“Oh! I am so glad,” he said. “I should like to find we admired the same
things; but no picture could interest me as much as your hair. It is
the loveliest thing I have ever seen, and you do it so beautifully.”
That did please me! He has the most engaging ways, Lord Robert, and he
is very well informed, not stupid a bit, or thick, only absolutely
simple and direct. We talked softly together, quite happy for a while.
Then Mr. Carruthers got rid of Mr. Barton, and came towards us. I
settled myself more comfortably on the velvet cushions. Purple velvet
cushions and curtains in this gallery, good old relics of early
Victorian taste. Lots of the house is awful, but these curtains always
please me.
Mr. Carruthers’ face was as stern as a stone bust of Augustus Caesar. I
am sure the monks in the Inquisition looked like that. I do wonder what
he meant to say, but Lord Robert did not give him time.
“Do go away, Christopher,” he said; “Miss Travers is going to teach me
things about Italian Madonnas, and I can’t keep my attention if there
is a third person about.”
I suppose if Mr. Carruthers had not been a diplomat he would have
sworn, but I believe that kind of education makes you able to put your
face how you like, so he smiled sweetly, and took a chair near.
“I shall not leave you, Bob,” he said. “I do not consider you are a
good companion for Miss Evangeline. I am responsible for her, and I am
going to take care of her.”
“Then you should not have asked him here if he is not a respectable
person,” I said, innocently; “but Italian Madonnas ought to chasten and
elevate his thoughts. Anyway your responsibility towards me is self
constituted. I am the only person whom I mean to obey!” and I settled
myself deliberately in the velvet pillows.
“Not a good companion!” exclaimed Lord Robert, “What dam-- cheek,
Christopher. I have not my equal in the whole Household Cavalry, as you
know.”
They both laughed, and we continued to talk in a sparring way, Mr.
Carruthers sharp, subtle, and fine as a sword blade--Lord Robert
downright, simple, with an air of a puzzled baby.
When I thought they were both wanting me very much to stay, I got up,
and said good-night.
They both came down the gallery with me, and insisted upon each
lighting a candle from the row of burnished silver candlesticks in the
hall, which they presented to me with great mock homage. It annoyed
me, I don’t know why, and I suddenly froze up, and declined them both,
while I said good-night again stiffly, and walked in my most stately
manner up the stairs.
I could see Lord Robert’s eyebrows puckered into a more plaintive
expression than ever, while he let the beautiful silver candlestick
hang, dropping the grease on to the polished oak floor.
Mr. Carruthers stood quite still, and put his light back on the table.
His face was cynical and rather amused. I can’t say what irritation I
felt, and immediately decided to leave on the morrow--but where to,
Fate, or the Devil, could only know!
When I got to my room a lump came in my throat. Véronique had gone to
bed, tired out with her day’s packing.
I suddenly felt utterly alone, all the exaltation gone. For the moment
I hated the two downstairs. I felt the situation equivocal, and
untenable, and it had amused me so much an hour ago.
It is stupid and silly, and makes one’s nose red, but I felt like
crying a little before I got into bed.