_NEW FRIENDSHIPS._
Desmond appeared white-faced and agitated, having heard the tidings
of some disaster, but not the details. His greeting to his wife was
pretty to see, and her calm and smiling face quite reassured him as
to her safety. But when his anxiety was allayed, his anger blazed up
more fiercely than his wife had seen it since her marriage. She had
heard of Desmond's gusts of passion in old days from her brothers;
but well as she knew him now, she had never seen him so angry as on
this occasion.
His anger was chiefly directed against the friend from whom he had
purchased the turn-out for his wife.
"I wouldn't have believed it of Garston. He shall hear of it
again--and so shall others. The lowest, dirtiest trick! And when I
was doing him a kindness and all! They are all saying now that those
are the same cobs as brought Lady Massingham to nearly fatal grief!
And he sold them to me for a pair of perfectly trustworthy horses for
my wife to drive! A fellow like that wants horsewhipping, and the
cobs want shooting! I've a great mind to do both horsewhipping and
shooting with my own hands--I have, indeed!" and Desmond ground his
teeth.
"No, don't do that, Desmond, dear," said Odeyne soothingly. "Indeed,
the fault was partly mine. I was not driving carefully enough. The
rapid motion was pleasant, and they were eager, and it was easier to
let them have their heads than to keep them in hand. But I know it
was bad driving; and I have had my lesson. I will take care never to
let them get beyond themselves again."
"As though I should ever let you sit behind them again, my precious
darling!" cried Desmond. "No, I'll have it out with Garston, and he
shall either take them off my hands at the price I paid for them, or
I'll expose the whole transaction at the club, if I don't horsewhip
him too! The way I made things easy for him; and to be treated like
this!"
"What do you mean about making things easy for him and doing him a
kindness in the transaction?" asked Maud.
"Why, just this, that he got pretty heavily dipped at the St.
Leger--and partly through bets to me; and hearing that I was looking
out for a handsome turn-out for my wife, he came and told me of the
one he had lately bought for his own, and which must now go to help
pay his debts. He begged me to take the thing off his hands at a
valuation, and, like a fool, I took his word and did so. It wiped
off his debt to me, and I gave him a cheque in addition. I behaved
really handsomely to him, because he was an old friend, and rather
down on his luck--and this is how he serves me!"
Desmond broke away to go and write an indignant letter to the man
against whom his anger was so stirred; whilst Odeyne and Maud were
left together, looking into each other's faces with a certain veiled
anxiety.
"Oh, Maud," exclaimed Odeyne suddenly, "I don't wonder now at what
happened to-day!"
"What do you mean, dear?"
"How can one expect a blessing upon things obtained in such a way?
The price of a bet!" and Odeyne hid her face.
"I hoped that Desmond had given up that sort of thing on his
marriage," said Maud gravely. "But don't you think it is a little
superstitious to speak in that way?"
"I don't know," answered Odeyne still very gravely; "I have thought a
great deal about these things since--since--since they have been
brought before me so much. It cannot be God's way of giving us
riches--I think everybody would admit that. And what does not come
of God, comes of evil; I cannot see it in any other light. And if we
take and use the devil's gold, how can we expect a blessing to follow
it?"
Maud was silent awhile, and then said thoughtfully--
"That is a broad way of stating it, and an unconventional way of
looking at things; yet I am not sure that there is not an element of
sound sense and truth in what you say. I have seen enough to know
that the gambler's wealth is not blessed to him! Ah, Odeyne--can you
not save Desmond from his besetting sin?"
Odeyne was almost startled by the earnestness, the almost anguish of
Maud's tone. Hitherto the sister had been so reserved and cold, and
above all had spoken so little to her of Desmond, that this appeal
came with strange force and power.
"What do you mean?" she asked, a little startled.
"I have always tried to shut my eyes to it," continued Maud in the
same strained voice; "I have always loved Desmond better than
anything in the world, although he has not specially cared for me. I
have stood his champion through everything. I have tried not to
believe in his faults and in his weaknesses. I have almost
quarrelled with our mother for seeing them so clearly. I have always
declared them just youthful follies, which he would speedily outgrow.
