THE ACCEPTED SUITOR.
'Oh, Nan, here is the cab. What shall I say to him? What am I to say
to him?'
'I think you ought to know yourself, dear,' said Nan, gently, and then
she slipped away from the room, leaving Madge alone and standing at the
window.
But after all it was not so serious a matter. Some one came into the
room, and Madge turned.
'May I call you Madge?' said he, holding both her hands.
She answered, with her eyes cast down--
'I suppose I must call you Frank.'
That was all, for at the same moment Mr. Tom was heard calling to his
mother and sisters that Captain King had arrived; and directly after,
Lady Beresford and Edith entered the room, followed by Mr. Tom, who was
declaring that they must have dinner put forward to six o'clock, if
they were all to go to the pantomime.
There was a little embarrassment--not much. Frank King kept looking
towards the door. He wondered why Nan had not come with the others.
He was curious to see how much she had changed. Perhaps he should not
even recognise her? Without scarcely knowing why, he was hoping she
might not be quite like the Nan of former days.
Mr. Tom consulted his watch again.
'Shall I ring and tell them to hurry on dinner, mother?'
'We cannot alter the dinner hour now,' Lady Beresford said,
plaintively. 'It has already been altered once. Both Mr. Roberts and
Mr. Jacomb promised to come at half-past six, so that you might all go
to the pantomime together in good time.'
'What?' cried Mr. Tom. 'Jacomb? Did you say Jacomb, mother?'
'I said Mr. Roberts and Mr. Jacomb,' said his mother.
'And what the etcetera is he doing in that gallery!' exclaimed Mr. Tom.
'Well, I guess we shall have a high old time of it at dinner.
Soda-water and incense. But there's one thing they always agree about.
Get them on to port-wine vintages, and they run together like a brace
of greyhounds.'
Here Captain King begged to be excused, as there was but little time
for him to go along to his hotel and get dressed for this early dinner.
When--being accompanied to the door by Mr. Tom himself--he had left,
Madge said--
'How do you like him, mamma? Are you pleased with him?'
'He has not spoken to me yet, you know,' said the mother, wearily; she
had had to go through several such scenes, and they worried her.
'Oh, but it's all arranged,' Madge said, cheerfully. 'He won't bother
you about a solemn interview. It's all arranged. How did you think he
looked, Edith? I do hope he won't lose that brown colour by not going
back to sea; it suits him; I don't like pastey-faced men. Now, Mr.
Jacomb isn't pastey-faced, although he is a clergyman. By-the-way,
what has become of Nan?'
Nan had been quite forgotten. Perhaps she was dressing early, or
looking after the dinner-table; at all events, it was time for the
other sisters to go and get ready also.
Punctual to the moment, Captain King arrived at the door, and entered,
and went upstairs. He was not a little excited. Now he would see
Nan--and not only her, but also this clergyman, whom he was also
curious to see. At such a moment--arriving as Madge's accepted
suitor--it was not Nan that he ought to have been thinking about. But
it was Nan whom his-first quick glance round the drawing-room sought
out; and instantly he knew she was not there.
Everybody else was, however. Mr. Roberts, with his conspicuous red
opal and diamonds, was standing on the hearth-rug with his back to the
fire, talking to Lady Beresford, who was cushioned up in an easy-chair.
Mr. Jacomb was entertaining the two sisters, Edith and Madge, who were
laughing considerably. Mr. Tom was walking about with his hands in his
pockets, ferocious, for dinner was already eighteen seconds late.
Frank King had not much time to study the looks or manners of this
clergyman, to whom he was briefly introduced; for already his
attention, which was at the moment exceedingly acute, was drawn to the
opening of the door. It was Nan who slipped in, quietly. Apparently
she had seen the others before; for when she caught sight of him, she
at once advanced towards him, with a grave, quiet smile on her face,
and an outstretched hand.
