this implication. He had never yet faced +the question of what he would do after Dick got married, if he should +get married in spite of him. But certainly, the prospect of +disinheriting him had never crossed his mind. + +"I have never met your second son, I think," said Lady Aldeburgh. +"He's a doctor, isn't he?" + +"Oh, that's Walter," said the Squire. "You'll see him this evening. +He's the third. Humphrey comes next to Dick." + +"Oh!" said Lady Aldeburgh, who had the same means of access to works of +reference dealing with the County Families of England as other people, +and used them not less frequently. + +"You know we had to stop the same sort of thing with Clinton a few +years ago," said Lady Aldeburgh. "He was wild to marry one of the +Frivolity girls--pretty creature she was too, I must admit that, and +quite respectable, and it really went to my heart to have to stop it. +But of course it would never have done. And what made it so difficult +for a time was that we had no hold over Clinton about money and that +sort of thing. He _must_ come in for everything." + +"Oh, well," said the Squire airily, "I couldn't cut Dick out of Kencote +eventually, whatever he did. But he wouldn't find things very easy if +Kencote were all there was to come into." + +Lady Aldeburgh took this, and took it rightly, as meaning that there +was a good deal of unsettled property which the Squire could leave as +he liked, which may or may not have been what she had wanted to find +out. "Then you have an undoubted hold over him," she said. "Of +course, I know it must be very unpleasant for you to have to exercise +it, but, if I may say so, it seems to me that simply to threaten to +withdraw his allowance if he should marry against your wishes won't +stop him if he can look forward to having everything by and by." + +"He wouldn't have everything, anyhow," said the Squire. + +"Well, whatever he is going to have besides the place. You don't mind +my talking of all this, do you? I've not the slightest desire to poke +into affairs that don't concern me." + +"Very good of you to take such an interest in it all," said the Squire. +"I don't mind telling you in the least--it's quite simple. Kencote has +always been entailed, but there's a good deal of land and a +considerable amount of other property which doesn't go with it. Dick +won't be as well off as I was when I succeeded my grandfather, because +there was nobody but me, except some old aunts, and I've got a large +family to provide for. Still, he'll be a good deal better off than +most men with a big place to keep up, and there'll be plenty left for +the rest." + +"That's if he does as you wish," said Lady Aldeburgh. + +"Well, I hadn't thought of it in that way," admitted the Squire. + +"But, my dear man," she exclaimed, "you are not using your best +weapon--your only weapon. If he is infatuated with this woman do you +think he will be prevented from marrying her by your stopping his +allowance? Of course he won't. He can get what money he wants for the +present, and she has some, I suppose. He only has to marry and sit +down and wait." + +"Then what ought I to do?" asked the Squire grumpily. He knew what she +meant, and hated the idea of it. + +"Why, tell him that if he makes this marriage you won't leave him a +penny more than you're obliged to." + +"If I said that I should commit myself." + +"You mean if you threatened it, you'd have to do it. Well, I think you +would. Yours--ours, I should say--is one of the oldest families in +England, and you are the head of it. You can't see it let down like +that." + +This was balm to the Squire, but it did not relieve the heaviness of +his heart. "I believe I shall have to do something of that sort," he +said, "or threaten it anyhow," and having arrived at the place for the +next drive, he turned with a sigh to the business in hand. + +The short winter day came to an end, and at dusk they found themselves +on the edge of the park, after having shot the birds out of the last +covert. They strolled home across the frosty grass, under the +darkening sky already partly illumined by a round moon, merry or quiet, +pleased or vexed with themselves, according to their several natures +and the way they had acquitted themselves in the day's sport, and the +warm, well-lighted house swallowed them up. + +Joan and Nancy went up to their room. "You haven't been near me all +the afternoon," said Nancy. "Here's half a crown from Humphrey. It's +disappointing. Did you do any business with Uncle Herbert?" + +For answer Joan burst out crying. "I hate all this beastly cadging for +money," she said through her tears, "and I won't do it any more." + +"Well, don't howl," said Nancy, "or you'll look awful when we go +downstairs. What has happened?" + +"Mr. Wilkinson gave me ten b--bob," sobbed Joan. "I didn't ask him for +it. And then poor old Colonel Stacey thought he must do the same, so +he took out a sh-shabby old purse and offered me another one, and I +believe it was the only one in it. And I wouldn't take it." + +"Do pull yourself together, old girl," entreated Nancy. "Well, if he's +so hard up, I think it was rather a delicate action." + +Joan turned on her, and her tears were dried up by the heat of her +indignation. "You're always talking about your brains," she said, "and +you can't see anything. Of course, I should have felt a beast anyhow, +but I feel much more of a beast for taking Mr. Wilkinson's tip and +refusing his." + +"Why?" asked Nancy. + +"Because he'd know I thought he was too poor," said Joan, her tears +breaking out afresh. + +Nancy considered this. "I dare say he didn't think much about it," she +said. "But why didn't you go and make up to him afterwards, if you +felt like that? Do leave off blubbering." + +Joan took no heed of this advice. A physically tiring day and the +distress she had kept down during the afternoon had been too much for +her, and now she was lying on her bed sobbing unrestrainedly. "I +w-would have gone to stand with him," she said. "P-poor old d-darling, +he looked so lonely standing there all by himself, for no one went near +him, except m-mother, once. B-but I thought he'd think I wanted the +t-tip after all, so I d-didn't. Here's Mr. Wilkinson's half-sovereign. +You can take it. I don't want it." + +"Well, if you don't, I don't," said Nancy, picking up the coin which +Joan had thrown on to the floor, nevertheless, and putting it on to the +dressing-table. "I don't know why you're always trying to make me out +more hard-hearted than you are. Shall I fetch mother?" + +"N-no. Y-yes," said Joan. + +So Mrs. Clinton was fetched, and heard the story, sitting on the bed, +while Joan sobbed on her shoulder. Nancy leant on the rail and helped +to explain matters. She now felt like crying herself. "We have a sort +of joke with the boys," she said. "They understand it all right, but, +of course, we wouldn't go asking everybody for money, mother." + +"I think you are getting rather too old to accept money presents from +any one outside the family," Mrs. Clinton said, "although it was very +kind of Mr. Wilkinson to give you one, and I don't mind your having +taken it in the least. And I'm sure Colonel Stacey didn't think +anything of your refusing, Joan dear. So I shouldn't worry any more +about that; and I think you had better have some tea up here and lie +down till dinner-time." + +So Joan's tender heart was comforted, and Colonel Stacey kept his +half-sovereign, which if he could not have afforded to lose he would +never have thought of offering. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE MONEY QUESTION + +Walter Clinton, with his wife and two little girls, arrived at Kencote +an hour or so before dinner-time, and the Squire instantly seized upon +him for a confabulation. "George Senhouse is in my room," he said, +"and the rest are playing pool. Come into the smoking-room. I want to +speak to you." + +Walter followed him through the baize door and down the stone passage. +He was not so handsome as Dick nor so smart-looking as Humphrey, but he +was tall and well set up, with an air of energy and good-humour that +was attractive. "It's jolly to be here for a bit again," he said. +"I've been working like a nigger. We've got a regular plague of +influenza at Melbury Park." + +The Squire grunted. He was pleased enough to see his son, but he +always shied at the words Melbury Park, and rather disliked mention of +Walter's profession, which had been none of his choosing. + +"Well, I suppose you've heard of this wretched business of Dick's," he +said, as he lighted a big cigar. + +Walter filled his pipe, standing by the fire. "Yes. I've seen him," +he said. + +The Squire held the match in his hand as he exclaimed, "You've seen +him, eh?" + +"Yes, he spent Christmas with us," said Walter. + +The Squire threw the match, which had begun to burn his fingers, into +the grate. "Why on earth didn't you let me know?" he asked. + +"He didn't want me to," replied Walter, taking his seat in one of the +shabby easy-chairs. + +The Squire thought this over. It affected him disagreeably, making him +feel very far from his son. "Was he all right?" he asked. + +"Of course, he was worried," said Walter. "He was all right otherwise." + +"Well, now, don't you think he's behaving in a most monstrous way?" +asked the Squire, anxious to substitute a mood of righteous anger for +one of painful longing. + +"Well, I can't say I do," replied Walter. + +"Oh, he's talked you over. But I'll tell you this, Walter, he shall +_not_ marry this woman, and drag us all in the mud. You ought to be +doing what you can to stop it, too, instead of encouraging him." + +"I'm not encouraging him," said Walter. "It wouldn't make any +difference whether I encouraged him or discouraged him, either. He has +made up his mind to marry her and he's going to do it." + +"I tell you he is _not_ going to do it." The Squire hitched himself +forward out of the depths of his chair to give more weight to his +pronouncement. + +Walter remained silent, with a mental shrug, and the Squire was rather +at a loss to know how to proceed. "Do you know what this woman is +like?" he asked. + +"I've seen her photograph and heard what Dick has to say about her," +said Walter. + +"Oh, Dick! Dick's infatuated, of course. I should have thought you +would have had more sense than to swallow his description of her +blindly. She's--oh, I can't trust myself to say what she is. But I'll +tell you this. I'd rather Kencote passed out of the Clinton family +altogether than that she came to be mistress of it." + +"Well, that won't happen for a great many years, I hope," said Walter. + +"It will _never_ happen," said the Squire, with immense emphasis. + +Again Walter was silent, and his father slightly embarrassed. "How is +he going to get married, I should like to know," he asked presently, +"if I don't help him? I've told him that the moment he does marry I +shall help him no longer. I don't suppose he's got a couple of hundred +pounds in the world. He can marry with that, but he can't live on it. +He's not going to live on her money, I suppose." + +"No, he's got a job," said Walter calmly. + +Again the Squire stared. "Got a job!" he repeated. "What sort of a +job?" + +"Quite a good one. Agent to John Spence up in Norfolk--the chap who +was in his regiment." + +The Squire's surprise, and what must be called, in view of his thwarted +diplomacy, discomposure, were indicated by his dropped jaw. Walter +went on in even tone. "He's to get six hundred a year and a house. +There's a place in Warwickshire too, which he'll have to look after. +He was just going to take quite a small thing in Ireland, but Spence +heard he was available and rushed up and booked him. You see, he knows +his job well." + +Of course he knew his job well. Hadn't the Squire taken a pride ever +since he had been the smallest of small boys in initiating him into it? +Hadn't he seen to it that if he learned nothing else during his long +and expensive school and university education, he should learn all that +could be learnt about the land and the intricacies of estate +management? And hadn't he rejoiced in seeing him take kindly to it +ever since? He had been quite content to spend the greater part of his +leave at home, often working as hard as if he were a paid agent, even +taking papers up to London, working at them there, and writing long +letters. He had not been content to take a general interest in the +property to which he was one day to succeed, riding or walking about +the place and leaving details to the agent and the estate staff. Why, +it had been possible, ten years before, when the old agent had been +superannuated, to dispense with one altogether for six months, nobody +suitable having come forward; and the present one, Mr. Haydon, was +hardly more than a bailiff. And more convincingly still, lately, had +the Squire discovered that Dick knew his job. He thought he knew it +himself, but he had been lost without him, and if Dick continued to +keep away from Kencote, he would have to make new arrangements +altogether, and get some one in the place of Mr. Haydon to help him. + +And now all Dick's knowledge and experience were to be used to thwart +him. It would no longer be available for the benefit of Kencote. That +was bad enough in itself, but it was far worse to know that it had made +Dick independent of him and himself powerless. For the first time in +this unhappy business he felt an impulse of pure anger against his son. +Hitherto he had been grieved about him, and only angry against others. +Now, as these thoughts passed through his mind, he broke out, "That's +the most disgraceful thing I've heard of yet. Going to throw the whole +place over, is he, and leave me to do the best I can, while he goes and +takes service under somebody else? Very well, then. If he is going to +throw Kencote over, Kencote will throw him over. I've had as much as I +can stand. Now I'll act, and act in a way that will surprise him." + +Walter looked up in alarmed surprise. He thought he knew his father, +and exactly how far he would go. He had known in discussing matters +with Dick that he would make a fuss, and go on making it, until things +were accomplished which would make it useless for him to fuss any +further. But he had always taken it for granted that Dick had the +cards in his hand, and that in the long run he must win the game. But +this looked as if they had both miscalculated Dick's hand, and that a +trump they had thought to be in his possession was really in his +father's. + +"What do you mean?" he asked. + +"I mean," said the Squire boldly, "that if Dick persists in the course +he is taking, I shall make a new will, and I shan't leave him a penny +or an acre of land beyond what he gets under the entail." + +This was plain enough, but Walter could scarcely believe his ears as he +heard it, so entirely subversive was it of all ideas in which he had +been brought up. He had never bothered himself much about money. He +knew that he would have something by and by, something probably more +substantial than the average younger son's portion, that there was, +indeed, plenty of money for all of them. But he had taken it for +granted, in the same way that he took the daily rise of the sun for +granted, that the bulk of it would go with the place--go, that is, to +Dick. And, knowing his father as he did, and the principles that +guided him, he could not, even now, believe that he really meant to act +in a way so destructive of all Kencote ideals as he had indicated. + +"Surely you're not going to break the place up!" he said. + +"If Dick doesn't come to his senses that's what I will do," said the +Squire. "And if I once do it I shan't alter it. I shall have the will +prepared, and the day Dick marries this woman I shall sign it. You can +tell him that. I'll have nothing more to do with him, directly. He +has behaved disgracefully to me, never sending a line for over a month, +and letting me know his plans through you. Now you can tell him mine, +and you can tell him I'm in earnest." He marched out of the room +without further words, leaving Walter with the feeling of a man who has +just passed through an earthquake. + +Late that night when everybody had gone up to bed Walter went into +Humphrey's room. They had not had a chance of speaking together +before. He told him of what had happened, of what Dick had told him at +Melbury Park, and the Squire that evening downstairs. + +Humphrey received the news in silence, and with mixed sensations. "I +didn't know Dick had been with you," he said presently. + +"He won't come here," said Walter. "He doesn't say much about the +governor, but he's furious with him." + +"I'm afraid he's furious with me too," said Humphrey. "And really it's +rather unreasonable." + +"He didn't say much about you," replied Walter perfunctorily. + +"Well, I can't help it. I've done nothing I'm ashamed of, as far as +he's concerned. And as for Virginia Dubec, I don't care if he marries +her to-morrow." + +Walter was busy with his own thoughts. "I say, do you think the +governor can really mean it?" he asked. + +Humphrey gave rather an unpleasant little laugh. "I hope he does, for +our sakes," he said. + +Walter looked at him uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean?" he asked. + +"Well, I suppose if Dick doesn't get whatever it is, we shall. I could +do with it very well." + +Walter eyed him askance. "I never thought of that," he said rather +coldly. "I should be very sorry to have Dick cut out for my sake." + +"It's all very well for you," Humphrey said. "You have your job, which +you like, and plenty to get on with. And you're married." + +"There's no reason why you shouldn't get married if you want to," said +Walter. + +"I don't know whether it would surprise you to know that I do want to," +replied Humphrey. + +Walter looked at him in surprise. "My dear chap," he said, "I'm +awfully glad. Who is it?" + +"Well, I hadn't meant to say anything until I saw how the land lay, so +keep it to yourself for the present. It's Susan Clinton." + +Walter looked a little blank. He had not been particularly charmed +either with Lady Aldeburgh or her daughter, and he was too +straightforward to feign an enthusiasm which he did not feel. "Will +she have you?" he asked. + +"Oh, I think so," said Humphrey. "We're very good pals. But, of +course, there's Aldeburgh to settle with, or rather her ladyship, +because he lets 'em go their own way and he goes his. It can't be said +to be much of a match. Still, there are four other girls, two of them +out and about, and if the governor sees his way to greasing the wheels, +I ought to be able to pull it off." + +There was something about this speech which displeased Walter. He knew +Humphrey's way of talking and he knew that his dwelling on the +financial side of a marriage, even before he was engaged, might +possibly hide a feeling which he would not want to express. But +somehow he found it difficult to believe that this speech did hide any +particular feeling for Lady Susan Clinton, and equally difficult to +infuse any particular warmth into his congratulations. + +"Well, I'm glad you told me," he said. "If you want to pull it off I +hope you will, and I shouldn't think there would be much difficulty +about money. Besides, you want far less when you're married than you'd +think. Muriel and I aren't spending anything like what we've got, and +we're as happy as possible. I'd advise every fellow to get married, if +he finds a girl who'll fit in with him." + +"Susan and I will fit in together all right," replied Humphrey, "but +we've both been used to crashing about a good deal, and I'm afraid we +shouldn't save much on your income. Besides, Muriel brought you +something, and I don't think Aldeburgh will be likely to cough up much +with Susan. We shall be as poor as church mice, anyhow. But if she +don't mind that I don't particularly, as long as we have enough to get +along on." + +Walter knew well enough that Humphrey hated above all things to feel +poor, and decided that if he was not wishing to marry Susan Clinton for +what she could bring him, he must really love her, in spite of his +mercenary speech. "Well, old chap," he said, with more warmth, "I'm +sure I hope you'll be happy. I haven't spoken to her much, but she +seems a jolly good sort, and she's a sort of relation already, I +suppose. So we ought all to get on with her. Well, I think I'll go +and lie down for a bit before breakfast." + +But Humphrey still had something to say, something which he seemed to +find it rather difficult to say. "Dick and I are not particularly good +friends now," he began. + +"Oh, he was annoyed at your letting out something or other about his +Lady George," said Walter. "But he's all right, really." + +"I shouldn't like him to think," said Humphrey, "that I was working +against him with the governor. But, of course, if he does marry her, +and the governor does what he's threatened to do--well, it would make a +lot of difference to me." + +"He's not likely to think you worked that," said Walter rather coldly. +"And I hope it won't happen. Good-night." + +The next morning the whole party went to church, with the exception of +Lady Aldeburgh, who was averse to making engagements as early as eleven +o'clock. The Squire was displeased at this defection on her part, and +when Bobby Trench came into the hall, as they were setting out, on his +way to the smoking-room, with a pipe in his mouth and a novel under his +arm, he said to him, "Haven't you got a watch? It's ten minutes to +eleven. You'll be late for church." + +"To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking of going," replied Bobby +Trench. "Still, I may as well. I can write my bits of letters +afterwards." + +The Squire grunted and went out. "I'll see that that young cub behaves +himself as long as he's here, at any rate," he said to Mrs. Clinton. + +Bobby Trench winked at Lady Susan, who was standing alone in the hall. +"Cheery sort of place to come to, isn't it?" he said. "Makes you think +yourself back at school again." + +She turned away from him without smiling. "I'm enjoying myself very +much," she said. + +"The deuce you are," said Bobby Trench to himself as he went to deposit +his pipe and his book in the smoking-room. "Sits the wind in that +quarter? But never again, Robert, never again!" + +After church Humphrey said to Susan Clinton, "Come and see old Aunt +Laura with me. She can't get out much in the winter, but she likes to +see people." + +So they went to the little house in the village and found Aunt Laura +nursing the fire, with a Shetland shawl round her bent old shoulders +and a large Church Service on the table by her side. + +She was flattered by the visit of Lady Susan, but a little anxious lest +she should be carrying about any false impression of the relative +importance of the various families of Clinton. "It must be very nice +for you to come to Kencote, my dear," she said. "I dare say you have +often thought about it and wished to see the place. Your +great-grandfather--oh, but I suppose he was much more than that, +great-great-great, very likely--did not behave at all well, but that is +all forgiven and forgotten now, and I am sure there is nobody at +Kencote now who is not pleased to see you." + +"What did my great-great-grandfather do, Miss Clinton?" enquired Lady +Susan indulgently. "I'm sorry he didn't behave well." + +"Oh, my dear, haven't you read about it? It is all in the book about +the Clintons--a very interesting book indeed. He was a younger son and +he fought for the Dissenters against King Charles the First, and when +King Charles was beheaded Oliver Cromwell turned his eldest brother, +who of course was a Royalist, out of Kencote and gave it to your +ancestor. When King Charles the Second came to the throne he gave it +back to its rightful owner, but your ancestor had made a good deal of +money, I'm sure I don't know how, and he was ennobled in the reign of +King William and Queen Mary, but I don't know what for. I dare say the +Clintons of Kencote could have been ennobled many times over if they +had liked, but for my part I am glad they never were. There are very +few commoners' families in England who have gone on for so many years +in one place." + +"Oh, I know," said Lady Susan, with an arch glance at Humphrey. "I +have been told that." + +"Only once by me," replied Humphrey. "I thought you had better know +where you stood once for all. You belong to quite the junior branch, +you know, and you must be properly humbled when you come to Kencote." + +"Oh, there is no necessity for humility," said Aunt Laura, who so long +as she felt that matters were thoroughly understood was anxious that +her visitor should not be unduly cast down. "There are other good +families in England besides the Clintons, and of course you do belong +to us in a way, my dear." + +"We like her to feel that she belongs to us, don't we, Aunt Laura?" +said Humphrey, looking at the girl and not at the old lady. + +Lady Susan blushed. "Oh, of course I belong to you," she said +hurriedly, not meeting his gaze. "And I think Kencote is a lovely +place, much better than Thatchover, where we live." + +"Ah, I have never seen that," said Aunt Laura. "I have seen Kemsale, +my cousin Humphrey's place. I hear there is to be a ball there +to-morrow night, and I suppose you are all going. I shall not be able +to be present, although I have received an invitation. It was very +thoughtful of Eleanor Kemsale to send me one. She must have known that +my advanced age would make it impossible for me to accept, but she knew +also that I should feel it if I were left out, for for a number of +years there was no entertainment of that sort at Kemsale to which I and +my dear sisters, who are now all dead, were not invited." + +Lady Susan had been looking round the room. "What lovely old prints +you have!" she said. + +"They are old-fashioned things," replied Aunt Laura, "but I like them. +They do not actually belong to me. I brought them from the +dower-house, where I and my sisters lived for a number of years. But +wait--if you will come into the dining-room, where there is a fire and +you need not be afraid of catching cold, I will show you something that +does belong to me, and very pleased I am to have it." + +"Oh, I think we'd better stay here, Aunt Laura," said Humphrey. + +But Aunt Laura had already risen. "No, Humphrey," she said. "I must +show Lady Susan the present you gave me, which has afforded me the +greatest pleasure." + +So they followed her into the little square, panelled dining-room, +where she led them to an old engraving of "Kencote Park, Meadshire, the +Seat of John Clinton, Esq.," which showed, besides the many-windowed, +rectangular house, a large sheet of water with a Grecian temple on its +banks, and certain gentlemen in tall hats and ladies with parasols +feeding swans and apparently refusing the invitation of one of their +number, who was seated in a boat, to go for a nice row. + +"That is the house," explained Aunt Laura, "as it was when my +grandfather altered it, and made the lake, which is now all grown round +with rhododendrons and other trees, so that you cannot see it, as it is +represented there. But I think it is a fine picture." + +She put her little grey head crowned by its cap of lace and ribbons on +one side, bird-like, as if she were trying to judge how the house might +strike a stranger. "It was not in that house your ancestor lived," she +told Lady Susan. "That was burnt down, more's the pity, for I believe +it was still larger and finer than the present one. I should like to +possess a picture of it, but that is impossible because none exists. +At any rate, it was very kind of Humphrey to find this one for me and +have it well framed, as you see, and give it to me for a Christmas +present. It is such little attentions as that that people value, my +dear, when they come to my age." + +As they walked away along the village street Lady Susan said to +Humphrey, "I do think it was nice of you to give the old lady that +picture. It seems to have pleased her very much." + +"Oh, it was nothing," said Humphrey. "And she's worth pleasing." + +"Yes, I think she's very nice," Lady Susan agreed. + +"I'm glad you like her," said Humphrey, "and I think she's disposed to +like you. I say, I wish you'd go and look her up with the twins some +time to-morrow--without me, I mean. They go to see her every day, and +she'd take it as a compliment if you went again of your own accord." + +"Oh, certainly I will," said Lady Susan. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SUNDAY AND MONDAY + +On Monday some of the party assembled at Kencote hunted, but the +Squire, who had given up hunting for the season for reasons we know of, +went out with Sir Herbert Birkett and George Senhouse to walk up +partridges, and shoot whatever else came to their guns in an easy, +pottering way. Although he would not have admitted it, he was getting +quite reconciled to the loss of his favourite sport. His wide lands +afforded him plenty of game, and he enjoyed these small days with a few +guns, walking for miles through roots and over grass, and watching his +dogs work, descendants of the famous breed of pointers which had been +the pride of his sporting old grandfather. He thought they had not +been given half enough to do of late years, and now that his mind was +turned in another direction he had begun to feel keenly interested and +to follow it up with vigour. "Driven birds are all very well," he said +to his brother-in-law as they set out. "They're more difficult to hit +and you get more shooting. But you don't get so much sport. Any +cockney who's got the trick of it can bring 'em down." + +"Well, I can't, and I'm a cockney," said Sir Herbert. "Still, I agree +with you. This is the sort of day for pleasure." + +So they spent the whole of the mild winter day in the open, lunched +simply on the warm side of a hedge, and came back at dusk, having +thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The Squire had been at his best, the +country gentleman, busying himself in the open air with the pursuits +his forefathers had found their pleasure in for generations, allied to +his lands, simple in his enjoyment of what they provided for him, +companionable, master of field-craft, perfect as a host. "I haven't +had such a day for a long time," he said as they stood before the hall +door being relieved of their paraphernalia. "I've forgotten all my +troubles." + +Sir Herbert was touched. He found the man tiresome in so many aspects +of life, stupid and overbearing. But he had also something of the +appealing simplicity of a child. He was in trouble, and he had been +able to forget it all while he had amused himself. + +"It's the best day I've had for a long time too," he said. "You've +given me a great deal of pleasure, Edward." + +But once in the house, the Squire's worries rolled back on him--not the +big trouble, which he had no time to brood over just now, although it +was always present in the background of his mind, but the little +annoyances incident to his entertaining a lot of people whose ways were +not his ways, and who interfered with the settled course of his life. + +Lady Aldeburgh had given him great annoyance, and as for Bobby Trench, +it was as much as he could do to be civil to him. On the other hand, +he was more pleased with his son Humphrey than he had been for a long +time, and he had also come to feel that his son Walter was a man to be +relied on, in spite of his obstinate choice of a profession unsuitable +for a son of his, and his management of his life since he had taken up +that profession. If it had not been for this new-found satisfaction in +his younger sons, perhaps he would not have been able to prevent the +thoughts of his eldest son spoiling his day, and he would certainly +have been far more actively annoyed with Lady Aldeburgh and Bobby +Trench. + +For neither of those gay butterflies of fashion had been able or cared +to adjust themselves to the Sabbath calm of a house managed in the way +that Kencote was. Lady Aldeburgh, having spent the morning in her +room, written her letters and done her duty to privacy for the day, +came down to luncheon ready and willing to be amused. And there was no +amusement provided for her. After luncheon she had played a game of +running round the billiard-table and knocking balls into pockets with +the bare hand with Bobby Trench, and fortunately the Squire, at rest in +his room, with the _Spectator_ on his knee, had not known what they +were doing. But this mild amusement had soon palled, and the problem +was to find something for two active young things to do in its place. +"Have you _ever_ stayed in a house like this before, Bobby dear?" asked +Lady Aldeburgh. + +Bobby dear said that he never had, and the powers above being +favourable, never would again. + +"It's perfectly deadly," said Lady Aldeburgh. "What on earth are the +rest of them doing?" + +"Slumbering on their beds," replied Bobby Trench; "and in half an hour +or so they will all appear, rubbing their eyes, and we shall go for a +nice long walk." + +"Not me," said her ladyship, with a glance at the leaden sky outside +and the bare leafless trees shaking in a cold wind. "Do let's get +somewhere by a cosey fire and have a rubber of bridge." + +"Who's the four?" asked Bobby Trench. "Shall we wake up old Clinton, +and ask him? There are risks. It might be amusing to see somebody in +an apoplectic fit, and again it might not." + +"Don't be foolish," said Lady Aldeburgh, patting him on the arm. +"Humphrey would play, and I'll tell Susan she's wanted." + +"They are going out for a walk together. It's a case," said Bobby +Trench boldly. + +"Whatever put that into your head?" enquired her ladyship, with +wide-open eyes. "It's quite absurd." + +"Oh, I think Susan's a very nice girl," replied Bobby Trench. "Though +I admit it's absurd to take much notice of her while you're about." + +Lady Aldeburgh hit his sleeve again with her jewelled hand. "If you +talk like that I shall go away," she said. "When I said it was absurd +I meant that neither of them has a shilling." + +"Humphrey ought to have a good many shillings if he plays his hand well +with old Papa Beetroot just now," replied Bobby Trench. "There's a +deuce of an upset. I should hold for a rise if I were you." + +"You shouldn't talk so disrespectfully. You are disrespectful to me, +and to Mr. Clinton, who is a relation of mine--and the head of our +family, or so he says. And as for Humphrey, he's a nice boy--certainly +the pick of this particular bunch--but Susan wouldn't look at him." + +"Why not? He's civilised, if his people aren't." + +"She could do much better, and I shouldn't allow it. Of course they +are friends, and I don't mind that. You must remember that they are +cousins." + +"Is it fifty-sixth or fifty-seventh cousins?" asked Bobby Trench +innocently. "Well, you know best, of course, but you've got other +girls besides Susan to look after, and if you don't take care she'll +get left. No, my dear lady, it's no use trying to deceive me. You're +quite ready to let Susan marry Humphrey if Papa Mangel-Wurzel will put +up the stakes. Aren't you, now? Confess." + +"I shan't confess anything so ridiculous," said Lady Aldeburgh +petulantly. "What I want to do is to play bridge, and relieve myself +of this frightful boredom. I shouldn't have come here if I'd known +what it was like. _Can't_ we get a four?" + +"I'll see about it later on," said Bobby Trench. "Perhaps after tea. +Why not picquet in the meantime?" + +"It's a stupid game," said Lady Aldeburgh. "But if you make the stakes +high enough it would be better than nothing." + +"I'll make the stakes what you like," said Bobby Trench. "I'll pay you +if I lose, and if you lose you must pay me." + +Lady Aldeburgh having consented to this not unreasonable arrangement, +Bobby Trench rang the bell and asked the servant who answered it to +bring a card-table and some cards. Although somewhat surprised at the +order he presently fulfilled it, and the game proceeded until tea-time. + +All the members of the house party met over the tea-table, and +afterwards Lady Aldeburgh, having whispered to her daughter, went out +of the room followed by Bobby Trench. Lady Susan then whispered +something to Humphrey, who looked rather disturbed, and then also went +out of the room with her. Now the whispers had not been in the least +obtrusive, or of the nature to arouse comment, but the Squire happened +to have observed them both, and told Joan as he went back into his room +to find Humphrey and send him to him, not anticipating hearing of +anything wrong, but thinking that he might as well know what was going +on as not. + +Joan was delighted with the errand. She also had observed the +whispers, and was at least as eager as her father to find out what was +on foot. She went to several rooms before she opened the door of the +billiard-room, which was little used, and never on a Sunday. There she +found Lady Aldeburgh and Bobby Trench seated at a card-table, and +Humphrey standing by them with Susan Clinton at his side. "Humphrey, +father wants to speak to you for a minute," she said, and then ran away +to find Nancy and tell her of the terrible thing that was happening. + +"Well, if you don't mind, then," said Humphrey, preparing to obey the +summons, and Lady Aldeburgh said, "Oh no, not in the least. I didn't +know there would be any objection." + +Joan, passing through the hall, was again stopped by the Squire, who +was standing at the door of his room. "I told you to fetch Humphrey," +he said irritably. "Why have you been so long? I want to speak to +him." + +"I couldn't find him, father," said Joan. + +"Where was he?" asked the Squire. + +"He's just coming," replied Joan. + +"I asked you _where_ he was," persisted the Squire, and when she said +he had been in the billiard-room, asked her what he was doing there. + +"Talking to Lady Aldeburgh," said Joan; and the Squire asked her what +_she_ was doing. + +Then it came out. "Playing at cards with Mr. Trench," said Joan, who +disliked Lady Aldeburgh and Bobby Trench equally, and didn't see why +she shouldn't answer a plain question in plain terms. + +Then the Squire went into his room, shutting the door decisively, and +Humphrey went in after him, Joan having escaped for the second time. + +Inside the Squire's room there was an outbreak. "I will not have it in +this house. I simply _will not_ have it," was the burden of his +indignant cry. + +"Well, look here, father," said Humphrey quietly. "I didn't know what +was happening, and directly I did I stopped them. They gave it up at +once when I said you wouldn't like it. They couldn't tell, you know. +Everybody does it now." + +The Squire spluttered his wrath. "I call it disgraceful," he said. "I +don't know what the world's coming to. Cards on Sunday in a +respectable God-fearing house! And you defend it!" + +"No, I don't," said Humphrey. "I told you that I had stopped them." + +The Squire looked at him. "Did they want you to play?" he asked. "You +and a girl like Lady Susan! You don't mean to tell me her mother +wanted her to play? Is the girl accustomed to that sort of thing, I +should like to know?" + +Humphrey did not want to give Lady Aldeburgh away, but rather her than +Susan, and rather Bobby Trench than either of them. + +"Susan doesn't care about it," he said. "Lady Aldeburgh--well, you can +see what she is, can't you?