THE WEDDING PRESENT
The marriage of Jeff Ironside to Colonel Elliot's daughter created a
sensation in the neighbourhood even greater than that which followed the
Colonel's death. But the ceremony itself was strictly private. It took
place so quietly and so suddenly very early on a misty October morning
that it was over before most people knew anything about it. Jim Dawlish
knew, and was present with old Granny Grimshaw; but, save for the family
lawyer who gave away the bride and the aged rector who married them, no
one else was in the secret.
Mrs. Elliot knew, but she and her stepdaughter had never been in
sympathy, and she had already left the place and gone to town.
Very small and pathetic looked the bride in her deep mourning on that
dim autumn morning, but she played her part with queenly dignity,
unfaltering, undismayed. If she had acted upon impulse she was fully
prepared to face the consequences.
As for Jeff, he was gruff almost to rudeness, so desperate was the
turmoil of his soul. Not one word did he address to his bride from the
moment of entering the church to that of leaving it save such as were
contained in the marriage service. And even when they passed out
together into the grey churchyard he remained grimly silent till she
turned with a little smile and addressed him.
"Good-morning, Jeff!" she said, and her slender, ungloved hand, very
cold but superbly confident, found its way into his.
He looked down at her then and found his voice, the while his fingers
closed protectingly upon hers. "You're cold," he said. "They ought to
have warmed the church."
She turned her face up to the sky. "The sun will be through soon. Will
you take me home across the fields?"
"Too wet," said Jeff.
"Not if we keep to the path," she said. "I must just say good-bye to Mr.
Webster first."
Mr. Webster was the family lawyer. He came up with stilted phrases of
felicitation which sent Jeff instantly back into his impenetrable shell
of silence. Doris made reply on his behalf and her own with a dainty
graciousness that covered all difficulties, and finally extricated
herself and Jeff from the situation with a dexterity that left him
spellbound.
She had her way. They went by way of the fields, he and she alone
through the lifting mist, while Granny Grimshaw and Jim Dawlish marched
solemnly back to the mill by the road.
"It's a very good morning's work," asserted Granny Grimshaw with much
satisfaction. "I always felt that Master Jeff would never marry any but
a lady."
"I'd rather him than me," returned Jim Dawlish obscurely.
Which remark Granny Grimshaw treated as unworthy of notice.
As Jeff Ironside and his bride neared the last stile the sun came
through and shone upon all things.
"I'm glad we came this way," she said.
Jeff said nothing. He never spoke unless he had something to say.
They reached the stile. He strode over and reached back a hand to her.
She took it, mounted and stepped over, then sat down unexpectedly on the
top bar with the hand in hers.
"Jeff!" she said.
He looked up at her. Her voice was small and shy, her cheeks very
delicately flushed.
"What is it?" said Jeff.
She looked down at the brown hand she held, all roughened and hardened
by toil, and hesitated.
"Well?" said Jeff.
She turned her eyes upon his face. "Are you going back to work to-day,
just as if--as if nothing had happened?" she asked.
He looked straight back at her. "You don't want me, do you?" he said.
She nodded. "Shall we go for a picnic?" she said.
"A picnic!" He seemed surprised at the suggestion.
She laughed a little. "Do you never go for picnics? I do--all by myself
sometimes. It's rather fun, you know."
"By yourself?" said Jeff.
She rose from her perch. "It's more fun with someone certainly," she
said.
Jeff's face reflected her smile for an instant. "All right," he said.
"I'll take a holiday for once. But come home now and have some
breakfast."
She stepped down beside him. "It's nice of you to give me the very first
thing I ask for," she said. "Will you do something else for me?"
"Yes," said Jeff.
"Then will you call me Dot?" she said. "It was the pet name my mother
gave me. No one has used it since she died."
"Dot," repeated Jeff. "You really want me to call you that?"
"But, of course," she said, smiling, "you haven't called me anything
yet. Please begin at once! It really isn't difficult."
"Very well, Dot," he said. "And where are we going for our picnic?"
"Oh, not very far," she said. "Somewhere within a quite easy walk."
"Can't we ride?" suggested Jeff.
"Ride?" She looked at him in surprise.
"I have a horse who would carry you," he said.
"Have you--have you, really?" Quick pleasure came into her eyes. "Oh,
Jeff, how kind of you!"
"No, it isn't," said Jeff bluntly. "I want you to be happy."
She laughed her quick, light laugh. "So you're going to spoil me?" she
said.
They reached the pretty Mill House above the stream and found breakfast
awaiting them in the oak-panelled parlour that overlooked a sunny
orchard.
"How absolutely sweet!" said Doris.
He came and stood beside her at the window, looking silently forth.
She glanced at him half-shyly. "Aren't you very fond of it all?"
"Yes," he said.
"And I think I am going to be," said Doris.
"I hope you will," said Jeff.
