Mr Durrant arrived at the Brown House on Sunday afternoon. It was a
day when few visitors were expected. Mr Starling, having gone to
church in the morning, invariably spent the afternoon lying back in a
cosy corner of the green-house, smoking and reading a Sunday newspaper.
He was by no means an irreligious man, but he liked his ease on Sunday,
being under the supposition that he worked extremely hard during the
week days. Mrs Starling spent Sunday afternoon lying down and
imagining herself a little worse than usual. Miss Felicia sat in the
drawing-room, and Violet and Rose played on the lawn.
They were quite good little children and never made any unruly noise--
that is, except when Robina was at home. Robina brought a disturbing
element into their young lives: but now that she was gone, and Bo-peep
was gone, the entire Starling family had settled down into their
ordinary habits.
The day was an intensely hot one, and when Mr Durrant appeared on the
scene, he stood still for a minute to wipe the moisture from his brow.
"Hallo, little 'un!" he said to Rose who, not at all shy, toddled up to
him.
"What's 'oo want, g'ate big man?" was her inquiry.
"I want your father, or your mother, or your aunt," was Malcolm
Durrant's reply. "I want some one who can tell me something. Now I
know you can't, because you're too small."
"There's my auntie in the drawing-room," said Violet at that moment.
Violet by no means wished Rose to monopolise the stranger. "She'll say
`Don't' if you has mud on your boots: but you hasn't, they is quite
clean."
"Only dusty," said Rose. "Let's dust 'em."
She knelt down as she spoke, and, taking the skirt of her little white
frock, began to remove the dust from the stranger's boots.
"Don't, Rose! Rose, how dare you!" called a shrill voice from the
drawing-room, and Miss Felicia made her appearance through the open
window. "How do you do, sir," she said. "I must apologise for my
niece. Really, Rose, your conduct is disgraceful. Go away at once to
the nursery and get your frock changed; what a dreadful mess you are
in!"
"Poor little one!" said Malcolm Durrant. "She but did what her sex did
before her for the Saviour of all the world. Forgive her, madam."
He spoke in a very courteous tone, and, raising his hat, exhibited a
noble brow and features which at once puzzled Miss Felicia and caused
her heart to beat. "Won't you come indoors, sir?" she said.
"And don't `don't' him, please auntie!" said Violet.
But Miss Felicia, agitated, she knew not why, did not even hear her.
She conducted the stranger into the little drawing-room.
"Sit down, sir," she said. "And now, may I ask your name. You have, of
course, come to see my brother-in-law on business. I can call him in a
moment; but first, would you not like something to drink?"
"Very much, indeed," said the stranger. "The fact is, I was never in
such a thirsty place in the whole course of my life. A cup of tea or--
or lemonade or--or--water--in fact, anything except spirits."
"Dear sir, I am glad you are a teetotaller."
"Dear madam, I drink wine in moderation; but that is neither here nor
there. I should not like it at the present moment. You want to know my
name? Malcolm Durrant. Your niece--for surely you are Miss Felicia
Jennings--is at present honouring me by residing under my roof."
"So you are the great traveller," said Miss Felicia. She felt herself
turning quite pale. "Sir," she said, in a low reverent tone, "I honour
you. It is a great, great privilege to have you under this roof. I
will presently tell my brother-in-law and my sister of your arrival. My
poor sister is a sad invalid; but to see you--I have not the slightest
doubt--she will make an effort to come downstairs."
"And I earnestly beg," said Durrant, "she will do nothing of the kind.
My business can be confided to you, madam. You can acquaint your sister
and your brother-in-law with my desires, and they can either accept or
refuse. But first of all--your hospitality was very much to the fore,
dear madam, a minute ago; and I am terribly thirsty."
Never did Miss Felicia Jennings in the whole course of her life feel
happier than now. She tripped eagerly from the room, knocking against a
chair as she did so. In a few minutes, she conveyed in her own fair
hands a large glass of cool lemonade to her guest. He drank it off to
the last drop, put down the empty glass, and told Miss Felicia in the
most courteous language that she was a good Samaritan.
"Ah! my dear sir," was her reply. "Who would not be a good Samaritan to
you?"
Durrant settled himself comfortably in his easy chair.
"You have a nice little place here," he said, "and a pretty out-look.
How many sweet and peaceful homes there are in England!--and those two
dear little maids to welcome me on the lawn. I only wish that they
belonged to my party of young people who are at present enjoying life at
Sunshine Lodge."
"They are too young to leave home at present," said Miss Felicia;
"although I doubt not that being in your presence would do them a great
deal of good. May I ask, my dear sir, how that precious little animal,
Bo-peep, is progressing?"
