_LITTLE GUY._
Winter had given place to spring; the first bright coldness of that
fitful season had yielded to the balmier airs and warmer suns of May.
All the world seemed astir with happiness and life, and there was joy
within the walls of the Chase, because a beautiful little boy had
been born to Odeyne, and it seemed as if the little heir had indeed
the prospect of every happiness and indulgence that wealth and love
could bestow.
Who more proud and glad than Desmond when the glad news was told? He
quite won afresh the heart of Mrs. Hamilton by his tenderness to his
wife and child. And when the doctor, not quite satisfied with the
tardiness of Odeyne's recovery, suggested change of air for her, no
one could more unselfishly have set his own comfort aside, and
forwarded the scheme for mother and child to pay a visit to the
Rectory House in Devonshire, than did Desmond.
Of course it was a sacrifice; for he could not come too. It was
impossible to leave business for any length of time. He promised
visits as they could be managed--a run down now and then, whenever he
could get away. But he would not let Odeyne consider his loneliness,
or make any arrangements for a speedy return. She was to stay with
her own people till she was really strong again. Her health was to
be the first consideration in everything.
"It is so good of Desmond to make my way easy," said Odeyne to Mrs.
St. Claire, who was paying one of her periodic visits to her
grandson, of whom she was immensely proud. "I do want to get strong
again; and if they think the change will do it, of course there is
nowhere I should like so well to be; but it is hard to leave Desmond.
I suppose," with a little appealing glance at her visitors, "that you
and Maud could not come to stay here till I get back?"
Odeyne observed that Maud flushed from brow to chin, and bent over
the baby to hide it. Maud was now very tender and gentle to Odeyne,
and they felt that a strong bond united them, although they seldom
had opportunity for intimate talks. She was rather surprised at this
sudden flush, and looked at Mrs. St. Claire, who replied in her
slightly incisive way--
"Well, my dear, that did occur to me; but perhaps it was not a
well-judged thought. It does not do to change the mistress of the
house too often; and as Desmond pointed out, whilst thanking us for
the kind proposal, it is quite possible you may soon be able to come
back yourself, and perhaps it is making rather a needless fuss over
the matter."
"Then you did suggest it to Desmond? He did not tell me."
"No, my dear. You are not to be troubled about arrangements.
Desmond evidently has ideas of his own, and will not be solitary
altogether. He has some bachelor friends he wants to ask down. The
house has been rather shut up for some time now. He will enjoy a
little male society again, and, of course, Maud might be rather in
his way."
"He has had Guy all this time," said Odeyne. "He has not spoken of
being dull; but then Desmond is so unselfish!"
"A very good quality in a man, my dear," said Mrs. St. Claire
briskly, as she rose to go. "Take care you keep him up to it. Well,
I suppose I shall not see you again before you leave; but mind you
come back well and strong, for you will have to pick up the reins of
government with a strong hand when you return. Don't spoil the boy!
Though he is too young yet to be much the wiser if you do. I always
think I spoiled Desmond--my only boy--and I have repented it since."
She took the child from Maud and gazed at him long and earnestly.
"More like a Hamilton than a St. Claire, I should say," she remarked.
"Well, perhaps it is best so."
Odeyne did not quite hear; she was talking to Maud.
"You think you cannot come down for the christening? Do if you can!
I should so like it!"
"I will if I can leave mother; but she is more dependent on me than
she will allow. However, I shall be godmother, whether I am there or
not! You won't cheat me out of that?"
"Of course not. Mary shall be sponsor for you; and you don't mind
his being Guy Desmond? It is Desmond's wish that the Guy shall come
first. He won't have two Desmonds in the house."
"No, it makes confusion. Guy is a pretty name. And it is natural
you should like your father to christen him. Well, good-bye, dear; I
will come if I can, and I will look after Desmond in your absence as
well as he will let me!"
