“Of course it must be lovely to be able to do these things, they are
perfect girls, and so clever--only it makes me feel like that because I
suppose I am--different.”
He looked at me critically. “Yes, you are different, I wish you would
try to be more like my sisters--then I should not feel so nervous about
your going to London.
“It is too good of you to worry,” I said, demurely; “but I don’t think
you need, you know! I have rather a strong suspicion I am acquainted
with the way to take care of myself!” and I bent down and laughed right
in his face, and jumped off the stile on to the other side.
He did look such a teeny shrimp climbing after me! but it does not
matter what is their size, the vanity of men is just the same. I am
sure he thought he had only to begin making love to me himself, and I
would drop like a ripe peach into his mouth.
I teased him all the way back, until when we got into lunch he did not
know whether he was on his head or his heels! Just as we came up to the
door, he said:
“I thought your name was Evangeline--why did you say it was Clara
Maria?”
“Because--it is not!!” I laughed over my shoulder, and ran into the
house.
He stood on the steps, and if he had been one of the stable boys he
would have scratched his head.
Now I must stop and dress. I shall put on a black tea frock I have. Mr.
Carruthers shall see I have not caught frumpdom from my hosts!
_Night._
I do think men are the most horrid creatures, you can’t believe what
they say, or rely upon them for five minutes! Mrs. Carruthers was
right, she said, “Evangeline, remember, it is quite difficult enough
to trust oneself, without trusting a man.”
Such an afternoon I have had! That annoying feeling of waiting for
something all the time, and nothing happening. For Mr. Carruthers did
not turn up after all! How I wish I had not dressed and expected him.
He is probably saying to himself he is well out of the business--now
I have gone. I don’t suppose he meant a word of his protestations to
me. Well, he need not worry! I had no intention of jumping down his
throat--only I would have been glad to see him because he is human, and
not like any one here.
Of course Lord Robert will be the same, and I shall probably never see
either of them again. How can Lord Robert get here, when he does not
know Lady Katherine. No, it was just said to say something nice when I
was leaving, and he will be as horrid as Mr. Carruthers.
I am thankful at least that I did not tell Lady Katherine, I should
have felt such a goose. Oh! I do wonder what I shall do next. I don’t
know at all how much things cost--perhaps three hundred a year is very
poor. I am sure my best frocks always were five or six hundred francs
each, and I daresay hotels run away with money. But, for the moment, I
am rich, as Mr. Barton kindly advanced some of my legacy to me, and oh!
I am going to see life! and it is absurd to be sad! I shall go to bed,
and forget how cross I feel!
They are going to have a shoot here next week--Pheasants. I wonder if
they will have a lot of old men. I have not heard all who are coming.
Lady Katherine said to me after dinner this evening that she was sorry
as she was afraid it would be most awkward for me their having a party,
on account of my deep mourning, and I, if I felt it dreadfully, I need
not consider they would find me the least rude if I preferred to have
dinner in my room!
I don’t want to have dinner in my room! Think of the stuffiness of it!
and perhaps hearing laughter going on downstairs.
I can always amuse myself watching faces, however dull they are. I
thanked her, and said it would not be at all necessary, as I must get
accustomed to seeing people, I could not count upon always meeting
hostesses with such kind thoughts as hers, and I might as well get used
to it.
She said yes, but not cordially.
To-morrow Mrs. Mackintosh, the eldest daughter, is arriving with her
four children. I remember her wedding five years ago. I have never seen
her since.
She was very tall and thin, and stooped dreadfully, and Mrs. Carruthers
said Providence had been very kind in giving her a husband at all. But
when Mr. Mackintosh trotted down the aisle with her, I did not think so!
A wee sandy fellow about up to her shoulder!
Oh, I would hate to be tied to that! I think to be tied to anything
could not be very nice. I wonder how I ever thought of marrying Mr.
Carruthers off hand!
I feel now I shall never marry--for years. Of course, one can’t be an
old maid! But for a long time I mean to see life first.
TRYLAND,
_Thursday, Nov. 10th_.
“BRANCHES, _Wednesday_.
“DEAR MISS TRAVERS,--I regret exceedingly I was unable to come over to
Tryland to-day, but hope to do so before you leave. I trust you are
well, and did not catch cold on the drive.
“Yours very truly,
“CHRISTOPHER CARRUTHERS.”
_This_ is what I get this morning! Pig!
Well, I sha’n’t be in if he does come--I can just see him pulling
himself together once temptation (it makes me think of Malcolm!), is
out of his way; he no doubt feels he has had an escape, as I am nobody
very grand.
The letters come early here, as everywhere, but in a bag which only Mr.
Montgomerie can open, and one has to wait until everyone is seated at
breakfast before he produces the key, and deals them all out.
Mr. Carruthers’ was the only one for me, and it had “Branches” on the
envelope, which attracted Mr. Montgomerie’s attention, and he began to
“Bur-r-r-r,” and hardly gave me time to read it before he commenced to
ask questions _à propos_ of the place, to get me to say what the letter
was about. He is a curious man.
“Carruthers is a capital fellow, they tell me--er--You had better ask
him over quietly, Katherine, if he is all alone at Branches”--this with
one eye on me in a questioning way.