'Oh, how do you do, Captain King,' she said, in the most friendly way,
and without the least trace of embarrassment.
Of course she looked at his eyes as she said so. Perhaps she did not
notice the strange, startled look that had dwelt there for an instant
as he regarded her--a look as if he had seen some one whom he had not
expected to see--some one whom he almost feared to see. He could not
speak, indeed. For the moment he had really lost command of himself,
and seemed bewildered. Then he stammered--
'How do you do, Miss Anne? I am glad to see you looking so well.
You--you have not altered much--anything--during these last three or
four years.'
'Oh, Nan has altered a great deal I can tell you,' said Mr. Tom; 'and
for the better. She isn't half as saucy as she used to be.'
But Nan had turned to her mother, to say privately--
'They are quite ready, mamma. The shades just came in time; and the
candles are all lit now.'
Then she turned to Captain King again. If she was acting
non-embarrassment, she was acting very well. The clear, friendly,
gray-blue eyes regarded him with frankness; there was no touch of
tell-tale colour in the fair, piquant, freckled face; she smiled, as if
to one in whom she had perfect confidence.
'It is so kind of you,' she said, 'to have let my brother pay you a
visit to Kingscourt; I am afraid he must be dull here sometimes. And
he says he enjoyed it immensely, and that every one was so kind to him.
I hope he didn't disgrace himself--I mean in the shooting; you see he
has not had a great deal of practice.'
'Oh, he shot very well,' said Captain Frank King, somewhat hurriedly.
'Oh yes, very well. I should call him a very good shot. I am glad he
liked his visit.' But Frank King was not looking into Nan's eyes as he
spoke.
Then some one at the door said, 'Dinner is served, your Ladyship;' and
the company arranged themselves according to order, and went
downstairs. It fell to Captain King's lot to go down last, with Lady
Beresford; but when they reached the dining-table he found that his
neighbour was to be Madge, and he was glad of that.
Nan was opposite to him; he had discovered that at the first glance,
and thereafter he rather avoided looking that way. He endeavoured to
entertain Lady Beresford, and occasionally spoke a little to Madge; but
he was somewhat preoccupied on the whole; and very frequently he might
have been caught regarding the clergyman-guest with an earnest
scrutiny. Mr. Jacomb, to do him justice, was making himself the friend
of everybody. He could talk well and pleasantly; he had a number of
little jokes and stories; and he was making himself generally
agreeable. The efflorescent Roberts was anxious to know--as anxious,
that is, as a very devoted regard for his _menu_ would permit--the
precise position held by a certain High Churchman who was being harried
and worried by the law courts at this time; but Mr. Jacomb, with great
prudence, would have nothing to say on such subjects. He laughed the
whole matter off. He preferred to tell anecdotes about his Oxford
days; and gave you to understand that these were not far removed from
the present time. You might have guessed that he and his companions
were the least little bit wild. The names of highly respectable
dignitaries in the Church were associated with stories of scrapes that
were quite alarming, and with sayings that just bordered here and there
on the irreverent. But then, to a clergyman much is permitted; for it
is his business to know where the line should be drawn; other people
might not feel quite so safe.
All this time Captain Frank King was intently regarding Mr. Jacomb; and
Nan saw it. The smile died away from her face. She grew
self-absorbed; she scarcely lifted her eyes.
'Nan, what's the matter with you?' said her brother Tom to her,
privately. 'You're not going to cry, are you?'
She looked up with her frank, clear eyes, and said--
'I was trying to remember some lines near the beginning of _Faust_.
They are about a clergyman and a comedian.'
This was beyond Mr. Tom; and so he said nothing. But what Nan had
meant had been uttered in a moment of bitterness, and was entirely
unjust. Mr. Jacomb was not failing in any proper respect for his
sacred calling. But he was among some young people; he hoped they
would not think his costume coercive; he wished to let them know that
his youth also had only been the other day, as it were, and that he
appreciated a joke as well as any one. If his speech at the moment was
frivolous--and, indeed, intentionally frivolous--his life had not been
frivolous. He had never intrigued or cajoled for preferment, but had
done the work that lay nearest him. At Oxford he had toadied no one.