Odeyne thanked her and took her boy into her arms. She was not a bit
uneasy or unhappy. She had been upstairs for many weeks now. She
had her mother with her; Guy was in the house to be a companion to
Desmond; and he was tenderness itself when he paid his frequent
visits to her. His punctuality and regularity at business had evoked
much praise from Mrs. Hamilton, and as she lived almost entirely with
her daughter, she had seen nothing to excite any uneasiness.
Little Guy could not fail to be the object of the most absorbing
interest to mother and grandmother; and Desmond himself was proud of
his son to an extent that was amusing to see.
He brought him the costliest corals and bells, as though he expected
him to begin to cut his teeth forthwith, and provoked peals of mirth
from the fat, comfortable nurse by his remarks and suggestions for
his son's comfort, as well as by the extraordinary medley of
offerings he brought.
"Sir, sir, you'll kill the blessed lamb!" was the exclamation
constantly heard from the inner room; but little Guy grew and
flourished apace notwithstanding.
Of course it was a wrench to Odeyne to contemplate leaving husband
and home for a slightly indefinite period; but there was joy in the
thought of seeing all the dear home faces, and showing her boy in the
old place; and she intended to get strong very fast, so that she
might soon return to her duties here. Moreover she confidently
expected Desmond would make a way of coming to see her for a week or
two later on, when the present press of business was over. Maud had
smilingly said that Desmond, like men in general, could mostly find a
way of carrying out any pet project; and what could be nearer his
heart than a visit to the Rectory, to see wife and son, and perhaps
fetch them home?
Odeyne had several callers during the last days before she quitted
home. She had not yet been downstairs, but she saw her friends in
the pleasant room which had been turned into a boudoir for her during
these last weeks, and which was very near her own room.
Here it was that Guy would come and sit with her, whilst her mother
took an airing, looked a little after household matters, or paid
calls on those who had called upon her. Guy was with her when the
Ritchie sisters were announced, and as Jem immediately took almost
forcible possession of Odeyne, Cissy fell to the lot of Guy to
entertain.
Jem was disconsolate at Odeyne's threatened absence.
"Just as we thought you would be coming out again, and the Chase open
to all the world! We all looked forward to the garden parties you
would give, and the nice things that would go on when you were about
again! It's not been half so amusing since you have been shut
up--and now you are going away altogether for ever so long!"
"Not for ever so long, only for a few weeks; and we will try to make
up for it later on, and have plenty of parties. And you shall go on
having your drives, Jem. I will see about that. You are looking all
the better for them, I think."
"Father says they are the making of me," answered Jem, who was
decidedly stronger than she had been in the winter. "And it's
angelic of you to send the carriage for us as you do. It does mother
a lot of good too, I can tell you. But it isn't the same as when
you're there! I wish you weren't going away. I don't like it a
bit--nobody does."
Odeyne laughed. Jem's girlish adoration of herself was well known to
her by this time, and was not unwelcome. Moreover, Jem's frankness
of speech often gave her an insight behind the scenes which was
sometimes useful. She had learnt a good deal from her free-spoken
little friend, albeit Jem had sometimes been cautioned against a
freedom that bordered on impertinence.
And now her unruly tongue betrayed her into a remark which an older
and wiser person would have hesitated to make.
"I do hope you won't stay away too long! They all say that it will
be so bad for Desmond if you do! There has been a difference in him
since you have been shut up so many weeks."
And then Jem, catching the look in Odeyne's eyes, suddenly stopped
and grew crimson.
"I beg your pardon, I don't think I ought to have said that."
"No, dear, I don't think you ought," answered Odeyne quietly; "but
never mind, little harum-scarum. I know your tongue runs away with
you too fast sometimes! We will not quarrel, you and I, this last
day. You want to see little Guy, don't you? Run and tell nurse to
bring him."
Jem went with a crimson face, but soon forgot her confusion in the
delight of baby-worship. Hitherto Jem had dubbed all babies alike as
"nasty little red-faced things--as like as peas in pods!" But Guy
was in her eyes the noble exception. He was like nobody but his
darling self; and certainly he was an exceptionally pretty and
good-tempered baby.