Although I was jealous and unhappy at hearing of his marriage, I was
glad to believe that it would be a turning point in his life, and
that that and the office would sober him down. Ah, Odeyne!--don't
let us all be disappointed after all! He loves you very dearly.
Can't you get him to give up that one pernicious habit--for your
sake?"
"I hoped he had," answered Odeyne in a very low voice. "At least he
spoke very reasonably about it, and said that with him it was a mere
trifle he risked--just to keep himself from being peculiar, and not
to lose all influence over Algernon, which he would do if he set up
for what he called a saint."
Maud smiled a little bitterly.
"That is always the way--they have always some good reason, and each
one thinks that he individually is exempt from danger. But O, my
dear child, don't you be led into thinking that Desmond cannot be led
away himself. Algernon and his friends are notorious. That is why I
hate you and Desmond to be in their house. Beatrice ought not to ask
you. But poor Beatrice tries to shut her eyes to what she is
powerless to stop, and to live on the surface of things, hoping that
the evil day will somehow be staved off. I pity Beatrice from the
bottom of my heart (though she would not be grateful for any token of
sympathy), but her house is not the place for you or Desmond. Do
take him home and keep him there!"
"I will try," answered Odeyne, not a little startled at this sudden
outbreak from Maud, putting into words the vague thoughts and fears
which had haunted her for so long. It was a great relief to be able
to speak freely to Maud, and to feel that the barrier between them
was broken down; yet she was made more anxious on Desmond's account
after this talk with his sister, than she had ever been before.
One good thing resulted from the threatened accident, and that was
that the visit to Beatrice's house came to an abrupt conclusion.
Quiet and rest were ordered for Odeyne after the shock she had
suffered. She remained at her mother-in-law's house for a few days,
and then went home to the Chase with Desmond, who had been so fully
occupied during these days in inquiries and arrangements about the
cobs, that he had no time for anything else, beyond petting his wife
and teasing his mother and sister whenever he was at home.
It was proved that only one of the cobs had belonged to Lady
Massingham, and that the quieter of the pair. There was no actual
vice in the creatures, only a superabundance of energy, and Desmond
soon succeeded in selling the spirited pair to a horsey lady in the
neighbourhood, who laughed the thought of fear to scorn. A sound and
quiet horse was bought for Odeyne's pretty phaeton, a handsome
creature that would give her no trouble or alarm, and Desmond, in
high good humour with himself and with his purchase, took his wife t
home, having had for the time being enough of gaiety, and feeling
ready for a quieter life and for the routine of the office.
"Yes, dear, you are quite right, I believe," he said to Odeyne, when
she strove to speak to him seriously of the peril he ran into, and of
her abhorrence of practices which were too familiar to him to strike
him with any great disgust. "That sort of thing does make beasts and
cads of men. Look at Garston, for instance; the fellow won't even
apologise, but declares everything he did was square and above-board,
and as good as tells me that my wife is a fool and that I am a liar!
And even Algy, who is a good sort of fellow in his way, was inclined
to take his part and only laugh at the whole thing. I'm not at all
pleased with him and his set. I'm sorry for poor Beatrice, but I
can't stand everything for her sake. We'll keep away from that house
for a bit."
Odeyne's heart rejoiced at these words. If only she had Desmond to
herself, and could keep him away from Beatrice and her set, she felt
certain all would be well. He was so tender and affectionate at
home, and so regular in his attendance at business, that she hoped
everything for his future. If he could but see the deterioration of
character that must of necessity follow upon the indulgence of
vicious habits, surely he would of his own accord revolt from those
habits and break the yoke from his neck.
Odeyne might have been rather lonely at this time, had it not been
that Cissy Ritchie came to stay with her for a while. This
arrangement was practically made by Mrs. St. Claire, who did not
think Odeyne ought to be quite alone just now, and who decided that
one of the Ritchie girls would do very well to wait on her, and fetch
and carry, until some of Odeyne's own people could come to be with
her. Mrs. St. Claire believed in cheerful companionship, and was
also decidedly averse to Odeyne's driving about alone. She spoke to
Dr. Ritchie on the subject, and he gladly gave permission for Cissy
to stay for a while at the Chase. Jem would have loved to be the one
selected, but her father knew that Odeyne would wait upon her and
look after her, rather than suffer the lame child to save her steps.