And his 'record,' as the Americans say, in that parish in the southeast
of London, was unblemished and even noble.
But he made a hash of it that evening, somehow. Nan Beresford grew
more and more depressed and disheartened--almost ashamed. If Frank
King had not been there, perhaps she would have cared less; but she
knew--without daring to look--that Frank King was regarding and
listening with an earnest and cruel scrutiny.
When the time came for their starting for the theatre, Nan disappeared.
Tom began to make a noise, and then the message came that, Please sir,
Miss Anne had a headache, and might she be excused? Tom made a further
noise, and declared that the whole thing must be put off. Go to see a
pantomime without Nan he would not. Then a further message came from
Miss Anne, saying that she would be greatly distressed if they did not
go; and so, after no end of growling and grumbling, Mr. Tom put his
party into two cabs and took them off. Nan heard the roll of the
wheels lessen and cease.
It was about half-past eleven that night that someone noisily entered
Nan's room, and lit the gas. Nan opening her eyes--for she was in bed
and asleep--beheld a figure there, all white with snow.
'Oh, Nan,' said this new-comer, in great excitement, 'I must tell you
all about it. There has been such fun. Never such a gale known on the
south coast----'
'Child!' said the now thoroughly awakened sister, 'go at once and take
off your things. You will be wet through!'
'Oh, this is nothing,' said Madge, whose pink cheeks showed what she
had faced. 'I left a whole avalanche in the hall. The streets are a
foot deep already. Not a cab to be got. We had to fight our way from
the theatre arm in arm; the wind and snow were like to lift us off our
feet altogether. Frank said it reminded him of Canada. All the
gentlemen are below; Tom would have them come in to get them some
mulled claret.'
Madge's ejaculatory sentences came to an end simply for want of breath.
She was all panting.
'Such a laughing there was! Frank and I ran full tilt against a
gentleman who was coming full sail before the wind. "Hard-a-port!"
Frank cried. There was an awful smash. My hat blew off; and we hid in
a doorway till Frank got it back again.'
At Nan's earnest entreaties, her younger sister at last consented to
take off her outer garments and robe herself in some of Nan's--meantime
shaking a good deal of snow on to the carpet. Then she came and sat
down.
'I must tell you all about it, dear Nan,' she said, 'for I am so happy;
and it has been such a delightful evening. You can't imagine what a
splendid companion Frank is--taking everything free and easy, and
always in such a good humour. Well, we went to the theatre; and of
course Edith wanted to show herself off, so I had the corner of the box
with the curtains, and Frank sat next me, of course--it was
"Cinderella"--beautiful!--I never saw such brilliant costumes; and even
Edith was delighted with the way they sang the music. Mind, we didn't
know that by this time the storm had begun. It was all like fairyland.
But am I tiring you, Nan?' said Madge with a sudden compunction.
'Would you rather go to sleep again?'
'Oh no, dear.'
'Is your headache any better?'
'A great deal.'
'Shall I get you some eau-de-cologne?'
'Oh no.'
'Does it sound strange to you that I should call him Frank? It did to
me at first. But of course it had to be done; so I had to get over it.'
'You don't seem to have had much difficulty,' said Nan, with an odd
kind of smile.
'Well,' Madge confessed, 'he isn't like other men. There's no pretence
about him. He makes friends with you at once. And you can't be very
formal with any one who is lugging you through the snow.'
'No, of course not,' said Nan gravely. 'I was not saying there could
be anything wrong in calling him Frank.'
'Well, the pantomime; did I tell you how good it was? Mr. Roberts says
he never saw such beautifully-designed dresses in London; and the music
was lovely--oh! if you had heard Cinderella, how she sang, you would
have fallen in love with her, Nan. We all did. Then we had ices.