Odeyne forgot her momentary vexation and uneasiness in watching the
pretty play between the pair on the floor; and she also observed
something else between the pair in the window, which caused her to
look at them somewhat more closely, with a curious thrill at heart.
When at last Cissy rose and said good-bye, she held her hands rather
long, and said--
"If Desmond should not be able to come and fetch me home when the
time comes, and I want a companion, do you think you could spare time
to run down and see us all, and take care of baby and me on the
return journey?"
Cissy's face was instantly flooded with bright colour, and the
confused delight of her reply caused Odeyne to look steadily at Guy,
when the door had closed behind the sisters, to find an answering
glow upon his cheek.
"Guy, is it so?" she asked gently.
He came forward and put his hand upon her shoulder.
"I don't know how to answer you," he said; "I never thought of
anything at first, except what a sweet unselfish girl she was. She
used to come in and out so often, and was so fond of you. We
generally talked of you when we got together--of you or of Desmond,
and somehow we grew intimate very quickly. But you know I have never
looked upon myself all these years as anything but a rickety old
bachelor. I hardly know how I have let myself dream of anything
different. Certainly I am much better and stronger than I used to
be, but----"
"You are as strong now as many men who marry and enjoy quite
reasonably good health!" cried Odeyne eagerly. "Oh, Guy, it would be
delightful if you would come and live near us. When you get Uncle
Godfrey's money----"
"Yes, I know," interrupted Guy quickly, "but somehow I don't like
waiting for dead men's shoes. I wish I could do something for
myself."
"I don't think you are strong enough for that," said Odeyne, "and you
know dear old Uncle Godfrey made you his heir just because you were
the delicate one of the sons, and could not go out into the world.
I'm sure if you were to tell him all about yourself and Cissy it
would please him very much. He has always called you 'his boy,' and
been so fond of you."
"I would tell him gladly, if there were anything to tell," answered
Guy; "but you know I have not spoken a single word yet. She may
perhaps have guessed something--one can't be always quite as careful
as one intends. Oh, Odeyne, do you really think there would be a
chance for me, and that it would not be selfish to try and get her?
You know I have been a very troublesome fellow in my time, and might
be so again. You had a good dose of it, and know what it is like!"
"If you don't give her a worse time than you gave me, you need have
no fears," answered Odeyne with shining eyes. "Oh, I am very
pleased. I like all the Ritchies, and Cissy is particularly
unselfish and sweet. Some day we will drive across to Uncle Godfrey
and tell him all about it; you know Desmond is sending down one of
the carriages and a pair of horses for my use at home; and then we
will have Cissy over and take her to see him. His dear old heart
will make room for her at once in its warm depths."
So now Odeyne had another and very vivid new interest with reference
to this visit home. For the old great-uncle, who lived not far away,
and who was Guy's godfather, and had made the boy his heir long ago,
was now very aged and in a critical state of health, and Odeyne was
desirous to see him again, as her father was of opinion that he would
hardly last through the summer. At his death Guy would succeed to a
modest independence of about five hundred a year--certainly not a
large income according to Desmond's ideas, but enough for persons of
modest tastes and inexpensive habits to set up housekeeping in a
quiet way. Guy had talents which might be turned to account to
augment that income by a little, and Cissy had a thousand pounds of
her own (though Guy did not know that), Dr. Ritchie having set aside
this sum for each of his children, to be paid over on their making an
independent start in life. The idea of Guy's setting up near to her,
as she believed he would if he should succeed to his inheritance, was
a source of the greatest pleasure to Odeyne, and helped her to forget
Jem's hasty words about Desmond, which occurred to her once or twice,
and which she had some thoughts of naming to Guy, asking if he
thought they required explanation.