So Cissy was the one in the end selected; and Odeyne found it
pleasant to have in the house a quick-witted, sensible, and
sympathetic companion, who was always on the spot if wanted, but who
had the knack of effacing herself quickly and completely whenever
husband and wife wanted to be together.
Maud would have liked to be Odeyne's companion now, but she could not
be spared by her mother, who was always something of an invalid,
especially during the winter months. Cissy Ritchie, however, was
delighted to come, and after a very short time Odeyne found that she
liked and trusted her most fully.
The chief interest and excitement of those days was the approaching
marriage of pretty Alice, the maid, and the renovation of the lodge
which was to be her future home.
Odeyne drove down very often to see how it was getting on, and Cissy
became keenly interested in the place and its future occupants. She
helped Alice with some of her trousseau garments, a little amused
sometimes at the daintiness of them for a girl in her position.
"You will be quite a fine lady one of these days, Alice," she
remarked, as Alice displayed to her a hat and cape which she had had
given to her by her _fiancé_ only a few days before. And Alice
blushed and bridled a little as she answered--
"That is what Walter hopes, ma'am, in a few years. He means to make
his way in the world, and he says he will make a lady of me before we
grow so very much older."
"And how is he going to set about that, Alice?" asked Cissy, with one
of her quick little penetrating glances.
"He means to be rich one of these days, you see, ma'am," answered
Alice, "and then it'll all be easy."
"Come Alice," said Cissy with a little laugh, "you know better than
that. Why it was only the other day you told me yourself that Mrs.
Bennet and her daughters would never be ladies as long as they lived!
Yet they are rich enough to curl their fringes with bank-notes if
they had a mind to!"
Alice blushed again, but lifted her pretty head with a gesture that
meant a good deal.
"I don't think that those poor ladies have ever been used to good
society--not till it was too late to learn. One has to be brought up
with ladies to understand the ways of them!" And Alice plainly
considered that she had had that sort of education, and could hold
her own in any society!
"At least, Alice, believe me that money has nothing to do with it,"
said Cissy gravely. "Some of the best and truest ladies in the world
are poorer than you and your husband will be, even when you first set
up. A true lady, Alice, is born, not made. And the truest test I
know of real refinement is the gift of putting aside self for the
sake of others."
Alice did not look as though she thought much of that as a test; but
she was fond of Miss Ritchie, and did not argue with her. Cissy was
very quiet, but she had a way of speaking straight to the point, of
supporting her words if need be with pregnant arguments. Odeyne had
begun to find her interesting as well as kind and useful, and her
knowledge of the neighbourhood and all the people there was both
useful and entertaining.
One day, as they were sitting together in that comfortable sanctum of
Desmond's, which Odeyne had beautified for him, and which on cold and
blustery days was the cosiest corner of the house, a note was brought
in to them which proved to be of some importance. Walter Garth was
the bearer, and in it Odeyne was asked to give him some important
papers which were locked up in the safe in this very room. Odeyne
had a duplicate key in her possession; but she was not clear from
Desmond's rather vague directions what the papers were that were
wanted.
"I think I must have the man in. Very likely he will know. Desmond
always says he is so observant and quick. He saves him a great deal
in time and trouble."
Cissy leant back in her chair and surveyed the new-comer as he
entered. Although she had heard a good deal about Walter Garth, she
had never seen him before, and as Alice's future husband she took a
considerable interest in him.
She watched him closely all the time he was in the room talking with
Odeyne. He knew all about the papers; was very quiet and courteous
in his manner. In accent and voice he could have passed as a
gentleman in any ordinary society, and yet he could not justly be
accused of giving himself airs; he was far too quiet and respectful.
"So that is Alice's _fiancé_," said Cissy when the visitor had taken
his departure.
"Yes; what do you think of him?" asked Odeyne, who had come to have a
considerable respect for Cissy's powers of discrimination.
"I didn't take to him," answered Cissy briefly.