"Bo-peep is, I believe, in admirable health, and so is Robina. You have
not asked yet after the welfare of your niece."
"Robina is a strong child: she never ails anything," replied Miss
Felicia.
"I am glad to be able to inform you that she remains in her normal,
health," answered Durrant. "And now for the purpose of this visit. I
have, as you know, a little son."
"I have heard of him; a child after your own heart--in fact, your
Benjamin."
"My little son; my only child," said Durrant. "He is young--not yet
quite six years old. I do not care to send children of such a tender
age to school. I have many schemes for his future while I, alas! am
forced to part from him, and my final desire is to leave him in his
present home with a trustworthy lady whom I know, and who was my late
dear wife's relation--and with one young girl to be his constant
companion. The girl I particularly wish to be with Ralph during my
absence is, madam, your niece, Robina Starling."
"Indeed!" said Miss Felicia. It was on the tip of her tongue to say,
`Don't,' but the word did not come.
"You look surprised," said the traveller.
"Well," said Miss Felicia, "I know you admire Robina, or you would not
have given her that pony in such an extraordinary and munificent way.
But surely, she is a little--a little rough--if I may so express it."
"Hers is an upright character: she is upright, honest, truthful. My boy
cares for her, and she cares for him: he cannot be under better
influence. In short, if her father and mother consent, I want to make
them an offer with regard to their child, Robina."
"And what is that offer, Mr Durrant?"
"I want to take her from her present school, making arrangements with
Mrs Burton, so that Mr Starling may be put to no expense by her
transfer. I want to give her all the possible advantages of a good
education. These can partly be supplied by Mrs Temple, who is a very
polished and accomplished lady, and partly by masters and mistresses who
visit Eastbourne weekly from London. Eventually, if she so desires it,
I would pay all her expenses at Girton or Newnham."
"It is a great chance for Robina: to be honest with you," continued Miss
Felicia, "we sent her from home because she was a little noisy, and
upset her poor dear mother, who is a sad invalid; but she is a good girl
on the whole."
"I find her an excellent girl: I like her very much."
"Well, sir," said Miss Felicia; "I thank you for what you have told me.
I will now go and acquaint my brother-in-law with the fact that he is
deeply honoured by your visit to our humble roof."
"Don't put it in that way, I beg of you, madam. Try, please, and
remember that when I am at home I may be just an ordinary individual,
and in no sense wish to be lionised. You will oblige me by bearing this
fact in mind."
"I will endeavour to do so," said Miss Felicia. She left the room,
nodding many times to herself.
"Now he is under our roof--I have looked at him: I have heard his voice.
I wonder if he will write his name in my birthday book. I should so
prize it. I have not had one real celebrity to write in my book yet.
Malcolm Durrant! How that great name would stand out amongst the
inferior signatures of the people in our small neighbourhood. Oh, what
a chance for Robina! Of course she will go. And her expenses lifted
from her father's head. He will grab at it. I can't imagine myself
what such a great man as Malcolm Durrant finds in the child. Still,
these great people are very odd now and then in their preferences. I
must go to wake Edward. Dear, dear! what a lot of sleep that man does
require!"
She burst open the green-house door.
"Edward; how you are snoring! Do rouse yourself. Who _do_ you think is
in the drawing-room?"
"Dear me, Felicia! How can I tell," replied Edward Starling, rubbing
his eyes and looking at his sister-in-law in a dazed way. "You know
perfectly well that I don't see visitors on Sunday. It is my one day of
rest after a week of toil."
"A week of toil, indeed! Why, you do nothing. But rouse yourself now,
if you don't want your child to lose her golden chance in life. There
is no less a person waiting for you in the drawing-room than the great
traveller, Malcolm Durrant!"
Now the fame of this very great person had penetrated even to Edward
Starling's ears, and he roused himself at the news, fixing his eyes in
some amazement on his sister-in-law.
"You must be dreaming," he said. "It is quite impossible that Durrant
should come here."
"But he _has_ come here! It is about Robina; he wants to settle her in
life, to do everything for her. You had best go and clinch the bargain.
What he sees in her is more than I can tell. If I had my way, and
could speak honestly to the poor dear man, I would say `Don't' fast
enough. But there--these geniuses always take strange fancies--do let
me pull your collar down, Edward, and smooth that long lock of your
front hair. It looks so queer half hanging down your back. Now then,
you look better. Go in: make yourself agreeable. I will follow in a
few minutes just to see that you don't make a fool of yourself."
Book 2--CHAPTER NINE.