She turned from him to Granny Grimshaw who entered at the moment with a
hot dish.
"I don't think we ought to have been married so early," she said. "You
must be quite tired out. Now, please, Mrs. Grimshaw, do sit down and let
me wait on you for a change!"
Granny Grimshaw smiled at the bare suggestion.
"No, no, Mrs. Ironside, my dear. This is for you and Master Jeff. I've
got mine in the kitchen."
"I never heard such a thing!" declared Doris. "Jeff, surely you are not
going to allow that!"
Jeff came from the window. "Of course you must join us, Granny," he
said.
But Granny Grimshaw was obdurate on that point. "My place is in the
kitchen," she said firmly. "And there I must bide. But I am ready to
show you the way to your room, my dear, whenever you want to go."
Doris bent forward impulsively and kissed her. "You are much, much too
kind to me, you and Jeff," she said.
But as soon as she was alone with Jeff her shyness returned. She could
not feel as much at ease with him in the house as in the open air. She
did not admit it even to herself, but deep in her heart she had begun to
be a little afraid.
Till then she had gone blindly forward, taking in desperation the only
course that seemed to offer her escape from a position that had become
wholly intolerable. But now for the first time misgivings arose within
her. She remembered how slight was her knowledge of the man to whom she
had thus impetuously entrusted her future; and, remembering, something
of her ready confidence went from her. She fell silent also.
"You are not eating anything," said Jeff. She started at his voice and
looked up.
"No, I'm not hungry," she said. "I shall eat all the more presently when
we get out into the open."
He said no more, but finished his own breakfast with businesslike
promptitude.
"Mrs. Grimshaw will take you upstairs," he said then, and went to the
door to call her.
"Where will you be?" Doris asked him shyly, as he stood back for her to
pass.
"I am going round to the stable," he said.
"May I come to you there?" she suggested.
He assented gravely: "Do!"
Granny Grimshaw was in her most garrulous mood. She took Doris up the
old steep stairs and into the low-ceiled room with the lattice window
that looked over the river meadows.
"It's the best room in the house," she told her. "Master Jeff was born
in it, and he's slept here for the past ten years. You won't be lonely,
my dear. My room is just across the passage, and he has gone to the room
at the end which he always had as a boy."
"This is a lovely room," said Doris.
She stood where Jeff had stood before the open window and looked across
the valley.
"I hope you will be very happy here, my dear," said Granny Grimshaw
behind her.
Doris turned round to her impetuously. "Dear Mrs. Grimshaw, I don't like
Jeff to give up the best room to me," she said. "Isn't there another one
that I could have?"
She glanced towards a door that led out of the room in which they were.
"Yes, go in, my dear!" said Granny Grimshaw with a chuckle. "It's all
for you."
Doris opened the door with a quick flush on her cheeks.
"Master Jeff thought you would like a little sitting-room of your own,"
said the old woman behind her.
"Oh, he shouldn't. He shouldn't!" Doris said.
She stood on the threshold of a sunny room that overlooked the garden
with its hedge of lavender and beyond it the orchard with its wealth of
ripe apples shining in the sun. The room had been evidently furnished
for her especial use. There was a couch in one corner, a cottage piano
in another, and a writing-table near the window.
"The old master bought those things for his bride," said Granny
Grimshaw. "They are just as good as new yet, and Master Jeff has had the
piano put in order for you. I expect you know how to play the piano, my
dear?"
Doris went forward into the room. The tears were not far from her eyes.
"He is too good to me. He is much too good," she said.
"Ah, my dear, and you'll be good to him too, won't you?" said Granny
Grimshaw coaxingly.
"I'll do my best," said Doris quietly.
She went down to Jeff in the stable-yard a little later with a heart
brimming with gratitude, but that strange, new shyness was with her
also. She did not know how to give him her thanks.
He was waiting for her, and escorted her across to the stable. "You will
like to see your mount," he said, cutting her short almost before she
had begun.
She followed him into the stable. Jeff's own mare poked an inquiring
nose over the door of her loose-box. Doris stopped to fondle her. Jeff
plunged a hand into his pocket and brought out some sugar.
From the stall next to them came a low whinny. Doris, in the act of
feeding the mare, looked up sharply. The next moment with a little cry
she had sprung forward and was in the stall with her arms around the
neck of its occupant--a big bay, who nozzled against her shoulder with
evident pleasure.
"Oh, Hector! Hector!" she cried. "However did you come here?"
"I bought him," said Jeff, "as a wedding present."
"For me? Oh, Jeff!" She left Hector and came to him with both hands
outstretched. "Oh, Jeff, I don't know how to thank you. You are so much
too good. What can I say?"
He took the hands and gripped them. His dark eyes looked straight and
hard into hers, and a little tremor went through her. She lowered her
own instinctively, and in the same instant he let her go. He did not
utter a word, and she turned from him in silence with a face on fire.
She made no further effort to express her gratitude.