"Didn't you?" asked Odeyne, rather surprised. "Most people have
formed a very favourable impression of him."
"Oh, I should think he was clever, if that was what was wanted, and
as quick as they make them, as the boys would say. I should think he
could be a very useful servant and a very trustworthy one, so long as
it was in his interest to be so. But I wouldn't trust him beyond
that point."
Odeyne felt just a little hurt. Walter Garth was rather a _protégé_
of hers, for Alice's sake.
"Don't you think you are rather harsh in your judgments, dear Cissy?"
she asked. "What makes you think such things?"
"It's a kind of instinct I have," answered Cissy. "I can't help it;
it was born in me. I have a feeling about people the very first time
I see them. I sometimes wander away from my first impression for a
time; but almost, if not quite invariably, I come back to it in the
end."
"I have heard people talk like that before," said Odeyne. "I have
not that kind of gift myself. Sometimes I think it may be rather a
dangerous one. It must give rise to a certain amount of prejudice."
"Yes," answered Cissy readily, "it does. One judges beforehand on
instinct, without waiting for development and reason. I have had my
qualms about it. Once, when I had the chance of talking to a very
holy man, I asked him what he thought about that sort of intuition."
"And what did he say?" asked Odeyne with interest.
"He said it all a great deal more beautifully than I can do; but the
gist of it was this--that these instincts were often given us by God,
for our defence and guidance; but that like every God-given thing, it
was liable to abuse, and that the enemy would be certain to strive
and make us abuse it; so we must watch ourselves very carefully, and
above all avoid judging and condemning our brethren, and so missing
that bond of perfect love which should be strong enough to embrace
all mankind, even though over some we may have to weep tears of blood
for their wickedness and unbelief."
"Yes, I like that sort of answer," said Odeyne, "and I am sure God
does give us instincts to help us to avoid evil. Think how little
children shrink away from wicked persons without knowing why. I have
so often noticed that, and thought how beautiful it was. But tell
me, have you any reason rather than this instinct for distrusting
Walter Garth?"
"Not exactly," answered Cissy. "I did not quite like the way he
examined the key of the safe when he had locked it up, or the sort of
stock he seemed to take of everything in the room; but perhaps he has
trained himself to habits of observation, and does it unthinkingly;
for I suppose he has been inside this room before to speak to Desmond.
"Desmond generally sees him in the little waiting-room opposite,
where Garth has a writing-table, and sometimes writes a few letters
for him. He may have been in here before; but I don't know. As you
say, he is one of those observant men who takes in everything.
Perhaps it is not quite an agreeable habit, but Desmond has found it
very useful."
Cissy said no more. She had no wish to be disagreeable, and the fact
that Walter Garth's face had struck her rather unpleasantly was not a
matter of much consequence. Alice was satisfied with him as a lover,
and Desmond as a clerk. He had many good qualities to recommend him,
and even if there were possibilities of an ugly kind in his nature,
perhaps nothing would ever arise to call them forth, or perhaps the
influence of his wife and home would gradually eradicate them.
"If Alice were not such a vain, feather-brained chit herself," mused
Cissy, as she thought over the situation. "Her real devotion to
Odeyne is her best point; except for that she seems to me but a
flighty little thing, bent on being a fine lady in so far as it is
possible. They are going to keep a servant, and she plainly intends
to go about very smart, when she is not up at the house looking after
Odeyne's things. Perhaps the responsibilities of matrimony will
sober her down; but her one leading idea seems to be to have a good
time and enjoy herself thoroughly."
Odeyne had decided not to engage another maid at once. She had never
been used to much personal attendance, and did not care for it. She
needed some help in the care of her rather extensive wardrobe, and
that Alice was eager to give still. She did not want to sever her
connection with the big house and all its attendant gaieties, nor did
her husband wish this either. He told her that she would find it
very lonely all day at the lodge, and encouraged her to continue her
duties in so far as it was possible. This arrangement pleased and
suited Odeyne very well, and was to be adopted for the present, at
any rate. The wedding was to take place as soon as the additions to
the lodge were made, and that would certainly be before Christmas, so
there was not much time to make others.