--nothing like as sensible as her daughter. +She'll do what anybody wants her to." + +"Oh, then it's Master Trench I'm to thank for making my house a +gambling saloon on a Sunday!" exclaimed the Squire. "If he wasn't my +guest, I would say something to that young cub that would surprise him. +Anyhow, he'll never come into this house again, and I must say, seeing +what he is, that I wonder at your asking him at all." + +"I'm sorry I did," said Humphrey. "But I hope you won't say anything +to him about this. I'll take charge of them and see that they behave +themselves." + +"Then you'll have your work cut out for you," said the Squire grumpily. +"You'd better set about doing it at once. I wish to goodness I'd never +consented to people like that coming into the house. I may be +old-fashioned--I dare say I am--but I don't understand their ways, and +I don't want to." + +That had been the end of it as far as he was concerned. + +If he could have heard what passed between Lady Aldeburgh and Bobby +Trench when deprived of their legitimate amusement--but that thought is +too painful. What had happened further on that Sunday evening was that +feeling vaguely the need of some sort of comfort in the anxieties that +beset him he had suddenly taken it into his head to go to church to the +evening service, a thing he hardly ever did, and striding with firm and +audible steps into the chancel pew during the saying of the Psalms, he +had found, as well as most of the ladies from the house and George +Senhouse, assembled there, Humphrey and Susan Clinton sitting together, +and had come to the conclusion, during the sermon, that it was +creditable on Humphrey's part to have stopped the card-playing on his +behalf, instead of joining in it, as might have been expected of him, +and that he seemed to be turning over a new leaf, and was probably +exercising a good influence over the harmless daughter of a foolish +mother. + +So he was pleased with Humphrey, but displeased with Lady Aldeburgh, +who had shown herself perverse at the dinner-table and in the +drawing-room afterwards, had refused to talk more than was necessary, +and had gone up to her room on the stroke of ten; and furious with +Bobby Trench, who had made no effort to disguise his yawns throughout +the evening, and fallen openly asleep in the library after the ladies +had retired. + +As for Walter, he had talked to him very sensibly later still in the +evening about Dick. "Don't do anything," he had said, "till I have +seen him again. I don't know what can be done, or if anything can be +done. But it's quite certain that if you threaten him you will drive +him straight into doing what you don't want him to do." So he had +consented to Walter acting as his ambassador, and felt that he could +rely on him in that capacity, and even take some comfort in the hope +that he might do something to lighten the state of gloom and depression +in which most of his waking hours were now passed. + +It was with a feeling of relief that he saw the whole party, with the +exception of Sir Herbert Birkett, set out later in the evening on their +ten-mile drive to Kemsale. It had been his intention to go with them, +but the thought that Virginia, with whom he had seen Lord Meadshire +colloguing, would almost certainly have received an invitation, and +would no doubt eagerly have accepted it, deterred him. When his wife's +carriage, containing herself, Lady Birkett, and Lady Aldeburgh, who +would far rather have been with the younger members of the party, had +driven off, and the omnibus, with the rest of them, had followed it, he +breathed a sigh of relief. "To-morrow we shall be able to settle down +again, thank God!" he said to himself as the door was shut behind him. + +Kemsale Hall, towards which carriages from every country house in South +Meadshire within driving distance, and motor-cars from far beyond, were +converging, was a very fine place, and the ball which Lord Meadshire +gave that evening was a very fine ball. Amongst the numerous guests, +whose names were all chronicled in the _Bathgate Herald and South +Meadshire Advertiser_, were Lady George Dubec and Miss Dexter. + +Virginia had gone home from the Hunt Ball vowing that nothing would +induce her to accept the invitation which Lady Kemsale had given her so +patronisingly when it should be confirmed by the promised card, and +Miss Dexter had backed her up in her own dry way, while professing to +combat her resolution. + +"I don't know what you can be thinking of, Virginia," she said. +"Refuse an invitation to a house like Kemsale--the house of a Marquis, +a Lord-Lieutenant! Why, lots of women would commit hari-kari +to-morrow--or at least the day after the ball--if they could get an +invitation." + +"Well, I'm not one of them," said Virginia. "To think that I would go +anywhere on sufferance! Lord Meadshire's an old darling, but as for +his daughter-in-law, I should very much like to tell her what I think +of her." + +The opportunity of doing so occurred no later than the following +afternoon, when Lady Kemsale came to Blaythorn Rectory to call, but +Virginia did not take it. + +Lady Kemsale's manners were naturally stiff, but she did her best to +soften them when she was shown into Virginia's drawing-room. "I +thought I would come over before Monday," she said, with a smile, "so +as to put everything on the most approved basis of etiquette. We don't +often get new people in this part of the world, and when we do we must +make haste to show that we appreciate them." + +This was handsome enough, and it rather took Virginia's breath away. +When Lady Kemsale had been announced she had jumped to the conclusion +that Lord Meadshire had sent her, which was true; but what was also +true was that she had been quite pleased to come, and to have the +opportunity of making amends for her frigidity at the Hunt Ball, which +had been caused by the Squire's tale and thawed again by her own +observations. When she drove away half an hour later Virginia said +with a rare lapse into the American tongue, "Why, she's a perfectly +lovely woman, after all, Toby. Now you can't say that I was wrong to +say I'd go, after the way she behaved." + +"Just a little soft-sawder, and you fall at her feet," said Miss +Dexter. But she was pleased, all the same, that Virginia should be +going to Kemsale, and that one more of Dick's people should have +acknowledged her charm and her worth. She was pleased also to be going +herself, for she had a little scheme of her own, which she had not +imparted to her friend. + +She had, in fact, made up her mind to speak to Mrs. Clinton, if she +could find an excuse to do so, unobserved by the Squire. She had +watched her in the Bathgate Assembly Room, and she had seen her in her +turn watching Virginia with eyes whose meaning, whatever it was, was +not one of hostility. "Now there's a woman with sense," she had said +to herself. "_She_ wouldn't be tiresome. I wonder how much she is +under the influence of her old bear of a husband?" + +This was what she was going to find out, if she could, and she waited +her opportunity, refusing invitations to dance, and wandering about the +great string of rooms at Kemsale, stalking her prey, with a +whole-hearted indifference as to what might be thought of a single lady +so apparently friendless and partnerless. + +It was Lord Meadshire himself, who, coming across her passing through +one of the smaller drawing-rooms, did what she wanted. "What! not +dancing?" he asked in his friendly way; and with a searching glance at +his kind old face she said, "I have something else to do. I want to +speak to Mrs. Clinton, but I don't know her." + +He looked at her in return with a momentary seriousness. "Want to gain +a convert, eh?" he asked. He liked her plain sensible face, and the +way she stood, square to him and to the world. "Tell me now, is this a +serious business?" + +She did not answer him directly. "She's one of the best women in the +world," she said. "Perhaps I'm the only person who really knows what +she's been through and how she has taken it. She has come out of her +troubles pure gold. And anybody can see for themselves that she is +beautiful and has a charm all her own." + +"Oh yes, anybody can see that," said Lord Meadshire. "She's a sweet +creature. And Dick Clinton wants to marry her. _He's_ serious, eh?" + +"I think he has proved it," said Miss Dexter. + +Lord Meadshire considered this. He had heard that Dick had retired +from the army, but not about his having taken an estate agency. "I +suppose he is," he said. + +"They ought to know her," said Miss Dexter. "People ought not to hug +prejudices that have no reason." + +Lord Meadshire looked at her with his mischievous smile. "A matter of +abstract right and wrong--what?" he said. "Well, come along, and I'll +introduce you. But you must tell me your name, which I'm afraid I have +forgotten, although I know quite well who you are, you know." + +"Yes. I'm Lady George Dubec's companion, and my name is Dexter," she +said. + +Lord Meadshire loved a little conspiracy. His eyes twinkled at her as +he said, "This dance is coming to an end, and people will be here in a +minute. You would like to talk to her by yourselves. Go into the +conservatory there, and leave it all to me." + +So Miss Dexter went and deposited herself on one of two chairs under a +palm. Couples in search of privacy wondered, sometimes audibly, why on +earth the woman couldn't find some other place to sit and mope in, but +she sat on undisturbed. A man whom she had danced with before, also +unattached, mooned in with his hands in his pockets, and showed a +disposition to take the vacant chair. "Please go away," she said. "I +have got toothache, and anybody who talks to me will have his head +snapped off," and he, being of a diffident nature, went. Presently the +lilting sweep of strings and the sweet penetrating sound of horns came +sweeping in from the distant orchestra, and she was left alone once +more, except for one couple, who still sat on in a distant corner. But +by and by she heard voices approaching. These were from Lord Meadshire +and Mrs. Clinton, whom he had brought in to look at the flowers, which +were banked up in gay, scented masses underneath the spreading branches +of the great palms. They came to where she was sitting, and Lord +Meadshire said again, "What! not dancing?" She rose and stood before +them. "I'm having a little rest," she said, with a smile; and then he +made the introduction. "Do you know Miss Dexter, Nina?" he asked. +"She has come to live here for a time, Mrs. Clinton." + +Mrs. Clinton acknowledged the introduction not without stiffness. She +was taken by surprise, as was intended, but she was a woman whom it was +not wise to take by surprise, if you wanted her to show you what was in +her mind. + +Lord Meadshire had intended to leave her with Miss Dexter, slipping +away on some excuse with a promise to return, but when he had borne the +brunt of a light conversation for a little time he perceived that he +could not do so. He paused in some bewilderment, and Miss Dexter said, +"May I have a few words with you, Mrs. Clinton?" + +"Ah yes," he said, visibly relieved. "I'll leave you both here +together, and come back." + +But Mrs. Clinton said at once, "If it is about Lady George Dubec, I +would rather not hear anything. I think I will go back to the +ballroom, Cousin Humphrey." Then she turned resolutely, with a bow to +Miss Dexter, who had plumped herself into her seat again and did not +return it, and Lord Meadshire had nothing to do but to go away with +her. "But you mustn't sit here all the evening," he said kindly, over +his shoulder, to Miss Dexter. "I shall come back and fetch you." + +But when he returned five minutes later she was not there, and he saw +her dancing vigorously, and apparently anxious to avoid him. + +But she could not dance the whole evening, owing to a lack of partners, +and he had an opportunity of speaking to her later. "I'm afraid our +little scheme miscarried," he said, with some concern. + +She showed him a pink, angry face. "I wish to goodness I had left it +alone," she said. "I don't like being snubbed." + +"She won't go behind her husband," he said rather lamely. + +"I thought, to look at her, she had a good deal more sense than he," +said Miss Dexter uncompromisingly. "It seems I was mistaken." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MRS. CLINTON CHOOSES A GOVERNESS + +Mrs. Clinton sat in Lady Birkett's drawing-room prepared to interview, +one by one, twenty or more of the ladies who had answered her +advertisement for a governess for the twins. She expected to devote +two consecutive mornings to her task, and was prepared to listen, to +weigh, and to judge with all her faculties alert. On the table by her +side was an orderly pile of letters, most of them running to two or +three sheets of notepaper. They were the residuum of some scores, and +she had read the contents of each several times over. + +Punctually on the stroke of ten entered Miss Winifred Player, +twenty-five, French, German, and Italian, elementary Hebrew, music, +drawing, thorough English and composition, botany, physiology, dancing +and calisthenics, needlework, swimming, elementary bookkeeping and +typewriting; daughter of a clergyman of the Church of England; bright, +persevering, and makes friends with pupils (see testimonials); +bicycles, good walker, tennis. It was astonishing that she should have +acquired so much learning during her short term of life, and also spent +eight years in imparting it. She proved to be a self-confident young +woman with a voluble tongue, and Mrs. Clinton had only to sit and +listen to her while she made it quite plain that she would not do at +all. But by way of gaining experience which might be useful in dealing +with further applicants, Mrs. Clinton asked her a few questions when a +lull in the storm of words allowed her an opportunity, going through +her list of "subjects" from the letter she held in her hand. + +Miss Player, it seemed, had not studied the languages she offered +abroad. She had been neither to France, Germany, Italy, nor Syria. +French she had learned at school, German and Italian she had taught +herself in spare moments. Hebrew--well, she had hardly supposed Hebrew +would be wanted, but she had put that in because she had learnt the +letters and helped her father by copying. She knew the Greek alphabet +too. Thorough English meant that she was fond of reading, and had once +reviewed a novel for a parish magazine. She had the article in her +little handbag, and offered it as corroborating evidence. Botany and +physiology she had "studied." But she seemed rather anxious to get +away from her "subjects." "I always get on with my pupils," she said, +"and I don't mind making myself useful in the house. In fact, I enjoy +doing so, and feeling that I am one of the family. How old are your +little girls, Mrs. Clinton?" + +"They are fifteen," replied Mrs. Clinton. "I am afraid your +accomplishments are not quite what I want." + +There came a sudden droop. Miss Player was "bright" no longer, but +plainly dejected. + +"You offer a very high salary," she said somewhat inconsequently. + +"Yes, you see I want a lady of high education." + +"I'm bright in the house," said the girl. + +Mrs. Clinton could not repress a smile. "I hope you will get a good +place where your qualities will be valued," she said, and Miss Player +left her. + +The interview had only lasted five minutes, and Mrs. Clinton had +allowed fifteen for each. She went to find her sister-in-law. "I +think you had better come and support me," she said, "and I think you +will be amused." So when Miss Janet Phipp was shown in she found +herself confronted by two ladies instead of one, and both of them asked +her questions. + +Miss Phipp was thirty, very plain--there was no denying that--but also +on her own showing very competent. She had been educated at a High +School, and had taken the degree of Bachelor of Arts at the London +University. She had taught in a High School ever since, but the work +was rather too hard for her. Her doctor had advised her to go into the +country and avoid the strain of night as well as day work. "I am not +an invalid," she said quietly, "and my health would give you no +trouble." + +There was no doubt about her capacity, but she was quite uninspiring. +Mrs. Clinton hesitated. "Have you been used to living in the country?" +she asked. + +"Oh no," said Miss Phipp. "I told you--I have been at the High School +for eight years. In my holidays I went abroad mostly, or to my home in +Manchester, as long as my parents were alive." + +"I am afraid you would find it very dull," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"I think not," she said. "But it wouldn't much matter if I did, would +it, as long as I did my work well? I can teach, and I like teaching." + +"My daughters are active young persons," said Mrs. Clinton. "They are +out of doors a great deal. Do you play golf, or lawn tennis, or +anything of that sort?" + +Miss Phipp's face hardened a little. "I don't care about games," she +said. "I have always put work first. I would undertake to make your +girls work, and if I were to look after them in their +play-time--wouldn't that be all that would be wanted?" + +"I think not," said Mrs. Clinton. "I want them to work, but I want +some one who would be a pleasant companion for them too, out of lesson +hours." + +"Did you find it easy to make friends with your pupils at the school?" +asked Lady Birkett. + +"A few of them," said Miss Phipp. "The ones who wanted to get on. I +used to have them in my rooms to help them. With the others I found it +best to keep to work alone. I got more out of them that way. After +school hours they went their own way and I went mine." + +"But that is just what you couldn't do in a private family," urged Mrs. +Clinton. "You wouldn't have to be always with the children, but you +would be much more with them than with girls you taught in a school." + +"Yes. I know that," said Miss Phipp. "Only I don't want to give you a +wrong impression of myself. I would do my best to make friends with +your girls, only I fancy it would rest with them more than with me. +Some teachers find it quite easy to have girls hanging on to them and +adoring them, and my experience is that work suffers on account of it. +I wouldn't go anywhere where work wasn't the chief thing." + +When she had gone out Mrs. Clinton said, "It is really very puzzling. +I'm not at all sure that she wouldn't do, although she is far from +being the sort of governess I had pictured." + +"We shall do better," said Lady Birkett. "There are plenty more to see +yet." + +The next to arrive was Miss Judith Gay, twenty-three, pretty and rather +shy, daughter of an admiral deceased, perfect French, good piano and +singing, otherwise not up to the mark scholastically. + +"If it were only a companion we wanted!" said Mrs. Clinton when she had +gone out. + +"The twins would love her," said Lady Birkett, "but they would twist +her round their little fingers." + +Miss Ella Charman was the next arrival. She was thirty-four, well +dressed, and talked after the manner of a lady of fashion. It was +apparently her object to set both Mrs. Clinton and Lady Birkett +thoroughly at their ease, and establish intimate relations before +coming to business. "I have never been in that part of the world," she +said when she had enquired where Mrs. Clinton lived, "but I know the +Palmers very well. I think they live in Meadshire, don't they?" + +"Not in our part of Meadshire," replied Mrs. Clinton. "At least I do +not know the name." + +"Oh, you would know them, I should think, if they lived near you," said +Miss Charman. "She was a daughter of Sir James Farley. Lady Farley +was a sister of Mrs. Bingham, with whom I lived. Mr. Bingham, you +know, is a brother of Lord Howley's. Little Edward, whom I taught +until he went to school, will be Lord Howley some day. I was sorry to +leave the Binghams, but Edward was the only child, and had to be sent +to school, of course. Do you know Lord Dorman, Mrs. Clinton?" + +"No," said that lady, taking up a letter, "you have not mentioned----" + +"I thought you might," interrupted Miss Charman. "He is only a new +creation, of course. He was Sir John Thompson, the engineer or +contractor or something; Mrs. Cottering told me that he had paid a +hundred thousand pounds into the funds of the Liberal Party, and got +his peerage in that way. The Dormans were very anxious that I should +go to them and take sole charge of their adopted niece. They have no +children living of their own. Mrs. Dappering told me that it was a +great sorrow to them. Their only son was killed in the war. Do you +know Lady Edith Chippering?" + +"No," said Mrs. Clinton. "Are you still thinking of going to----" + +"She was a daughter of the Earl of Havering. I thought you might. She +was staying with the Binghams just before I left them. She did say +something about my going to her. Of course the Dormans would be +more---- By the way, do you know the Lodderings? Don't they live in +Meadshire?" + +Mrs. Clinton did not answer this question. "I have a good many people +to see, Miss Charman," she said. "I think we had better talk +about--about our business, hadn't we?" + +"Oh, certainly," said Miss Charman. "Should I have my meals with the +family or not? That is rather a point with me. At the Cotterings' I +had everything sent up and lived entirely in the schoolroom, which I +don't think a good arrangement. One gets dull and mopy, you know. At +the Binghams' I was one of the family, and used to help Mr. Bingham +with his farm accounts after dinner; in fact, he used to call me his +secretary. He _would_ look after everything on his property himself. +Would there be anything of that sort I could help Mr. Clinton in, do +you think? I don't know whether he has landed property or not, but I +should be delighted to do anything I could to help him." + +"You were asking about meals," said Mrs. Clinton. "You would have +breakfast and luncheon with us, and you would dine upstairs. Now will +you kindly tell me what subjects you can teach?" + +"Oh, the usual subjects," said Miss Charman. "I am a Bachelor of Arts +of London University, you know, honours in French and mathematics. And +there are the training certificates. You have all that, haven't you? +I got Hilda Cottering into Girton. Her father didn't want her to go. +With all that money coming he thought it was waste of time. But she +was a clever girl, and we used to do a great deal of work, and have a +great deal of fun besides. She married young Spencer-Morton, you know, +the nephew of Lord Pickering. Do you know the Pickerings, by any +chance?" + +And so it went on, and would have gone on interminably had not Mrs. +Clinton at last risen and held out her hand as token of dismissal. +Miss Charman retired affably, saying that she supposed she should hear +in a day or two. She knew Mrs. Clinton must get through her list +first, but she should be glad to come to her, and she would no doubt +let her know the date later on. + +When she had left them the two ladies looked at one another and +laughed. "How delighted Edward would be with that flow of +conversation!" said Lady Birkett. "It would be worth while engaging +her if only to see his face when she asked him if he knew the +Potterings." + +"Miss Phipp is the only possible one so far," said Mrs. Clinton. + +Miss Margaret Cunningham was the next. Twenty-five, with an excellent +record, nice-mannered and good-looking, but the unfortunate possessor +of a cockney accent of remarkably pungency. She had been a "dyly" +governess only, in "Straoud" Green, where she lived, but her father had +married again and she was not happy at home. Her father was Scotch. +"I don't think I've got his accent, though," she said, with a smile. +If she had she might have beaten Miss Phipp out of the field. Her own +made her impossible. + +Miss Clara Weyerhauser was young, but spectacled, short-haired and +mannishly clothed. "Edward would roar the house down if I took her to +Kencote," said Mrs. Clinton, when the tale of her numerous attainments +had been extracted from her and she had stamped out of the room. + +"It seemed odd that she should keep her hat on in the house," said Lady +Birkett. + +Miss Mary Mansell was too nervous, Miss Gladys Whiting too +delicate-looking to make it likely that they could cope successfully +with the twins. Then came Miss Jessie Barton. She was forty-two, and +looked older, a lady by birth and in speech and manner, but poorly +dressed, thin and worn. She had been teaching for over twenty years in +good families, and had the best of references to show from each, but +admitted, with a flush on her pale cheeks, that she had left her last +place, over a year before, because the girls she had taught wanted a +finishing governess. + +"But that is just what I want for my girls," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"Ah, but they are younger," she said eagerly. "Really, I am sure I +could get them on well, Mrs. Clinton. And I am as strong and active as +ever I was, and much more experienced. I am just coming to the time +when it will be difficult to get work, and if I don't get work I must +starve. I have no home to go to now, and very few friends." + +"I know those are the hardships of your calling," said Mrs. Clinton +gently. "But I can't let them weigh with me, can I? I must do the +best I can for my children." + +"Well, I think a woman of my age can do better for them than a younger +one with less experience," said the poor lady. "I _do_ hope you won't +let my age stand in the way, Mrs. Clinton. I haven't taken a day off, +as some women do. I am no older than I say." + +"If I hadn't been ready to take a woman of your age, other things being +equal, I shouldn't have asked you to come and see me," said Mrs. +Clinton. "But I cannot decide anything until I have seen every one I +have written to." + +"Ah well!" she said, with a sigh. "I know you won't choose me, or you +would have told me more about the children, and what you wanted. I +suppose I must go on with the weary round until I drop." + +"It is very depressing, poor thing!" said Mrs. Clinton when she had +gone. "But I can't possibly engage a governess out of motives of pity." + +"She would be all right for younger children," said Lady Birkett. "It +is hard that she should begin to find it difficult to get work at that +age." + +Miss Gertrude Wilson, twenty-nine, was brisk and business-like. She +would have made an excellent commercial traveller, taking it cheerfully +for granted when she entered a shop that she was going to get an order, +and not leaving it until she had got one. It was she who asked the +questions, not in the manner of Miss Player, obsessed by her own +personality and experiences, but rather like a doctor, anxious +thoroughly to diagnose a case so that he might do the best he could for +his patient. + +"Now I should like to know, first of all," she said, "what the +characters of your girls are like, Mrs. Clinton. Then one can form +some idea as to how to treat them." + +"They are physically active," said Mrs. Clinton; "mentally too, +especially Nancy, who has developed greatly within the last year. She +is a clever child, and is beginning to take a great interest in books, +and I think one might say in everything she finds inside them." + +"Ah, a student!" said Miss Wilson. "One ought not to let her overdo +that at her age, although one must take pains to encourage her in +anything she wants to take up, and try and concentrate her upon it. I +don't believe much in desultory reading. I should feel inclined to +curb that. But that is not quite what I want to know. I can deal with +all that when I see the girls. It is their dispositions I want to get +at. Are they bright as a general rule, or inclined to be subdued?" + +"Not at all inclined to be subdued," said Lady Birkett, with a laugh. + +"Not spoilt, I hope?" asked Miss Wilson. "If they are, please say so. +I can deal with them all right." + +"I don't think they are spoilt," said Mrs. Clinton. "They are both +affectionate, and easily managed by any one they love. They are apt to +be mischievous, perhaps, although they are growing out of that now. +They are rather overfond of making fun of people, but I think no one +would call them ill-natured." + +"Well, that is a very satisfactory report on the whole," said Miss +Wilson. "I expect I shall get fond of them. I generally do get fond +of my pupils, and they of me. May I ask what other members of your +family there are, Mrs. Clinton--brothers or sisters, older or younger?" + +"Joan and Nancy are the only ones regularly at home," replied Mrs. +Clinton. + +"Oh! No brothers at school coming home for the holidays?" + +"No," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"It is apt to make things difficult sometimes. Girls get out of hand. +Are there older brothers, may I ask?" + +"Yes, but you would see little of them, Miss Wilson. You need not take +them into account." + +By the look of Miss Wilson's face, it might have been gathered that she +would have preferred to take them into account, at any rate to the +extent of hearing a little more about them. But her momentary +dejection disappeared. She had to keep her control of the situation. +"And now as to hours," she said. "My plan would be to work the _whole_ +of the morning, with perhaps a quarter of an hour off for a glass of +milk and a rock cake or something of that sort--say from nine o'clock +to lunch time; exercise and games in the afternoon, till four. Then +three hours' work, with tea in between, and I should expect the girls +to do an hour or so's preparation later in the evening. They do not +dine with you, of course." + +"They come down to dessert," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"That would be about eight o'clock, I suppose. We can just fit in the +other hour before they go to bed. I should like them to go to bed not +later than half-past nine, and----" + +"I like them to go to bed at nine," Mrs. Clinton managed to break in. +"And they would not do any work after they have come downstairs; there +would not be time." + +"Oh, well, we can settle all that later," Miss Wilson handsomely +conceded. "I shall do my very best to get them on, Mrs. Clinton. +Wednesdays and Saturdays I suppose we shall have half-holidays, or do +you prefer a whole holiday on Saturday? Perhaps we had better settle +that later too; it is all one to me. I shall do my best to fit in with +the ways of the house. Shall you wish me to take my meals downstairs?" + +"Breakfast and luncheon, yes," said Mrs. Clinton. "You would dine in +the schoolroom." + +Miss Wilson's face again fell. But she said, "That will suit me very +well. I shall have time for my own reading when the children have gone +to bed. When shall you wish me to come?" + +"If I engage you, about the tenth. Now I should like to ask you a few +questions, if you are ready to answer them." + +The cross-examination Miss Wilson underwent as to her scholastic +attainments and previous experience, at the hands of both ladies, was +somewhat searching, and she came through it admirably. She was, in +fact, the ideal governess, as far as could be seen. And yet, neither +of them liked her, and they would have been pleased rather than +regretful to find some flaw which would give them an excuse to reject +her. "Well," said Mrs. Clinton at last, "I have others to see, but I +will take up your references and write to you in a few days. You have +given me all the addresses, I suppose?" She took up Miss Wilson's +letter, which was shorter than the rest, confining itself to one sheet +of note-paper. + +"Yes, you will find them there," said Miss Wilson, rising a little +hurriedly. "Then I shall hope to hear from you, and I will say +good-morning, Mrs. Clinton." + +Mrs. Clinton ignored her outstretched hand. "I will just pencil the +dates at which you were with these three families," she said. "Mrs. +Waterhouse was the first." + +"Oh, I am very bad at dates," said Miss Wilson. "But they are all in +order. You will have no difficulty." + +Mrs. Clinton looked at her in mild surprise. "Surely you remember the +number of years you were with each family," she said. + +"Oh, I dare say I can remember that," she said, with a rather nervous +laugh. "I was with Mrs. Waterhouse about three years, Mrs. Simkinson +one and a half, I think it was." + +"That is all I wanted to know," said Mrs. Clinton, but Lady Birkett +asked, "Are those three all the posts you have filled?" + +Miss Wilson, who was still standing, drew herself up stiffly. "I was +with some other people for about a year," she said. "But they were +intensely disagreeable people, and I should be very sorry to have to +rely on a testimonial from them. They behaved atrociously to me." + +"In what way?" asked Mrs. Clinton. + +"I prefer not to say," said Miss Wilson firmly. "I have no wish to +talk about those people at all. I only wish to forget them. If you +will take up the references I have given you I think you will know +everything about me that you have a right to ask, and you will find it +thoroughly satisfactory; and anything else I shall be pleased to tell +you." + +"I think, then, I must ask why you left these people. Were they the +last you were with?" + +"Yes," said Miss Wilson, "they were; and the whole subject is so +painful to me that I must refuse to go into it." + +"You will not give me the name, so that I can at least hear their side +of the story?" + +"Certainly not, Mrs. Clinton," replied Miss Wilson indignantly. "If +those are the only conditions on which I may accept your offer, then I +must refuse it altogether." + +"I haven't made you an offer yet," said Mrs. Clinton, "and of course, +under the circumstances, I cannot do so. So I will wish you +good-morning." + +Miss Wilson seemed about to say something more, but changed her mind +and left the room with her head in the air. + +The two ladies looked at one another. "What on earth can it have +been?" asked Mrs. Clinton. + +"Carrying on," replied Lady Birkett, with a laugh. "I can see it now. +She's the sort that carries on. The details we must leave to the +imagination, but we're well rid of her." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MRS. CLINTON IN JERMYN STREET + +It was about seven o'clock in the evening. Mrs. Clinton stood for a +moment on the pavement, on which the light of a street lamp shone and +was reflected from the wet stone, and paid her cabman. Then she turned +to the tall dull house and rang the bell. In this house, in one of the +narrow streets just off St. James's, Dick had had rooms for many years, +but his mother had not been able to correct the cabman when he had +first stopped at a wrong number. She had time to reflect on this fact +before the door was opened to her. Captain Clinton was not in, said +the man, but he generally came in to dress not later than half-past +seven; and she said she would go to his room and wait. + +The hall was narrow and dimly lighted. On a table under a tiny gas-jet +were a dozen or so of bedroom candlesticks, and hanging on the wall a +rack for letters and telegrams. The stairs were darkly druggeted. The +man opened a door on the first floor, turned on the light and retired, +and she found herself in a furnished apartment such as is occupied by +men of fashion in London. There was nothing to mark it off from +superior furnished apartments anywhere. The furniture was of the solid +Victorian type, the paper on the walls ugly, the carpet of a +nondescript colour. There was a gilt clock on the mantelpiece and two +coloured glass vases. The pictures had no value or beauty. On a +marble-topped sideboard were a collection of gloves, caps, and hats, +the silk ones beautifully ironed and brushed, and on the sofa were two +or three carefully folded overcoats. These were all that spoke of +Dick's occupancy of the rooms, on which otherwise he had made no sort +of personal impress in a tenancy ranging over twelve years. There were +no books, and not even a photograph belonging to him. Yet he paid the +rent of a good house for this room and a bedroom behind the grained and +varnished folding-doors, and was quite content with them. There was no +bathroom in the house, and he had to go out for all his meals except +breakfast; but he was valeted as well as if he had been at home. + +Mrs. Clinton sat down in an easy-chair before the fire and looked +around her once, her gaze resting for a minute on the closed doors +between the two rooms. She might have wished to see what sort of +bedroom Dick occupied, but she did not do so. She sat still and waited +for half an hour, and then Dick came in. She heard him humming an air +as he ran upstairs, but when he entered the room and saw her, half +risen from her chair to receive him, he stopped short in utter +surprise. "Why, mother!" he exclaimed, and for a moment his face was +not welcoming. Then he came forward and kissed her. "Whatever wind +blows you here?" he asked lightly. + +"I am staying with Eleanor Birkett," she said. "I have come up to +engage a governess for the children." + +"Time to break them in, eh?" he said. "How are the young rascals? +Still raking in coins for their camera?" + +She allowed herself a faint smile. "They are very well," she said. + +"Well, shall we go and have a little dinner somewhere together, or are +you dining in Queen's Gate?" + +"I said I might not be back to dinner," she said. "I didn't know +whether you would be engaged or not." + +"No, I was going to dine at the club. That's capital. I'll just go +and shift, if you don't mind waiting, and in the meantime you consider +what Epicurean haunt you would like to go to." He went into his +bedroom, giving her no time to say anything further if she had wished +to, and left her to sit by the fire again and wait for him. + +He came out again in a quarter of an hour, during which time she had +heard splashings and movements, but no further humming of airs. +"Verrey's, I think," he said. "You'll want to go somewhere quiet, eh?" + +"Dick," she said, "I should like to have a little talk with you before +we go out." + +He was already putting on his scarf. "Let's dine first, mother," he +said. "It's just upon eight, and I'm hungry. We can come back here +afterwards, if you like." + +Perhaps it was better that he should dine first, especially if he was +hungry. "Very well," she said, and rose to go with him. + +Driving through the streets, sitting over their dinner for an hour, and +driving back again, nothing was said between them of what was certainly +occupying Mrs. Clinton's mind, and must have been in Dick's. It was +difficult for her to talk; they had so little in common besides the +externals of home life, and at every turn in the conversation something +came up that must not be said if there was to be no mention yet of the +only thing that mattered at Kencote. But Dick seemed determined that +there should be no mention of it, and by and by they got on to the +subject of the twins and their new governess, and then the conversation +was easier. She told him about the ladies she had interviewed, and he +laughed at her descriptions of them. "Capital, mother!" he said. "You +ought to write it all down." He was pleased with her. She was +entertaining him, where he had thought she would be a drag on his +well-meant efforts to entertain her. And because he was very well +disposed towards her, it was gratifying to be able to feel that they +were getting on happily together. His manner became warmer as the +dinner proceeded, reflecting his feelings, which also became warmer. +They had some quite sensible conversation about the twins and their +education. Dick thought that the governess who had taught in the High +School--Miss Phipp--was the right one. "They want discipline," he +said. "That's what's missing in girls' education, especially when they +are taught at home. It won't do those young women any harm to be made +to grind at it. I'm for the school-marm, mother." + +As they waited for a minute for a cab to be called up to take them back +to Jermyn Street, Dick said, looking at her appreciatively, "What a +pretty gown that is, mother! I've never seen it before." She flushed +with pleasure, but said nothing. He handed her into the cab, and took +his seat beside her. "We must have another little evening together +before---- When are you going back, by the by?" + +"To-morrow," she said. + +"What a pity! Can't you stay till the next day, and come and do a +play? I've got to-morrow night free." + +But she said she must go back, and he did not press her further. + +When they reached Dick's rooms and got out of the cab he told the man +to wait and then turned to the door with his latch-key in his hand. +"Please send him away," said Mrs. Clinton. "I came on purpose to have +a talk with you, Dick." + +"You needn't hurry away, mother," he said. "But you will want a cab by +and by to go home in." + +"I shan't feel comfortable while the minutes are ticking away," she +said. "You can get me another one presently." + +Dick laughed at her, but he paid the cabman, and they went up to his +room together. + +"Now, then, little mother," he said, as he took off his overcoat and +scarf, "let's have it out. I'll mix myself a little liquid +refreshment, and if you don't mind my smoking a cigar, I shall be in a +mood to give you my whole attention." + +Now that the time had come to speak she was nervous, and did not know +how to begin. Dick, apparently thoroughly at his ease, good-humoured +with her, but not prepared, it seemed, to take her very seriously, lit +another cigar, poured himself out whisky and undid the wire of a +soda-water bottle before she spoke, and as she was beginning he spoke +himself. "I'm going to be married next month," he said; "will you come +to my wedding?" As he spoke the cord of the soda-water bottle flew out +with a pop, and he said, "Steady now, steady!" + +There was a pause, filled only with the sound of the water gurgling +into the glass. Then Mrs. Clinton spoke. "Oh, Dick!" she said, "why +do you treat me like this?" + +He threw a glance at her, half furtive. He had never heard her speak +in that tone. She was looking at him with hurt eyes. "I am your +mother," she said. "Do you think I have no feeling for my children? +Have I been such a bad mother to you that it is right to put me aside +as if I were of no account when a crisis comes in your life?" + +He walked to the chair on the opposite side of the fire to hers, his +glass in his hand, and sat down. There was a frown on his face. Like +his father, he hated a scene, unless it was one of his own making, and +especially he hated a scene with a woman. But it was true that he had +treated his mother as if she were of no account. In the presence of +the pain which her face and her voice had shown, he felt a sense of +shame at the easy mastery he had displayed towards her during the +evening, putting her wishes and her feelings aside, thinking only that +it was rather tiresome of her to have intruded herself into his plans, +and that her intrusion must be repelled with as little disturbance as +possible. + +She spoke again before he could reply to her. "You are always very +charming to me, Dick--on the surface. You treat me with the greatest +possible politeness, always, as you have done this evening. I know +that many young men do not behave with such courtesy towards their +mother, especially those who do not live in the same world as they do. +But that charming behaviour is a very poor return for what a mother +does for her children when they are wholly dependent on her. You used +to come to me with all your troubles when you were a little boy, Dick. +Am I so changed that you must shut me out of your life altogether, now?" + +Conflicting emotions caused him intense discomfort. "No, mother, no," +he said. "But----" + +She took him up. "But you don't want me any longer," she said, "and +you haven't enough kindness in you to think that I may want you." + +Underneath her smooth-flowing speech there was bitterness, almost +cruelty; certainly cruelty, if deliberately to pierce self-satisfaction +is cruel. For if there were any qualities in Dick against which he +might have thought that no accusation could lie, they were his attitude +towards women and the essential kindness of his heart. But she had +shown him that external courtesy towards her had only hidden a deep +discourtesy, and his kindness was base metal, not kindness at all. + +But she had aroused, if not resentment, opposition. Her words had +stung. If she wanted anything from him, that was not the way to get +it. "Oh, come now, mother," he said, with some impatience. "I----" + +But she would not let him go on until she had said all that she had to +say. "If you don't care for me, Dick, if you have lost all the love +you had for me when you were a child, then I know it is of no use +saying these things. Words can't bring back love, nor reproaches. And +after all, it wasn't about myself that I came here to speak to you. +Your indifference has caused me pain, but I should not have taxed you +with it now; I should have kept silence as I have done for many years, +if it had not been that my love for you has been there ready for you if +you had ever wanted it, and I thought you might want it now. But I can +do nothing to help you if you won't let me a little way into your +heart. I must just stand aside and see the breach between you and your +father widen, when it might be healed, and you could restore him to +happiness as well as take your happiness yourself." + +Dick's face became harder as she mentioned his father, who had not been +mentioned between them during the evening. "What can you do with him?" +he asked, with a shade of scorn in his voice. "He is utterly +unreasonable. He gets an idea into his head, and nothing will get it +out." + +Her voice was softer as she replied. "Dick dear, you know that isn't +true." + +He stirred uneasily in his chair. "It is true in this case," he said. +"I suppose you mean that as a rule if you give him his head about +anything you can pull him up and make him go the other way if you treat +him carefully. I know you can, as a rule. This is an unfortunate +exception to the rule." + +"You have driven him into opposition by everything you have done," she +said. "If you had been a little patient----" + +"Oh, I was as patient as possible, at first," he interrupted her. "But +he went beyond everything. The only thing was to go away until he had +come to his senses. From what I have heard, through Walter, he is +worse than ever. He is going to cut me off with a shilling. Well, let +him. I can't imagine anything that will bother him more during the +rest of his life than to have the prospect of Kencote divided up after +his death. I can't imagine him thinking of such a thing. I'm not +thinking of myself and what I'm going to get when I say it's a wicked +thing to do. He's always looked upon the place as a sort of trust. It +_is_ a trust, and he is going to betray it for the sake of scoring off +me. He must know that a threat of that sort would be the last thing to +move me. It is spite, and spite that hurts him as much as it hurts me." + +"Oh, Dick! Dick!" she said. + +He gave another uneasy hitch to his body. Her gentle admonition showed +him as no argument could have shown him from what source his speech had +come. + +"Of course I'm sore," he said, answering her implied reproach. "Any +man would be sore in such a case. I believe you have seen Virginia. I +ask you plainly, mother, if you are on his side--the sort of mud he +throws at her--you know. Because if you are----" + +"No, Dick dear," she said. "I have seen her, and I am not--not on his +side, in that." + +Her words, and the tone in which they were spoken, softened his anger. +"You would welcome her as my wife?" he asked. + +"Oh yes, I would," she said. "And I will, Dick, when this trouble is +over. If she will love me I will love her. Yes, I have seen her, +twice." + +"Thank you very much, mother," he said quietly, after a short pause. + +"Dick," she began again, "you know your father. You know how unhappy +it must make him to be parted from you. You are bearing very hardly on +him." + +"And he on me, mother," said Dick. "What do you want me to do? Give +up Virginia? You haven't come here to ask me to do that?" + +"No, not that, Dick." + +"Or to wait for a year? That's Walter's scheme--at least, I believe +it's Herbert Birkett's. Very kind of him to take a hand in the +discussion. But I'm not going to wait a year. I'm not going to wait +any time. Why should I? If I make concessions of that sort I'm giving +away my case, I'm admitting that there's some sense in the objections +made--some reason in them. There's none. I won't submit Virginia to +the indignity. I'm sorry now I ever got her down to Meadshire. I did +that because I knew what--what his prejudices