And now the day of departure had come, and Desmond was helping his
wife into the carriage with the greatest tenderness and care, kissing
away her starting tears, promising to run down very soon to visit
her, and indulging fond hopes of seeing her back well and strong
before many weeks had passed.
Odeyne clung to him passionately, her heart almost failing her at the
last, begging him to take care of himself, to send for her if he
wanted her, to be all that he had been since their marriage. Not
more openly than this would Odeyne allude even to him to the
anxieties that sometimes preyed upon her in secret; and Desmond
kissed her again, pressed her hands, and promised, bidding her dry
her eyes, and not set little Guy howling by the force of example.
Alice was standing by the carriage with the baby in her arms, her own
tears falling slowly one by one.
There had been a little discussion once as to whether she should
accompany Odeyne in the capacity of nurse; but it had been decided
that it would not be right to take her from her husband, even though
he was obliging and accommodating when the plan had been proposed.
Alice had not been specially eager to go, although greatly devoted to
Odeyne and little Guy; so the monthly nurse had been retained,
pending other arrangements, and now Alice almost wished that she were
going after all.
It was so hard to part from her mistress and the darling boy, and her
life would be a lonely one without the house to come to.
"You must look a little after the master's comforts, Alice," said
Odeyne; "keep his clothes in nice order, and write to me about things
at home sometimes."
And Alice promised through her tears, and watched the departure of
the carriage with blinded eyes, feeling somehow (although she could
never have expressed it in such words) as though the good angel of
the house were flying away from it, leaving it open to other and more
baneful influences.
Two days later, when her husband came back from the City, he said to
her gaily--
"How would you like to live up at the great house, wifie, whilst the
mistress is away? The master has been talking to me about it. He
thinks it would be a very good plan."
"To live at the house?" questioned Alice, "but why? What should we
do there?"
"Well, he is going to have a good deal of company down, one way or
the other, and of course that means he will not be able to go into
business quite so regularly. So to have me on the premises will be a
great advantage, he thinks, and save a lot of time and trouble. It
really may be a good thing in other ways, Alice; for the master does
want a bit of looking after, more ways than one; and he's got into
the way of talking very freely to me, and taking what I say in very
good part."
"But what should I do there all day, not having the mistress to see
to?" asked Alice.
"Oh, you could look after things a bit--put flowers in the rooms, and
see to the gentlemen's mending and washing. You could make yourself
useful in lots of little ways, and have a good time too. It would
save us all housekeeping expenses, and it might be a good thing for
us other ways too."
Alice was not quite sure that she thought it a comfortable plan; but
she liked variety, and rather dreaded the dulness of the lodge in the
absence of her mistress. She had friends as well as enemies amongst
the servants at the house, and on the whole she thought it might be
an amusing change.
"What sort of company is the master going to keep?" she asked with
some interest. "I didn't hear anything about that from the mistress."
Garth laughed a little.
"Gentlemen like the master don't tell everything to their wives, my
dear, whatever some good folks may do. The master has been a very
exemplary husband, but he has had a precious dull time of it lately,
and now he's going to have his little fling. I don't blame him
either. It must be rather dull work tied to a sort of saint, like
the mistress, and not a clever one either. I often wonder what he
finds in her to be so fond of. She's not a patch upon my wife, now,
in the matter of looks, and she hasn't got that little spice of the
devil in her which makes a woman ten times more irresistible, and
which my little Alice can display at the right time."
Alice pouted, and called him a bad man to say such things; but a
little flattery went far with her, and greatly as she loved her
mistress, she was always a little flattered at being favourably
compared with her.
Two days later the Garths removed to the quarters assigned them in
the big house; and already Alice noted a difference in the atmosphere
that reigned there. A little relaxation of rules had taken place
during the time that the mistress was unable to take an active part
in domestic government; but so long as Mrs. Hamilton was in the house
to give orders by proxy, nothing very remarkable had happened. A
little more waste, a little more extravagance, irregularity at
church, later hours than there was need for, had crept in; but things
had gone pretty much in the old grooves so long as there were ladies
in the house; but with only gentlemen to look after, things at once
became different.