Desmond's ideas just now were rather on a large scale. The prospect
of the nurseries at the Chase being wanted shortly, gave him an idea
that they would find the house rather small when visitors arrived for
such occasions as the shooting and hunting, or a county ball. He had
therefore taken a great fancy to his plan of enlarging the lodge,
which was never used as a lodge, and making it at once a comfortable
home for the Garths and a sort of overflow house, where his own
guests could be accommodated when necessary.
Odeyne was always ready to fall into any project of his, and although
she was a little astonished at the elaborate plans and heavy
estimates submitted, Desmond assured her that he could well afford to
carry out his scheme in his own way, and added that there was never
any real extravagance in improving a property. It would be an
advantage to the family, in the long run.
He went to work all through in an open-handed and lavish way.
Everything, even the furnishing, was done at his own expense, and in
a style that Cissy frankly told him was rather absurd for such people
as Garth and his wife.
But Desmond only laughed. This lodge was his pet hobby just now, and
as it kept him at home when he was not at business, and was certainly
a safer way of spending money than others in which he was fond of
indulging, nobody seriously opposed him, and the delight of Alice
with her pretty home was quite amusing to see.
The house was divided practically into two parts, the one being an
exceedingly comfortable and even elegant cottage for the Garths, the
other forming a quaint suite of rooms for bachelor guests, including
a smoking-room, a bathroom, and two good bedrooms, with a
dressing-closet or boxroom wedged between them. Two, or even three
men could be comfortably accommodated here, and Desmond was as
pleased with the appearance of the furnished and embellished rooms as
a child with a new toy.
The wedding of Alice and Garth came off in due course, just a
fortnight before Christmas. The bride had insisted upon white for
her own wear, although Odeyne had gently suggested that grey would be
more serviceable, and would be more comfortable and suitable for the
season of the year. But that did not meet Alice's views at all, nor,
as she said, those of Walter. She should not feel properly married,
she declared, if she were not married in white. So Odeyne was
prepared for something rather fine, but not for the sweeping white
silk and the flowing veil with which Alice astonished the church upon
the morning of her wedding-day.
Desmond had ruled that she should be married from the house, and have
a carriage to convey her and two of the other maids, who were to act
"bridesmaids" for her. Odeyne, knowing that Alice's besetting sin
was vanity and love of display and admiration, would much have
preferred to have everything more quiet and suitable; but Desmond was
in a gay, benignant, and almost rollicking mood, encouraged Alice and
Garth in all their ideas of future grandeur, and laughed at Odeyne's
scruples as out of date in these liberal and levelling days.
So Alice swept up the aisle in robes as fine as many ladies wear on
such occasions, and she looked altogether so dainty, so pretty, so
refined, that she might be pardoned for the idea that she was on the
high road to becoming a "real lady."
She was a little shy of the thought of meeting her mistress's eye;
but for the rest she was glad that all the world should see her in
her finery and grandeur. She was going away with Walter as soon as
she had changed her dress after church; and before she saw her lady
again the impression of her foolish grandeur would surely have worn
away.
So she escaped without any real leave-taking from her mistress, and
when Odeyne, a little hurt, spoke of it to Desmond, he only laughed
and said--
"The little puss was afraid of a scolding for all that finery. Never
mind, wifie; it was rather absurd, but it made her very happy, and I
suppose she could afford it. She has had a lot of things given to
her. Let's walk down and look at the lodge again. I am looking
forward to seeing it inhabited."
And when they stood inside the pleasant rooms, and spoke of using
them later on, Desmond broke into one of his gay laughs and cried--
"You see, wifie, it really is a capital move having a place like
this; for when your careless husband has ruined himself over
horseracing, and who knows what beside, we shall be able to let the
Chase, and live cosily here ourselves, until our fortunes mend again.
Really it wouldn't be half bad!"
He laughed and kissed her as he spoke; but Odeyne shivered a little,
and drew her fur cloak closer round her.
"I don't like you to say such things, even in jest, Desmond," she
answered, and she wished that he had not laughed again as they
sallied forth.
"If he would take life just a little more seriously!" was the
unspoken cry of her heart. "I wish he had not said that about the
lodge. He has spoilt it for me now!"