would be, and I thought +he should have a chance of getting over them." + +"Then you did think, at first, that there was something to be said for +his prejudices." + +"Er--yes--to the extent that if I had put it baldly that I was going to +marry a widow, an American, who had been for a time on the stage--years +ago--although I confess I didn't think that would be known--there might +be trouble. I thought then, and I think now, that if he had given her +a fair chance--if he had got to know her, he _couldn't_ possibly take +the line he has. There isn't a soul down there--I've heard all about +it--who isn't at her feet. It makes me furious--I hardly let myself +think about it--that he should behave as he does. No, mother, it has +gone too far. There is nothing I can do now, after all that has +happened, that wouldn't be an admission of weakness." + +She did not speak immediately. "Have you made up your mind," she +asked, "to cut yourself off from all of us--never to come to Kencote +again until your father dies--never to see him again?" + +"When I am married," he said, rather sullenly, "he will come +round--sooner or later." + +"Not to make the first advance, Dick. If you marry now, without his +consent, definitely against his wishes, he will make the alteration as +to the succession that he has threatened. That will be between you. +He will be very unhappy--for the rest of his life--but he will have +taken a step that will make it ten times more difficult for you to come +together than it is now, and----" + +"As far as the alteration in his will goes," Dick broke in on her, "I +have thought all that over. As I say, it's a step he has no right to +take under the circumstances, but if it is to come, if I am to come +into the place--or what's left of it--with my wings clipped for money, +then I say I'm ready to face it, and I don't mind as much as I thought +I should. Perhaps I've thought too much about money--having everything +cut and dried, and nothing to do for it. It was that that made me make +the mistake of getting Virginia to go down to Blaythorn. I was afraid +of what might happen--what he might do. It was rather mean, in a way. +I don't care what he does. At least, I care, but it isn't a thing one +ought to think too much about. Other fellows work to give their wives +a home. I'm going to do that, and I like the idea of it." + +"I think that is a good thing to do," she said rather slowly. +"But--well, you mustn't mind my speaking, plainly, Dick--I think, too, +that in your case you may make too much of it. I mean that your mind +is probably full of it now, and it is a great relief to you that you +have found a way out of what might have been a serious difficulty, and +that you are not dependent on your father in your marriage. But there +is Kencote to be thought of. You are the eldest son, and your natural +place in the world is there. At present, with your new happiness +coming to you, you are able to detach your mind from it. But when the +novelty of your new life has worn off----" + +"Oh, mother, I am not a child," he interrupted her. "I know there is +Kencote to be thought of, but not for many years yet--at least, I hope +so. And if I am to be partially disinherited, you know"--he looked at +her with a smile--"I think I had better detach my mind from it as much +as possible, don't you?" + +Again she was silent for a time, and then she said, "Do you remember +when you were a little boy, Dick, and we were together in the garden +one summer evening, and I was telling you about the Clintons, who had +lived at Kencote for so many hundreds of years, and you asked me why +some people lived in beautiful places like that and others were poor +and had no nice homes? And your father had come out to join us--he was +a young man then--and he answered your question, and told you that +things were arranged like that, and some day Kencote would be yours, +and you must learn to love every acre of it, and know all the people +who lived about you and do the best you could for them when you were +grown up and were the master of Kencote." + +"Yes, I remember quite well," said Dick. "It was the first lesson I +had in the duties of a landowner." + +"We were very happy then," she said. "We used to talk over things +together, and father took a pride in you, and did all he could to make +your childhood happy and make you take a pride in Kencote." + +"Yes, he did," said Dick. "He gave me a very good time as a boy. And +so did you, mother. I remember our talks in the garden and in the old +schoolroom, and going to church with you, and about the village. I +shall never forget those days." + +"You grew up at Kencote," she said. "I know you have always loved it, +and have come home to us whenever you could. Dick, you can't give it +up, and give us up, your parents who both love you. You will make +yourself unhappy, as well as us." + +He was thoughtful and uneasy. "Of course, it's a blow," he said. "I +do love the place." + +"And us too, Dick, don't you--a little?" + +"Oh, mother!" he said. "You have always been very good to me. Perhaps +I've been rather a brute to you--taking things for granted, and not +showing that I remembered. I do remember, you know. I had a good time +as a child, and I owe a lot to you." + +"And to father too," she said. "Think of all he did for you and how +proud he has always been of you. He has made a mistake now--I think he +has, and I tell you so--but, Dick, you are not going to punish him--and +me and yourself--by destroying, for always, everything that keeps us +united as a family?" + +Again he moved uneasily. "Well, what on earth am I to do?" he asked. +"I've told you what I feel about it all." + +"Well, don't you feel exactly as your father does? Aren't you acting +just as you blame him for acting? Don't you see how like you are to +him in many ways?" + +"The poor old governor!" said Dick. "I'm sorry for him in a way. But +I hope I don't act with quite such disregard for common sense as he +does." + +"You act from pique. He thinks you are in the wrong, and won't give +way, although he would like to. And you think he is in the wrong and +you won't move towards him. There's something better even than common +sense, Dick, which he shows and you don't. It is love." + +"I don't think you can reasonably say he has shown me much of that +lately, mother," said Dick. + +"You keep away from him," she said. "If you were to come home you +would see how he has been longing for you, and you would be sorry for +him. Even if people wrong us, if they love us and we see it, it is not +difficult to forgive them. If you would come home I think all your +anger would disappear, however much you may think you are justified in +it. I have never seen your father so unhappy and so troubled. For his +sake, Dick, for the sake of all that he has done for you, come home to +us. That was what I came here to ask of you." + +He was silent for some time, struggling with himself. "I'll come," he +said shortly, "but you must tell him, mother, that I am going to be +married soon. I can't come to enter into that question again with him. +It is settled." + +"Very well," she said quietly, and there was silence between them for a +time. + +"And now tell me of your plans, Dick," she said presently in a lighter +tone. "You must remember that I have heard nothing, and I want to hear +everything." + +"Oh, I'm going up to Yorkshire next week to get the house ready. +Virginia is coming with me and we are going to stay with Spence. It is +a nice old stone house with a big garden and a view of the moors, and +the sea beyond. Look here, mother, can't you do anything? You have +brought _me_ round, you know. I'm going to do what you want, against +my own inclinations. I shan't be very comfortable at Kencote. Can't +you go and see Virginia? It's rather hard luck for her, poor girl, to +be treated as if she were a pariah by all my people. Something's owing +to her, and a good deal, I think." + +"I should like very much to know her," she said. "Whether I can go +definitely against your father's wishes, whether I should do any good +by doing so, is a difficult question to decide." + +"Well, I suppose I can see that," he said. "You have got to live with +him. But if we are to make it up at all, he and I, which I own I +haven't much hope of, there'll have to be give and take on both sides. +You ought not to get me down to Kencote and then take his part against +me." + +"We must wait a little," she said. "What I can do I will do. Oh, Dick +dear, I am so glad you are going to be happy. I have thought about you +such a lot." + +He came over to her and kissed her. "You're a good little mother," he +said. "I wish I'd carried you off bodily to see Virginia when she +first went down there. You would have got on well together." + +"Oh, and we shall," she said, "as soon as these unhappy difficulties +are over. Now I shall go back home with a quiet mind. I'm sure, Dick, +if you are patient with your father, all the difficulties will melt +away. It rests with you, dear boy, and I'm sure you will act wisely. +Now I must be going back, if you will send for a cab for me." + +"I'll take you back," said Dick. "I want to tell you all about +everything, mother." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AUNT LAURA INTERVENES + +For an old lady who did not enjoy the best of health, who had lived all +her life in an atmosphere of congenial companionship and now lived +alone, who had no place of importance to fill in the world, and small +occupation except what she made for herself, Aunt Laura passed her days +in unusual contentment. + +The life of an old maid blessed with a sufficiency of this world's +goods is a cheerful if rather pathetic object of contemplation. You +would think they missed so much, and they seem to miss so little. +There is nothing that seems much worth their doing, unless they are +particularly gifted, and yet they are always busy. If you had paid a +visit to Aunt Laura at any time of the day you would never have found +her sitting with her hands in her lap, idle, unless it happened to be +at those times, after a meal or, as she would say, between lights, when +a short period of contemplation was as ordered a part of the day's +duties as any more active occupation. After breakfast she would be +busy with household duties, "ordering," or passing in review some or +other of her possessions, one of her three servants in attendance, +giving her whole mind to it, although the weakness of her ageing body +made it incumbent on her now chiefly to superintend from her habitation +in front of the parlour fire. Sometimes she was induced to stay in bed +until the morning was well advanced, but it was a great trial to her. +"If the mistress is not about," she would say, "all the house goes to +pieces. And although I have good and trustworthy servants, who have +been with me a long time, things go wrong if they are left too much to +themselves." So even when in bed, she would sit propped up by pillows +with a dressing-jacket round her shrunken old shoulders, giving her +orders for the meals of the day to the stout, friendly cook, who stood +by her bedside with her head on one side and made suggestions, which +were sometimes accepted and sometimes overruled, and after that +important duty was over, go through the linen with Hannah, the +parlour-maid, or arrange with Jane, the housemaid, what room should be +"turned out," and when, or other matters of like moment. + +Then she had her letters to write, quite a number of them, considering +that she had always lived at Kencote and knew very few people outside +it. When she was quite well, and the weather was quite fine, she would +dress carefully and potter about her garden, giving minute directions +to the gardener, who followed her about slowly, and took all she said +in good part, although he went his own way afterwards. Or she would +walk out into the village, leaning on Hannah's arm, sometimes go up to +the great house, or to the Rectory, sometimes into the cottages of her +friends amongst the villagers, who were always pleased to see her, for +she was of a charitable disposition, gave what rare financial aid was +required of her in a community where no one was poor, and, what was +valued more, ready sympathy and interest in trials or pleasures. + +After luncheon she had her nap and her needlework, or a book from the +library at Bathgate--one a week sent over to her by post--to occupy +her. Sometimes she played thin little pieces of music on the thin old +piano. Tea was an event, requiring much manipulation of old silver +teapots, one for the leaves and one for the brew, and when she had +company much pressing of dainty, unsubstantial viands. After tea there +were needlework and reading again until it was time for her +supper-tray. She had given up dining; her luncheon was her dinner, and +a fairly substantial one. She talked a good deal, in quite a ladylike +way, about her food. Her state of health was gauged by whether she +could "fancy" it or not. She always changed her gown in the afternoon, +and wore a silken shawl instead of the Shetland one without which she +was never seen in the morning. In the evening she spent some time over +her devotions, and with Hannah's help made a long disrobing, beginning +at a quarter to ten and ending about half-past. Then at last she lay +buried in the down of her great cumbrous bed, her night-light in the +basin, her glass of milk and her biscuits on the table by her side, all +ready for those long dead hours during which she might, if she were in +perfect health, sleep quietly, but of which she was more likely to +spend some patiently waiting for the blissful state of unconsciousness +which was so soon to close down on her for all eternity. + +She had much to think of during those hours--scenes in the long-past +years of her life when she had been young and active and had lived in +her father's house with her sisters, or during the later but still +far-off years when they had all lived together at the dower-house; of +the quick passage of time which had brought age to them and robbed her +of one after the other; of those she loved at the great house; of her +nephew's early career, which seemed to her a most distinguished one; of +his marriage; and of the coming of the dear babies, and of their growth +and the things that had happened to them. Here was abundance of +incident to provide food for a mind pasturing on memories--as much as +if she had known the great world and taken part in its many activities, +instead of passing her blameless days in a small, secluded sameness. + +Sometimes, if sleep was very long in coming, she would say over to +herself some of the poetry she had learnt by heart, or some of her +favourite passages in the Bible. And sometimes she would pray. Her +faith was simple enough. God was her Father, who knew best what was +good for her, and had a sublime tenderness for her, and for all whom +she loved. Soon she would be with Him, praising Him with voice and +harp in Elysian fields and in endless happiness, joined to those who +had gone before, who were waiting for her, and probably knew all that +she was doing or thinking. Life, for as long as she was spared, was a +precious gift, and she did not want to die; but she looked forward with +no dread to dying when her time should come. She was quite convinced +that death was only a passing over, and her experience of death-beds +had taught her that nothing very terrible took place when the spirit +parted from the body. She would cease to be, and she would join her +sisters in heaven; and whatever pain or weakness should come to her +before her departure she would have strength given to her to bear, as +her sisters had borne it. + +Since she had come to live alone in the little old house in the village +Aunt Laura's wealth had considerably increased. It did, now, amount to +wealth, for she lived on less than half her income, which at the time +of her sister's death had amounted to something like two thousand +pounds a year. + +Her father had left her and her sisters six thousand pounds apiece, and +there had been six of them when they had first moved down to the +dower-house. He had committed this rather extraordinary piece of +generosity because shortly before his death he had inherited intact the +considerable fortune of his brother, who had been a merchant in the +City of London, as his father had been before him. Merchant Jack, of +whom Aunt Laura had spoken to Susan Clinton, had inherited Kencote as a +younger son, had passed on the estates and his own acquired store of +money to his eldest son, Colonel Thomas, and his business to his +younger son, John Clinton, who had lived and died a bachelor, having +little use for the wealth he amassed, beyond that part of it which +enabled him to live in solid comfort in his old house in Bloomsbury and +lay down a cellar of fine wine, the remainder of which still shed a +golden glow over the cobwebby bins at Kencote. The thirty-six thousand +pounds with which Colonel Thomas portioned his daughters had still left +the great bulk of this windfall to go with the estate, to go rather to +the next heir, who was Edward, our Squire. + +The Squire had succeeded at the age of nineteen to a large fortune, as +well as to many thousands of acres of land, and was a much richer man +than even his sons suspected. He cared little about money, or if he +cared for it, it was not for the aggrandisement it might have brought +him. He had an income far in excess of what was required to keep up +his establishment and his property in the way he wanted to keep it up, +and what was left over he had no further use for. He had simply +allowed it to accumulate, investing the overplus of year after year in +gilt-edged securities on the advice of his old-established firm of +stockbrokers, whose forebears had also advised his, and not giving it a +thought when it was once so disposed of. The bulk of his funded +property came from the money which his great-uncle had bequeathed to +his grandfather, and some of it was still invested in the securities +which the shrewd old merchant had himself selected. It was this money +out of which, after his widow and younger children had been handsomely +provided for, Dick would inherit the sum necessary to enable him to +live at Kencote as he himself had done--if Dick behaved as he should +behave. Otherwise it would go--well, he had not yet made up his mind +where it would go. + +Now, if the jointure of the six maiden aunts had been chargeable on the +estate, as it would have been but for the old merchant's bequest, only +on a much lower scale, the Squire would no doubt have busied himself +about it, would have known exactly what proportion of it was being +spent and what saved, and might have had some suggestion to make as to +the disposal of what should remain after the death of the last sister +had caused it to revert to the estate. As it was, he hardly ever gave +it a thought. He knew that his aunts were well off, but he did not +know what sum had been left to them, although he could easily have +informed himself of it if he had cared to. Nor did he know how Aunt +Laura, in whose frail hands the whole of it had now come to lie, +proposed to leave it. It would not be quite true to say that he had +never given the matter a thought, but it would not be far from the +truth. He had so much more than sufficed for his own needs that +although he would be gratified if after Aunt Laura's death he found +himself richer by several thousand pounds, the legacy would not +actually do for him more than slightly increase his lightly borne +business cares. It would go eventually to the children, and the amount +of speculation he had ever expended on the subject was as to whether it +would come first to him, or, by Aunt Laura's direct bequest, to them, +as to which he did not care either the one way or the other. The +possibility of its being left outside the family altogether never so +much as crossed his mind, because he knew Aunt Laura quite well enough +to know that, as to the bulk of it, there was no such possibility. + +Happy Aunt Laura, to have been permitted to escape the siege which is +not seldom laid against rich maiden aunts! And happy Clintons, to have +escaped, both in youth and age, those complications which the lack of +plentiful coin brings into the lives of so many of their +fellow-creatures! + +But perhaps they had not altogether escaped them. It was doubtful, as +yet, whether the Squire, who was now thinking of using his riches as a +weapon in a way in which he had never had to think of using them +before, was the happier for having that weapon ready to his hand. +Money was for the first time playing its part in Dick's life in a way +the outcome of which was still to be seen. Humphrey, at least, had +never had enough of it to do what he wished to do, and was becoming +increasingly hungry for more. And Aunt Laura, lying sometimes for +hours on a sleepless bed, was beginning to be a little worried about +her responsibilities as the steward of a considerable fortune, +concerning whose disposition she had to come to a decision before she +could peaceably leave this world for a better one, in which money and +the anxiety attendant on it would play no part. + +She was surprisingly innocent about money, although amongst the six +sisters she had been considered the financial genius, and from the +first had kept all the accounts. "Dear Laura," Aunt Ellen had been +used to say, "has a wonderful head for pounds, shillings, and pence. +Her accounts are never out by so much as a farthing, and she would be +an ideal wife for a poor man, such as a clergyman, with a fixed but +limited income." + +She remembered this as she lay, now, in the night, turning over in her +mind this question of money, and remembered it with pride. She +remembered how upon their father's death old Mr. Pauncey, the Bathgate +solicitor, who was so old-established, and had had such a long +connection with Kencote that he might be regarded almost as an equal, +and only treated with the merest shade more of consideration than one +of the county neighbours, had explained to them all in conclave exactly +what their financial position was, and how the sum that had been left +to each of them was invested. He had had a sheet of paper with him, +from which, after taking snuff, he had read out a long list of +securities, and figures, and percentages, and left them at the end of +it mentally gasping for breath, and no wiser at all than they had been +before. + +Then it was she, the youngest of them all, who had summoned up courage +to say, "I think, Mr. Pauncey, if you would tell us exactly what sum of +money is brought in by all those--those things, we could make our +arrangements accordingly." + +She could see now, in the darkness, the admiring looks of her sisters +bent upon her, and hear the ready acquiescence of Mr. Pauncey, as, with +gold pencil-case in his hand, he made some rapid calculations, and gave +her the figures required. + +After that it was she who, with pencil in hand, secretary and treasurer +to a most serious committee, had set down on paper exactly how the +comfortable income they had had secured to them should be spent--so +much for the housekeeping, so much for wages, so much for stables, +garden, dress, charity, and so on--a delightfully interesting +occupation, as she well remembered, although readjustments had had to +be made later, and it required a good many hours a week with +account-books and paper ruled in money columns to keep unflinchingly to +the course laid down. "Laura is busy with accounts; she must not be +disturbed. The amount of trouble she gives herself to keep all our +affairs in perfect order you would hardly credit." She remembered as +if it were yesterday sitting in the oak parlour on a warm September +morning with the casement open and a scent of mignonette coming through +it, and overhearing her eldest sister talking to the old Rector, so +many years since in his grave, and the thrill of happiness that the +words had brought to her, struggling with her task and with rows of +recalcitrant figures which would not add up twice alike. + +And it had been she who had been the medium of all arrangements with +old Mr. Pauncey, who had been most attentive in coming over himself at +frequent intervals to explain any little matter that wanted +explanation, and had never changed an investment for them without +explaining exactly why he thought it ought to be changed, and, what was +perhaps more important still, giving her the exact alteration that +would be made in the figures, so that she should have no further +trouble with her accounts than was necessary. + +After a bit it was young Mr. Pauncey who had attended to their affairs, +and she remembered very well that on the occasion of his first visit +her sister Ellen had considered it advisable to sit in the room while +he disclosed the business upon which he had come over. + +"He is a very well-behaved _young_ man, my dear," Miss Clinton had +said, "although perhaps not the equal of his father, who is one of +nature's gentlemen. But in case he should presume----" + +Young Mr. Pauncey never had presumed, and he looked after Aunt Laura's +property to this day, and would continue to "attend on her" until her +death, if he survived her, although he had long since devised all his +other professional cases to his son and grandson. She relied greatly +on young Mr. Pauncey's advice, and had long since forgiven him for the +slight disturbance he had once made in objecting to carry out certain +of their decisions. It had been necessary for Aunt Anne, upon whom it +had always devolved to say the word that would put people in their +places when that word had to be said, to end the discussion with a +speech that shook a little in the middle: "Mr. Pauncey, we have asked +you to come here to take our instructions. It will save time if you +will kindly write them down at once." + +How splendid dear Anne had been on that occasion--quite polite, but +quite firm! And young Mr. Pauncey, it had afterwards been agreed, had +behaved admirably too. With a courteous smile he had said, "Very well, +ladies, I will say no more," and had then helped them most lucidly to +put their decision into proper form, and had since admitted handsomely +that their carefully considered plan had worked well, adding that he +had felt himself obliged to criticise it, entirely in their own +interest. + +A trust had been formed with young Mr. Pauncey, in whom, as they +assured him, they had complete confidence, as sole trustee. The six +separate estates were pooled and the income from the whole capital +could be drawn on by the cheque of any of the six beneficiaries. The +disadvantage of this scheme, as young Mr. Pauncey had ventured to point +out at the time, was that if any one of them quarrelled with the other +five, or got married, it was in her power to cause them considerable +inconvenience by appropriating more than her share of the income, or, +if she wrote her cheques at the right moment, the whole of it. It was +at this point that Aunt Anne had interposed with her famous speech, and +young Mr. Pauncey had ceased to make objections, probably consoling +himself with the reflection that, as trustee, he could put an end to +the inconvenience at any time that it should arise. + +But the sisters had never quarrelled and none of them had married, and +young Mr. Pauncey at the age of seventy-five was obliged to admit to +himself that the most highly irregular arrangement he had ever +legalised had also turned out to have worked with the least possible +amount of friction. No further adjustments had had to be made as one +sister after the other had died; none of them had made a will or had +needed to; and Aunt Laura, the last survivor, was now in automatic +possession of the whole, as all the sisters had wished that the last +survivor should be. "We are agreed," Aunt Ellen had said in conclave, +"that the bulk of the money shall go back to dear Edward, or to his +children if he marries and has any; let the last of us who is left +alive carry out our joint wishes without being tied up by promises or +papers. That to my mind is the ideal arrangement. Circumstances may +arise which we cannot now foresee. Let the one of us who is spared +longest have power to deal with them, under the kind advice of young +Mr. Pauncey, if he also is spared so long, and not be hampered by what +is called red tape." + +And so the passing away of one sister after another had not been +harassed by questions of property, and it was not until Aunt Ellen the +eldest and Aunt Laura the youngest had been left alone together that +any discussion at all had arisen as to the disposal of the money which +they shared. They had talked of it together, and had called young Mr. +Pauncey into advice. + +Young Mr. Pauncey, now a little deaf and a little feeble in body, +though not in brain, and as courteous and helpful as ever, had advised +that the money should be equally divided amongst the Squire's younger +children. "There are six of them," he had said very happily, "just as +there were six of you ladies. Mr. Clinton would probably dispose of it +in that way if you were to leave it to him, and I shall not be +betraying confidence if I say that Captain Clinton is already very +handsomely provided for." + +So it had been agreed upon provisionally, but the question of making a +will had been left in abeyance, and later on it had been thought that +Cicely might possibly have rather more than the others, because Jim was +not too well off, owing to those wicked death duties, and later still +that Dick, perhaps, ought to have some, because they were not supposed +to know what would be done for him, and they would not like him to feel +himself left out in the cold; and by and by that it might be better, +after all, to ask Edward to decide the matter himself. But nothing had +been done. Aunt Ellen had died, and Aunt Laura had postponed coming to +a decision at all for two years past, thinking over the matter +occasionally, but never finding herself, as she expressed it, "guided." + +Now she had begun to feel that she must come to a decision, and the +guidance, in a dim sort of way, seemed to be making itself felt. She +had never had any particular favourite amongst her nephew's children. +Cicely would have been the favourite if she had not been a girl, for +she had been much with her aunts before her marriage, and there had +been more community of interest with her than with the rest. But it +was impossible to put a girl Clinton before a boy Clinton, and her +claim bulked no larger than those of Dick, Humphrey, Walter, or Frank. +And hitherto, except in the case of Dick, there had seemed to be no +reason for preferring one of the boys before the other. + +But lately Aunt Laura had become considerably attached to Humphrey, +whom, in the past, she had perhaps liked least of all the boys, +although she would not have admitted as much to herself. He had been +much away from Kencote, and had seemed so "grand" in his ways and ideas +that she had been a little nervous of him on the rare occasions on +which he had visited her. But lately, she thought, he had "softened." +He must have felt, she told herself with a tremulous gratification, +that she was the last of all his great-aunts left, that she would not +be much longer with them, and that attention to her, although it could +not bring him anything, would be deeply appreciated, as indeed it had +been. He had been so very kind, cheering up her rather lonely days +with constant visits, whenever he had been at home, making her those +little presents which, because they showed real appreciation of what +would give her pleasure, had meant so much to her, and latterly taking +her into his confidence and telling her things about himself of a sort +which no man, young or old, amongst her relatives, or indeed outside of +them, had ever confided to her before. + +It was this which had caused her such intense gratification. +Throughout the whole of their lives she and her sisters had had to +fight against the feeling that, although they were kindly treated, and +even deferred to, by the members of their little world, they were of no +real account. Slights, which had not been intended for slights, had +sometimes distressed them, and they had had on occasions to assure each +other that nothing could have been further from the intention of those +who had wounded them than to do so. To ask their advice, to prove that +they were not unimportant members of a family to which they had given a +life-long allegiance--this was the straight way to their hearts, and it +had seldom been taken. All the kindnesses that could be heaped on them +would have been outweighed by one cry for succour or sympathy. + +That cry had never come--perhaps there had been nothing in the even +lives of their relations to bring it; but of all the talks she had ever +had with any of her great-nieces and nephews Aunt Laura had most +enjoyed those which she had lately had with Humphrey, for they had come +nearest to it. + +He had, indeed, shared a secret with her. He was in love, and nobody +in the family knew it but she. And he was in love with that dear nice +girl who had come once or twice to see her, had shown her more than +friendliness, almost affection, and made for herself a warm little +corner in a warm heart. Susan Clinton also had confided in her a +little. At any rate she had permitted her to see that Humphrey's +feelings for her were returned. And when she had bid her farewell she +had kissed her and said, "I have loved these talks with you, Aunt +Laura"--yes, she had called her that, although, of course, the +relationship was a very distant one--"it is so nice to feel that one +has a friend at Kencote." + +But falling in love is one thing and getting married--the natural +result of falling in love--is another; and Humphrey had confided to her +that there were obstacles in the way of his getting married. + +Of course, although Susan Clinton did not belong to the elder branch of +the family, facts must be looked squarely in the face, and the daughter +of an earl, even of an earl of no great wealth, had a right to expect +something more elaborate in the setting up of married life than a girl +of lesser lineage. Humphrey very sensibly saw that. "I can't very +well ask for her, you see, Aunt Laura," he had said, "unless I know +that I can give her the sort of thing, more or less, that she has been +accustomed to." + +Aunt Laura had quite seen it, and he had put it still more clinchingly +when he had said on another occasion, "You see, it wouldn't do for them +to think she was taking a step downward in marrying me." + +Good gracious, no! A Clinton of Kencote was good enough to marry +anybody, short of royalty. Rich enough too--or ought to be--even a +younger son, if the marriage was a desirable one, as this undoubtedly +seemed to be. "I think your dear father would be pleased," she had +said. "He would wish that all of you should marry in your own rank in +life, and he would be well aware that that cannot be done, in these +days when married life seems so much more expensive than it used to be, +without an adequate income. I think, dear Humphrey, that I should tell +him if I were you, and throw yourself on his generosity, which I have +no reason whatever for thinking would fail you." + +Yes, Humphrey had supposed that he would do that sooner or later; in +fact, he would have to, because his profession was not one out of which +a satisfactory income could be made, at any rate in its early stages. +Of course, if the worst came to the worst he could give up his +profession, and take to something else out of which money could be made. + +Aunt Laura had resolutely combated this idea. His profession was a +dignified and honourable one. She was sure that he would make his name +at it and rise very high. It seemed unfair that the country should pay +so badly for such important work, but it was an undoubted advantage in +these radical days to have men of family serving their country, and she +supposed that if diplomacy was a career out of which money could be +made it would be thrown open to everybody. It was better as it was, +and at any rate if his father had not been willing to provide for him +he would not have put him where he was. She saw nothing for it but a +frank opening up to him. He could not possibly intend that Humphrey +should never marry. He was of the age to marry, and the marriage he +proposed was satisfactory in every way. + +Humphrey had again acquiesced, but lukewarmly, and had said no more at +the time. + +Later on the reason of his lukewarmness and air of depression had come +out, not without pressure on Aunt Laura's part. "Well, I'll tell you +how it is, Aunt Laura," he had said, "as you are so kind and have +listened to everything I've told you. One likes unburdening one's self +occasionally, as long as one knows it doesn't go any further." + +Of course it would go no further, Aunt Laura had told him, and then +came his story. He had been extravagant. He was in debt, rather +heavily, and not for the first time. He blamed himself very much, +especially now he wanted to make an alteration in his life altogether, +and saw how important it was to keep strictly within one's income. His +father had been good about it--over the other two crises--but she would +see that when a thing like this had happened twice, with promises of +amendment each time, which he must confess had not been kept, the third +time there was likely to be a considerable disturbance. She knew what +his father was. He would be much upset--naturally--he shouldn't blame +him. He would most likely pay his debts and start him again, but he +would not be likely to pass immediately from such an undertaking to the +discussion of a large increase in Humphrey's allowance, such as would +enable him comfortably to contemplate married life with a wife who had +a right to expect as much as Susan. He thought his father would not be +displeased with the marriage and not averse, eventually, to make it +possible for him. If only these wretched debts had not been hanging +round his neck like a millstone--if he were a free man--he would go to +him at once. As it was--well, he was in a mess, and, frankly, he +funked it. + +Aunt Laura, listening to this rigmarole, and gathering from it only +that the poor boy was in trouble, not of a disgraceful sort, but in the +way that young men of good birth and necessarily expensive habits did +get into trouble, felt a warm pleasure rise, increase, and spread +itself in a glow all over her. She had been deemed worthy of this +affectionate confidence, which in itself would have caused her joy. +How much more so when she felt herself capable of putting an end to it! +With a flush on her withered cheeks and a light in her old eyes she had +said, "I am so sorry for you, dear Humphrey. Could you tell me--do you +mind--how much money your debts amount to?" + +"Oh!" Humphrey had said in an offhand manner, "I suppose about seven +hundred pounds--no, more--nearer eight hundred. It's a lot, I know, +considering that I was whitewashed a couple of years ago; but--oh, +well, I won't make excuses. I've been very extravagant, and now I've +got to pay for it." + +Then Aunt Laura had offered to pay his debts for him, and he had at +first refused, laughing at her, but expressing his surprise and deep +gratitude at the same time, then, taking the offer a little more +seriously, said that it was out of the question, because his father +would be annoyed, and finally when she had told him that his father +need not know, that it would be a little secret between them two, had +accepted with the most heartfelt expressions of gratitude, which +touched her, now, whenever she thought of them. + +She had written him a cheque there and then--for eight hundred +pounds--and he had joked with her in his amusing way about her having +such a large sum at her immediate disposal, asking if she was quite +sure that the cheque would be honoured, because it would never do for a +Clinton to run any risks of that sort. He had seemed, she remembered, +really surprised that she _should_ be able to draw a cheque for so +large a sum, without ever, as he had expressed it, turning a hair, and +she had explained that for the past two years she had not spent half +her income, and that a large balance was lying in the bank to her +credit, which young Mr. Pauncey had lately written to her about +investing. "I have not been quite well enough to want to talk business +with him for some time," she had said, "kind and considerate as he is, +and I think it must have been ordained that I should not do so, for +when I did say that I should be able to see him on such a morning--oh, +I suppose now a fortnight ago, or perhaps three weeks--he was not well +himself and went away afterwards, and so it got put off. I shall tell +him now there will not be so much to invest as he had thought, knowing +as he does about what my expenditure is, and I need not say, dear +Humphrey, how glad I am that it is so, for I do not want a larger +income, and I _do_ want to help those who are dear to me." + +So that little episode was over and had been most agreeable to all +parties concerned. Humphrey had not yet told his father about his +matrimonial projects, because, as he had explained to her, his debts +would take a week or two to settle up, and he did not want to make a +move until he was quite clear. But he had come down to Kencote again +in the meantime, and had amused and pleased her by his accounts of his +debt-paying experiences, and of how he had told Susan of what she had +done, and of how grateful Susan was to her--for they had fixed it up +between them now. "Whatever the governor does for us," Humphrey had +said, "we shall be able to get along somehow. _You_ have made that +possible, Aunt Laura. We may have to be very economical, but with a +clear run ahead of us we don't mind that. She is just as keen now to +keep out of debt as I am." + +And the end of their talks so far had been on a note of still further +possibility. "I should like to know," Aunt Laura had said, "exactly +what your dear father is prepared to do for you, Humphrey, when you +tell him. When I know, I should like a little talk with him. For I +may be able to help matters." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AN ENGAGEMENT + +Mrs. Clinton reached Kencote in the dusk of the January afternoon and +found the twins on the platform awaiting her. With the station staff +and the other passengers in the train as audience, they gave her an +all-embracing and, indeed, somewhat vociferous welcome, and led her to +the carriage, one on each side of her, with little squeezings of the +arms and continued expressions of joy. + +"We shan't let you out of our sight again, mother," said Joan as they +drove off. "It has been perfectly awful without you. We haven't known +what to do at all." + +"I hope you haven't been getting into mischief," said Mrs. Clinton, +with an indulgent smile. + +"We have been as good as gold," said Nancy. "You would hardly have +recognised us. Haven't you noticed our gardenias? Humphrey gave them +to us. He said they were the white flowers of a blameless life." + +"Is Humphrey still at home?" Mrs. Clinton asked. + +"Yes," said Joan; "and something has happened, mother; we don't quite +know what, but we think he has got engaged." + +"Engaged!" exclaimed their mother. + +"Yes. Of course you know who it is." + +Mrs. Clinton thought for a moment. "What has put the idea into your +heads?" she asked. + +"Father is very pleased with him," explained Joan. "And that is the +only thing we can think of to account for it. But we have seen it +coming for a long time." + +"Well, for about a fortnight," corrected Nancy. "It's Susan Clinton, +of course. Do you like her, mother?" + +Mrs. Clinton did not reply to this question, and Joan said, "We are +prepared to give her a sisterly welcome." + +"If she treats us well we'll treat her well," said Nancy. "And we like +the idea of Mr. Humphrey and Lady Susan Clinton. It's so Morning +Posty." + +"I think you are running ahead a little fast," said their mother. +"Don't you want to hear about your new governess?" + +"Oh yes! What is she like?" exclaimed the twins in one breath. + +"She is very learned, and rather severe," said Mrs. Clinton. "You will +have to work very hard with her." + +"We are quite ready to do that," said Nancy. "Is she ornamental?" + +"Not at all," replied Mrs. Clinton. "And her name is Miss Phipp. She +is coming in ten days, so you must make the best of your holidays until +then." + +Nancy sighed. "Our happy childhood is over," she said. "No more will +the house ring with our careless laughter. In ten days' time we shall +become fevered students." + +"I hope it won't be quite so bad as that," said Mrs. Clinton. + +The Squire was waiting at the door. He had never before kissed his +wife before the servants, but he did so now. If they liked to go away +and talk about it they might. "We'll have no more of this gadding +about," he said jovially. "We want you at home, don't we, children?" + +"Rather," said the twins, renewing their embraces; and Mrs. Clinton +felt that there was nothing lacking in the warmth of her welcome. + +They went into the morning-room where the tea-table was already set and +the kettle boiling over its spirit-lamp. "I told 'em to bring up tea," +said the Squire; "I want a word with you. Now run along, children. +You can talk to your mother afterwards." + +The twins obediently retired. "He's full of it," said Joan. "What a +childish pleasure he takes in a piece of news!" + +"If it is as we believe," said Nancy, "we mustn't call her Silky Susan +any more." + +"She's all right, really," said Joan, "if you get her away from her +awful old mother." + +The Squire, left alone with his wife, took up his favourite attitude in +front of the fire. "I've got a piece of news for you, Nina," he said. +"What would you think of another marriage in the family?" + +Mrs. Clinton, busy with her tea-making, looked up at him. + +"I'm pleased about it," said the Squire, who, warming himself in the +Englishman's citadel, and keeping away the fire from his wife, who was +cold after her journey, looked thoroughly pleased. "She's a nice girl, +although I can't say I took much to her mother, and don't want to see +more of her than is necessary. It's Humphrey, Nina--Humphrey and Susan +Clinton. It seems they've taken to each other, and if I can make it +all right for them, they want to get married. I'm quite ready to do my +part. I'm quite glad that Humphrey wants to settle down at last. And +if things are going wrong in other quarters, as unfortunately they seem +to be, this will make up for it a little. They can have the +dower-house, and if an heir to Kencote comes from this marriage--well, +it will be a very satisfactory arrangement." + +This was going ahead with a vengeance. Mrs. Clinton thought of Dick. +Was he, then, to be finally shouldered out of his place, and Humphrey +installed in it, securely, instead? "Would he give up his profession?" +she asked. + +"We haven't talked about it yet," said the Squire. "But that is my +idea. I want somebody here to help me, and if Dick has decided to cut +the cable, then we had better face facts and arrange matters +accordingly." + +His face changed as he mentioned his eldest son. That wound still +rankled, but it was plain that the salve was already working. "I have +done my best," he said, "and it has all been no good. Now what we have +to do is to forget all about it and do what we can in other directions. +Walter's a good boy, although a bit headstrong and obstinate. Still, +he's made his own life and is happy in it, and I will say for him that +he's never given me any serious trouble. I've had that with Humphrey. +He has been extremely tiresome about money matters, and I own that I +thought there was another storm of that sort blowing up, and haven't +been quite so friendly towards the boy as I might have been. I'm sorry +for it now, and I'll make up for it; for he tells me he doesn't owe a +single penny." + +Mrs. Clinton looked up in surprise. "Did he tell you that definitely?" +she asked. + +"Why, don't you believe him?' asked the Squire rather sharply. + +"I should believe him if he said it plainly," she replied. + +"Well, he did say it plainly. 'I don't owe anybody a penny,' he said, +'although I can't say I have much of a balance in the bank.' I never +supposed he would have that. If the boys keep out of debt on what I +allow them, that's all I ask. But I'll own it surprised me, as it +seems to have surprised you, that he _has_ kept out of debt since the +last time, and I put it to him again. 'If there's anything to settle +up,' I said, 'you had better let me know now. You don't want to begin +married life with anything hanging over you!' And he said again, +'There's nothing at all. I don't owe anybody a penny.' So there it +is, Nina. The boy's a good boy at heart, and I'm pleased with him. +And as for the girl, I think she'll turn out well. Get her away from +all that nonsense she has been brought up to, and settle her down here, +in a pretty place like the dower-house, with a good income to keep +things going as they ought to be kept going--I'll do that for them--and +I believe she'll turn out trumps, and I hope we shan't be wanting a +grandson long. That's what pleases me, Nina"--his face beamed as he +said it. "I'm an active man, but I'm getting on a bit now, and I +should like to see my grandson growing up before I have to go and leave +it all. That's been at the bottom of half I've felt about this +wretched affair of Dick's; and it made me more annoyed than perhaps I +need have been about Walter settling down in a place like Melbury Park. +To see a boy growing up at Kencote, as I grew up, and taking to it from +the time he's a baby--that'll be a great thing, Nina, eh?" + +He was exalted by his rosy dream. He saw himself leading a tiny child +by the hand, very tender with his littleness, showing him this and +that, hearing his prattle about familiar things, putting him later on a +pony, and later still teaching him to shoot, watching him grow, sending +him off to school, perhaps as an old man hearing of his doings at the +University or in the service,--a fine, tall, straight young Clinton, +fortunate inheritor of generations of good things, and made worthy of +them, largely through his own guidance. So he had thought about Dick, +years before, sitting before the fire, or pacing his room downstairs, +while his wife and his little son, the centre of all his hopes, lay +sleeping above, or out of doors as he had followed his favourite +pursuits, and found new zest in them. But in those days he had been +young, and his own life stretched immeasurably before him, with much to +do and many things to be enjoyed. His own life was still strong in +him, to hold and enjoy, but what should come after it was far more +important now than it had been then, and he desired much more ardently +to see its beginnings. And Dick had foiled his hopes. This was to be +a new start, out of which better things should come. He wanted it +keenly, and because he had had most things that he wanted in life, it +seemed natural that it should be coming to him, and coming from a +quarter whose signs he had not previously examined. "Nina," he said +again, "I want to see my grandson grow up at Kencote." + +She paused a moment before she said quietly, "As you saw Dick grow up +years ago." + +His sunny vision was clouded. He frowned. "We must make up our minds +to do without Dick," he said; "he won't come here. He has practically +thrown us off." + +"No," she said. "I have seen him, and he is coming here on Friday." + +He stared at her, the frown still on his face. He was moved by her +news, but not altogether to pleasure. His mind was running on new +desires, and it was an effort to adjust it to old ones. + +"You've seen him?" he said. "What did you say to him? You didn't make +him think that I was going to give way?" + +"No. He does not expect that, or, I think, hope for it now." + +"Is _he_ going to give way, then?" + +"No. Not that, either. He is going to be married very soon." + +"Then what does he want to come here for? I won't receive that woman, +whether he marries her or not. And if he marries her I'll disinherit +him as far as I'm able to. I don't go back from my word. If he thinks +he's going to turn me--if he's coming here with that idea--he'd better +stop away." + +"He doesn't think that," said Mrs. Clinton. "I don't think he will +want to speak of anything that has been between you. He knows, and he +has made up his mind to it. Don't you want to see him, Edward? He is +coming because he wants to see you." + +The Squire's face showed a flush, and he looked down. "I shall be very +glad to see him," he said, and went out of the room. + +The next morning at breakfast time a note was handed to the Squire from +Aunt Laura, asking him if he could make it quite convenient to come and +see her during the day, as she wished to consult him upon matters of +business. + +"Matters of business!" he echoed, reading out the note. "Now it's a +remarkable thing that none of the old aunts has ever wished to consult +me on matters of business before, though I should always have been +ready to do what I could for them. I wonder what the old lady wants." + +"I think I know," said Joan. + +Humphrey looked at her sharply from across the table. "You can't +possibly know anything about it," he said. + +"She wants to keep guinea-pigs," pursued Joan, unmoved. "She told me +about some she had when she was little, and said she should like to +have them again." + +"Humphrey might give her a hutch for a Christmas present," suggested +Nancy. + +"Don't talk nonsense, children," ordered the Squire. "You might run +down to her after breakfast and say I will come and see her at eleven +o'clock." + +At the hour mentioned he marched into Aunt Laura's parlour, bringing +with him into the rather close atmosphere a breath of the cold bright +winter day. "Well, Aunt Laura," he said in his hearty voice, "you want +me to help you settle your affairs, eh? What about Mr. Pauncey? +Shan't I be making him jealous?" + +Aunt Laura, with thoughts of "refreshment" filling her mind, did not +reply to this question until he was sitting opposite to her with a +glass of sherry and a dry biscuit by his side. Then she said, "It will +be a matter for Mr. Pauncey by and by, Edward. It is about Humphrey. +I wished to consult you about doing something for dear Humphrey and the +nice girl he is going to marry." + +"Oh, you've heard about that already, have you?" exclaimed the Squire. +"Good news travels fast, eh? Well, it isn't a bad thing, is it? +Another young couple settling down--what? Who let you into the secret, +Aunt Laura?" + +"Dear Humphrey has told me all about it," said the old lady, with some +pride. "I was the first to know. And he brought the nice girl to see +me when she was here at Christmas time, and she came by herself +afterwards. I liked her very much, Edward, and I hope you do too." + +"Oh yes, I like her," said the Squire. "It's an engagement that +promises well. So you want to give them a wedding present, eh? Well, +now, if I might suggest, and you cared to spend the money, how about a +smart little pony dogcart, with harness and everything, and a pony, +which I'd look out for you and take some trouble about it?--very +pleased to. That would be a very handsome present. I don't know +whether you'd care to go up to it. It would cost you about--about----" + +"Thank you, Edward," Aunt Laura interrupted him. "I think that might +be a good idea for one of my presents, and I will think it over and +very likely accept your very kind offer. But it was not exactly a +wedding present that I had in my mind when I asked you to come and see +me, which you have so kindly and promptly done. As you know, I have an +income far above my needs, and there is a considerable sum of money +belonging to me which will go to the children after my death. How much +it is I could not tell you exactly without consulting Mr. Pauncey, +which I propose to do when I am better and he is better. But what I +should wish to do is to make Humphrey an allowance to supplement what +you yourself propose to allow him, and in my will I should like--but +this I will not settle upon against your wishes, not by any means--I +should like to--well, if you understand what I mean--to make Humphrey, +as it were, more my heir, perhaps, than the other children." + +Probably Aunt Laura had never before addressed a speech so long to her +nephew without being interrupted, but his surprise at the disclosure of +her wishes had kept him silent until she had finished. + +"Well, that is certainly a generous proposal of yours, Aunt Laura," he +said; "the allowance, I mean. As for the other----" + +But it was Aunt Laura who interrupted now. "You see, Edward," she said +eagerly, "it is like this--I have thought it over carefully--Humphrey +seems to me to want the money more than the others. Dick, I take +it--but of course I do not want to pry in the very least into your +concerns--will be so well provided for that any little extra sum I left +to him would be more in the nature of a compliment." She went on +through the others, explaining why she thought Humphrey might fairly be +preferred to them, and emphasising the fact that they would all get +_something_; but the Squire was not listening to her. He was thinking +about Dick. Dick, if he carried out his intentions, would not be well +provided for. He would be, as the Squire thought, a poor man. Here +were complications. He did not want Aunt Laura to make Dick her heir +to the exclusion of the rest; but the weight of his own apparently now +fruitless threat to disinherit him was always growing heavier on him, +and he certainly did not want her to deny him his share under a false +conception of the true state of affairs. He regretted now that all +news of what had been happening lately with regard to Dick had been +kept from Aunt Laura. Must he give her a hint as to how the land lay? +He could not make up his mind, on the spur of the moment, to do so. He +shirked the laborious explanations that would be necessary, the +surprise, and all that would follow. And even when she had adjusted +her mind to the news, he did not know what he should advise her to do. + +"As far as that goes," he said, "--making Humphrey your heir, as you +say,--I should like to think that over a bit. Of course, you can do +what you like with your own money, but----" + +"Oh, but I should not think of acting against your wishes, Edward," +said Aunt Laura. + +"No, you're very good about that," he said kindly. "I've always known +you would do what was right, and I haven't interfered with you in any +way, and don't want to. But let's leave that for a bit. Don't make +any decision till we've had another talk. As far as the allowance +goes, I'm going to treat the boy generously. I haven't made up my mind +yet about the exact sum, but of course I needn't say it wouldn't be +altered by anything you liked to add. That would be an extra bit of +spending for them, and I've no doubt they would make good use of it. +What was it you thought of, Aunt Laura?" + +"Well," said the old lady slowly, "I think, Edward--if you don't +mind--you won't be offended with me, I do hope--I have no wish in the +_least_ to make it conditional--but I should take it as a great +compliment if you would tell me first--when you have made up your +mind--what allowance you yourself had thought of." + +The Squire stared at her, and then burst out laughing. In an unwonted +flash of insight he saw what she would be at, the diffident, +submissive, gentle old woman, to whom he and everything he did or said +were above all admitted criticism. "Well, if you must push me into a +corner, Aunt Laura," he said, "I may as well settle the figure with you +now. I'll start them with fifteen hundred a year and a house. There +now. What are you going to put to that?" + +"I will put to that," replied Aunt Laura, equally prompt, "another five +hundred a year, and the dear young people will be very well off." + +The Squire stared again. "By Jove!" he said in astonishment, "I'd no +idea you meant to do anything of that sort." + +"But you said it would make no difference to what you would do," she +said a little anxiously. + +The Squire leant forward in his chair and touched her knee. "Aunt +Laura," he said, "you are a very clever old lady." + +"Oh, Edward," she expostulated, "I hope you don't think----" + +"Oh, you knew," he said, leaning back again in great good-humour, "you +knew well enough. If you had told me you were going to that figure at +first, you knew that I should be thinking that twelve hundred a year +from me instead of fifteen would do very well. And that's just what I +should have thought, by Jove! Any man would. However, I have no wish +to save my pocket at the expense of yours, and we'll let it stand at +what I said. But I say, are you sure you can manage it all right? +It's a good deal of money, you know. You won't be narrowing yourself, +eh? I shouldn't like to feel that you weren't every bit as comfortable +as you ought to be--what?" + +Aunt Laura assured him that she would remain every bit as comfortable +as she ought to be, and finally he left her and walked home, whistling +to himself every now and then as he went over the points of their +conversation, and once or twice laughing outright at his memories. "By +Jove! she had me," he said to himself, after he had gained the +comparative seclusion of his park and could stop in the road to give +vent to his merriment. "Who'd have thought it of old Aunt Laura?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +DICK COMES HOME + +As the time came near for Dick's visit the Squire's mood changed from +one of genial satisfaction to a nervous irascibility, which, as Joan +said to Nancy, made him very difficult to live with. + +"I know," Nancy agreed. "It is really rather degrading to have to try +and keep him in a good temper." + +"Good temper!" repeated Joan. "It is as much as one can do to keep him +from snapping off one's head for nothing at all; in fact, one can't do +it." + +"I think," said Nancy reflectively, "that a time will come when we +shall have to take father in hand and teach him how to behave. That's +darling mother's mistake--that she's never done it. My view is that a +woman has got to keep a man in order, or he will tyrannise over her. +Don't you think that is so, Joan?" + +"From what I have observed," replied Joan--they were sitting on the big +sofa before the schoolroom fire--"I should say it was. And it's a bad +thing for men themselves. Of course, we know quite well that father is +frightened to death of what Dick will say to him when he comes, but if +we were old enough--and mother cared to do it--to make him hide it up +when he's with us, it wouldn't have nearly such a bad effect on him. +He would have to forget it sometimes; now he never does." + +Whether or no the Squire was frightened to death of what Dick would say +to him when he came, he was certainly upset at the idea of what lay +before him. Although he had as yet taken no definite steps, he had +come to the decision that Dick, as far as was possible, should be +disinherited, if he made the marriage that now seemed inevitable. The +news of Humphrey's desirable engagement had made the other look still +more undesirable, and it had taken off the edge of his strong aversion +to act in a way so opposed to all his life-long intentions. It seemed +almost to have justified his decision, and it had certainly softened to +himself the sting of it. + +But it was one thing to allow his mind to dwell on the unhoped-for +compensations of his decision, when Dick by his own choice had cut +himself off from Kencote and remained away from it, and it was quite +another to contemplate his coming back, before the decision was made +irrevocable, on a footing so different from the one he had hitherto +occupied. The Squire was made intensely uncomfortable at the thought +of how he should bear himself. He did now want to see his eldest son +again, and to be friends with him. That desire had been greatly +weakened while his mind had occupied itself with Humphrey's affair, but +he saw, dimly, that it had only been sleeping, that he would always +want Dick, however much he might have reason to be pleased with +Humphrey, and that he was laying up for himself unhappiness in the +future in working to put Humphrey into Dick's place, as he had rashly +promised himself that he would do. + +Humphrey, perhaps unwisely as regards his own interest, had announced +his departure for London soon after it was known that Dick was coming +down, and the Squire was left to turn things over in his mind with the +distraction of Humphrey's affairs and Humphrey's presence withdrawn +from him. + +The twins went in the carriage to meet Dick at the station. They +squeezed in on either side of him and made their pleasure at seeing him +both vocal and tangible. + +"Dear, darling old Dick," said Joan, trying to seize his hand under the +bearskin rug, "it is very wrong of you to stay away from home. We've +missed you awfully." + +"You seem more of a fluffy angel than ever now we have got you back," +said Nancy. "How true it is what the old Starling used to say, that we +don't know our blessings till they have left us." + +"Thanks very much," replied Dick. "What's this I hear about Humphrey +being engaged? But I suppose they wouldn't have told you yet." + +"Told us!" echoed Joan. + +"We told _them_!" said Nancy. + +"Oh, you did! Trust you for nosing out a secret." + +"It wasn't much of a secret," said Joan. "Silky Susan--oh, I beg her +pardon, we mustn't call her that now--I mean sweet Sue, was all +eyes--big round ones." + +"And she took a great deal of trouble to ingratiate herself with us," +said Nancy. "We're not considered worth it as a rule, and of course we +see through it in a moment, because we're not really her sort." + +"But we're going to be," said Joan. "Humphrey told us that we ought to +copy her in the way we behave, and we said we would." + +"Jolly glad to get the chance," added Nancy. "We want to be sweet +girls, but nobody has ever shown us how, before." + +"Oh, you're all right," said Dick. "You needn't try to alter." + +"Thank you, dear Dick," replied Joan. "You are blind to our faults, +and it is very sweet of you. But there is room for improvement, and +what with Miss Phipp to train our brains and sweet Sue Clinton to +improve our manners, we feel we're getting a tremendous chance, don't +we, Nancy?" + +"Rather!" acquiesced Nancy; "the chance of a life time. We lie awake +at night thinking about it." + +Dick let them chatter on, and retired into his own thoughts. He would +have liked to know how his father had taken the news of his coming, but +was unwilling to question them, and he had never allowed them to +exercise their critical faculties on their father before him; so they +were not likely now to volunteer enlightenment. As the carriage rolled +smoothly over the gravel of the drive through the park, he too, like +his father, felt some discomfort at the thought of the meeting that lay +before him. + +Except that he had come out of his room and was waiting in the hall to +receive his son, which had not been his usual custom, there was nothing +in the Squire's greeting which could arouse comment amongst the +servants who were present at it. This was always a great point at +Kencote. "For God's sake, don't let the servants talk," was a phrase +often on the Squire's lips; but he himself, in any crisis, provided +them with more food for talk than anybody else. + +"How are you, Dick?" he said, shaking hands. "We were beginning to +think we should never see you again." (This was for the benefit of the +servants.) "The meet's at Horley Wood to-morrow, but I'm not going +out. I've got a touch of rheumatism. Come in and have a cup of tea." + +They all went into the morning-room. "Mother, can't we begin to have +tea downstairs now?" asked Joan. "We're quite old enough. We don't +make messes any more." + +Thus by a timely stroke a long-desired concession was won, for the only +obstacle hitherto in the way had been the Squire's firm pronouncement +that children ought to be kept in their proper place as long as they +were children, and the proper place for Joan and Nancy at tea-time was +the schoolroom. But he was now so greatly relieved at having them +there to centre conversation on that he said with a strong laugh, +taking Joan by the shoulder and drawing her to him, "Now, there's +impudence for you! But I think we might let them off the chain now, +mother, eh?" + +"In holiday time," acquiesced Mrs. Clinton, "and on the days when +they're not at lessons." + +"But if they get sticky with jam," said Dick, "they lose their +privilege for a week." + +"And any one who drops crumbs on the carpet must have tea with us in +the schoolroom for a week," said Nancy. + +The subject was discussed at some length on those lines until Mrs. +Clinton sent the twins up to take off their hats, when their elders +still went on discussing them. + +"So you've chosen the blue-stocking, mother," said Dick. + +"Yes; she is coming next week," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"Mother didn't want anybody dangerously attractive about the house," +said the Squire, hastening to take up that subject, which was continued +until the twins returned, when they were allowed to dominate the +conversation to an unusual degree. + +But at last the time came when the Squire had always been accustomed to +say, "Well, we'll go into my room and have a cigar," or to go out +without saying anything, with the certainty of Dick's following him. +He could not now go out of the room without saying anything, for that +would have amounted to a declaration made before the children that he +did not want Dick's company, and he shirked the usual formula which +would precipitate the "talk" that he dreaded. + +Dick relieved him for the time being. "I'll go into the smoking-room +and write a few letters," he said. + +"Ah, well, I'll go into my room and smoke a cigar," said the Squire, +making a move. + +Mrs. Clinton asked Joan to ring the bell. "They may not have lit the +fire in the smoking-room," she said. + +The Squire looked back. "Eh? What!" he said sharply. "Of course +they've lit it, if one of the boys is at home." + +But it appeared that they had not lit it, and "they," in the person of +a footman, were instructed to repair the oversight immediately. It was +a disturbing episode. Dick had used the smoking-room less than the +others, having usually shared the Squire's big room with him as if it +were his own, and they had probably omitted to light the smoking-room +fire when he only of the boys was at home, on occasions before, without +the omission being noticed. But it looked as if differences were +beginning to be made, as if the dread "they" had begun to talk; and the +Squire hated the suspicion of their talk like poison. At any rate, it +drew attention to Dick's announcement that he would write his letters +in the smoking-room instead of in the library, and that would be food +for talk. He said with a frown, "Hadn't you better come into my room? +You can write your letters there. You generally do." + +So Dick followed him, and the door was shut on them. + +The spurt of annoyance had brought the Squire up to the point of +"tackling the situation." After all, it had to be talked out between +them, and it was useless to put off the moment and pretend that things +were as usual. + +"I suppose your mind is still made up?" he said, with his back to his +son. + +"Yes," replied Dick. "We needn't go over all that again." + +"I don't want to," said the Squire. "Only we had better have things +plain. I won't receive her, either before marriage or after." + +Dick put constraint on himself, but his face grew red. "If you are +going to talk like that," he said after a pause, "I had better not have +come." + +The Squire turned and faced him. The frown was still on his face, but +it was one of trouble. "Oh, my dear boy," he said, "I'm glad enough to +see you. I wish you had never gone away. I wish to God you'd drop it +all and come back, and let us be as we were before. But if you won't +change, I won't change, and if we're to be comfortable together these +few days, let's know at the beginning where we stand. That's all I +meant." + +"All right," said Dick rather ungraciously. "But I should like to know +how I stand in other matters as well. You've sent me messages. You're +going to make me pay pretty heavily for marrying the woman I've chosen. +I'm not complaining and I'm not asking you to change your mind. But I +think I've a right to know exactly where I stand." + +"Well, then, sit down," said the Squire, "and I'll tell you." + +They were confronted in a way neither of them had been prepared for. +Certainly Dick had not come home to ask for explanations, nor had his +father meant to open up the now closed dispute. Some underling in the +back regions, with his mouth full of bread and butter and tea and his +mind relaxed from his duties to his own insignificant enjoyments, was +responsible for what was now going to be said in his master's sanctum. +A match struck and put to the smoking-room fire would have altered the +course of affairs at Kencote, perhaps only for an hour or two, perhaps +for Dick's lifetime. Now, at any rate, there was to be a discussion +which would otherwise have been deferred, and for their own future +comfort neither the Squire nor Dick was in the most tractable mood for +discussion. + +"You know how the property stands and what goes with it?" the Squire +began. + +"Yes, I know all that," said Dick. "There's about eight thousand +acres, and a rent-roll in good times of perhaps a couple of thousand a +year. Then there are a couple of livings to present to, a house which +might be let with the shooting by a fellow who couldn't afford to live +in it for, let's say, a thousand a year. So I shall be fairly +comfortably off somewhere else as long as I do let, and I dare say +there won't be much difficulty about that. There are plenty of rich +manufacturers who would like to take a place like Kencote." + +Although his mind had been on other plans, and he had no sort of +intention of living anywhere but at Kencote after he should have +succeeded his father, still, in the background of his thoughts there +had lain great bitterness at this preposterous punishment that his +father was preparing for him; and the bitterness now showed plainly +enough in his speech. + +It aroused in the Squire a curious conflict of emotions. The picture +of a rich outsider settled in the house which had sheltered none but +Clintons for unnumbered years appalled him, and, if Dick had presented +it for his inspection without heat, must have turned him from his +purpose then and there; for that purpose had never been examined in its +ultimate bearings, and would not have been formed except with the view +of bending Dick to his will. But, already ruffled, he became more so +at Dick's tone, and his uneasiness at the fearful idea which had been +evolved, although it was rejected for the moment, translated itself +into anger. + +"You've no right to talk like that," he said hotly. "If you would come +to your senses you could be as well off living here as I am." + +"I know I could," said Dick more quietly, "if I were blackguard enough +to give up a woman for the sake of money. But there's no use at all in +talking about that. I'm quite prepared for what you are going to do, +and I haven't come here, as I told you, to ask you to change your mind. +It's your affair; only if you haven't looked what you're going to do in +the face yet, I'm interested enough to say that I think you ought to." + +"You'll have enough money," snapped the Squire, not at all mollified by +this speech, "to make it possible for you to live at Kencote--you'll +have much more than enough money, as I told you--if you give up this +marriage. You say you won't give it up. Very well, then, you can go +and live somewhere else and Humphrey can take your place here." + +Dick's astonished stare recalled him to his senses. He had spoken out +of his anger. He had never meant to go so far as this. But having +gone so far he went on to make his position good. + +"Now we won't beat about the bush any more," he said judicially. "As +far as I'm concerned--what I'm going to leave him, I mean--Humphrey +couldn't afford to live at Kencote. I'm not going to rob others to put +him in your place, although I tell you this, he's going to be put in +your place as soon as you get married, until my death. I dare say you +have heard he's going to be married himself, and it's a marriage I'm +pleased with. She won't bring him much money, I dare say, but that +will be put right in another quarter. He'll be well off from the +first, and I shouldn't wonder if he weren't better off still before +long. He'll live at the dower-house and work with me at the management +of the place, just as you have always done. And when you succeed, +you'll probably find him a richer man than you are." + +Dick rose from his chair. "Thank you," he said. "I know where I stand +now. And as there doesn't seem to be much more to stop here for, I'll +get back to London." + +It was the Squire's turn now to stare. "What do you mean?" he gasped. +"You're not going!" + +But Dick had already left the room. + +The Squire remained sitting forward in his chair looking into the fire. +His face, which had been red and hard, gradually changed its colour and +expression. He looked a tried and troubled old man. He had burnt his +boats now. He had allowed his anger to dictate words which he would +not have used in cold blood. He had insulted his son, as well as +injured him. Dick was going out of his father's house in anger, and he +would not return to it. As long as he lived he would not see him again. + +These thoughts were too much for him. His own anger had disappeared. +He could not let his son go away from him like that. He had not meant +what he had said--at least, he had not meant to say it in that way. He +rose quickly and went out of the room. + +When Dick had left him he had gone into the smoking-room, where the +belated fire was burning briskly, summoned his servant and ordered his +cart. His intention was to drive straight over to Bathgate and wait +there for a train to London. Virginia was not at Blaythorn, or he +would have gone there. He had told her that he was going down to +Kencote to make one last effort at reconciliation with his father, and +she had said that she would pay an overdue weekend visit at the same +time, so that he should not complicate matters by coming over to see +her from Kencote. "For I'm sure you won't be able to keep away if you +are so close to me," she had said, holding him by the lapels of his +coat and smiling up in his face. It had been an old engagement between +them that he should have spent this particular week-end with her at +Blaythorn, and he now wished heartily that he had not changed his +plans. "Kicked out of the house within ten minutes!" he said to +himself, standing in front of the fire, when he had given his orders. +He was consumed with anger against his father, and had an impulse to +get away from the house at once, to start on foot, and let his cart +catch him up. But it was raining hard, and there were a couple of +notes that he had to write for the evening post. He might as well +write them now, and he sat down at the table to do so. + +The door opened, and Mrs. Clinton came in. "Dick dear," she said in +her quiet voice, which hardly betokened the trouble that could be seen +in her face, "you are not going to leave us like this!" + +He turned in his seat and faced her. "I'm going in a few minutes," he +said, "and I'm not coming back again. It's good-bye this time, mother." + +"Oh, why can't you be a little patient with him?" she cried. "He +wanted so to see you here again. If he has said anything to offend you +he will be very sorry for it. Dick, don't go like this. It will be +the end of everything." + +He got up from the table and put his arm round her shoulder, leading +her up to the hearth. "You and I will see each other," he said kindly. +"It isn't the end of everything between us, mother. But with him, and +with Kencote, it is. There's no help for it. He's definitely against +me now. He's told me he's going to put Humphrey in my place--straight +out. I can't stand that, you know. If he's going to say things like +that--and do them--what's the good of my staying here?" + +"He can't mean it," she pleaded. "He is pleased with Humphrey now, but +he has always loved you best of all his sons. It isn't in his power to +put any one in your place." + +"I dare say he'll be sorry for having done it," he said, "but he's +going to do it, all the same. I can put up with the idea, mother, as +long as I'm not at Kencote, but it's a bit too much to stay here and +have that sort of thing said to you." + +He dropped his arm and turned round sharply, for the door had opened +again, and now it was his father who came into the room. + +"Dick," he said, shutting the door and coming forward, "I said too much +just now. For God's sake forget it!" + +There was a moment's pause. Then Dick said in a hard voice, "What am I +to forget?" + +The Squire looked at him with his troubled, perplexed frown. "Can't +you give it up, my boy?" he asked. + +Dick turned away with an impatient shrug of the shoulders. + +"God knows I don't want to make any changes," said his father. "It's +worse for me than it is for you, Dick. Humphrey won't be to me what +you have been. If you would only meet me half-way, I----" + +Dick turned suddenly. "Yes, I'll meet you half-way," he said. "It is +what I came here to say I would do, only you went so far beyond +everything that there was nothing left for me to say. If you are going +to set yourself to make Humphrey a richer man than I, as you +said--well, that is beyond anything I had thought of--that you should +be thinking of it in that way, I mean." + +"Dick, I've never thought of it in that way," said his father. "And +you must forget that I said it." + +Mrs. Clinton spoke. "You have heard of Humphrey's engagement," she +said. "Your father's idea is that he shall live here, at the +dower-house, and help him with the estate management." + +"That's it," said the Squire. "It was either that or getting a regular +agent in the place of Haydon. I can't do it all myself. But if you +would only come back, Dick----" + +"I can't do that," said Dick, "at least, not now. I'm tied. And I +can't object to your getting Humphrey in, if you think he'll take to +the job. It isn't that. And it isn't that I mind much your leaving +money to the others instead of to me--as long as you don't leave it all +to one of them." + +"I told you I wasn't going to do that," said the Squire. "I'd never +thought of it. What I said about Humphrey I said on the spur of the +moment, and I'm sorry for it." + +"Oh, all right," said Dick; "we needn't worry about that any more. Do +what you like for Humphrey. I've no wish to put a spoke in his wheel, +and I wish I thought he felt the same about putting one in mine. I'll +tell you what I told you at the beginning--I've more or less reconciled +myself to the change you're going to make. At any rate, I shan't +grumble at it. It'll only mean doing a bit more for myself instead of +looking to you for everything." + +The Squire did not like this. "You couldn't do much," he said, "to +make up for the loss of the unsettled property, if I left it away from +you." + +"I could do something," replied Dick, "and I'm going to." + +"Let us sit down," Mrs. Clinton said. "Dick, if you have anything to +tell us, if you are going to meet us half-way, as you say, let us hear." + +They sat down, and Dick considered for a moment, and then looked up at +his father. "Neither of us has given way an inch yet," he said. + +The Squire frowned. "There can be no giving way on the point of your +marriage," he said. + +Dick was about to reply, but Mrs. Clinton put her hand on his knee. +"Let him tell us what he has in his mind, Edward," she said. + +"I was going to say," said Dick, with a gulp, "that I am quite prepared +to give way on the question of the property. I wanted you to receive +Virginia, and to give me everything you were going to give me. I don't +ask that now. Do what you have said you would do. I shan't grouse +about it. I shan't let it make any difference between you and me. I +promise you that. That's where I'll give way." + +The Squire felt very uncomfortable. Conciliation was in the air, and +he was prepared to be conciliatory. But how was he to meet this? + +"What do you want me to do, then?" he asked, "short of----" + +Dick took him up. "I'm going to marry Virginia Dubec," he said +decisively. "That is settled, and you can't stop me. You haven't been +fair either to me or to her about it. You have never given her a +chance to prove to you, as she could prove, that she is as unlike the +woman you take her for as any woman on earth could be. And you have +gone to greater lengths in trying to stop me doing what I'm going to do +than I think you were justified in going." + +The Squire broke in on him. "Oh, if you're going to open up----" he +began; but Mrs. Clinton said, "Edward, let Dick finish what he has to +say"; and Dick went on quickly, "It's the last time I need mention all +that. I'm ready to forget it, every bit of it, and you'll never hear a +single word more about it, if--if----" + +The words that rose to his lips were, "If you'll undertake to behave +yourself from now onwards," but since he had to find other words to +express his meaning, and paused for a moment, the Squire put in, "Well, +if what? I'm waiting to hear." + +"You can't stop my marriage," said Dick. "The only thing you can do is +to recognise it now, unless you deliberately choose that this shall be +the last time we are to see one another." + +The Squire's frown of perplexity became a frown of displeasure. "If +those are your terms----" he began; but again Mrs. Clinton interrupted +him. + +"When Dick has been married some time," she said, "you will not want to +keep him at arm's length. You will make the best of it. It is +senseless for either you or him to talk of an estrangement that will +last a lifetime. Such a thing could not happen. There would be no +grounds for it. Edward, you have done what you could to prevent Dick +from following his will. Now you must accept his decision, and not go +on to make further unhappiness." + +He turned on her a reproachful eye. "What, you on his side, against +me!" he exclaimed. + +"As long as there was a chance of your having your way," she said, "I +would not act in any way against you. But now I say that I have seen +for myself, and I do not believe that you have anything to fear. Dick +has chosen for himself, and we ought now to respect his choice." + +Dick put out his hand and pressed his mother's. The Squire, faced with +decision, almost with authority, from a quarter in which he had +hitherto expected and obtained nothing but submission, showed neither +surprise nor resentment. He sat looking on to the ground, his frown of +displeasure now once again changed into a frown of perplexity. + +In a moment or two he looked up and spoke, but without indignation. +"You want me, now, after all I've said and done," he said, "to give in +altogether and receive this Lady George Dubec as my daughter-in-law?" + +"I think," said Mrs. Clinton, "that the time has come when you must." + +"Oh, for God's sake, let's have an end of it, father," said Dick. +"Give her a chance. It's all I ask of you. Let me bring her here. If +you haven't changed your mind after her visit--then both of us will +have done what we can for each other--and you need never see her again +as long as you live." + +The Squire sat without replying for a long time. Then he got up and +turned to leave the room. "Very well, Dick," he said, "you may bring +her here." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HUMPHREY COUNTS HIS CHICKENS + +Humphrey went from Kencote to Thatchover, where Lady Aldeburgh was for +the time being residing with her numerous family. This did not include +her husband, who preferred to play a Box and Cox game with her in +respect of his two houses; but on his way through London Humphrey +called on his prospective father-in-law to gain formal authorisation of +his suit. + +Lord Aldeburgh had fitted himself up a suite of bachelor chambers on +the top floor of his great house in Manchester Square, and had +installed a lift, which no one was allowed to use without his +permission, as its rumbling disturbed him in his chosen occupations. +The chief of these was the collection of portraits of people and +pictures of places, which he cut out of illustrated papers and +magazines and pasted into large albums, indexing them up very +thoroughly as he went on. He was also an ardent attender of plays and +concerts and a persistent but indifferent bridge-player. He had found +a club where the stakes were half a crown a hundred, and there was +always a rubber to be had in the afternoon. So in the winter, which he +spent mostly in London, his days were fully occupied. Early in the +year he went to the Riviera or to Egypt, and about the time that his +family came up to London for the season he installed himself at +Thatchover and enjoyed his garden. In the autumn he went abroad again +or travelled about England. He was not a rich man, but he was an +entirely happy and contented one. + +"His lordship is very busy this morning and I don't think he would like +to be disturbed," said the servant who opened the door. + +"Well, take up my name and say I won't keep him long," said Humphrey. +"I'll come up with you." + +"I don't think his lordship will see you, sir," said the man; but +Humphrey climbed the four flights of stairs after him and waited in the +hall of Lord Aldeburgh's self-contained flat until he was admitted to +the presence. + +Lord Aldeburgh was in what he called his work-room. It was a large +light room furnished chiefly with deal tables, each devoted to a +particular pursuit. One had paste-pots and scissors and knives and +rulers and a sheet of glass and a pile of papers and albums. Another +was for the making of jig-saw puzzles, a third for their elucidation, a +fourth was for typewriting; and there was a reduplicating apparatus, +and another table with materials for illuminating. The walls were +covered with rubbings of monumental brasses, all ingeniously overlaid +with colour and gilding. Lord Aldeburgh had hundreds more of these +rubbings rolled up and put away in labelled drawers, and hoped before +he died to have acquired one of every brass in England. + +He was standing by his scissors-and-paste table when Humphrey went in, +and there was a slight frown of annoyance on his otherwise amiable +face. He was a big man, clean-shaven except for the rudiments of a +pair of whiskers, and looked like an intelligent family solicitor, +preoccupied with affairs of moment. His appearance had sometimes +caused him to be taken for a serious politician and had caused him some +annoyance. "I'm all for the constitution and that sort of thing," he +was accustomed to say, "and my vote's safe enough when it's wanted. +But I will _not_ take the chair at political meetings. It interferes +with my work. Besides, if they interrupt I don't know what to say." +He had on a voluminous apron with bib and pockets over his tweed suit, +which rather detracted from his habitual air of weight; but paste was +sticky, and Lord Aldeburgh was careful of his clothes, which it was his +custom to wear until they were hardly worth passing on to his valet. + +"Always pleased to see you," he said, shaking hands, his habitual +courtesy struggling with his annoyance at being disturbed. "But if you +hadn't come straight up I should have asked you to call again +to-morrow. Friday is a very busy day with me. I have all these papers +to get through, and there are so many of them now that if I don't clear +them up at once the next week's are on me before I know where I am." + +"I'm sorry," said Humphrey, looking with interest at the pile of +cut-out pictures on the table and the pile of disjointed papers on the +floor. "But I'm going down to Thatchover this afternoon and I had to +see you first." + +"Oh, you're going down to Thatchover!" repeated Lord Aldeburgh. "I +wish I could get down. There's a good deal of replanting being done, +and my gardener is such a fool that if I'm not on the spot something's +bound to go wrong, though I type him out the most detailed +instructions. But I really can't get away at present. I'll tell you +what you might do. Just see whether he's put glass over the Androsaces +and things in the rock-garden, will you? My wife's no good at that +sort of thing; she don't care about it. I don't believe she knows the +difference between a saxifrage and a sedum; and you can't trust to +servants. If you'll do that, like a good fellow, I shall be very much +obliged to you." + +"Certainly I will," said Humphrey, taking out his pocketbook. "Better +give me the name of the things." + +"I'll type out a list from my garden book and send it down to you," +said Lord Aldeburgh. "They're all properly labelled, and if you'll +just go through them---- Thanks very much; you've relieved me of an +anxiety. I very nearly threw everything up to go down for a day. But +I'm glad I didn't now. Well, if you don't mind I'll get on with my +work now that's settled." + +He held out his hand with an engaging smile, but Humphrey said, "I +haven't told you what I came about yet. I want to marry Susan. She's +game, and Lady Aldeburgh doesn't object. But I wanted to know what you +thought about it before we went ahead." + +A frown of perplexity showed itself on Lord Aldeburgh's face. "Marry +Susan!" he repeated. "Well, I don't see any objection, if you think +she's old enough. But----" + +"She's twenty-four," interpolated Humphrey. + +"Twenty-four! Is she really? Well, it shows what I've always said, +that time flies quicker than you think it does. Twenty-four! My +goodness! Well, then, of course she's old enough, and I rather wonder +my wife hasn't seen to it before. And what I was going to say was that +my wife looks after all that sort of thing, and I'm much too busy a man +to be worried about details. If I give my consent, which you're quite +right in coming to ask for, I hope I shan't have any more bother about +it. That's all I meant." + +"I don't see why you should be bothered," said Humphrey. "There'll be +questions of settlements, I suppose. But the lawyers will fix up all +that." + +"Oh, my goodness, yes!" said Lord Aldeburgh. "Thank heaven all that +sort of thing was fixed up when I was married myself. I don't want +ever to go through it again. It was sign, sign, sign from morning to +night. I've forgotten what the girls were to have when they married, +but I know it wasn't much, and I'm not in a position to increase it. +The rock-garden cost me an infernal lot of money last year, and I'm +going to enlarge it. I suppose you don't know where I can get good +blocks of limestone fairly cheap, do you? I don't care much about the +sandstone I've got. At least, I don't want any more of it." + +"No, I don't know," said Humphrey. "You had better give me the name of +your solicitors, and we can get on to them. I suppose I can settle all +the other points with Lady Aldeburgh." + +"Oh, my goodness, yes!" said Lord Aldeburgh. "I'm much too busy to +attend to it. Look here, I'll show you an interesting thing. It just +proves what we were talking about just now, how time flies. You see +this picture of Miss Enid Brown, of Laurel Lodge, Reigate, who is going +to marry this fellow, Mr. Bertie Pearson, of the Cromwell Road?" + +"Yes, I see," said Humphrey. "I don't particularly envy Mr. Bertie +Pearson." + +"Oh, I think she's a very nice-looking girl," said Lord Aldeburgh. +"But that isn't the point. Now twenty-two years ago, when I first +began to make my collection, one of the first photographs I got was of +a Mr. Horace Brown, of Petersfield House, Reigate, who married--here he +is--I was just looking it up when you came in--see?--Miss Mary Carter, +of Croydon--turn to the C book for her--it's all carefully +cross-indexed--here she is. Now you've only got to compare these two +faces--Miss Enid Brown and Mrs. Horace Brown--Miss Carter that +was--taking Reigate into consideration--to make it quite plain that +they are mother and daughter. You see it at once, don't you?" + +"Yes," said Humphrey. "Same silly sort of simper." + +"Oh, well, I don't know about that. But that isn't the point. The +point is that this particular work of mine, which I just took up +five-and-twenty years or so ago to amuse myself with, is developing +into something that will be of the greatest importance to the nation by +and by. When I die I've a jolly good mind to leave it to the British +Museum; or if I could get some fellow to leave some money and have it +carried on--why, there's no telling what it wouldn't come to. Here +you're beginning to have an illustrated register of every single soul +in the country that amounts to anything. If you're good enough to have +your portrait in some paper you're good enough to go down to posterity +in my collection. I tell you, it's monumental. Already I've got +thousands and thousands of portraits--not only of people like ourselves +that you can look up in a book, but of thousands of others--quite +respectable people--and at all stages. Why, if I were to begin to +publish the whole thing in parts I should make a fortune, and I've a +jolly good mind to see some publisher and get it done. There isn't a +soul whose name was represented who wouldn't buy it. I can tell you +it's turning into a jolly big thing." + +"Well, it is rather interesting," said Humphrey. "What have you got +about the Clintons?" + +"Oh, of course, I've got a separate book about the Clintons. Like to +see it? You'll find some pictures of your little lot there." + +"Well, if I may, some other time," said Humphrey. "My train goes in +half an hour, and I must be getting off. Then you've no objection to +my urging my suit? I believe that's the correct expression." + +"Not a bit in the world, my dear fellow," replied Lord Aldeburgh. "I'm +not much of a family man. I'm too busy. But from what I've seen of +her I should say Susan would make you a good wife, and I'm sure you'll +make her a good husband. So I wish you every sort of good luck. And +now I must get to work again." + +So, blessed with Lord Aldeburgh's approval, Humphrey went down to +Thatchover, and found a party of considerable size assembled there, all +bent on extracting as much amusement as possible out of the passing +hours. + +He arrived at dusk and found the family and its guests assembled in the +big hall of the house. The men had been shooting, the women playing +bridge, for the weather was too raw for them to care about leaving the +warmth of the house. Humphrey received a somewhat vociferous welcome, +for there was no one in the house with whom he was not on terms of +intimacy, and felt cheered by the warmth of social intercourse into +which he was plunged. "This really is rather jolly," he said to Susan +Clinton, with whom he found himself presently sitting a little apart +from the noisy central group. "I don't know that I ever want anything +better than a big house in the country and to have it filled with jolly +people." + +"I shouldn't like to live in the country all the year round," said +Susan. "You'd soon get out of touch." + +"Oh, lor', yes," said Humphrey. "I didn't mean that. Look at my +people at Kencote. It's jolly enough there every now and then in the +winter when there's something to do, although it isn't exactly gay. +But to settle down there year in and year out for ever--I'd just as +soon emigrate. And that's what I want to talk to you about. Things +are going all right for us. We shall have enough to get along on. I +tell you, I'm in high favour. But the idea is that we shall set up in +the dower-house, and----" + +"Oh, but that will be delightful!" Susan interrupted him. "With all +those jolly old things! And the presents we shall have! Humphrey, how +ripping! And there's plenty of room to have people there. If we can +afford to do things well----" + +"Yes, that'll be all right," said Humphrey. "But the idea is that we +shall cut all the rest. I'm to give up my job, which I don't care +about either one way or the other, except that it keeps me about where +I want to be, and I'm to be sort of head bailiff. That's the scheme, +as it's shaping itself out. Question is whether it's good enough." + +"Do you mean we shouldn't be allowed to go to London at all?" + +"Oh, allowed! We could go up for a day or two now and again--though if +I know my respected parent there would be black looks even at that, if +we did it too often--but as for anything more than that---- No, it's +meant and it's intended to mean that I join the governor in business. +He's really, if you look at it properly, a farmer in a big way, and +he's not very good at it, though he thinks he is. It's where I come in +over Dick that he must have somebody to help him out of the muddles he +makes, and that will be a pretty stiff job, and there won't be much +running away from it." + +"Then you mean we can't even pay visits?" + +"Precious few of 'em. We shall be expected to stay at home and lead +the domestic life. Are we cut out for it, Susan?" + +She smiled at him, and slipped her hand into his. "I shan't mind very +much, Humphrey," she said. + +Humphrey returned her pressure. "Good girl!" he said. "I don't know +that I shall either for a few years. But we'd better look it all in +the face. We shall feel cut off, there's no doubt of it. But there's +this to be said, it won't last for ever. If we're submissive +now--well, in the long run we shall come off all right. Question is, +can you make up your mind to stand it for as long as may be necessary?' + +"I can if you can," said Susan. + +"Oh, I shall be better off than you. I'm afraid there's no doubt +you'll be dull at times. We'll have our own friends to stay with us, +but there won't be much going on at home to enliven us. It isn't like +other big houses in the country. Still, there are the kids. They're +growing up, and they're pretty bright. You ought to get some fun out +of them, and it'll be a godsend to them to have somebody like you about +the place." + +"I'm not certain that they care for me much," said Susan; "and I'm a +little afraid of them. In fact, I'm rather afraid of all your family, +Humphrey. Do you think Mrs. Clinton likes me?" + +"Oh, of course she does," said Humphrey. "You'll get on well with the +whole bunch of them. And as for the governor, you've only got to +flatter him a bit and avoid treading on his corns, and you can live in +his pocket--if you want to. I say, Susan, excuse my asking, but is +your own papa all there?" + +Susan laughed. "He has never grown up. That's all," she said. "But +his tastes are harmless enough. Think what it would be if he had a +taste for running after--well--er--you know--like Clinton. He doesn't +really spend much money. There are worse fathers." + +Humphrey digested this point of view. "Well, I think I would rather +have mine," he said, "tiresome as he can be, and is, sometimes. Anyhow +he's going to do the right thing by us. I needn't go into details, but +you'll be able to have some pretty frocks, old girl; and you may find +yourself in a big house before you've done, yet." + +Their conversation was interrupted by the breaking up of the tea-party +and the setting up of the bridge tables. Bridge was the serious +pursuit at Thatchover, and it was only, so to speak, at off times that +the household indulged in their tastes for romps. There was never any +paltering with the valuable hours between five o'clock and eight +o'clock in the evening, and there were few of the present party who +showed any inclination to shirk their duty, even to the extent of +sitting out a rubber. But as the total number of players was divisible +by two, but not by four, two of them were obliged to sit out, and Lady +Aldeburgh suggested to Humphrey that he and she should have a little +talk and cut in later. "I hate doing it," she said, "because there's a +certain sense of satisfaction in sitting down to begin, which you miss +if you wait till everything is in full swing. Still, it would look +well for me to appear self-sacrificing, and if you don't mind we'll get +our little chat over now, for I'm dying to hear what you've managed to +fix up." + +Humphrey, sitting with her in a corner by the fire away from the green +tables, put her in possession of the state of affairs. "There'll be at +least fifteen hundred a year, and probably more," he concluded, "and +that ought to make it good enough." + +"If that were all, it wouldn't be good enough," said Lady Aldeburgh +decisively. "You and Susan couldn't live on fifteen hundred a year or +anything like it. I shouldn't consider it for a moment." + +"Oh yes, you would," said Humphrey calmly. "Still, it isn't all. +We're to have a house, for one thing--a house more than half furnished, +and there'll be all sorts of perquisites. I'm to go in for the land +agency business; and by and by, if I behave myself, as I mean to, and +Susan behaves herself, as _she_ means to do, we shall be very well off." + +"What on earth are you talking about?" enquired Lady Aldeburgh, +thoroughly bewildered. "The land agency business----' + +"We are to live at the dower-house at Kencote," said Humphrey. "I +don't think you saw it, but it's a topping little house. And I'm to +help the governor look after things. That's the scheme." + +"My _dear_ Humphrey! What absolute nonsense!" exclaimed Lady +Aldeburgh. "You and Susan burying yourselves in the country! Why, +you'd be bored stiff in a week, and you'd get sick to death of one +another in a month. You can't seriously consider such a ridiculous +scheme." + +"Why ridiculous?" enquired Humphrey. "We're in the country at this +moment, and we're not bored stiff--far from it." + +"That's entirely different, a big house, with crowds of people whenever +you want them--and in winter, when there's something for the men to do. +To settle down for good! and at a place like Kencote! Well, I don't +want to be rude to your people, but I ask you, are they alive or dead?" + +Humphrey flushed. "My people are all right," he said, keeping his +voice level. "And Susan will get on with them. You needn't worry +yourself about that side of the question." + +"I can't help it if you are angry with me," said Lady Aldeburgh, with a +slight recurrence to her infantile manner. "I say what I think, and +although I have the greatest possible respect for your people, it would +drive me crazy to live in the way they do. And I'm not going to let +Susan be killed and buried and made miserable for life." + +"All right," said Humphrey. "Then I'd better pack up and clear off." + +"Oh, don't be silly. If you can screw a couple of thousand a year out +of your father, with the little bit that Susan will have, which will +pay for her frocks, you could take a nice little flat and be fairly +comfortable. I shouldn't mind your waiting for the rest to come later." + +"If I do that, the rest won't come later; it won't come at all. Dick +has kicked over the traces, and I'm to take his place--to a certain +extent. I don't want to think too much about all that, but you force +me to say it. You understand the situation well enough if you'd give +your mind to it. I don't want to bury myself in the country all the +year round any more than you would; but, hang it! isn't it worth making +some sacrifice for a time? Besides, it's such nonsense to talk as if +living in the country, and living comfortably too, within three hours +of London, were the same thing as going off to Siberia or somewhere. +Anyhow, we're going to live at Kencote. I'm game and Susan's game. We +don't ask you to come and live with us." + +"Now you're positively insulting," said Lady Aldeburgh, entirely +recovering her good-humour, for this was the way she liked to be +treated by good-looking young men. It implied that she appeared as +young as she felt. "Of course if you have made up your mind to hoe +turnips for the rest of your life, you naturally wouldn't expect me to +come and hoe them with you, and I shouldn't come if you did. The +question is, will Susan be happy hoeing turnips? That's what I have to +look at." + +"I dare say you will be pleased to do an occasional week-end's hoeing," +replied Humphrey. "And as for Susan, I've already told you she's ready +to hoe as long as is necessary. Please don't upset her about it. We +are going to eat our bread and butter quite contentedly for a few +years, and we shall get the jam by and by. If you put your oar in and +try and upset things, we shan't get nearly so much bread and butter, +and we shall miss the jam altogether. After all, it's a question for +us to decide; and we've already decided. We're going to be a good +little boy and girl, and if all goes well, by and by we shall be little +county magnates. I believe that's the proper expression." + +"What is your father going to do?" asked Lady Aldeburgh. "Let's put it +quite plainly, as we are talking confidentially. Is he going to make +an eldest son of you? Is Dick finally out of the way? I know he's +going to marry Virginia Dubec in spite of everything. Does your father +still refuse to see him--or to see her, which is more to the point, for +I'm not a cat like some women, and I'll say this, that I believe if he +were to see her she would get round him; for she's a beautiful creature +and could turn any man round her little finger if she cared to try." + +"She won't have a chance of trying with him," replied Humphrey. "You +may make your mind easy as to that. As for Dick, I suppose he's seeing +him at this moment. He was going down to Kencote this afternoon." + +"What! Oh, then they've made it up?" + +"No, they haven't. Neither side budges. Dick is going to marry +Virginia, as you say, and Dick's father has sworn to leave all he can +away from him if he does. Both of them will keep their word, for +they're both as obstinate as the devil. But they are going to patch up +a sort of peace, and I'm not altogether sorry. Dick hasn't behaved +particularly well to me, and I should be a humbug if I pretended that I +wanted him to get back what's now coming my way. But I don't want him +to feel left out in the cold altogether." + +"How very sweet and forgiving! Are you sure that he won't persuade +your father to change his mind?" + +"He won't try." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Because I know Dick." + +"I suppose you wired to say you were coming down here because you +didn't want to meet him?" + +"I suppose I did. We might have had a row. I haven't done anything to +persuade the governor to alter his will, as he's going to do, but it's +going to be altered in my favour, and Dick might not feel inclined to +do me justice over the matter. I don't want a row with him. We've +been fairly good pals so far, and I don't want to be open enemies with +him. Besides, Kencote will belong to him some day, and----" + +"Well, when it does you won't be there any longer." + +"Yes, I shall. I'm to have Partisham--that's pretty well settled. +There would be an explosion of wrath and surprise if I intimated that I +knew that and was counting on it; but you can see the governor's brain +working all the time. He lets everything out, and he's let out that. +It's only a question of one farm at present. I may get it with the +rest, or it may go to Walter, for there's an old manor-house on it, and +he thinks it would do for Walter to do up and live in when he gets +tired of doctoring. He can't quite make up his mind, but it's only a +hundred and fifty acres out of about two thousand, and it doesn't much +matter one way or the other." + +"Well, you seem pretty sure about it. I hope you may not be making a +mistake. If I were Dick I should certainly have a try at getting back +what he's lost. Where is this place you're going to have?" + +"The house is about four miles from Kencote, and the property adjoins. +My great-grandfather bought it with money his brother left him, and +some of it is good building land on the outskirts of Bathgate. I've +never been inside the house; it's let to a doctor and used as a private +lunatic asylum." + +"That's pleasant!" + +"It's a fine house, and the property is rising in value every year. I +shall be a richer man than Dick before I've done." + +"How mercenary you are! Well, I suppose it's all right, as you say so, +and I must give my consent. Oh, look, there's a table up. Come on! I +feel as if I'm going to win stacks." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +VIRGINIA GOES TO KENCOTE + +"My dear Lady George Dubec" [wrote Mrs. Clinton], "My husband and I +will be glad if you will come to us here when you return to Meadshire, +which Dick tells me will be next Wednesday. We shall be pleased to +welcome you at Kencote and to make your acquaintance. We shall be +pleased also to see Miss Dexter, and perhaps you will kindly tell her +so, and let me know if she will accompany you. + +"With kindest regards to yourself and to her, + + "Believe me, + "Very sincerely yours, + "NINA CLINTON." + + +"There!" said Virginia, tossing this missive over to her companion. +She had opened Dick's much longer letter, which had come by the same +post, first of all, and half-way through its perusal had searched for +Mrs. Clinton's amongst the rest. Now she returned to Dick's, while +Miss Dexter read Mrs. Clinton's. + +"What on earth does it all mean?" asked Miss Dexter. "Has the world +come to an end, or has that preposterous old bear come to his senses at +last?" + +"It means, my dear Toby," said Virginia, looking up at her with a happy +smile, "that all this horrible business is at an end. Dick has fought, +and Dick has won. And we owe everything to the help that his dearest +of dear mothers has given us. I knew I should love that woman from the +first time I set eyes on her, and now I adore her. Three cheers for +Mrs. Clinton." + +She waved Dick's letter over her head. Miss Dexter looked down again +at Mrs. Clinton's, and then again in dry surprise at her friend. "And +do you really mean to tell me," she asked, "that you are satisfied with +_this_ as an atonement for everything they have made you go through? I +never read such a letter--as cold and unwilling as she is herself. +I'll tell you what will happen, Virginia, if you go to Kencote. You +will simply be insulted. Do you think people like that can change? +Not a bit of it. 'Kindest regards,' indeed! She may keep her kindest +regards to herself as far as I'm concerned." + +"Oh, Toby, don't be so tiresome!" Virginia adjured her. "You know +you're just as pleased as I am--or very nearly. Shall we go straight +to Kencote from London, or go to Bathgate and leave some things at +Blaythorn and pick up some others? I think we'll do that. I must take +my smartest frocks, and so must you. For you are really quite +presentable if you would only give yourself a chance." + +"You may leave me out of it," said Miss Dexter. "I'm as likely to go +to Kencote as I am to Windsor Castle. If _you_ like to put your head +into the bear's den and say 'Thank you for having tried to eat me up, +and now by all means finish me off,' you can. I have a little more +self-respect, and nothing would induce me to go near those people." + +"Ah!" said Virginia, "you are still huffy because Mrs. Clinton snubbed +you. Quite right of her! You are a dear, loyal, faithful creature, +and I know you would follow me to much more terrible places than +Kencote, where you will find yourself in a week's time; but you had no +business to go interfering without consulting me about it. I'm too +fond of you to snub you, as you so often deserve, so I'm quite pleased +when other people do it for me." + +"Yes, that's all I get for trying to help you," said Miss Dexter. +"What do you suppose has happened? Has Captain Dick told them that you +have money? That's the only thing I can think of that would make that +purse-proud old lunatic change his mind." + +"He doesn't say anything about that, and I'm sure he hasn't told them. +_I_ shall tell Mr. Clinton, and it will make him love me even more than +I'm going to make him as it is. I know I'm talking nonsense, but in +the state of mind I find myself in at present that can't be helped. +No, Toby dear, it is Mrs. Clinton who has done it all. My Dick says +so. She was always on our side. She liked the look of me, Toby, odd +as it may seem to you; and if she could have got round the old bear's +prejudices--but I mustn't call him that any longer--she would have done +so before. I knew I was right about her. It was the only thing I +didn't _quite_ like about Dick--that he seemed always to think she was +of no account. Now he has come round, and my cup of happiness is +brimming over. Oh, Toby, I've never been so happy in my life before." +She put her handkerchief to her eyes, but she smiled gaily through her +tears. + +"Quite so," returned Miss Dexter, unmoved by this show of emotion. +"You're all for the moment. Next week, when you are alone amongst them +all, and they show you what they really think of you, you will never +have been so miserable in your life. People like that don't change. +They haven't got it in them. And you are laying up a most +uncomfortable time for yourself. I give you solemn warning. I know +what I'm talking about. I'm not carried away by sentiment as you are. +Don't go, Virginia. Don't make yourself cheap." + +"My dear," said Virginia in gentle seriousness, "if I were really +making myself cheap by going to Kencote, I would go, if Dick asked me +to. I can never be cheap to him. He'll be there, and nothing that can +happen will touch me. But nothing will happen--nothing disagreeable. +Why should you think so?" + +Miss Dexter threw out her hands. "Oh, when you talk like that!" she +said. "Well, go, my dear, and good luck go with you." + +"_You_ are my good luck, and you will go with me," said Virginia. +"Now, Toby darling, don't say no. You have done so much for me. +Surely you can do this." + +"I suppose I can," said Miss Dexter after a short pause. "But if Mrs. +Clinton thinks I'm going to fall into her arms after her treatment of +me, she'll find herself mistaken. And if the worst comes to the worst +I can tell Mr. Clinton what I think of him. I should like an +opportunity of doing that. Yes, I'll come, Virginia." + +They went straight to Kencote from London, the state of Virginia's +travelling wardrobe having been decided to be capable of answering all +necessary calls on it, and Miss Dexter having declared that if she +appeared as a dowdy, she would find others to keep her company at +Kencote in spite of the airs they gave themselves. + +At the railway terminus Humphrey Clinton came up to them. "Hulloa!" he +said in the somewhat off-hand manner he adopted towards most ladies of +his acquaintance. "Going back to Blaythorn?" + +"No," said Virginia. "We are going to Kencote. So are you, I suppose? +We will travel down together, and you shall smoke to me." + +Miss Dexter's sharp eyes were upon him, and she saw him flinch, +although Virginia did not. It was the merest twitch of a muscle, and +he had recovered himself instantly. "That's first class," he said. +"And this seems to be First Class too. Shall we get in here?" + +"That nice-looking porter with the grey beard has found us a carriage," +said Virginia. "If we all three spread ourselves over it nobody will +come in, and you can smoke when once the train has started." + +"You had better sit at the other end of the carriage, then," said +Humphrey, "and pull your veil down, or else _everybody_ will want to +come in." + +"Now, Toby, don't you call that a perfectly lovely speech?" asked +Virginia. + +Miss Dexter emitted a sound indicative of scorn, but made no verbal +reply, and they walked down the platform. A lady with spectacles, an +unbecoming felt hat and a short skirt, was coming towards them, and as +they approached one another she and Miss Dexter exclaimed, +simultaneously, and then shook hands with expressions of pleasure. +Miss Dexter then introduced the lady with the spectacles to Virginia, +as an old schoolfellow, Janet Phipp, whom she had not met for years and +years, and who had not changed in the least in the meantime, and asked +her where she was going. + +"I am going to a place called Kencote," said Miss Phipp; "as +governess," she added uncompromisingly, with an eye on Virginia's fur +and feathers and Humphrey's general air of opulence. + +"Oh, but that's where we are all going!" cried Virginia. "How jolly! +And this is Mr. Humphrey Clinton, the brother of your pupils." + +Humphrey shook hands with Miss Phipp. "You'll find them a rare +handful," he said. + +"That won't worry me in the least," said Miss Phipp. + +"We'll all travel down together," said Virginia, "and you shall be told +all about the twins. I've never met them, and I'm dying to." + +"I'm going second class," said Miss Phipp, and Miss Dexter said, "I'll +go with you. Virginia, I shall just have time to change my ticket." +She dashed off to the booking-office. + +"That's so like Toby," said Virginia. "Always impulsive. She might +have thought of changing Miss Phipp's ticket. What was she like at +school, the dear thing?" + +"Excellent at mathematics," replied Miss Phipp. "Languages weak, as +far as I remember." + +The train slipped off on its two hours' non-stop run, with Virginia and +Humphrey in one carriage and Miss Dexter and Miss Phipp in another. +The two ladies had much to say to one another as to the course of their +respective lives since they had last met. Miss Phipp's career had been +one of arduous work, punctuated by continental trips and an occasional +period of bad health. "I suppose I have worked too hard," she said. +"The doctors all say so, although I can't say I've ever been aware of +it while I've actually been working. If I can't work I'd just as soon +not live, and I've always had just the work that suited me. It's a +blow to have to give it up. If it hadn't been for my health I should +have been head-mistress of a big school long ago, and I'd have shown +them what women's education could be. Now I've got to settle down to +take two girls instead of two hundred, and I suppose if I try to teach +them anything I shall be thwarted at every turn. Girls ought to be +sent to school. I've no opinion of home education, and these two don't +seem to have been taught anything. I'm low about it, Margaret. Still, +I've got to do it, for a bit anyhow, and if they've got any brains I'll +knock something into them, if I'm allowed to. However, we needn't +worry ourselves about all that now. What have you been doing? Leading +a life of luxury and gaiety, I suppose." + +The smile with which she asked her question was affectionate. She had +been a big girl at the school when Margaret Dexter had been a little +one, and had mothered her. Margaret Dexter's father had been a +consulting physician with a large practice. She had lived in different +surroundings from most of her school-fellows. + +"I've always had rather more luxury than I cared about," replied Miss +Dexter. "As for gaiety, I don't care about that at all. I'm not cut +out for it." + +Her companion regarded her with more attention than she had yet +bestowed. "You have grown to look very sensible," she said. + +"Thanks," replied Miss Dexter. "That means that my appearance is not +prepossessing. I've always known that, and it doesn't bother me a bit." + +Miss Phipp laughed. "It is all coming back to me," she said. "At +first, except that your face is much the same, I should hardly have +recognised you for the little girl I used to be so fond of. But you +haven't altered, Margaret. You are just as direct as ever. I believe +I first taught you to be direct." + +"If you did, you had easy ground to work on," replied Miss Dexter. + +"I suppose I had. But aren't you doing anything, Margaret? You're not +just spending your life like other rich people--going about and amusing +yourself? You weren't like that as a child." + +"I'm not rich," returned Miss Dexter. "My father died too young to +make a lot of money. And as for doing something, I'm companion to Lady +George Dubec." + +Miss Phipp was visibly taken aback. "Oh!" she exclaimed; and after a +pause said, "I'm sorry. Still, if you're obliged to earn your living, +I should have thought you might have done something more useful than +going out as a companion to a lady of fashion." + +Miss Dexter coloured and then laughed. "It's all coming back to me +too," she said. "That's what you used to call talking straight, and we +used to call Janet's manners. If it is any comfort to you to know it, +I don't have to earn my own living--I only said I wasn't rich. I live +with Virginia Dubec because I love her, and I share some of the +expenses. I'll tell you how much I pay if you like." + +"Oh, don't be silly," said Miss Phipp. "You said you were her +companion, and I took that to mean what anybody would. Then you're +_not_ doing anything, and I'm sorry for it. However, we needn't +quarrel about that. What are these people like I'm going to? I've +seen Mrs. Clinton, and on the whole I like her." + +"Well, I don't," said Miss Dexter, "and if I weren't such a fool as to +follow Virginia about wherever she wants to go to, as if she were a +baby, I shouldn't go within a mile of Mrs. Clinton. I don't mind +telling you, as you're bound to find out for yourself directly you get +to Kencote, that Virginia is going to marry Captain Clinton, the eldest +son, and the whole family have hitherto turned up their stupid noses at +her. Now he seems to have persuaded them to inspect her and see +whether she'll do, after all. She's worth a hundred of the whole lot +of them put together, except, perhaps, Captain Clinton himself, who has +behaved fairly well. No, I'll do him justice--he's behaved quite well. +He's all right. But Mrs. Clinton--well, you say you like her, but +you'll see; as for Mr. Clinton, he's the most odious, purse-proud, +blood-proud, ignorant old pig you'll find anywhere." + +"H'm!'" commented Miss Phipp drily. "Seems a nice sort of family I'm +going to. What's that youth travelling with your Lady Virginia, or +whatever her name is--what's _he_ like?" + +"What he looks like," replied Miss Dexter shortly. + +"And the girls I'm going to teach?"' + +"I don't know them, and don't want to." + +"But you will, if you're going to stay in the house. And you must have +heard about them." + +"Well, I believe they're rather fun," admitted Miss Dexter grudgingly. +"And they're reported to be clever. Still, they've been boxed up at +home all their lives, and can't know much. I expect you'll have your +work cut out." + +"They'll have their work cut out," returned Miss Phipp grimly, "and +they'll have to do it too. I do hate having to go out as a governess, +Margaret." + +Miss Dexter glanced at her friend, who was so plain as to be almost +unfeminine, and looked jaded and unwell besides; she had her eyes fixed +on the suburban landscape now flying past at sixty miles an hour, and +something in her aspect caused Miss Dexter's heart to contract. "Poor +old Janet," she said, "I don't suppose it will be as bad as you expect. +I'm a brute to be trying to put you against them. You won't see much +of Mr. Clinton, and he probably won't bother you when you do. As for +Mrs. Clinton, if you want the truth, she once gave me a snub, and I +feel catty about her; so you needn't take any notice of what I say. +The children are real characters, with any amount of brains, and you'll +have a great opportunity with them if you can keep them in order." + +Miss Phipp brightened up. "Ah, that's better hearing," she said. "As +for keeping them in order, after a class of thirty High School girls, +that's child's play." + +"Well, I don't want to paint _too_ bright a picture," said Miss Dexter, +"and from what I've heard of them I don't think that it will be quite +that." + +In the meantime Virginia and Humphrey were getting on very well in +their more luxurious compartment. Humphrey had expressed his pleasure +at the opening up of the home of his fathers to his brother's expectant +bride, and in such a fashion that Virginia had warmed to him and told +him exactly how things stood. + +"You see, I'm going on what the shops call 'appro,'" she said. "If +they don't like me they can turn me out again." + +"And if they _do_ like you," said Humphrey, "which, of course, they +will----" + +"Then all will be well," concluded Virginia. + +He looked out of the window before he asked, carelessly, "I suppose +Dick's there?" + +"Of course Dick's there," said Virginia. "You don't suppose I should +venture into the lion's den without my Dick to support me, do you? +Dear old Dick! I'm glad he's made it up with your father." + +"So am I," said Humphrey, after the minutest pause. "Family quarrels +are the devil and all. And there was no sense in this one. I suppose +he's chucked the idea of Yorkshire, and he's returned to the bosom of +the fold." + +"Oh, good gracious, no!" said Virginia. "At least he hasn't said so. +Why should he, anyway? I guess we shall want all the dollars we can +grab at. A wife's an expensive luxury, you know, Mr. Humphrey." + +"Especially a wife like you," returned Humphrey genially. "Still, I +shouldn't be surprised if you find Yorkshire 'off' when you get to +Kencote. If the governor has come round about you, he'll probably come +round about--about other things." + +"You mean money?" said Virginia. "We're not bothering ourselves about +that." + +"_You're_ not, perhaps." + +"You mean that Dick is? I don't know anything about it, and I don't +care. That's not what I'm going to Kencote for. Why do men always +think such a lot about money, I wonder?" + +"Ah, I wonder," said Humphrey. + +The four travellers joined up at Bathgate, where they had to change, +and travelled to Kencote together in a second-class carriage, on +Virginia's decision, which Humphrey accepted with some distaste, but +did not combat. + +Dick and the twins were on the platform at Kencote. The twins were +inveterate train-meeters, whenever they were allowed to be, and Dick +had brought them this evening with the idea of packing them and Miss +Dexter and Miss Phipp into one carriage and accompanying Virginia in +the other. But Humphrey had not been expected, and the greeting +between the brothers was not particularly cordial. However, he grasped +the situation when he saw a landau and a brougham in waiting outside +instead of the station omnibus, which he had expected to see, and +solved it by announcing his intention of walking. + +"We would come with you, darling," said Joan in an aside, "but we must +see it out with our image. What's she like, Humphrey?" + +"Oh, most lovable--as you can see," replied Humphrey, disengaging his +arm and setting out into the darkness. + +When the carriage into which the twins had packed themselves with Miss +Phipp and Miss Dexter had rolled off in the wake of the other, Miss +Phipp said, "Well, girls, I hope we shall get on well together. You're +not afraid of hard work, I suppose?" + +"Oh no," replied Joan readily; "we're looking forward to it immensely." + +"You will find our diligence one of our best points," said Nancy. "If +at first we don't succeed we always try, try, try again." + +There was a moment's silence, except for the sharp trot of the horse's +hoofs and the wheels rolling on the frosty road. Then Miss Dexter +laughed suddenly. "There, you're answered," she said to Miss Phipp. +"Let's put them through an examination. What do you know of +mathematics?" + +"Don't be foolish, Margaret," said Miss Phipp sharply. "They must not +begin by making fun of their lessons." + +"Oh, but we shouldn't think of doing that," said Joan. + +"They're far too serious, and we have been taught not to make fun of +serious things," said Nancy. + +Miss Dexter laughed again. "What do you know of mathematics?" she +asked. + +"Nancy is not good at them," replied Joan. "She got as far as the +asses' bridge in Euclid, with the starling, our last governess, and +then she struck, as you might expect. Her strong point is literature. +She writes poems that bring tears to the eyes." + +"Joan's weak