To begin with, the cook was sent on a holiday on full wages, whilst
her place was taken by a French man-cook, who, it was whispered,
received wages large enough to keep a curate and his family in
clover. A smart-looking housekeeper was added to the
establishment--only till the return of the mistress--and she and the
cook carried on an endless flirtation together; but as they were both
excessively polite to Alice and her husband, and treated them almost
as though they were guests in the house, the girl was very well
content with the life and the variety of her daily round, kept all
the rooms bright with flowers, decorated the dinner-table day by day,
and gave all those dainty touches to the house which in the absence
of the mistress it would otherwise have lacked.
As for the guests, she soon ceased to keep count of them and their
names. They came and went in a confusing medley. Sometimes the
house was full from basement to attic. Sometimes it would empty out,
and Desmond and his guests would all depart upon a drag and be absent
several days. When at home they kept very late hours, playing
billiards or cards, often until daylight broke in upon them.
Sometimes the master went up to London, but more often he sent Garth
in his place; and Alice would often notice a shadow of uneasiness
upon her husband's face.
"Is anything the matter?" she asked him one day.
"Nothing special, but I'm afraid the master is going it too fast.
He's broken out worse than I thought for. He does not have bad luck
on the whole--and he is uncommonly good at billiards. I can watch
him there, for they have me in to mark for them. But he's going the
pace altogether too fast. He wasn't made for it. He hasn't the head
to stand it. I look after everything for him as sharp as I can; and
he's very good about taking hints from me--I will say that for him.
But it would do him a world of good to go down to the country for a
spell. He's been drinking more wine than is good for him these last
few nights, and that I dread more than anything. He can't stand it,
and if he once takes to it, it'll ruin everything, sooner or later."
Alice looked rather frightened.
"It would break the mistress's heart if he took to drink," she said.
"O, Walter, don't you think I'd better write and ask her to come
back?"
He turned upon her almost roughly--
"Don't be a little fool, Alice! Can't you see that no power on earth
could stop the master just in the middle of his little fling, and
with all the race meetings and everything coming off? No, the only
chance is to wait till they are over, till he has had a sharpish
lesson perhaps, or is a bit sickened with the crew he is getting
about him. That will happen by-and-by, I daresay; and then if the
mistress comes back--well, she may just have a chance of putting a
spoke in the wheel. It is a thousand pities some men can never keep
their heads! Why, with care and prudence, going on quietly and
steadily, the master might have died a millionaire; but the way he's
going now he's more likely to die in a ditch!"
"O, Walter, but can't anything be done?"
"I'm doing all I can, and that's a good bit, I can tell you; for it
wouldn't suit my plans at all for the master's affairs to bust up (as
the Yankees say) just yet awhile. But they are getting suspicious
about him at the office, wonder why he doesn't come, and what the
rumours mean which get about. He'll have to be a bit more quiet and
prudent if he means to keep out of trouble. I wish Mrs. Vanborough
and her set were farther! It's they who do half the mischief.
Things wouldn't be nearly so bad but for them. If it doesn't end in
the Hon. Algernon coming an awful mucker, and dragging the master
down with him--well, I shall be very much surprised."
Nevertheless, in spite of gloomy prognostications, there was plenty
of fun in the house. In the absence of the master and his guests at
the races the servants got up balls, and invited their friends, and
Alice figured on one occasion in one of Odeyne's ball
dresses--slightly worn it is true, but very fine for the maid, and in
the imitation set of diamonds, which the envious maids declared that
nobody would know from the real. And Alice's giddy little head was
soon turned by all the flattery she received, though letters to her
mistress only spoke of bright and pleasant topics such as village
gossip afforded.
"Mrs. St. Claire can tell her other things, if she thinks she ought
to know them," she reflected, and held her peace.