There's a song which Cinderella sings Frank promised to get for me; but
I can't sing. All I'm good for is to show off Edith.'
'You ought to practise more, dear.'
'But it's no good once you are married. You always drop it. If I have
any time I'll take to painting. You see you have no idea, in a house
like this, the amount of trouble there is in keeping up a place like
Kingscourt.'
'But you know, Madge, Mrs. Holford King is there.'
'She can't be there always; she's very well up in years,' said the
practical Madge. 'And you know the whole estate is now definitely
settled on Frank--though there are some heavy mortgages. We shan't be
able to entertain much for the first few years, I daresay--but we shall
always be glad to have you, Nan.'
Nan did not say anything; she turned her face away a little bit.
'Nan,' said her sister, presently, 'didn't Mary and Edith have a notion
that Captain King was at one time rather fond of you?'
Nan's face flushed hastily.
'They--they--imagined something of that kind, I believe.'
'But was it true?'
Nan raised herself up, and took her sister's hand in her two hands.
'You see, dear,' she said, gently, and with her eyes cast down, 'young
men--I mean very young men--have often passing fancies that don't mean
very much. Later on they make their serious choice.'
'But,' said Madge, persistently, 'but I suppose he never really asked
you to be his wife?'
'His wife!' said Nan, with well-simulated surprise. 'Recollect, Madge,
I was just over seventeen. You don't promise to be anybody's wife at
an age like that; you are only a child then.'
'I am only eighteen,' said Madge.
'But there is a great difference. And recollect that Captain King is
now older, and knows better what his wishes are, and what way his
happiness lies. You ought to be very proud, Madge; and you should try
to make him proud of you also.'
'Oh, I will, Nan; I will really. I wish you would teach me a lot of
things.'
'What things?'
'Oh, you know. All the sort of stuff that you know. Tidal waves and
things.'
'But Captain King won't have anything more to do with tidal waves.'
'Then we'll go round the shops to-morrow, Nan; and you'll tell me about
Chippendale furniture and blue china.'
'Don't you think there will be enough of that at Kingscourt; and just
such things as you couldn't get to buy in any shops?'
'Then what am I to do, Nan?'
'You can try to be a good wife, dear; and that's better than anything.'
Madge rose.
'I'll let you off, Nan. But I do feel terribly selfish. I haven't
said a single word about you----'
'Oh, but I don't want anything said about me,' said Nan, almost in
alarm.
'Well, you know, Nan, everybody says this: that a clergyman's wife has
more opportunities of doing good than any other woman; for, you see,
they are in the middle of it all, and they can interfere as no one else
can, and it is expected of them, and the poor people don't object to
them as they might to others.'
'Oh, I think that is quite true,' said Nan, thoughtfully--perhaps with
a slight sigh. 'Yes, I have often thought of that.'
'And you know, dear, that was what Providence meant you to be,' said
Madge, with a friendly smile. 'That is just what you were made for--to
be kind to other people. Good-night, old Mother Nan!'
'Good-night, dear.'
They kissed each other; and Madge turned off the gas and left.
Presently, however, Madge returned, opened the door, and came in on
tiptoe.
'Nan, you are not asleep yet?'
'Of course not.'
'I wanted to ask you, Nan; do you think he would like me to work a pair
of slippers for him?'
'No doubt he would,' was the quiet answer.
'For I was thinking it would be so nice if you would come with me
to-morrow and help me to choose the materials; and then, you see, Nan,
you might sketch me some design, out of your own head, for you are so
clever at those things, and that would be better than a shop pattern.
And then,' added Madge, 'I should tell him it was your design.'
Nan paused for a second.
'I will do whatever you want, Madge--but you must not say that I made
the design for you. It won't be worth much at the best. I would
rather have nothing said about it, dear.'
'Very well, Nan; that's just like you.'