point is history," said Nancy. "She thought Henry the +Eighth was a widower when he married Anne Boleyn, and Starling made her +learn all his wives in order before she went to bed." + +"That will do, girls," said Miss Phipp firmly. "And if Miss Starling +was the name of your last governess, please call her so." + +The ensuing silence was broken by a smothered giggle from Joan, which +Nancy covered up by asking in a rather shaky voice of Miss Dexter +whether she and Miss Phipp had known each other before. + +"Yes," said Miss Dexter, "we were at school together--oh, years +ago--and have never seen each other since, until we met on the +platform. Funny, wasn't it? I say, is there a ghost at Kencote?" + +"Oh, no, it isn't old enough," replied Joan. "But there's one at the +dower-house--an old man in one boot who goes about looking for the +other one." + +"That's a jolly sort of ghost," said Miss Dexter. "Do you know who he +was?" + +"He is supposed to have been an ancestor in the time of Charles the +Second--he's dressed like that--who kicked his servant to death, +and----" + +"We've got some topping ancestors," put in Nancy. "There's a book +about them. Joan and I read it the other day. One of them was called +Abraham, and he said if he had a name like that he must live up to it, +so he called his sons Jacob and Esau----" + +"He only had one and he called him Isaac," interrupted Joan. "You have +got it wrong." + +"That will do," said Miss Phipp decisively, and just then the carriage +clattered under the porch and came to a standstill. + +The Squire had not been able to bring himself to meet his guests in the +hall, as was the hospitable custom at Kencote. He had meant to do so. +He had given in on the main point on which he had held out so long, and +honestly intended to behave well about it. He had gone to and fro +between his room and the morning-room across the hall, standing first +before the fire near which his wife was sitting, and then reading the +_Times_ for a few minutes in his own easy-chair, and when the wheels of +the first carriage had been heard, and Mrs. Clinton had put aside her +work and risen according to custom, he had gone out with her into the +hall. But when the servants came through to the door he thought that +they cast curious looks at him, as possibly they did, and he bolted +suddenly back to the shelter of his room, and stood there listening, +until the door of the morning-room was shut and the noises outside had +ceased. + +Then he grew ashamed of himself. What would Dick think of him? If he +delayed any longer it would look as if he were holding off, after +all--refusing to put at her ease and make welcome a guest in his own +house. So he gathered up his courage, settled his waistcoat, and +walked boldly into the morning-room, and straight up to Miss Dexter, +who was nearest to the door, and with whom he shook hands warmly, +somewhat to her confusion, before he distinguished Virginia, who had +risen when he came in. + +Her colour was high, and her eyes sparkling, but she smiled in his +face, and said, as Americans do on an introduction, "Mr. Clinton," and +then waited for him to speak, still standing and looking straight into +his eyes, with the smile that invited friendliness. + +The Squire turned away from her somewhat confused, and said, "Tea +ready, Nina? Lady George must be cold after her journey. What sort of +weather was it in London?" + +Miss Dexter replied to the question, as his brows had been bent upon +her when it was asked. She said it was rather raw, and the answer +seemed to satisfy him, for he left that subject and remarked that the +Radicals seemed to be making a disgraceful mess of it as usual, and if +this sort of thing went on we should all be driven out of the country. + +This led nowhere, and that awful pause seemed likely to ensue where +people ill at ease with one another search for topics to hide up their +discomfort. But Virginia, who had sat down again, said, "Mr. Clinton, +have you ever forgiven us for heading back the fox?" + +"Eh! What!" asked the Squire, with a lively recollection of the rebuke +he had administered on the occasion referred to. + +Virginia laughed. "You were terrible," she said. "But you had every +right to be terrible. I'd never done such a thing before, and I hope I +shall never do such a thing again. I feel like getting under the sofa +every time I think of it." + +The Squire thought the last statement just slightly verging on +indelicacy, but its effect on his mind was only momentary, so relieved +was he at having a subject held out to him. Deep down in his heart he +held to his aversion to Virginia, and nothing in her appearance or +attitude had in the least softened it. But, externally, it had to be +covered up, and because she offered him a covering he was grateful, and +for the moment well disposed towards her. + +"Ladies who come into the hunting-field," he said, with a near approach +to a smile, "and turn foxes, must expect to be spoken sharply to." + +This was enough for Virginia to go on with, but not for Miss Dexter, +who had heard the words, but missed the smile. "It is like interfering +with a child's toys," she said. "He forgets his manners for the +moment." + +The Squire bent a look of puzzled displeasure on her, but before her +words could sink in, Virginia said, "Toby, don't be tiresome. You +don't know anything whatever about hunting, and you are so absurdly +vain that you can't bear to be corrected when you've done wrong." + +Dick laughed and said to his mother, "Miss Dexter gets a good deal of +correction and puts up with it like an angel. She's not in the least +vain, really." + +"Nothing much to be vain of," said Miss Dexter, with complete +equanimity. + +The Squire was still looking at her as if adjusting his mind to her +presence and potentialities, and she looked up at him and said, "Miss +Phipp, your children's governess, is an old friend of mine. We were at +school together." Then she looked down again and took a sip of tea. + +The Squire seemed at a loss to know what use to make of this piece of +information, but Dick said, "She looks as if she would be able to +handle them all right." + +"You mean that she is plain," said Miss Dexter. + +"You seem to be in a very bad humour," Dick retorted. + +"She's in an atrocious humour," said Virginia. "She always is when +she's been travelling. She will pick up and be thoroughly amiable when +she's had two cups of tea." + +"Do let me give you another one," said Mrs. Clinton, with a kind smile, +and everybody laughed, including the Squire, a second or two late. + +Conversation went fairly easily after that, and by and by Mrs. Clinton +took Virginia and Miss Dexter up to their rooms. Never very ready of +speech, she had little to say as they went up the staircase and along +the corridors, but when she had shown them their rooms, which were +adjoining, she asked, "Would you like to come and see the children in +their quarters? I hope they are making Miss Phipp feel at home." + +"I should love to," said Virginia; and Miss Dexter said, "They ought to +have come to some understanding by now." + +Joan and Nancy were sitting one on either side of Miss Phipp at the +tea-table. Their demure air, which did not quite correspond to the +look in their eyes, probably warned Mrs. Clinton that if any +understanding had been come to it was of a one-sided nature, but Miss +Phipp looked comfortable both in mind and body, and said, as she rose +from the table, "We have been having a good talk about our future +plans. We are going to do a great deal of hard work together, and put +all our minds into it." + +The twins, for once, forbore to add to a statement of that nature. +Their bright eyes were fixed full upon Virginia, who smiled radiantly +on them and said, "What a lovely schoolroom you have! I shouldn't mind +working in a room like this." + +"It _is_ rather nice," said Joan. "Miss Starling, our last governess, +taught us to keep it in order." + +"Miss Starling seems to have taught them some very useful things," said +Miss Phipp, with firm complacency. "She was with you for a good many +years, was she not, Mrs. Clinton?" + +"Her name was 'Miss Bird,'" said Mrs. Clinton. "We were all very fond +of her, and the boys gave her a nickname out of affection." + +"Oh!" said Miss Phipp, casting a glance of disapproval on the twins, +who met it with eyes of blameless innocence. + +Later on when the twins went to their room to change their frocks they +dismissed Hannah from attendance on them. "We have something to talk +over," said Joan, "and we can do without you this evening." + +"You had better wait outside on the mat and we'll call you if we want +you," said Nancy. + +"Indeed, Miss Nancy, I should demean myself by doing no such thing," +said the indignant Hannah. "If you wish to talk between yourselves as +well I know what you want to talk about, though deny it you may, +straight downstairs do I go, and you may do your 'airs yourself, for I +shall not come up again till it's time to tidy." + +"Hurry up," said Nancy. "We'll ring if we want you." + +When Hannah had departed Joan said, "Well, what do you think of her" + +"Who do you mean--Virginia, or Pipp, or Toby?" + +"Virginia, of course. I think she's rather sweet. She's worth ten of +sweet Sue Clinton, anyhow." + +"That's not saying much for her. I think she's all right, though. But +I haven't seen any signs of the chocolates yet." + +"What chocolates?" + +"I thought she'd be sure, to bring us a great big expensive box tied up +with pink ribbons, so as to make friends with us and get us on her +side." + +"I shouldn't have thought nearly so much of her if she had. What I +like about her is that she doesn't toady. She knows she's got to make +a good impression, but she doesn't show she's trying. I'm sure mother +likes her." + +"We haven't seen her with father yet." + +"We shall at dinner. I really think she's rather a darling, Nancy. I +think I shall give in." + +Nancy announced her intention of holding out a little longer just to +make sure. "She's just the merest trifle too sweet for my taste," she +said. "I must be quite certain that it's part of her first." + +"I'm sure it's part of her," said Joan. "She isn't any sweeter than +Aunt Grace, and you like her." + +"Aunt Grace is too sweet for my taste, although it is part of her, and +isn't put on. I like people with more character. Toby, now--she's a +ripper." + +"Yes, I like her," admitted Joan. "She likes us too. I think she +wants to egg us on to deal with Pipp." + +"We shan't want much egging. We've got her a bit puzzled already. I +don't think she's a bad sort, you know, Joan. I thought she'd give us +bread and water when mother went away." + +"She's not quite sure of herself yet. We'll go on playing at being +High School girls for a bit. It's rather fun. Don't they wear their +hair in pigtails?" + +"We might plait our hair after breakfast to-morrow. And they always +say 'Yes, Miss Phipp,' 'No, Miss Phipp.' You know that story we read?" + +"We'll go through it again. We'll do all the proper things at lesson +time, and outside the schoolroom we'll be our own sweet selves. It +will be rather a bore going for walks with her." + +"She can't be allowed to be instructive then." + +"Rather not. She'll want firm handling, but I think we shall be equal +to it." + +"It may come to a tussle. But we've only got to keep our heads. There +are two of us, and there's only one of her. We'll be kind but firm, +and when she's learnt her place I dare say we shall get on all right, +and everything will go swimmingly. What _has_ Hannah done with my +hair-ribbon? Ring the bell loud, Joan, and go on ringing till she +comes up." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +A LAWN MEET + +The Squire may have forgotten, when he gave his consent to Virginia +being asked to Kencote on this particular date, that on the following +day the hounds would meet at Kencote, and there was to be a hunt +breakfast. He had his due share of stupidity, but he was clever enough +to see, when he did realise what had happened, that Virginia's presence +at Kencote on so public an occasion would spread abroad the fact of his +surrender as nothing else could do so pointedly. + +He did not half like it. He was not quite sure in his mind exactly +what he had surrendered by consenting to receive her, but he was quite +sure that he had never meant to give up his right to make her first +visit her last if he did not approve of her, and when the mild January +day dawned and he went into his dressing-room it was with a mind +considerably perplexed, for he did not know whether he approved of her +or not, and yet here were all these people coming, who would see her +there, and possibly--the more officious of them--actually go so far as +to congratulate him on the approaching marriage in his family. + +He had gone as far as that. He recognised that, whatever he thought +about the matter himself, the rest of the world, as represented by the +people amongst whom he lived, would, undoubtedly, hold that there was +cause for congratulation. He even went a little further, without +admitting it to himself: he accepted the general verdict of his +neighbours, that Virginia was a very beautiful and a very taking +person. Only he had not taken to her himself. She had tried him hard, +during the previous evening, and several times, especially after his +first glass of port, he had nearly allowed himself to fall a victim to +her charm. But he had just managed to hold out, and in the cold light +of morning, and removed from her presence, thinking also of the company +that was presently to assemble, he frowned when he thought of her, and +said aloud as he brushed his hair, which he always did the first thing +in the morning, even before he looked at the weather-glass, "Confound +the woman! Infernal nuisance! I wish the day was well over." + +Presently, however, his thoughts grew rather lighter. It was a perfect +day for his favourite sport, and he was going to hunt once more. He +felt as eager as a schoolboy for it. Having received Virginia in his +house, there was no object in seeking to avoid her in the field, and +the relief to his mind in having nothing before him actually to spoil +his pleasure in a day with the hounds was so great that it reacted on +his view of Virginia, and he said, also aloud, as he folded his stock, +"I wonder if she'll do after all." + +But no; that was too much. Of course she wouldn't do. She was an +American--well, perhaps that could be forgiven her: she was not +glaringly transatlantic. She had been a stage-dancer. You had to +remind yourself of the fact, but there was no doubt that it was a fact. +Ugh! She was the widow of a rascal, living on the money he had left +her, which had been got, probably, by the shadiest of courses, if not +dishonestly. That was positively damning, and he could not understand +how Dick could complaisantly accept such a situation and prepare to +live partly upon it. But perhaps she had very little money and was +deeply in debt, and there would be difficulty about that later on. He +had not thought of that before, and slid away from the thought now, as +quickly as possible. He did not want to spoil his day's pleasure. But +a gloomy tinge was imparted to his thoughts, and again he frowned at +the idea of what lay before him when the neighbours for miles round +would be collected and he would have his difficult part to play before +them. + +Virginia came down to breakfast in her riding habit, which is a +becoming costume to no woman unless she is on a horse. The Squire had +an old-fashioned grudge against hunting-women in general, and he was +not cordial to Virginia, although he made every effort to act +conformably to his duties as her host. Whatever inroads she might have +made on his prejudice against her on the previous evening when, in a +dress of black chiffon with touches of heliotrope about her neck and in +her lustrous hair, she had looked lovely and surprisingly young, she +held small charm for him now, and it was with difficulty that he +brought himself to be polite to her, as she sat at his right hand +during breakfast. + +Fortunately some distraction was afforded to him by the presence of +Miss Phipp, to whom he had just been introduced for the first time. He +found her astonishingly plain, and he was the sort of man who finds +food for humour in the contemplation of a plain woman. But in his +present mild state of discomfort he found no food for humour in Miss +Phipp's obvious disregard of her proper position in the house. Miss +Bird had never spoken at the breakfast table unless spoken to. She +would have considered it immodest to do so. Miss Phipp bore a leading +part in the conversation, and as she had only one subject--the +education of the young, in which the Squire possessed no overmastering +interest--by the end of the meal he was seriously considering the +necessity of giving her a snub. + +Miss Phipp's thesis, which she developed with considerable force, and a +wealth of illustration drawn from her previous experience, was that a +woman's brains were every bit as good as a man's, and that she could do +just as much in the way of scholarship if her training began early and +was carried on on the right lines. + +"What do _you_ think about it?" Miss Dexter asked of Nancy, who was +sitting next to her. + +"I think," replied Nancy, with a side glance at Miss Phipp, "that it +depends a great deal on the teacher," at which Miss Dexter laughed, +thus giving the answer a personal application. + +"_Of course_ it depends a great deal upon the teacher. That is exactly +what I said," Miss Phipp went on. "When I was at the High School there +was a girl who had taken the highest possible honours at London +University, but she was of no more use as a teacher than--than +anything. Teaching is a gift by itself, and sometimes the best +scholars do not possess it." + +"I think we shall find a fox in Hartover," said the Squire. "I believe +that fellow they lost a month ago has taken up his quarters there." + +"At the same time," said Miss Phipp, "for the higher forms of a school +you _must_ have women who are good scholars as well as with a gift for +teaching." + +When breakfast was over the twins went out of the room one on each side +of Miss Dexter, to whom they had taken a warm fancy, and invited her to +visit their animals with them. But Miss Phipp said at once, "Oh, but I +shall want you in the schoolroom, girls. We are not to begin lessons +until Monday, but we must lose no time then, and I want to find out +beforehand exactly where you are." + +The twins looked at one another. They were all standing in the hall. +"Saturday is a whole holiday," said Joan. + +"That I know," replied Miss Phipp, "but it is important that we should +begin work on Monday without any delay. You can spare an hour. I +shall probably not keep you longer." + +The twins looked at one another again, and then at Miss Dexter, who +preserved a perfectly passive demeanour. "I think, if you don't mind," +said Joan, "we would rather get up an hour earlier on Monday. We +always feed the animals ourselves on Saturdays, directly after +breakfast." + +"Are you going to begin with me by showing disobedience?'" asked Miss +Phipp. "I must insist now that you shall come upstairs with me." + +The High School girls would have recognised this tone and quailed +before it. But Nancy said, "We'll come if mother says we must," and +Miss Phipp lost patience, and without another word walked into the +morning-room, into which she had seen Mrs. Clinton go with Virginia. + +The twins looked at one another once more, and then at Miss Dexter, who +received their glance with a twinkle in her eyes. "Now you're in for +it," she said. + +But the twins were rather alarmed. "We weren't rude to her, were we?" +asked Joan. + +"Hadn't we better go in to mother?" asked Nancy. + +"No, it's all right; we'll wait here," said Miss Dexter, and they +waited in silence until Miss Phipp marched out of the morning-room, +passed them without a word, and went upstairs. + +"Now we'll go and put our hats on and go out and see the animals," said +Miss Dexter; but just then Mrs. Clinton came out to them, looking +rather concerned, and Miss Dexter left them and joined Virginia in the +morning-room. + +"What happened?" she asked eagerly. + +"My dear Toby," replied Virginia, "are you going to foment a quarrel +between those darling children and the bosom friend of your childhood?" + +"No, I'm not," replied Miss Dexter. "I'm going to put her in the way +of settling down here. What happened?" + +"What happened? Why, she came in looking as red as a tomato, and said, +'Mrs. Clinton, I want the children to come into the schoolroom for an +hour, and they refuse. Is it your wish that they shall disobey me?' or +something like that." + +"They didn't refuse. What did Mrs. Clinton say?" + +"She said, 'Oh, surely not, Miss Phipp,' and it turned out, as you say, +that they had only said that they would rather not. Then Mrs. Clinton +said that she didn't want them to work on Saturdays, especially to-day, +because of the meet, and the friend of your childhood flounced out of +the room without another word. Toby, that good lady is as hot as +pepper." + +Then Mrs. Clinton came in again, and said, "I want the children to take +Miss Phipp out to see their animals too. They have gone up to her. +Will you go too?" + +But Miss Phipp was not in the schoolroom. "You go and put on your +hats, and I'll go and find her," said Miss Dexter. + +"Mother wasn't annoyed with us," said Joan. "We said we were quite +polite. We were, weren't we?" + +"Your manners were a lesson to us all," said Miss Dexter. + +Miss Phipp was in her bedroom, and Miss Dexter proffered the +invitation, of which she took no notice. "It's perfectly +preposterous," she said, turning an angry face upon her. "If this is +the sort of thing that is to happen my position here will be +impossible." + +"My dear girl, you shouldn't lose your temper," said Miss Dexter. +"They were quite right. You've no right to expect them to work in +their playtime. Besides, you shouldn't have told Mrs. Clinton that +they were disobedient. Come out and see their rabbits and guinea-pigs." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Miss Phipp. "I shall reconsider +my position. I will not stay and teach girls who are encouraged to set +my authority at naught." + +"Look here, Janet," said Miss Dexter firmly. "You are going the wrong +way to work here. You have every chance of having a real good time, +and doing something useful besides, but you can't behave in a private +family as if you were in a school." + +For answer Miss Phipp burst into most feminine tears. "I'm not well," +she sobbed. "I've got a splitting headache after yesterday's journey, +and I've lost control over myself." + +"Well, lie down for a bit," advised Miss Dexter. "You'll have the +whole day to yourself, and you needn't begin to think about work until +Monday. I'll put a match to your fire. Is there anything you'd like? +If there is I'm sure you can have it." + +"I'm a fool," said Miss Phipp, drying her eyes. "For goodness' sake +don't let those two know I broke down. I dare say I was wrong, but I +do want to do all I can to get them on quickly." + +"I know you do. And you'll have no difficulty when the proper time +comes. They're clever girls, and nice ones too. They are quite upset +at the idea of having upset _you_." + +"Are they?" said Miss Phipp drily. "Well, I think I _will_ lie down +for a bit and take some Phenacetin. No, I don't want anything else. +If I do, I can ring the bell." + +So she was left to herself, and Miss Dexter accompanied the twins in +their various errands of mercy, and expressed unbounded admiration of +the breeding and intelligence of the rodents submitted to her +inspection, after which they took her for a walk round the rhododendron +dell. + +They, were a little less ready with their conversation than usual, for +the late episode had been something quite new in their experience and +given them occasion for thought. At last Miss Dexter said, "If you are +worrying about Janet Phipp, I shouldn't, if I were you. She's a good +sort, and you'll get on with her all right." + +"I hope we shall," said Joan, "but I'm inclined to doubt it. She's so +_very_ different to the old starling. We had any amount of fun with +her, but then, we loved her." + +"Well, you'll love Miss Phipp when you know her. I've known her +for--well, I won't tell you how many years, but we're neither of us +chickens, as you can see." + +"And do you love her?" asked Nancy. + +"I used to, and I should again if I saw anything of her." + +"Well, that's something in her favour," said Joan. "But Nancy and I +will have to talk it over and settle our course of action." + +"Well, talk it over now. I shan't repeat anything you say." + +"We like you very much," said Nancy. "But as you're a friend of hers, +we might not like to speak quite plainly. It's rather a serious +situation." + +"Oh, you can talk quite plainly before me. I can see the situation +well enough, and it isn't as serious as you think. She has never been +in a private family before, and has had no experience except with a +horde of schoolgirls. Of course you have to keep a tight hand over +them, and when they're at school nobody has authority over them except +the teachers. She'll soon tumble to it that your mother has more say +in things than she can have. But you mustn't always be appealing to +your mother against her." + +"Of course we shouldn't do that," said Joan indignantly. "We never did +with Starling, except in fun." + +"Besides, we are quite capable of controlling the situation by +ourselves, when once we've settled on a course of action," said Nancy. + +Miss Dexter laughed. "I've no doubt you are," she said. "Only give +her a chance. That's all I ask." + +"I suppose you don't object to our exercising our humour on her?" asked +Nancy. "We have our reputation to keep up. And you must admit that +she was rather trying this morning." + +"Look here," said Miss Dexter. "She's been ill, and she's not well +now. You may think it funny, but when I went in to see her just now +she cried." + +"Oh, poor darling!" exclaimed Joan. "Of course we'll be kind to her, +won't we, Nancy?" + +"We'll think it over," said Nancy. "We mustn't be sentimental. You're +rather inclined to it, Joan. She may have shed tears of rage at being +thwarted." + +"You're a beast," said Joan uncompromisingly. "I hate to think of +people being unhappy." + +"You see," Miss Dexter put in, "she's suffering under a great +disappointment. She's a splendid teacher and was getting on awfully +well, and then she broke down and has had to take a private job. Many +people would much prefer to live in a place like this, and have a good +time, instead of toiling hard at a school. But, for her, it's good-bye +to a career in life, and she can't help feeling rather sore about it." + +"Poor darling!" exclaimed Joan again. "We'll take her to our hearts +and make up for it. Don't you be afraid, Toby dear--you don't mind us +calling you that, do you?--if Nancy misbehaves I know how to deal with +her." + +"I don't want to misbehave," said Nancy, "and if I did you couldn't +stop me. If she treats us well we'll treat her well. I shan't make +any rash promises. I think we'd better be getting back now. People +will begin to turn up soon, and it's such fun to see them." + +They went back to the house, and presently there came riding up the +drive two men in pink, and immediately after there came a dogcart and +then a carriage and then more men on horses and a lady or two, and +after that a constant succession of riders and people on wheels and on +foot, until the open stretch of park in front of the house was full of +them. + +And at last the huntsman and whips came trotting slowly along the drive +and on to the grass, and the hounds streaming along with them waving +their sterns, a useful, well-matched pack, much alike in the mass, but +each with as much individuality as the men and women who thronged +around them. + +Then the members of the hunt began to drift by twos and threes into the +house and into the dining-room, where the Squire was very hospitable +and hearty in pressing refreshments on them--"just a sandwich, or +something to keep out the draught," he kept on repeating, full of +pleasure at being able to feed dozens of people who didn't want +feeding, and quite forgetting for the time being his fears as to the +effect of Virginia's presence. + +Virginia, not wishing any more than he to make herself a centre of the +occasion, was on her horse already, and Dick was with her, and a +handsome pair they made. So thought old Aunt Laura who had had herself +drawn up by the porch in her Bath chair, as far away as possible from +"the horses' hoofs." She had just heard that a marriage was about to +take place in the family and was full of twittering excitement at the +news. + +"My nephew," she said, meaning the Rector, "told me the glad news only +this morning, my dear. I am overjoyed to hear it, and to have the +opportunity of seeing you so soon. Please do not bring your horse too +close, if you do not mind. I am somewhat nervous of animals." + +"I'll bring her to see you this evening, Aunt Laura," said Dick, "or, +if she's too tired, to-morrow morning." + +"I shan't be too tired," said Virginia, smiling at the old lady. "Dick +has often told me about you, Miss Clinton, but you know I have never +been in Kencote before." + +The Rector had given Aunt Laura some hint of the difficulty there had +been over the engagement, and she said soothingly, "I know, my dear, I +know. But I have no doubt you will be here very often now, and I am +sure nobody will be more pleased to see you than I shall. Dear me, +what with Walter and Cicely being married two years ago and Dick and +Humphrey about to be married, one feels one belongs to a family in +which things are always happening. I only wish that my dear sisters +had been alive to take part in it all. They would have been so +pleased. But the last of them died last year, as no doubt Dick has +told you, and I am no longer able to welcome you in our old home. But +I have a very nice little house in the village, and if you will come +and drink a cup of tea with me I shall feel great gratification, and I +will show you some of my treasures. Tell me, Dick, for my eyes are not +quite what they were, is that our Cousin Humphrey?" + +It was, in fact, Lord Meadshire, who in spite of a cold, which made him +hoarser than ever, had driven over with his daughter, and now, looking +frail and shrunken in his heavy fur coat, but indomitably determined to +make the best of life, came slowly across the gravel to greet once +again the only member of his own generation left alive amongst all his +relations. + +"Well, Laura," he said, "this is like old times, eh?" and then he +recognised Virginia, and showed, although he did not say so, that he +was pleasantly surprised to see her there. + +"You have heard, I suppose, Humphrey," said Aunt Laura, with obvious +pride in being first with the news, "that we are shortly to have yet +another wedding in the family. I have not seen dear Edward yet; I have +no doubt he is busy indoors, but will be out soon--and I shall be able +to tell him how glad I am that everything is happily settled." + +Lord Meadshire's sharp old eyes twinkled up at Virginia, and at Dick, +who said, "Don't you say anything to him about it yet, Aunt Laura. +He's not quite ready for it"; and Lord Meadshire added, "You've been +given early news, Laura. We must keep it to ourselves until it is +published abroad--what? My dear"--this to Virginia--"I needn't tell +you how glad I am, and I wish you every possible happiness and +prosperity." + +He stayed to chat for a few minutes with Aunt Laura after Virginia and +Dick had moved away. "It seems but yesterday," said Aunt Laura, "that +my dear father, who, of course, kept these hounds, entertained his +friends here in just such a way as this, and I was a little girl with +all my dear sisters, and you were a young man, Humphrey, very gay and +active, riding over and talking and laughing with everybody. And it is +just the same pretty scene now as it was then, although all the people +who took part in it are dead, except you and I." + +"My dear Laura," wheezed Lord Meadshire, "I'm gay and active now, if it +comes to that, and so are you, in your heart of hearts. Come, let us +forget that tiresome number of years that lies behind us and go and +amuse ourselves with the rest. If I stand out here in the cold, I +shall have Emily after me--what?" + +So Aunt Laura was helped out of her Bath chair, and they went into the +house together slowly, and arm in arm. + +The Squire hastened to meet them and find chairs for them, rather +uncomfortably near the fire. He was loud in his expressions of +pleasure at seeing his kinsman there, and not unmindful, either, of the +comfort of Aunt Laura. He would have been beyond measure scandalised +at the charge of treating her with increased consideration since he had +learnt of her wealth, and indeed he had shown himself, as has been +said, indifferent to the possibility of her being wealthy, but there +was no doubt that she had increased in importance in his eyes during +the last week or two, and she was accordingly treated more as a +personage at Kencote than she had ever been before in her life. + +Lord Meadshire accepted a glass of champagne. It was a festive +occasion, and he loved festive occasions of all sorts. Everybody in +the room came up and talked to him, and he was pleased to talk to +everybody and said the right thing to each. But presently he found the +opportunity of a word apart with the Squire. + +"So you've given in, Edward--eh, what?" he remarked, with a mischievous +look in his old face, and before he could be answered, said, more +seriously, "Well, you were right to stick out if you thought it +wouldn't do--to stick out as long as you could--but you must be glad +all the bother's over now, and I feel sure you'll come to think it +isn't so bad as you thought it would be. Come now, weren't all the +rest of us right? Isn't she a dear creature?" + +"I haven't given in," said the Squire shortly. "I don't know yet what +I'm going to do. Of course, if Dick has made up his mind, I'm not +going to keep him at arm's length all the rest of my life, however much +I may object to what he's doing. That's why he's here, and why she's +here." + +"Ah!" said Lord Meadshire wisely. "That's the way to talk. When you +say that you're nearly at the end of your troubles." + +As he drove off a little later with Lady Kemsale he told her that +Edward was conquered, although he wouldn't acknowledge it. "He's an +obstinate fellow," said Lord Meadshire, "and from what Nina told me I +should say that he's having hard work to hold out against the dear +lady. Well, she's only got to keep on being herself and he'll be at +her feet like all the rest of us." + +"Dear papa," said Lady Kemsale, "Lady George has bewitched you." + +"My dear," said Lord Meadshire, "I admit it fully. And if she can +bewitch me she can bewitch Edward. She's half-way on the road already." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +WHAT MISS PHIPP SAW + +Miss Phipp lay quite still on her bed for half an hour with her eyes +closed, while the pain in her head grew and became almost +insupportable, as she had known it would, and then, under the influence +of the drug, slowly ebbed away until, exhausted as she was, her state +was one of such relief as to amount to bliss. She could not afford to +be angry, if she was to escape the punishment of these short-lived but +agonising bursts of pain, and she had been very angry. Now she told +herself that she had been foolish to upset herself about nothing. Her +friend's words had borne fruit in her robust and sensible mind. It was +quite true that she could not expect to exercise the same undivided +authority in a private house as in a school, and she must find +compensations elsewhere, which she very speedily did. At the school +she had herself been under authority, and had not been able to carry +out unchecked her favourite theories of education. Here she would be +free of that check, for she did not suppose that Mrs. Clinton would +desire to interfere with her in her teaching. And the children were +bright enough. Surely there was opportunity here for doing something +in a small way, which she had never been able to do at all as yet! +They were nice children too, with some character. They had not given +in to her, but they had held out without being in the least rude, and +it was good of them, after what had happened, to want her to go with +them to see their odious animals. + +At this point Mrs. Clinton, who had been told of her bad headache, +knocked at her door and asked if she wanted anything. She thanked her +and said "No," and Mrs. Clinton further asked if she would like to +drive with her, for, if she was well enough, it might do her good. + +She got off her bed and opened the door, and when Mrs. Clinton saw the +dark circles under her eyes she exclaimed in sympathy, and insisted +upon fetching eau-de-Cologne, and performing various little services +for her, which, although she now scarcely needed them, made her feel +that she was cared for. She was instructed to lie still for a while +longer, and something should presently be sent up to her. Then she was +to lunch quietly by herself, and in the afternoon, if she was well +enough, to take a short walk in the park. "It is so fine," said Mrs. +Clinton, "that I expect we shall be out all day, and you will have the +whole house to yourself, and can be as quiet as you like. And mind you +ask Garnett--my maid, you know--for anything you want. I will tell her +to keep an eye on you." + +Then she went away, and left Miss Phipp in a more comfortable frame of +mind and body than before. She was not used to being looked after in +illness, for she had lived a lonely life, and her near relations were +long since dead. She felt extraordinarily grateful to this kind, +thoughtful, sensible woman, who treated her as if she were a human +being and not like a mere teaching machine, and the thought began to +dawn upon her, that perhaps she might come to look upon Kencote as a +home, such as she had never hitherto had, and in the days of her health +had scarcely missed. + +Her bedroom was in the front of the house, and she had heard, without +much heeding them, the wheels and the beat of horse-hoofs and the +voices outside. Now she began to be a little curious as to what was +going on, and rose and drew up her blind and looked out. + +The scene was quite new to her, and in spite of herself she exclaimed +at it. Immediately beyond the wide gravel sweep in front of the house +was the grass of the park, where the whole brave show of the South +Meadshire Hunt was collected. It is doubtful if she had ever seen a +pack of hounds in her life, and she watched them as if fascinated. +Presently, at some signal which she had not discerned, the huntsman and +the whips turned and trotted off with them, and behind them streamed +all the horsemen and horsewomen, the carriages and carts, and the +people on foot, until the whole scene which had been so full of life +and colour was entirely empty of all human occupation, and there was +only the damp grass of the park and the big bare trees under the pearly +grey of the winter sky. She saw the Squire ride off on his powerful +horse, and admired his sturdy erect carriage, and she saw Dick and +Virginia, side by side, Humphrey, the pink of sartorial hunting +perfection, Mrs. Clinton in her carriage, with Miss Dexter by her side +and the twins opposite to her, and for a moment wished she had accepted +her invitation to make one of the party, although she did not in the +least understand where they were going to, or what they were going to +do when they got there. All this concourse of apparently well-to-do +and completely leisured people going seriously about a business so +remote from any of the interests in life that she had known struck her +as entirely strange and inexplicable. She might have been in the midst +of some odd rites in an unexplored land. The very look of the country +in its winter dress was strange to her, for she was a lifelong +Londoner, and the country to her only meant a place where one spent +summer holidays. Decidedly it would be interesting--more interesting +than she had thought--to gain some insight into a life lived apparently +by a very large number of people in England, if this one little corner +could produce so many exponents of it, but curiously unlike any life +that she had lived herself or seen other people living. + +She went through the course prescribed for her by Mrs. Clinton, and +enjoyed the quiet of the big house and the warm airy seclusion of the +schoolroom, where she read a book and wrote a little, and after lunch +went to sleep on the sofa before the fire. Then at about half-past +three, although she hated all forms of exercise and would have much +preferred to stay indoors, she went out for a little walk. + +She went down the drive and through the village, and was struck by the +absence of humanity. If she had to take a walk on a winter afternoon +she would have wished to take it on pavements and to feel herself one +of a crowd. Here everybody she did meet stared at her, wondering, +obviously, who she was, which rather annoyed her. But when she got out +on to the country road and met nobody at all, she liked it still less, +and walked on from a sheer sense of duty. She had no eyes for the mild +beauty of the winter evening, nor ears for the breathing of the +sleeping earth. She plodded doggedly on, hating the mud, and only +longing to get back again to her book by the fireside. When she met a +slow farm cart jogging homewards, she made no reply to the touch of the +hat accorded her by the carter, but showed unfeigned terror at the +friendly inquisitiveness of his dog. In her soft felt hat, black +skirt, and braided jacket, she was as much out of place in the wide +brooding landscape as if she had been in the desert of Sahara, and +disliked the one as much as she would have disliked the other. + +As she was going up the drive on her return, she felt a little glow at +the sight of the lighted windows of the house. If she had thought of +it she would have known that it was her first experience of the +pleasures of the country in winter, for a house in a city does not +arouse exactly that feeling of expectant warmth, however much one may +desire to get inside it. But, even if she had been prepared to examine +the causes of the impulse, she would not have been able to, for it was +immediately ejected from her mind by one of terror. It was caused by +the sudden sharp trot of a horse on the gravel immediately behind her. +She turned round, terribly startled and prepared for instant +annihilation. But the horse had only crossed the drive, and was now +cantering across the turf away from her. It was riderless, the +stirrups swinging against its flanks, the reins broken and trailing. + +At first she did not, so entirely ignorant was she of such things, +attach any meaning at all to the empty saddle. For all she knew, +horses without riders might roam the wilds of the country, adding +greatly to its dangers, as a matter of recognised habit. But when she +had recovered from her shock, some connection between what she had just +seen and something she had read or heard of or seen in a picture formed +itself in her mind, and it occurred to her that probably the horse had +got rid of its rider, and there might conceivably have been an +unpleasant accident. Then she made a further rapid and brilliant +induction, and came to the conclusion that a riderless horse which made +his way home to his stable at Kencote had probably set out from Kencote +with some one on his back, and, as his saddle had no pommels, that +either the Squire or Dick or Humphrey had been thrown. She knew +nothing about grooms and second horses, and narrowed her convictions +still further by the recollection of Dick's having ridden a grey. The +riderless horse was brown--it was really a bright bay, but it was brown +to her. Therefore either the Squire or Humphrey must have been thrown +from his horse in the hunting-field, and from scraps of recollection of +old novels in which hunting scenes had occurred the outcome of such +accidents presented itself to her alarmed mind as probably fatal. + +She stood at the door after having rung the bell--it did not occur to +her to open it and walk in--a prey to the liveliest fears, and when she +had waited for some time and rung again and then waited some time more, +she was not at all relieved by the face of the servant who opened it to +her. "The horse!" she said quickly. "Whose horse?" + +"I'm afraid it's Mr. Clinton's, miss," said the man. "Mrs. Clinton and +the young ladies are in the morning-room and nobody's told 'em yet. We +don't know what to do." + +It was not the grave and decorous butler who had answered the bell, but +the same young footman who had omitted to see to the smoking-room fire +a week or so before, or Miss Phipp would not have had the unpleasant +duty thrust upon her of breaking the news to Mrs. Clinton. But she +accepted it at once, and went straight into the morning-room, where +Mrs. Clinton, still in her furs, and Miss Dexter and the twins were +drinking tea. + +"Oh, Miss Phipp, I do hope you are better," said Mrs. Clinton. "Sit +down and have some tea and tell me how you have been getting on." + +"May I speak to you for a moment?" said Miss Phipp, standing at the +door, and Mrs. Clinton rose from her seat and came out into the hall +with her, where some of the servants were beginning to collect. Their +scared faces did not reassure her, and she put her hand to her heart as +she turned to Miss Phipp for an explanation. + +"I saw Mr. Clinton's horse galloping across the park," said Miss Phipp. +"I am afraid he must have had an accident." + +Mrs. Clinton showed no further signs of weakness, but asked at once for +Porter, the butler; and when it was explained to her that he was in his +cottage in the park, but had been sent for, she asked for Probyn, the +head coachman, who came pushing through the group by the service door +as she spoke. He had already done what she would have ordered, sent +out grooms on horseback, and got a carriage ready to go to any point on +the receipt of further news. + +"Then there is nothing more to do," said Mrs. Clinton after a moment's +consideration, "and we must wait. Send Garnett to me upstairs." + +She asked a few more questions and then made a step towards the +staircase, but turned again towards the morning-room. "I must tell the +children," she said. "Please come in and have some tea." + +Miss Phipp followed her, in admiration of her calm self-control. Mrs. +Clinton said, "I am afraid your father has had a fall, as Bay Laurel +has come back to the stable without him. But he has fallen before and +not hurt himself, so there is no need to be frightened. I am just +going upstairs for a minute and then I will come down again." + +The twins looked at one another and at their two elders with frightened +eyes. "Bay Laurel was father's second horse," said Joan. "He rode +Kenilworth this morning and we passed him coming home, so it can't have +been the groom." + +Nancy got up from her chair. "Oh, I wish mother would come down," she +said. + +"Sit down, dear," said Miss Dexter. "Your mother told you not to be +frightened." + +But Nancy went to the window, and Joan followed her. They drew aside +the curtains and looked out on the park, lying still and empty in the +now fading light. "Isn't that something near the gate?" asked Joan. +"No, it is only a tree. Bay Laurel is as quiet as any horse in the +stable, Nancy. He must have fallen at a fence." + +"I should have thought he would have stood until father got up," said +Nancy. + +"It looks as if he had been too much hurt to get up," said Joan, and +then began to cry. + +Miss Dexter came over to them and drew the curtains again firmly. +"Don't make a fuss," she said, "or you will make your mother anxious. +Pull yourselves together and come and sit down. Joan, give Miss Phipp +some tea." + +Joan did as she was told, still crying softly. Nancy said, "Father has +never had a bad fall, and he has been hunting all his life. He knows +how to take a toss. Don't be a fool, Joan. I expect it will be all +right." + +"Don't talk like that," said Miss Phipp sharply, her nerves on edge, +"and, Joan, stop crying at once." + +Upon which Joan cried the more. "I'm sure he's badly hurt," she said, +"and he's lying out in the c-cold, or they'll b-bring him home on a +shutter." + +Mrs. Clinton came in, looking much the same as usual, except that she +was paler. She sat down at the tea-table and said, "Don't cry, Joan +dear. Probyn says that there are no signs of Bay Laurel's having come +down, so it was probably not a bad fall, and I expect father will be +home soon." + +But Joan knew too much to be comforted in this way, and her imagination +was working. She threw herself on her mother and sobbed, "If f-father +had fallen and B-bay Laurel hadn't, he'd have kept hold of the reins, +unless he was too b-badly hurt." + +Mrs. Clinton said nothing, but drew her to her, and they sat, for the +most part in silence, and waited, for a long time. + +Presently Joan, who had been sitting with her head on Mrs. Clinton's +shoulder, started up and said, "There! there! I heard wheels." Then +she began to sob uncontrollably. + +Mrs. Clinton got up. The sound of wheels was now plain outside. Joan +clung to her, and cried, "Oh, don't go, mother. You don't know what +you may see. Oh, please don't go." + +Her cries frightened the rest. They heard the clang of the heavy bell +in the back regions and voices and steps in the hall outside. None of +them knew what would be brought into it. Even Mrs. Clinton was +paralysed in her movements for a moment, and did not know what to do +with the terrified child clinging to her. The door opened and Joan +shrieked. Then the Squire walked into the room with his hat on and his +arm bound up in a black sling over his red coat. "Hulloa! What's +this?" he exclaimed in a voice not quite so strong as ordinary. +"Nothing to make a fuss about. I took a nasty toss, and I've broken my +collar-bone." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE RUN OF THE SEASON + +The breaking of a collar-bone is not a very serious matter. Men have +been known to suffer the mishap and continue for a time the activity +that brought it about without being any the worse. But to a man of the +Squire's age and weight the shock he had sustained was not altogether a +light one, and when he had reassured his anxious family as to his +comparatively perfect safety, he retired to his bed and kept to it for +a few days. It was the first time in his life that such a thing had +happened to him, and he did not take kindly to the confinement. But it +was eased of some of its rigour, after the first day, during which he +suffered from a slight fever, by his making his big bedroom an audience +chamber, in the manner of a bygone age, and most people in the house, +as well as a good many from outside it, were bidden to sit with him and +entertain him in turn. + +Amongst the most welcome of his visitors was Virginia, for it was she +who had, by good fortune, released him from what might have been a far +worse predicament than was indicated by the slight damage he had +sustained, and although she would have done what she had for any other +member of the hunt, still, she had done it, and his gratitude to her +had the effect of removing from his mind the last vestiges of the +prejudice he had nursed against her, which in its latest stages had +been far weaker than he knew. What had happened was as follows. + +A stout fox had been turned out of Hartover Copse within a few minutes +of the hounds being put into it, and had made off straight across +country with a business-like determination that seemed to show that he +knew exactly where safety lay and was going to lose no time in making +for it. + +The Squire, old in his knowledge of the ways of a fox and the lie of +the South Meadshire country, had posted himself hard by the point where +the fox broke covert, and was one of the first away. For fifteen +minutes it was straight hard going, leaving little chance for those who +had not secured a good start to make up their distance, and none at all +for those who were following on wheels and hoped by taking short cuts +to come up with the hounds again at some point or other. When the +score or so who were in front obtained a minute of breathing space, +while the hounds, which had been running so straight that they overran +the line where the fox had turned hard by Gorsey Common, five miles +from Kencote, were casting about to recover the scent, there was little +of the main field to be seen. The Squire, with joy and exhilaration in +his breast, reined up and looked behind him. They had come down a long +slope and up another, and in all the mile-wide valley across which they +had ridden there were not more than a dozen others to be seen, and some +of them very far away. But amongst them were Virginia and Dick, who +were even now breasting the grassy, gorsey slope, at the top of which +he sat on his horse. Taken unawares, he could not but admire +Virginia's slim, graceful figure, swaying so lightly to every move of +the mare under her, and he had ready some words to call out to her when +she should reach him. + +But before that happened the deep note of Corsican, the oldest and +wisest hound in the South Meadshire pack, and the thrilling chorus +which immediately answered it, warned him that the hounds had found +what they had been looking for, and immediately he was off again, with +all thought of those behind him forgotten, and nothing in his mind but +that baying dappled stream that was leading him, now as fast as before, +straight across a country as well grassed as any in the Shires. + +Right through the middle of it too; and when he had galloped across +half a dozen wide meadows, and Kenilworth had landed him, without the +least little vestige of hesitation or clumsiness, on the other side of +a stiffish bullfinch, his heart went up in a pæan of gratitude to +whatever power directs these matters, at the thought that he had taken +chances and had his second horse sent on to Beeston Holt, which lay +midway between Kencote and Trensham Woods, to which he now began +greatly to hope that this brave fox was leading them. + +Only once before, during all the long years in which he had hunted over +this country, had such a thing happened. The line between Kencote and +Trensham, a distance of twenty-five miles at least, pierced lengthwise +this stretch of low-lying grazing country, which, intersected by a +brook or two, by stout fences of post and rail, and thick hedges which +had no need of barbed wire to aid their defence, was like the fairway +of a golf-course, perfect while you were on it, but beset with hazards +on either side. Only the most determined of foxes would keep to it for +the whole distance. There was Pailthorpe Spinney to the left, before +you got to the first brook, and no stopping of earths there could +prevent Master Reynard from poking his nose amongst them to try, if he +were so minded. And although he could always be bustled out again, it +was unlikely that, having once turned aside, he would take to the grass +again. He might make for Greenash Wood across heavy ploughs, or for +Spilling, where thick orchards made it impossible to follow the hounds, +and you had to take one or two wide circuits. + +But this fox had already scorned the delusive shelter of Pailthorpe +Spinney, and if he was not bending all his attention on the Trensham +Woods, where he probably would find safety, if he got there in time, he +was at least bound to lead them over grass for another four miles, to +where, at Beeston Holt, he might possibly decide to turn aside and +cross the river and the railway and try for the first of a long chain +of coverts which circled round towards Blaythorn. In that case the +best of the day would be over, but if they could keep him on the move +there would be something to look forward to before they ran into him, +and the run would still be a memorable one. Yes, he was most likely to +do that. It was too much to hope for that that glorious day of +five-and-thirty years before would be repeated, when the high-stomached +ancestor of countless good Meadshire foxes had travelled straight as an +arrow, scorning all lesser chances of safety, for the high deep woods +of Trensham, and the Squire, not long since married, and in the very +flower of his tireless youthful vigour, mounted on his great horse +Merrydew, with no change, had kept with the hounds all the way and +shaken off master, huntsman, whips, and all, when they ran into him at +last within two fields of safety. + +And yet!--there was that quick determined start, the sudden turn on +Gorsey Common, which meant contempt of the line pointing to the coverts +at Mountfield, the passing of Pailthorpe Spinney, and now this direct, +rattling run across brook and fence and hedge down the very middle of +the grasslands. It might happen--the run of a lifetime repeated. His +only fear now was that his second horse would not be up at Beeston Holt +in time, for there wasn't a horse in the country or in the wide world +which could carry his weight through to Trensham at the pace hounds +were running. + +Beeston Holt lay on the bank of the river with the railway beyond it. +It was a straggling village, facing a stretch of common land, and there +was a wide space in front of its chief inn, where the Squire expected +to see his second horse waiting for him, if his groom had reached the +point. The hounds swept across the common no farther than a couple of +hundred yards away, going as strong as ever, and even the time lost in +riding that distance away from their line and changing horses might +lose him the good place he had hitherto kept. + +But there was no horse waiting for him, and with angry despair settling +down on him he sat and saw the hounds disappear out of sight and the +few who still kept with or near them following at ever-increasing +intervals. Dick was one of them. He was riding Roland, the best +horse, not a weight carrier, in the Kencote stables, who was quite +capable of carrying him to the end of the great run that now seemed +certain; for the fox had not turned aside towards the nearer coverts +and must have had Trensham in his cunning mind since he had first set +out. Dick waved a hand to him as he galloped past. There was no sign +of Virginia; on such an occasion as this women, even the best beloved, +must look after themselves. + +The Squire fussed and fumed, and Kenilworth, his blood thoroughly up, +could hardly be held, so anxious was he to go on with what he had +begun. In another second he would have let him have his way, but just +as he was about to do so he saw his man coming up the road, controlling +as best he could the antics of his horse, which had got wind somehow of +the passing of the hounds, in spite of the silence in which they were +now running. The Squire beckoned him to hurry his pace and as he came +up jumped off Kenilworth and on to Bay Laurel with all the activity he +might have shown on that memorable run of five-and-thirty years before, +and was off on to the turf in a twinkling. But not before he had seen, +out of the corner of his eye, Virginia, sailing gaily along on her +black mare, just behind him. + +In a moment he had forgotten her; Bay Laurel was as fresh as if he had +just left his stable, for the groom had brought him along steadily +according to instructions, the fulfilment of which, however, had been +like to have cost him his place. The Squire felt the spring and lift +of the powerful frame under him, as, keeping him well in hand, and +riding as if he had been five stone lighter and had not forsaken the +hunting saddle for weeks past, he pounded the short, springy turf and +sent it flying now and again far behind him. There was a brook to take +just beyond the village, wide enough to have given him at his age +occasion for thought if it had come earlier in the day, and set him +casting about in his mind for the whereabouts of the nearest bridge. +But he went straight at it, and Bay Laurel took it like a skimming +swallow. Then came a five-barred gate--the only way from one field +into another, unless valuable time was to be wasted--and the Squire had +not jumped a five-barred gate since he had ridden thirteen stone. But +he jumped it now, and felt a fierce joy, as he galloped across the +meadow grass, at the surging up in him of his vanished youth, and all +the fierce delights that such days as this had brought him in years +gone by. He was as good as ever. His luck was in. There must be some +check before long, and a check, however short, would bring him within +sight of them. + +A sudden memory born of his long past experience came to him. In a +field or two he would come to a footpath which led across stiles +through what had then been a peninsula of plough-land sticking out into +the pastures. The old mid-Victorian fox had stuck to the grass and +gone round the heavy land in a wide circle. If the Edwardian fox +should take the same line, that footpath would cut off half a mile, and +he made up his mind to follow it. + +Ah! There it was--the path across the crest of the field, the stile, +and, beyond the hedge to the left, the dark plough ribbons and the +footway running down them. He jumped the stile and cantered carefully +down the narrow path, well content to go slow for the advantage to be +gained. Bay Laurel hopped over another stile and they were on grass +again and galloping freely, still keeping to the line of the scarcely +discernible field path. They topped a short rise, and the Squire just +caught sight of the hounds topping another away to the right. His +heart gave another bound of gratitude. He would be up with them yet. +There was the next stile and he knew the line to take. He was already +in front of some of those who had passed him waiting before the inn. + +But his time had come. The last stile was flanked by a high thick +fence, on the other side of which, although he could not see it, was a +ditch wider and deeper than ordinary. There was nothing formidable +about the stile itself; it was no higher than the two Bay Laurel had +just hopped over in his stride, but looked rather more dilapidated. +Just as the horse was rising to it, he saw that the ditch on the other +side ran right along and was crossed by a plank, and although the horse +saw it too and was preparing for it, he instinctively checked him, and +then saw that it was too late. Bay Laurel blundered into the rotten +woodwork, and the Squire pitched forward over his shoulder, and the +next moment had rolled into the ditch with the stile, but fortunately +not the horse, on top of him. + +The ditch was newly dug and nearly dry, or he might have been drowned, +for he was wedged closely in and could hardly stir. Bay Laurel had +jammed the timbers down upon him, and without waiting to consider the +damage he had done was now off in the wake of the hounds, which he also +had seen topping the distant rise. The Squire was left alone, +powerless to extricate himself, in the remote stillness of the fields. + +He had heard a crack, different somehow from the crack of the timbers, +as he fell, but did not at first connect it with broken bones of his +own. It was not until he realised that his left arm and shoulder were +lying under a beam in a very strange and uncomfortable position, and +tried to move them, that he knew what had happened to him and began to +feel any pain. Then he felt, suddenly, a good deal, not only in his +shoulder, but in his side, upon which a corner of the stile was +pressing, and thought he had broken every bone in his body. + +The pain and the shock and the loneliness frightened him. Unless help +came he was likely to die at the bottom of this ditch, and he had a +moment of blind terror before he lifted up his voice and called for +help most lustily. + +There was an instant answer. Virginia, who had followed his lead +across the plough, at some little distance, because she knew he would +not like her riding in his pocket, came through the gap, and drew rein +by his side. She was off her horse in a moment and trying her hardest +to lift the heavy timbers off him. But she only succeeded in shifting +their weight from one part of his body to another, and under his +agonised expostulations soon desisted. She stood up, white and +terror-stricken, the reins of her mare over her arm, and cried, "Oh, I +must get the weight off you, and then I will go for help." + +Then she tried again, and did succeed in easing him a trifle, whereupon +he fainted, but soon came to again, to find her with her hat full of +water sprinkling his forehead. "I'm all right now for a bit," he said. +"Go and get somebody. Can you mount?" + +"Yes, if you don't look," she said. + +She led her horse a little way out into the field, threw herself across +the saddle, and scrambled up somehow. Then she set off at a gallop +towards the chimneys of a farm peeping above a grove of trees a quarter +of a mile away. + +The Squire lay still, and looked up into the sky. Except for the +aching in his neck he was now free from pain, and having tested by +movement all the muscles of his body, was relieved to find that he had +got off rather lightly after all. It was an awkward, and rather an +absurd predicament to be in, but with the certainty of getting free +very shortly, he was not overmuch disposed to grumble at it. +Virginia's appearance had been providential, and she had been as +concerned for him as he was for himself. The stile was an old and very +solid one, and had come down on him _en masse_. It was doubtful +whether a man could have done more with it, single-handed, than she had +done, and a man might not have thought of loosening his stock and +fetching water when he had fainted. He had never fainted before. It +was a curious, not wholly unpleasant, sensation. He allowed his +thoughts to dwell on it, idly, as he lay still, staring up at the sky, +not now in great discomfort. + +He became aware of something soft under his head. When he had first +fallen into the ditch he had lain with his head in the mud and had had +to raise it to see what he could now see comfortably. His right arm +had been disengaged, and he put up his hand to feel what it was that +was beneath him. He felt warm silk and the smooth hardness of Melton +cloth, and then he remembered that Virginia had looked rather curious +as to her attire when he had come to himself after his little fainting +fit. She had taken off her jacket and propped up his head with it. At +that discovery he arrived definitely at the point of liking her. + +It was not long before he heard her calling to him, and then the trot +of her horse across the grass. "They are coming in a moment," she +cried out as she rode up to him; "two men from the farm, and they will +get you free in no time." + +He looked at her a little curiously, and she blushed as she met his +gaze. When a woman has taken off the coat of her riding habit she has +begun to undress, and whatever comes next to it is not meant for the +public gaze. But she had not cared about that. If she had he would +not have been lying with a pillow under his head and she looked down +upon him, so to speak, in her shirt sleeves. + +"Put on your coat before they come," said the Squire. "I'm all right +now; and thank you." + +The two farm labourers who came running up the meadow made short work +of pulling the stile off him, and Virginia helped him to rise and to +climb out of the ditch. He stood on the grass stiff, and rather dazed, +with his left arm hanging uselessly, and she supported him for a +moment, until he said, "I'm all right now. I'll walk over to the farm, +and perhaps they'll lend me something to take me home in." + +"The farmer has gone for the doctor," she said, "and they are going to +send a pony carriage up for you. See, I've brought a rug for you to +sit on till they come." + +She spread it on the ground, and he sat down heavily, giving an +exclamation of pain as he jarred the broken bone. Virginia knelt +beside him and put the handkerchief she had already damped to his brow. +But he hitched himself away from her. He did not want the men, now +staring at him with bovine concern, to see him dependent on a woman. +"Don't bother any more," he said. "I'm all right now." + +She got him to the farm, the doctor, who happened to be in the village, +bound up his arm, a fly was procured, and he set off for home, +Virginia, who had left her horse at the farm, by his side. By the time +they had gone, half-way, his accident now being known, a neighbour's +motor-car was sent to meet him, and in it they performed the rest of +the journey. But he refused to allow Virginia to send a telegram. +"It'll only upset 'em," he said, "and there's nothing the matter with +me now." + +And that was why he arrived in on his wife and daughters and himself +brought the news that there was nothing to make a fuss about. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +PROPERTY + +It may be imagined that the high favour in which Virginia was now held +was extremely gratifying to Dick. "I knew you could do it if you +tried," he said, smiling down on her, his arm round her shoulder, "and, +by Jove, you've done it to some tune. He wouldn't have any one else +now for a daughter-in-law, if I were to offer him his pick of the royal +princesses of Europe." + +"He's an old dear," said Virginia. "You didn't give me in the least a +true picture of his character." + +Dick laughed. He could afford to let this feminine charge go by. "He +wants me to talk business with him this evening, after dinner," he +said. "But he wants to talk to you again first, in spite of the fact, +that he's been talking to you nearly all day. Mind you keep calm, my +girl. We're not going to throw up our job yet awhile. If he wants us +here he'll have to wait for us." + +Virginia went up with Mrs. Clinton to the big room, in the big bed of +which the Squire was sitting propped up with pillows, in a camel's-hair +dressing-gown, the seams of which had been slit up and tied again over +his bound-down arm. + +"Ah, here you are," he said in his usual hearty tone. "Nina, I want a +word or two with Virginia. She'll call you when she goes." + +Mrs. Clinton took her dismissal and Virginia her seat in a low chair by +the bed, facing him. + +"Look here," he said; "no good beating about the bush any longer. +We're very good friends now, and I hope we shall remain so all our +lives. But there's no good disguising that we've been at +cross-purposes, and I want all that put right now. Let's look facts in +the face. It was more my fault than yours, I dare say, but there have +been faults on both sides, and we shan't gain anything by pretending +that we've all behaved as we ought to have done." + +"You're quite right," said Virginia, smiling at him. "I'll listen to +anything you have to say, and you might begin by telling me where my +fault has been." + +"Eh! what!" exclaimed the Squire. "Well, I suppose you won't deny that +you came down here to steal a march on me?" + +"I wanted to know you," said Virginia sweetly. "I knew I should love +you if I did. And I was quite right. I do know you now, and I do love +you, better than any other man, except Dick." + +The Squire thought this a very pretty speech, and, as it came from a +very pretty woman, its effect on him was beneficial. "Well, you have +taken a liking to me," he said, "and I have taken a liking to you. So +we're quits, and it's a pity both of us didn't do it before, for I tell +you frankly I have made certain promises which I shouldn't have made if +I had felt about you as I do now, and I don't quite see how I can get +out of them." + +"You mean about money?" said Virginia. "Dear Mr. Clinton, please don't +worry any more about that. Dick and I have got over whatever +disappointment we may have felt about it--_I_ never felt any at all +except for his sake--long ago. He has been lucky in getting this job, +and we shall be as comfortable as possible." + +"This job!" repeated the Squire, with much distaste of the word. "Dick +oughtn't to be wanting a job at all, and he won't be wanting one now. +He must give it up." + +"I don't think he will do that at once," said Virginia. "He will +consider himself bound, for a time at least, to Mr. Spence. However, +that needn't worry you. We shall hope to be here a good deal, if you +want us, and later on we may be able to be here, or hereabouts, +altogether, if you still want us." + +"Of course I want you," said the Squire. "I've wanted Dick all along, +in the place to which he belongs; I've never felt comfortable about +Humphrey taking his place, and as for my Lady Susan, I shall be very +pleased to welcome her as a daughter-in-law, but, if you want the +truth, my dear, you're worth six of her, and if _you_ can't live here, +well, I won't have _her_, and that's flat. I'll keep the place empty." + +"Oh, but surely!" exclaimed Virginia. "You've promised, haven't you? +Humphrey told me it was arranged that he should live in the dower-house +when he was married." + +"He did, did he? Seems to me Master Humphrey is counting his chickens +before they are hatched. No, I never promised. I never promised him +anything. At least, I believe I did promise him a certain allowance, +which is to be increased from another quarter. But beyond that nothing +was said definitely." + +"No, but it was implied. Oh, Mr. Clinton, please don't make us the +cause of disappointment to others. We don't want it. We shall be very +well off as it is. We don't want any more, really we don't. Dick has +a fine position, handsomely paid, and I have money of my own too, you +know, and a good deal of it." + +For the first time the Squire frowned. "I suppose you have," he said +shortly. "But to tell you the plain truth, I don't like the quarter it +comes from, and I very much doubt if Dick does either." + +"I don't much, either," said Virginia, smiling to herself. + +"I'm glad of that, at any rate. No, you're loyal enough to Dick. +You'll be able to forget the past; it hasn't soiled you. That's what I +was afraid of, and I see I was wrong. Still, this money--it's stuck in +my throat as much as anything." + +"Well, then," said Virginia, "it need not stick in your throat any +longer. I know what you think as to where it came from. Dick thought +the same, and it stuck in his throat too, till I told him the truth. +Now I'll tell it to you. It's my own money, every cent of it, and it +came to me after--after my husband died. I have nothing that comes +from him. I wouldn't keep it if I had. I'm an heiress, Mr. +Clinton--not a very heavily gilded one, it's true, and the money my +uncle left me was made out of pork-packing, which is a dreadful thing +to talk about in this house. Still, you must forget that. Only the +capital sum comes from pork, and it's all invested in nice clean things +like railways." + +The Squire stared at her during this recital as if fascinated. The +moment was almost too solemn for words. "Well, my dear," he said after +a short pause, "you lifted one weight from me yesterday, and now you've +lifted another, and a bigger one. Go away, and leave me to think about +it." + +He thought about it for some time after she had left him, propped up on +his pillows, his mind growing ever lighter. In the midst of all his +perversities, his dislike of the thought of his son living, in part, on +money that had come from "that blackguard" had been an honourable and +unselfish feeling, and the removal of the fear swept away with it every +other trace of his long-nurtured objections to Virginia as a wife for +Dick. Now all he desired was that Dick should return to his honoured +place at Kencote, and all should be as it had been before, with only +the addition of Virginia's charming presence to complete the happiness +of the tie. He did not think at all about Humphrey, nor of the new +interests on which, a week or so before, he had been anxious to pin his +anticipations. + +But Humphrey had to be thought of, all the same. Mrs. Clinton, coming +into his room, said that Humphrey would like to come and see him and +have a talk, and asked if he felt well enough to talk to him. + +"Oh, well enough? Yes," he said. "Never felt better in my life. I've +a good mind to get up for dinner. Nina, Virginia has just told me +something that I wish I had known before. It has pleased me beyond +measure." + +He imparted to her Virginia's disclosure, and she expressed herself +pleased too, wondering a little at the ways of men about money, that +potent disturber of lives. + +"That removes every difficulty," he said. "And I'm very glad of it, +for Dick's sake. I don't know how much it is and I haven't asked her, +but she must be pretty well off. Dick won't need it, but it's always +useful." + +"It will make it easier to do what you promised for Humphrey," said +Mrs. Clinton. + +"For Humphrey?" he echoed. "Oh yes. Fifteen hundred a year is a +pretty big allowance for a younger son. He's a lucky fellow, Master +Humphrey. Did you say he wanted to see me? Well, send him up." + +Humphrey came in, and stood by his father's bedside. + +"Well, my boy!" said the Squire pleasantly. + +"Picking up all right, I hope?" said Humphrey. "Might have been a +nasty business." + +"Sit down," said the Squire. "I've just heard a thing that has pleased +me amazingly. Funny how one gets an idea into one's head when there's +no foundation for it!" Then he told Humphrey about Virginia's money. + +Humphrey had not much to say in answer to the information, but sat +thinking. + +"Well, now," said the Squire, with the air of one turning from thoughts +of pleasure to thoughts of business. "Of course, all this makes a +difference. Dick and I have had a row--you may put it like that if you +please--and we've made it up. He'll come back here, I hope, and settle +down, and things will be as they were before. I don't think you're cut +out for a country life altogether, and dare say you won't be sorry for +the change. So it will suit us all pretty well, taking one thing with +another, eh?" + +Humphrey said nothing for a moment. Then he asked shortly, "Do you +mean that I'm not to have the dower-house, after all?" + +"Have the dower-house?" repeated the Squire, as if that were the last +thing that had ever crossed his mind. "When did I ever say that you +were to have the dower-house? It isn't mine to give you. It goes with +the property--to Dick eventually; you know that perfectly well." + +"Oh yes, I know that," said Humphrey, with some impatience. "I meant, +have it to live in. That's what was arranged, and I told Susan so, and +Lady Aldeburgh." + +"Then I think you were in a bit of a hurry," said the Squire. "I told +you I should settle nothing till Dick's marriage." + +Humphrey found it difficult to keep his temper. "If you'll excuse my +saying so," he said, with a slight tremor in his voice, "we've been +talking of nothing else for weeks past, and as to what part I was to +take in the management of the place. I'd every right to tell them that +at Thatchover." + +"Well, perhaps you had," assented the Squire tolerantly. "And I don't +go so far as to say that you can't live there for a bit either. I want +Dick and Virginia to live there, and I tell you so plainly, and I shall +do all I can to persuade him to. But he may think he's bound to this +fellow, Spence, for six months or so, and if you get married in time, +and care to occupy the house for a bit and keep it warm for him, well, +you'll be very welcome. But, on the whole, I think you'd be wiser to +settle down where you're going to stay. With the very handsome +allowance I'm going to make you, and what old Aunt Laura has promised +to add to it, and whatever Susan brings you, though I dare say that +won't be much, you'll be exceptionally well off, and can live pretty +well where you like." + +Humphrey choked down his anger. "What about Partisham?" he asked, but +it was an unwise question, for whatever definite arrangement the Squire +had had in his mind and allowed to be talked about, Partisham had not +come into it, although it was true that he had let it be seen what was +in his mind. + +"Do you mean to say you want me to leave Partisham away from Dick, and +give it to you?" he asked. + +"I want you to keep to your promises," replied Humphrey doggedly. +"You've been feeding me up for the last month with all sorts of +statements as to what you were going to do for me; then you suddenly +make it up with Dick, and want to kick me out altogether, and expect me +to take it all without a word, and consider myself lucky. I call it +grossly unfair. I haven't only myself to think of. You even want to +chuck the arrangement that you say I'd a perfect right, relying on what +you said, to tell Susan about." + +"I think you're most infernally ungrateful," said the Squire angrily. +"Point me out another younger son in England who is given two thousand +a year to set up house on." + +"That doesn't all come from you," said Humphrey, "and there are plenty +of younger sons whose fathers are as rich as you who would get that. +Besides, that isn't the point. If that's all you'd said you'd do for +me, I'd have said thank you and cut my coat according to my cloth. But +you know quite well it isn't all. The dower-house was a definite +understanding at any rate, and if you didn't mean that Partisham was to +come to me eventually, and Checquers come either to me or go to Walter, +then your words don't mean anything at all." + +The accusation had too much truth in it even for the Squire to +contradict it altogether. "Partisham is likely to be one of the best +bits of the whole estate," he said. "In ten years' time half of it +will be building land, and even with these wicked taxes, it will be a +very valuable piece of property. It isn't likely, now Dick has come to +reason, that I'm going to leave it away from him, and you oughtn't to +expect it." + +"Now Dick has come to reason!" repeated Humphrey bitterly. "Dick +stands exactly where he's always stood. It's you who've changed your +mind, and you expect me to fall in and take it smiling. I say again, +it's grossly unfair." + +"That's not the way to talk to me," said the Squire hotly. "You're +forgetting yourself. If you're not precious careful you won't get the +money I'd put aside for you, let alone anything else." + +Humphrey got up from his chair. "I'd better go," he said. "If your +word means nothing at all, I may as well break off my engagement. I +thought it was good enough to get married on," and he left the room. + +The Squire lay and fumed. A pretty return he was getting for all he +had promised to do for Humphrey! Was ever such ingratitude? His mind +dwelt wholly on the very handsome provision that was to be made for his +immediate marriage, and he grew more and more indignant as he asked +himself, again and yet again, what younger son of a plain country +gentleman could possibly expect more. At last he rang his bell and +told his servant to ask Captain Clinton to come to him. + +But before Dick arrived Mrs. Clinton came in again, and to her he +unburdened himself of some of his indignation at Humphrey's ingratitude. + +She heard him without comment, and then said slowly, "I think Humphrey +and Susan ought to have the dower-house, Edward." + +"What!" exclaimed the Squire. "Turn Dick out of the place that has +always been his, and put a younger son into it! You say I ought to do +that, Nina? What can you be thinking of?" + +"_Has_ Dick's place always been his, Edward?" she asked, with her calm +eyes on his. + +"What do you mean?" he snapped at her; and then went on quickly in his +loud, blustering tone, "Dick and I fell out, it's true, and if he had +married without my sanction I should have acted in a way I'm not going +to act now. I've come round--I don't deny I've come round--to be in +favour of his marriage, and I'm not going to make him suffer for the +misunderstanding." + +At this point Dick came into the room, and the Squire said, "Well, I'll +talk to you later, Nina. I want to get things settled up with Dick +now." + +But Dick looked at her kindly. "Mother may as well stay and take a +hand in the discussion," he said. "We owe it to her that we're all +friends again, and I think she's got a better head than any of us." + +"Your mother was just saying," said the Squire, "that I ought to let +Humphrey and Susan have the dower-house. I'm not going to do anything +of the sort. There _was_ a sort of an understanding that they should +live there when I thought you and I weren't coming together again. I +had to make _some_ arrangements. But even if I didn't want you there, +I don't know that I should consent to it now. Humphrey has taken up a +most extraordinary attitude, and I'm very much annoyed with him. He's +going to be most handsomely treated, more handsomely than he could ever +have expected. Yet he's just been up here and flung out of the room in +a rage because I won't promise to leave him Partisham, if you please." + +"Leave him what?" asked Dick. + +"Partisham; and all the land that came in with it; and Checquers too. +No, I'm wrong; I'm instructed to leave that to Walter. I say it's a +scandalous position for a son to take up. I'm not an old man, and I +hope I've got a good many years to live yet, and I'm to have my sons +quarrelling already about what I'm to do with my property after I'm +dead." + +"I suppose he saw his chance when I was out of favour," said Dick, "and +is wild because what he hoped for didn't come off. What did you +actually promise to do for him?" + +"I promised to make him an allowance of fifteen hundred a year, and I'm +prepared to keep my word, of course." + +"Well, that's pretty good to begin with." + +"But, good gracious me, that isn't all of what he's going to have. Old +Aunt Laura is going to give him another five hundred, and she's +consulted me about leaving him the bulk of her money when she goes." + +"Aunt Laura! Five hundred a year!" exclaimed Dick, in utter surprise. +"Can she do it?" + +The Squire gave a short laugh. "I might have known that the old ladies +had saved a good deal," he said, "but I never thought much about it. +At any rate that's a definite offer from her--the allowance, I mean. +Whether I let her make a will almost entirely in his favour, is another +matter; and if he doesn't behave himself I shall do all I can to stop +it." + +"He must have been pretty clever in getting round her," said Dick. "I +know he's been working hard at it. Rather a dirty trick, to my +mind--working on an old woman for her money. Still, different people +have different ideas. Did you promise him the dower-house?" + +The Squire began humming and hahing, and Mrs. Clinton broke in. "It +was a very definite understanding," she said. "I must take Humphrey's +part there. It was understood that he should give up the Foreign +Office as soon as possible, and settle down here to help look after the +property." + +"_If_ things had been as we then feared they would be," said the +Squire. "That was always understood." + +Mrs. Clinton was silent, and Dick said, rather unwillingly, "You'd +better let him have the dower-house--say for two years. I can't throw +Spence over now, and I can't do my best for him under that." + +The Squire expostulated loudly. He wanted Dick and Virginia near him. +He was getting on in years. He might be in his grave in two years' +time. But Dick remained firm. "I don't want to rake up old scores," +he said. "But you mustn't forget that until a week or so ago you were +going to cut me off with a shilling. I had to find a job, and I was +precious lucky to get this one. I owe something to the fellow who gave +it to me." + +"I think you do," Mrs. Clinton said before the Squire could speak; +"and, Edward, I think you must remember, in justice to Humphrey, that +what applies to Dick applies to him too. You took a certain course, +very strongly, and both Dick and Humphrey acted on it." + +"I don't want to hear any more about Humphrey," said the Squire. "I +don't want him in the dower-house, nor Susan either." + +"Well, you must settle that with him," said Dick. "I dare say he'll be +quite ready to make a bargain with you. He seems rather good at it. +He hasn't concerned himself much with my side of the question, and I'm +not going to stick up for his, especially as he comes off so well, +anyhow." + +That was practically the end of the discussion, and the Squire was left +lamenting the frowardness of human nature. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +BROTHERS + +When Dick went downstairs again he said to Virginia, "Put on your hat +and let's go and have tea with old Aunt Laura." She went obediently +upstairs, and presently they were walking down the drive together in +the gathering dusk. + +"Is everything going to be all right?" Virginia asked him. "Are we +quite forgiven, and is our own to be restored to us?" + +"I don't think we shall have much difficulty in getting all we're +entitled to," replied Dick. + +Virginia put her arm into his. "It's nearly dark and nobody's about," +she said in apology. "Dear Dick, it is nice to be here on these terms. +I do really feel that I belong to you, now--and to Kencote." + +Dick pressed her hand to his side. "I nearly had to give up Kencote to +get you," he said. "Now I've got you _and_ Kencote, and I've nothing +left to ask for. My experience in life is that you generally get all +you want if you go to work in a straightforward way." + +"Then your experience in life is a very fortunate one," replied +Virginia. "I've never had what I wanted before, although I think I've +been fairly straightforward. But I've got it now, dear Dick, and _I_ +won't ask for anything further, either. I feel very happy and +comfortable, and if we weren't near the lodge I should lift up my voice +in song." + +Aunt Laura was, it is needless to say, both flattered and genuinely +pleased at their visit, for this modest old lady liked company, but was +diffident of her own powers of attracting it. "This is the nicest +thing that could have happened," she said, when she had settled down in +close proximity to her tea-table. "The dear children came in this +morning with their new governess--a very competent person, I should +say, though not quite so respectful in her manner as Miss Bird used to +be--not that she was in any way _rude_, I don't mean that, but Miss +Bird was always cheerful and bright, and yet knew her place; and +Humphrey paid me a visit this afternoon; so I said to myself as I sat +down to tea, 'I have had two very pleasant visits to-day and can hardly +hope for a third. I must drink my tea by myself.' However, here you +both are, and I am very pleased indeed to see you, very pleased indeed. +Your dear father is none the worse since I last had word, I hope, Dick?" + +"He's as well as can be, and talks about getting up for dinner," +replied Dick. + +"Oh, indeed, he must not do that," said Aunt Laura earnestly. "It +would be the greatest mistake. He has such courage and vitality that +he cannot realise what a terrible shock he has undergone. His only +chance, if he is to escape all ill effects from it, is to keep as quiet +as possible for a long time yet. I am sure when I think of what +_might_ have happened to him, if you, my dear, had not been, so +mercifully, on the spot, I go cold all over. Indeed, his escape was, +in the highest sense of the word, providential, and I am sure we are +all deeply grateful for it, and can lift up our hearts in thanksgiving. +Humphrey told me the whole story, in the most graphic way, and while it +made me shudder it also made me rejoice, that you were there, my dear, +to give such ready assistance. He made much of it." + +"That was very kind of him," said Virginia. "But it was nothing to +make much of. I only went for help. And I've been well rewarded, you +know. Mr. Clinton didn't like me much before, and now he likes me very +much indeed. That makes me very happy." + +"Of course it does," said Aunt Laura kindly. "Edward is a man whose +good opinion is worth having, for he does not give it without reason, +but, once given, it can be depended on. Well, as I say, it is very +good of you to come and see me. I'm sure the kind and thoughtful way +in which I am treated by one and all is highly gratifying. You have +not met Susan Clinton, I think, dear Humphrey's bride that is to be? +She also visited me frequently while she was at Kencote, and Humphrey +comes to see me every day. Since you are unable to live here, Dick, I +am very glad that we shall have him and his wife in our old home. I +shall be very glad to see the dear place lived in again, for I spent +many happy years of my life there." + +"Has he settled how he's going to arrange the rooms?" asked Dick, in a +tone that made Virginia look at him, although Aunt Laura noticed +nothing unusual in the question. + +"Yes, he has talked a good deal about it," she said, "and I have given +him advice upon the matter, some of which he thinks it quite likely +that he will take." + +"I hear you've been very generous to him, Aunt Laura," Dick said. + +"Oh, but there was no need for him to have said anything to you about +that," said Aunt Laura. "I wanted to help him to marry the girl he +loved, and it was quite true that a girl of her rank--not that her +branch of the family is better than ours, but they have rank and we +have not, although I have no doubt that we _could_ have had it if we +had wished--would expect rather more in her marriage than other girls, +and I told Humphrey that I quite understood that, as he seemed rather +low about his prospects. I didn't want your dear father to have all +the burden, and he has responded wonderfully to my offer. I am only +glad that it was possible for me to help Humphrey in his desire, and +that it should be possible for me to do so without doing _you_ or any +of the others an injustice, Dick; for I know you are well provided for, +and will not grudge your brother his share of good things." + +"I don't grudge him anything that he's entitled to have," replied Dick. +"Now I want you to tell Virginia about Kencote in the old days, when my +great-grandfather was alive. She wants to hear all about Kencote that +she can." + +Aunt Laura was nothing loath, and poured forth a gentle stream of +reminiscence until it was time for Dick and Virginia to go. + +As they let themselves out of the house and walked down the dark +village street, Dick said, "Humphrey ought to be kicked. Fancy +sponging on that simple old woman! and getting her to leave the bulk of +her money to him, and away from the rest of us; because that's what it +means. I'll have it out with him as soon as I get home." + +"Oh, my dear!" said Virginia. "Money, money, money! What does it +matter to us? We shall have plenty." + +"We shouldn't have had plenty, or anything like it, if he'd had his +way. It isn't only old Aunt Laura he's been working on. He's taken +advantage of my being out of favour to get the governor to consider +leaving the best part of the property to him. He was actually at it +this afternoon. He tried to get a definite promise out of him to leave +him Partisham, which will be worth all the rest put together some day." + +"But, Dick dear! you knew all that. It was your father's own decision. +You told me so." + +"Humphrey had no right to take advantage of his threats to work against +me. That's what he's been doing. It wasn't like the governor. I can +see a good deal more daylight now. I thought I'd only got his +obstinacy to fight against. Now I see I've had an enemy at court, +who's been playing the sneak all along." + +"I don't think so," Virginia said boldly. "Humphrey isn't bad. He has +been very nice to me. He told me he was glad that all this quarrelling +was at an end." + +"I dare say he did," said Dick, unsoftened. "Now he sees that we can't +be kept out of it any longer he'd like to curry favour." + +"Oh, what an uncharitable Dick! That's not like you, Dick. We're +going to be happy together, aren't we, my own beloved?" She was +walking with her hands clasped over his arm. + +"I hope so," said Dick. + +"Well, then, think of him a little too. _He_ loves a woman, and wants +to be happy with her." + +"Oh, love! I don't believe he loves her the least in the world. I +know her well enough. She's an insipid clothes-peg. I don't believe +he'd look at her if she hadn't got a title. He's like that. I don't +know where he gets it from. The governor likes a title too, but not in +that rotten way." + +"You didn't choose me for _my_ title, did you?" asked Virginia. + +He laughed at her. "Your title will disappear when you marry me," he +said. "Mrs. Richard Clinton will have to do for you, my girl, for the +present." + +"You never told me that," she said. "And I do love being called 'my +lady.' Americans do. However, I would rather be Mrs. Richard Clinton +than what I am now. But, Dick dear, please don't have a row with +Humphrey. Please don't. Let's try and make everybody happy. He must +be feeling disappointed, and perhaps angry. We can afford to be +generous." + +"I'll tell him what I think of him," said Dick. + +"Then tell him what you really think of him. He's your brother. You +have been friends all your lives. Tell him, if you must, that you +don't think he has behaved well. But don't tell him that you think it +isn't in his nature to behave well. There's a good deal to be said for +him. Let him say it. And, even if there wasn't----" + +"Well, I don't think there is. He's behaved in a selfish, underhand +way." + +"Supposing he has, Dick! Make allowances for him. He's done himself +more harm than he's done you. We ought to be sorry for people who have +done wrong. That's what I believe Christianity means." + +"Oh, well, yes; if they're sorry for it themselves." + +"You can make them so; but not by being angry with them. It isn't hard +to forgive people when they admit they're in the wrong. It is hard, +otherwise, but that doesn't make it any less right to do it. I'm +preaching, but we're going to be always together, Dick, and you must +put up with a little sermon sometimes." + +"You're a sweet saint, Virginia, but what on earth are you asking me to +do? Am I to go to Humphrey and say, 'You've acted like a cur, but I +forgive you; take all that you can get that has always been looked upon +as mine, and let's say no more about it'?" + +"Oh, don't talk about the money or the property at all. Let that look +after itself. Only remember that you were little boys together, and +were very fond of each other, as I'm sure you were; and remember that +you have been made happy, and he has been disappointed. That ought to +make you kind. And you can be so kind, Dick." + +"I believe you think I can be everything that's good." + +"I know you can. And it will make me love you even more than I do now, +if that's possible, if you make friends with Humphrey, instead of +quarrelling with him for good. After all, we're rather tired of +quarrels, aren't we?" + +"I think we are," said Dick. + +He did not see Humphrey alone until the women had gone to bed. He had +gone up to his father when they had left the dining-room, and Humphrey +had avoided speaking to him, if he could help it, all the evening. +Otherwise he had taken his part in the mild gaiety of the conversation +and hidden his wounds gallantly. He was going upstairs with his candle +when Dick said to him, "Are you coming into the smoking-room?" + +He looked at him with a momentary hostility. "Yes, when I've changed +my coat," he said. + +"Mine's down here," said Dick, turning away. + +When his servant had helped him on with his smoking-jacket and gone +away, he stood in front of the fire and filled a pipe. He was ready to +do Virginia's bidding and make friends with Humphrey, but he disliked +the job, and didn't know exactly how he was going to begin. And he was +going to speak plainly too. Humphrey had behaved badly, and he was +going to tell him so--kindly. + +Humphrey came in and lit a cigarette before either of them spoke. As +he threw the match into the fire he said, "I suppose you want to have +it out." + +His tone was not conciliatory. He was both angry and nervous. Dick's +brain cleared as if by magic. He had a situation to control. + +"Well, I think we ought to have a talk," he said. "Things have been +going wrong with me, and now they've come right, and you don't appear +to be quite as much rejoiced at it as you might be." + +"If you put it like that, I'm not rejoiced at all," said Humphrey, "and +I'm not going to pretend to be." + +"But you told Virginia you were," Dick put in. + +Humphrey was for a moment disconcerted. "I'm glad as far as she's +concerned," he said. "She oughtn't to have been treated as she has +been, and I've always said so." + +"Oh, have you?" commented Dick. + +Humphrey flushed angrily. "If you think I've been working against +you," he said, "it's quite untrue." + +"Well, you've been working for your own hand, and it comes to much the +same thing." + +"I haven't even been doing that. The governor made me a lot of +promises, and I didn't ask him to make one of them." + +"What about Partisham?" + +"You know as well as I do that he'd definitely made up his mind to +leave as much away from you as he could, and that was the chief thing +he had to leave away. I didn't ask him to do it, but----" + +"It didn't occur to you to ask him not to do it, I suppose? Because +it's a pretty stiff thing to do--to leave away most of what keeps up +the place." + +"No, it didn't occur to me, and it wouldn't have occurred to you if +you'd been in my place. I tell you I didn't ask for anything, except +for enough to get married on. But when it came to having it chucked at +me--well, if you want the plain truth, it happened to suit my book." + +"Yes, I dare say it did. And what about Aunt Laura? You've been doing +pretty well out of her too, haven't you?" + +Humphrey flushed again. "Look here," he said, "I'm not going to talk +to you any longer. You stand there sneering because you've got +everything you want now, and you think you can amuse yourself by +baiting me. I'm going upstairs, and you can do your sneering by +yourself. Only I'll tell you this before I go. I'm going to play my +hand, and I don't care whether I've got you up against me or not. I +consider I've been precious badly treated. I'm encouraged to go and +tell the Aldeburghs all sorts of things about what's going to be done +for me when I'm married, and I come back and am told coolly that none +of it's going to happen at all, and I'm to consider myself d----d lucky +to get just enough to live on." + +"Well, you're going to have a bit more than enough to live on, and +you're welcome to it as far as I'm concerned. And the dower-house +too--for a bit." + +"Thanks very much. I'm likely to take that on--live in a house by your +kind permission and get kicked out the moment you want it for yourself!" + +"You won't get kicked out, as you call it, for two years at least. I +should think that's good enough." + +Humphrey threw a glance at him. He was standing, looking down on the +carpet, with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. + +"Look here," he said, looking up suddenly. "We've had enough of this. +I don't think you've acted straight, and I was bound to say so before I +said anything else. And now I've said it, I've said it for the last +time. Let's forget all about it. We've been pretty good pals up to +now, and there's no reason why we shouldn't go on being good pals up to +the end of the chapter." + +Humphrey sat down and looked into the fire. "Perhaps I haven't behaved +very well," he said slowly. "It's precious easy to behave well when +you've got everything you want, as you've always had." + +"It may be," said Dick. "Anyhow, you're not going to do so badly now. +If you haven't got all you want, you'll have a good slice of it." + +There was silence between them for a time, and then Humphrey said, "If +you don't want to quarrel, I'm hanged if I do. Only, I must confess I +feel a bit sore. The way the governor swings round from one position +to another's enough to make anybody sick. You've had a dose of it +yourself; you know how you felt before you made it up with him." + +Dick's self-esteem received nourishment from the recollection that he +had not behaved in the same way as Humphrey had, but he did not bring +forward the statement in that form. "It was awkward," he admitted. +"It made him think of doing things that he'd never thought of doing, +and I don't think he'd any right to think of doing. That's why I +haven't the slightest hesitation now in taking back whatever he may +have made use of to offer to--to, well, let's say to you, as a means of +getting his own way. They have always been looked on as coming to me +eventually, and if this disturbance hadn't come about nobody would have +thought of their being disposed of in any other way. So you're really +no worse off than you were before; in fact, you're a good deal better +off, and I'm quite agreeable, as far as it rests with me, that you +should be. Can't you manage to settle it with yourself that what +you're going to have is as much as you could have expected, and give up +trying for the rest?" + +"I dare say I can manage that feat," said Humphrey, "especially as I +suppose I've got to. Still, when you look at it all round, there's a +good deal of difference in my expectations and yours. Two thousand a +year on the one side, and--well, I don't know what, but say ten +thousand a year and a big property on the other." + +"Oh, if you're going to kick against the law of primogeniture--!" said +Dick. "Question is, would you kick at it if you happened to be the +eldest son? If not, you oughtn't to bring it in." + +Humphrey was silent. They had been talking quietly. Hostility had +gone out of their talk, but friendliness had not yet come in. + +Dick seated himself and began again. "Perhaps it isn't for me to say, +now that I've got everything I want, but I do say it all the same, +because I found it out when I didn't think I was going to have +everything I wanted. Money isn't everything. If you have as much as +you can live comfortably on, and something to do, you've just as much +chance of happiness as the next fellow. 'Specially if you're going to +marry the right woman." + +"I dare say you're right," said Humphrey. "If you're disappointed of +something you can always fall back on philosophy. But it's just +because I am going to marry the right woman that I am disappointed. +I'd told her all sorts of things, and she was as ready as I was to +chuck the fun we've both had in London and other places, and settle +down here quietly." + +"Well, my dear good chap!" exclaimed Dick. "If you looked upon it in +that light, what on earth is there to grumble at if you're free now to +live as you like, and anywhere you like? I don't know much about your +young woman, but I should imagine she'd rather settle herself in London +on a couple of thousand a year, which will give you enough to go about +with too, than bury herself down here." + +"I don't think you do know much about her," said Humphrey. "I believe +the general opinion here is that I'm going to marry her without knowing +much about her myself, though what I shall gain by it, considering that +she hasn't got a _sou_, isn't quite clear. However, the general +opinion happens to be wrong." + +Dick felt a little uncomfortable. "She's the one girl in the world for +you, eh?" he said lightly. + +"That's about what it comes to. I know her mother's a fool; and she +suffers by it. But she's quite different herself, and I know what a +jolly good sort she is, if others don't." + +Dick was touched. Humphrey's "poor thing but mine own" opinion of the +girl he was going to marry was so different from the pride he felt in +Virginia. "Well, old chap," he said, "we'll do our best to make her +feel one of the family. We're not a bad lot, take us all round, and if +she wants to, I dare say she'll get to like us. We ought to be able to +have some fun together when we all meet. I like her all right--what +I've seen of her--and now things have been more or less settled up I +should like to see more of her, and so would Virginia. I believe in a +family sticking together, even after they begin to marry off, and +new-comers ought to get a warm welcome. You've been very decent to +Virginia, and she likes you; and I should like to have an opportunity +of ingratiating myself with Susan." + +Humphrey was conquered by this. "You're a jolly good sort, Dick," he +said. "I didn't know you were going to behave like that, or perhaps I +wouldn't have behaved as I have done. I'm not proud of myself, +exactly, now I look back on it, and if you'll forget all about it, as +you said you were ready to do, I'll chuck the whole beastly business, +and we'll go back to where we used to be." + +"There won't be any difficulty about that, old boy," said Dick. "Peace +and goodwill is all _I_ want, and we may as well have it all round." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +MISS BIRD HEARS ALL ABOUT IT + +The twins were meeting a train, but the train was late. They walked up +and down the platform, by the side of which the station-master's arabis +and aubrietia, primroses and daffodils, were making a fine show. It +was the Thursday before Easter, which Miss Bird was coming to spend at +Kencote, Miss Phipp having already departed for a week in lovely +Lucerne; and the twins, out of the innumerable trains they had met, had +never met one with greater pleasure. They had spent an arduous term +with Miss Phipp, with whom they had established relations amicable on +the whole, but not marked by the affection they had felt for Miss Bird; +and although they had rather liked working hard, they had had enough of +it for the present, and enough of Miss Phipp. + +"I wish the train would hurry up. I do want to see the sweet old +lamb," said Joan. "Let's ask Mr. Belper when it's coming." + +The station-master, jovially respectful, told them that she was +signalled, and they wouldn't have long to wait. + +"But I think you ought to see that your trains are up to time," said +Nancy. "Didn't you learn at school that punctuality was a virtue?" + +"Ah! I see you want to have one of your jokes with me, miss," said the +station-master. "I don't know what it's about, but, bless you, have +your laugh. I like to see young ladies enjoying themselves." + +"Thank you very much," said Joan. "But there's nothing to laugh at in +a train being _always_ unpunctual. We want very much to see Miss Bird, +who is coming, and you keep her on the line somewhere between here and +Ganton. You ought to turn over a new leaf, and see that people don't +get disappointed like that." + +"Well, it isn't my fault, miss, and here she comes," said Mr. Belper, +snatching up a metal instrument in shape something between a sceptre +and a door-scraper and hurrying up the platform, as the engine fussed +up the last incline and snorted itself to rest. + +Miss Bird--diminutive, excited, voluble--cast herself out of her +carriage and into the arms of the twins, who gave vent to their +affection in a series of embraces that left her breathless and +crumpled, but blissfully happy. "That will do Joan 'n' Nancy for the +present," she said. "Let me get my things out and then we can have a +nice long talk. Oh dear to find myself at Kencote again it is almost +too good to be true the umbrella on the rack porter and the hat-box my +precious pets how you have grown a brown box with 'E.B.' in the van and +that is all. How do you do Mr. Belper you see I have come back again +once more like a bad penny as they say and how is Mrs. Clinton darlings +and your father and all I have _such_ a lot to hear that I'm sure we +shall never leave off talking until I go away again." + +"Precious lamb!" said Joan tenderly. "_You_ won't leave off talking, +and I could listen to you for ever, like the brook. You're such a +relief after Pipp." + +"We didn't know when we were well off," said Nancy. "We often lie +awake at night and cry for you." + +They were now walking towards the booking-office. "But surely Miss +Phipp isn't _cruel_ to you my pets Mrs. Clinton would never allow that +oh my ticket Mr. Belper now I _know_ I put it somewhere here it is in +my bag and I give up this half and retain the other, good-afternoon ah +to see these nice horses again it is like coming home indeed I have not +ridden in a private carriage since I left Kencote. _Good_-afternoon +William I see you are still here and promoted to the box one more of +the old faces." + +Thus expressing her pleasure, Miss Bird got into the carriage and the +twins after her, and they drove off. + +"Well my pets," she began, "let me take a good look at you many's the +time I've longed to set eyes on you, and you have not altered at all +just a _trifle_ pale I do hope that you have not been working _too_ +hard." + +Joan and Nancy exchanged glances, and then heaved a simultaneous sigh. +They acted habitually so much in accord that the acceptance of an idea +striking them simultaneously could be indicated by a look. "You were +often unkind to us, Starling darling," said Joan plaintively, "although +we've quite forgiven you for it; but in your most headstrong moments +you were never actually cruel." + +"Don't cry, Joan," said Nancy. "We have nearly three weeks' holiday, +and with Starling here we shall be able to forget everything, and be as +happy as possible." + +Miss Bird's face showed perplexed horror. "But surely it isn't +possible----" she began. + +Nancy interrupted her. "I don't mind so much for myself, because I'm +not so tender-hearted as Joan and don't feel things so much, and--oh, +Starling darling, please don't press that arm." + +She winced realistically, and Joan took her up immediately. + +"Nancy, I wonder if there's time to get long sleeves put into our +frocks for to-night. Mother will ask what the marks are, and we +_can't_ tell her a lie, and if we tell her the truth---- Oh, Starling +darling, _don't_ go away from us again. We can't _bear_ it any more;" +and she wept audibly on Miss Bird's inadequate shoulder. + +Miss Bird was too overcome for the moment to give words to her horror, +but she put her arm round Joan, who winced in her turn, and said, "Not +that shoulder," through her convulsive sobs. + +"Don't be silly, Joan," said Nancy firmly. "William will wonder what +is the matter, and you know what you will get if you let it out. +Starling darling, you _won't_ say anything to anybody, will you? It +will be much worse for us if you do, and after all when a bruise gets +blue and green it doesn't hurt so very much." + +"Do you mean to say that she _beats_ you?" exclaimed Miss Bird, her +eyebrows almost up to her hat-brim. "Then I shall go _at once_ to Mrs. +Clinton the _moment_ I get into the house and tell her that----" + +Joan threw her arms round her neck and laughed. "Angel lamb!" she +said, "it's too bad to tease her. She's just as green and sweet as +ever." + +"Oh, why do you spoil everything?" exclaimed Nancy. Then she too +relented and added her embraces to Joan's. "Oh, you're too priceless," +she said. "Are you really glad to see us again?" + +"Well I suppose I must not be angry and I know your naughty ways too +well," said Miss Bird, "but you gave me quite a _turn_ and I suppose +really Miss Phipp is all she should be and you love her very much as +you ought to do and it is only natural that those who are near should +take the place of those who are far." + +"I believe she's really disappointed that Pipp doesn't beat us black +and blue," said Joan. "But she'll never take _your_ place, Starling, +my own. You're the one and only. I suppose you know we're aunts +again. Walter and Muriel have got a boy." + +"A boy!" exclaimed Miss Bird, enraptured. "Now that _is_ good news and +how _delighted_ your father will be the pet how I should like to see +him." + +"Starling _darling_," expostulated Nancy. "You _will_ see him +directly, but father won't like your calling him a pet." + +Miss Bird blushed. "You know very well I should say no such thing, +Nancy," she said; "it was the baby I meant if you repeat that untruth +in the house I shall go _straight_ back where I came from." + +The twins laughed. "Isn't she pathetic and cherubic?" said Joan. +"_We_ haven't seen him yet, though we're going to to-morrow. He was +only born yesterday. We'll take you over." + +"Isn't everybody very pleased?" asked Miss Bird, meaning by "everybody" +the Squire, but not liking to mention his name again. + +"_We_ are," replied Joan, "and so is mother. Father isn't quite +certain about it, although he is glad that he was born at +Mountfield--at the Lodge, you know--instead of at Melbury Park. Unless +Dick or Humphrey have sons he'll succeed to the property, you see, and +it is very important that he should be touched by nothing common or +unclean. We've got such a lot to tell you--all about the weddings and +the rows. Everything is made up now, but we had the very deuce of a +time since you left." + +"Now, Joan," said Miss Bird sharply, "if you talk like that I shall be +sorry I came and I am sure Miss Phipp would be very angry you must act +while she is away as if she were _present_, here we are and I declare +there is dear Mrs. Clinton at the door how pleased I am to see her once +more oh it is almost too much." And she began waving her hand and +bobbing up and down and saying, "Oh how do you do how do you do," until +the carriage drew up under the porch, when she hopped out of it and +received a greeting from Mrs. Clinton which put the seal on her +happiness. + +The Squire came out of his room as they were going into the +morning-room. "Why, Miss Bird!" he exclaimed heartily, "here's a sight +for sore eyes! How de do, Miss Bird, how de do! 'Pon my word, it +looks so natural to see you here that I wonder we ever allowed you to +go. We've got a very learned lady in your place, and a dangerously +attractive one, by George--ha, ha!--but we don't forget you, Miss Bird, +and we often wish you were back again." + +Now could anything have been handsomer than this! as Miss Bird asked of +her sister when she went back home again. From such a man too! who had +so many important things and people to think of. + +"I'm sure Mr. Clinton all your kindness I never shall forget and never +_can_ forget," she began; but Joan and Nancy stopped her by pushing her +into a chair, and the Squire laughed and said, "They don't play tricks +like that with Miss Phipp, the young monkeys! How do you think they're +looking, Miss Bird? Pretty good specimens for Kencote air, eh? Well, +I suppose you've heard all our news--Dick married, and Humphrey going +to be. You've never seen Mrs. Dick, I think; she was after your time." + +"No but she wrote me the kindest possible letter Mr. Clinton when I +sent a small gift to Dick and there was really no necessity for +_anybody_ to write but Dick wrote at once and _she_ wrote too and said +she should hope to see me soon which touched me very deeply and made me +feel that I _knew_ her though I had never seen her." + +"Ah, yes," said the Squire complacently; "she thinks of everybody and +identifies herself with all Dick's interests, and you're not the +_least_ of them, Miss Bird. You'll see her to-night, for they're +dining here, and if you don't take to her out of hand, Miss Bird, I +shall be very much surprised. We're all in love with her here--eh, +children?" + +"Rather!" said the twins in one breath; and Mrs. Clinton said, "They +are at the dower-house for a week or two. Dick is looking after some +other properties, but he has arranged it so that it does not take up +all his time. They live chiefly in Yorkshire, but they will be able to +live at the dower-house for a week or two every now and then, and by +and by we hope that they will be able to live there altogether." + +"And where is Humphrey going to live?" enquired Miss Bird, who had +gathered certain facts from her correspondence with the twins, and had +no wish to be indiscreet, but did wish to know. + +"Oh, he'll settle down in London," said the Squire. "It will suit him +and Lady Susan better; and he's getting on well with his work and has +to be near it," and Miss Bird was too discreet to indicate that she had +heard that he had been going to give up his work. + +"We hope that they will come here often," said Mrs. Clinton. "The idea +was that they should go to the dower-house when Dick and Virginia +didn't want it, but there is plenty of room here, as you know, and they +chose not to have the responsibility of another house." + +Miss Bird was well posted in the general hang of family affairs when +she presently went upstairs with the twins, but it remained for them to +enlighten her on the events that had led up to the existing state of +things. + +They took her to her old room, which had been in the occupancy of Miss +Phipp. "We told mother we were sure you would like to sleep here," +said Joan, "and we've cleared all her things out, and made it just like +it used to be for you." + +"Darlings!" said Miss Bird. "It will be like old times and I shall +scarcely be able to sleep for happiness oh, look at the daffodils under +the trees." + +"We didn't think you'd want to be bothered up with her books," said +Nancy, "so we've put the ones you like instead. _The Pilgrim's +Progress_ and Longfellow and _The Wide, Wide World_. You'll be able to +cry over that to-morrow before you get up." + +Miss Bird was nearly overcome again by these thoughtful preparations +for her happiness. "Now I'll just take off my things pets and then +we'll have a cosey time in the schoolroom I'm so looking forward to +seeing it again you go and take off your things too and I'll come in a +minute." + +"If you would like to look through her photographs," said Nancy, as +they were leaving the room, "they're all in this drawer; but they're +not very interesting. Hullo, here's Hannah--always on the spot when +she isn't wanted, and never there when she is." + +"Indeed, Miss Nancy," said Hannah, "and I suppose I may come and see +Miss Bird without stepping out of my place, which unwilling I should be +to do, and Miss Bird always treating me as a perfect lady, and very +pleased all are to see her back again, high and low." + +"You treat her as a perfect lady, Starling darling, for a minute while +we go and take our things off," said Nancy, "and try and persuade her +to do her work better, or she'll have to go." + +Hannah was left indignantly spluttering something about working her +fingers to the bone and getting small thanks for it, while Miss Bird +soothed her ruffled spirits, and told her that if she didn't know how +to put up with her young ladies' nonsense by this time she wasn't as +sensible as she had thought, but she was delighted to see her again, +and was sure that she was doing her duty as she always had done it. + +A little later she was sitting between the twins on the schoolroom +sofa, having duly expressed her rapture at finding herself once more in +that dear old room. + +"Now we'll tell you all about everything," began Joan. "You heard +father say how much he liked Virginia, didn't you?" + +"Yes," said Miss Bird, "and Mrs. Clinton too and very pleasant it is +when some one comes into a family to be welcomed so _lovingly_ and I +hope you and Nancy are equally fond of her Joan for I am sure she +deserves it so kind and considerate as she has shown herself." + +"We adore her," said Nancy. "It is very easy for people to make us +like them if they take a little trouble. We are very simple-minded." + +"It's a question of chocolates judiciously administered," said Joan. +"But we could do without them from her, because we like her immensely. +Well, you'd hardly believe, from the way father talked, that he +threatened to cut Dick off with a shilling if he married her, could +you?" + +"Now Joan I don't want to listen to any nonsense," said Miss Bird. +"You have taken me in _once_ this evening and let that be enough." + +"But, Starling darling, it's _true_. It wasn't till she saved his life +out hunting that he would put up with her at all. Of course, now he +thinks he always liked her, but that's what he is." + +"I don't wish to hear any more of that tell me about the wedding," said +Miss Bird. + +"Well, if you won't believe it, you won't," said Nancy. "And it +doesn't much matter now, because it is all over, and we are a united +family once more; but you have no idea of the trouble Joan and I had +with them all. Except mother, we were the only ones who kept our +heads." + +"At one time"--Joan took up the tale--"Humphrey was going to be put in +to lord it over us, and sweet Sue Clinton; but directly Dick turned up +and took father in hand we didn't hear any more about that, and they +are going to have a scrumptious flat in town, and we are going up, one +at a time, to stay with them, because they only have one spare room." + +"Sue isn't bad," said Nancy. "We didn't care for her at first, but +she's got a horrible old painted dragon of a mother, and when she's +away from her she's quite decent, and I dare say we shall be able to +make something of her." + +"Now I don't want to hear any more gossip about people Joan 'n' Nancy," +said Miss Bird, "tell me about Dick's wedding." + +"Ivory satin," said Joan, "with sable hats and stoles and muffs, which +Dick gave us, and shower bouquets of violets. We were the admired of +all beholders." + +"Toby Dexter acted as sort of best man to Virginia," said Nancy. +"She's up in Yorkshire now, keeping the house warm for them." + +The twins gave the rest of their news in alternate sentences. + +"Cousin Humphrey gave Virginia away. He was very sweet, and made a lot +of jokes afterwards." + +"It was a very quiet wedding--at Blaythorn. Uncle Tom married them, +and made several mistakes in the service. I suppose he was overcome. +Humphrey was Dick's best man. They hadn't been very good friends at +one time, but they had made it up, and now they like each other very +much." + +"We only had relations staying here for the wedding, except Mr. Spence, +Dick's friend, whose property he is looking after. He was such fun. +We simply loved him. He used to roar at all our jokes, especially at +Nancy's rhapsodies, and we egged him on to make love to Miss Phipp." + +"She was immensely flattered. She said he was a true gentleman, and +when we told him we thought he'd have had a fit." + +"He didn't really make love to her. He was too kind. He used to pay +her a lot of attention, and asked her to teach him to spell." + +"He wrote us a letter when he'd gone back and spelt appearance with one +'p.'" + +"And other mistakes too. But we did adore him." + +"Old Mr. Marsh was at the wedding. We _think_ he proposed to Toby +Dexter afterwards, but she would never tell us. He drank too much +champagne." + +"Now Nancy you are not to say things like that," said Miss Bird, quite +in her old authoritative manner. + +Nancy embraced her warmly. "You're too sweet for words," she said. +"Uncle Herbert and Aunt Emmeline and Angela came. Angela is going to +be married in June at Holy Trinity, Sloane Street, and we're to be +bridesmaids; and to sweet Sue Clinton, too, at St. George's, Hanover +Square. Our portraits will be in the papers, and we'll send you +copies. We shall be much admired." + +"Uncle Herbert was very angelic. He talked about Ibsen to Miss Phipp, +and when she found out that he had been a Liberal member of Parliament +she almost wept for joy. We didn't know she was a Radical before, but +if Uncle Herbert was one, they can't be as bad as father makes out." + +"She's a suffragette too, but she has never been able to answer +father's question, 'Who would cook the dinner on polling-day?'" + +"Well, she's answered it, but father won't listen to her." + +"Aunt Laura is ill. We'll take you to see her to-morrow. She made us +promise to." + +"Oh dear Miss Clinton," broke in Miss Bird, "I do hope it is nothing +serious." + +"She's very old. She can't live much longer, I'm afraid. She +remembers the Battle of Trafalgar, or the Crimean War--I forget which." + +They talked for some time longer, and when Miss Bird went to her room +to dress for dinner it was with a heart full of thankfulness to find +herself still so much beloved, and with a lively curiosity as to what +Virginia would be like when she should presently meet her. + +She and the twins were together in the morning-room when Dick and +Virginia arrived. While the twins were throwing themselves upon +Virginia, Dick came forward grinning and gave her a resounding kiss on +either cheek. "There, old lady," he said. "That's what you deserve +and what you'll get from me now I'm married. Virginia, come and do +likewise." + +Miss Bird, once more, was overcome almost to the point of tears. "I'm +sure this is a very happy day for me," she twittered, but could get no +further. + +"They're all happy days for all of us," said Virginia, who looked +radiant, and not much older than her young sisters-in-law. "The twins +are to bring you down to see me early to-morrow morning, when Dick is +out. I want to hear all about him when he was a little boy, and I'm +sure a very naughty one." + +"Oh indeed," said Miss Bird; "he was high-spirited but as for +naughtiness what I call real naughtiness no child could have been freer +from it." + +"If you think you're going to get anything against me out of Miss Bird, +you may save yourself the trouble and enquire elsewhere," said Dick. +"She thinks there was never such a family as the Clintons, don't you, +Starling?" + +"I think they're rather nice too," said Virginia, with her hands on the +shoulders of Joan and Nancy and her eyes on Dick. + +The Squire coming in at this moment with Mrs. Clinton greeted Virginia +as if she were his daughter, and it being on the stroke of eight +immediately led her in to dinner. He was in the best of spirits, and +talked and laughed, during the whole of the meal, in his old, rather +boisterous fashion. Gone were the moody silences and the frowning +perplexity of a few months back. He had not, apparently, a care in the +world, and, with his healthy, rubicund visage, and active, though +massive form, looked as if he were prepared to enjoy the good things +with which his life was filled for a further indefinite number of years. + +There was only one little shadow of a cloud. As he got into bed that +night, he said, "I'm very glad you asked old Miss Bird here, Nina. +She's a faithful old soul, and it does me good to see her about the +place. She seems to belong to it, and it brings us back to where we +were before all this infernal worry came to us." + +"We are better off than we were then," said Mrs. Clinton, "for you were +worrying about Dick getting married, and now his marriage has come +about and you need worry over it no longer." + +"Ah, yes," said the Squire. "I remember I did say something to you, +and to him too, just before he sprang it on us--what was in his mind. +If I had known Virginia then it would have saved us months of bother. +I've never quite forgiven Dick for not introducing me to her at first. +I should have given way at once, of course. However, we needn't think +about that now; but now this little chap of Walter's has come--I must +go over and have a look at him to-morrow--it does make me wish that we +were in the way of looking forward to a son of Dick's. I suppose, +Nina----" + +"There is plenty of time to hope for that," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"I suppose there is, and we mustn't be impatient. Still, I shan't be +quite easy in my mind about the succession until there are children at +the dower-house. However, the matter is in higher hands than ours, and +there's never failed an heir to Kencote yet. How long was Virginia +married before?" + +"Seven years, I think," said Mrs. Clinton. + +"Ah, well, if the worst comes to the worst, there's a boy Clinton +sleeping over at Mountfield now, and we must put up with our +disappointment. Good-night, Nina. God bless you!" + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eldest Son, by Archibald Marshall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELDEST SON *** + +***** This file should be named 38646-8.txt or 38646-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/6/4/38646/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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