The vicar's visits to the Big House became fewer, for he could not but
see that Richard Glaire, in spite of all that had passed, was more and
more embittered against him. He was very quiet, and ceased to be
insulting, but there was a malicious look in his eye, an ill-concealed
air of jealousy in his glance, whenever the vicar spoke to Eve, that
told of his feelings. In fact, Richard vowed that the lesson was chosen
because he went to church that day, and if ever opportunity served he
would be revenged.
Opportunity was serving him, for, like Mrs Glaire, he saw but too
plainly what the vicar's feelings were towards Eve--feelings that made
him grind his teeth whenever they were together, and which finally
brought on a fresh quarrel with his mother.
It was one morning when Mrs Glaire had been appealing to him to reopen
the works.
"Not yet," he said. "I should have done it before now if they hadn't
been such beastly cowards. I'll give 'em a good lesson this time."
"But you are losing heavily, Richard," said Mrs Glaire.
"Yes," he said, maliciously. "I like to lose heavily when I can get my
money's worth; and I'm punishing them, so I don't care."
"But, do you know, that if your conduct does not alter, you'll lose
something for which you will never forgive yourself?"
"What's that?" he said, eagerly.
"Your cousin."
He caught his mother sharply by the wrist, and looked her full in the
face.
"You've been plotting for this, mother?"
"Indeed, no, my son."
"Do you want me to marry Eve?"
"You know I do."
"Then why do you encourage that cursed prig of a parson here?"
"Because he has shown himself a good friend to me and mine."
"Bah!" said Richard. "I won't have it. He shall come no more. Look
here, mother; you don't believe that I've got Daisy Banks away."
"No, Richard, I never have believed it," said Mrs Glaire, meeting his
eye, and responding without hesitation.
"Well, look here, then, I tell you what. I'm going to quiet down."
"Dick, my own brave boy," cried Mrs Glaire, hysterically, as she threw
her arms round his neck.
"There, don't be stupid," he said, carelessly repulsing her, after she
had kissed him passionately. "I was going to say I'm sick of all this
cursed worry, and I shall open the works soon."
"Yes, my dear boy, yes."
"And suppose, to settle all this rumour about Daisy Banks, I marry Eve?"
"My darling boy," sobbed Mrs Glaire; "it is the wish of my life. You
make me so happy."
"There, don't, mother; how can I talk to you if you keep pawing me about
like that? Look here, you're making my face all wet."
"Yes, yes, my dear boy, it's very foolish, and I'll control myself."
"There, look at them," said Richard, in a low whisper, as he pointed out
of the window, to where Eve and the vicar were walking together on the
lawn. "Do you see that, mother?"
"Yes," said Mrs Glaire, uneasily.
"Do you know he's making up to Eve?"
He looked at her searchingly.
"I cannot help thinking that he admires her, Richard; but I am sure Eve
thinks of no one but you."
"Then curse him, he shall see me marry her," said Richard, eagerly.
"You want it to be, mother, and it shall be--soon. Eve won't mind, and
you'll settle it all with her, and then I'm not going to have him here
any more."
"Don't talk like that, my boy," said Mrs Glaire; "but I do think it
would be for your happiness if you were married."
As she spoke, the question seemed to be asked her--Was it for Eve's
good? and a cold, chilly feeling of misery came over her, as she felt
that she was destroying the young life of the girl who had been to her
almost more than a daughter.
"That's settled then, is it, mother?" said Richard, lightly.
"Yes, my boy, indeed yes," said Mrs Glaire, throwing off her momentary
feeling of depression, and telling herself that it was for the best, and
that so good a wife should be the saving of her son. Besides, it was
for this that she had been working, and now that there was to be the
fruition of her hopes, she felt that she must not hang back.
Richard was already out on the lawn, going up to where the vicar and Eve
were talking about flowers, and it galled the young man to see the
bright happy look pass away as he approached, and not come back.
The vicar spoke pleasantly to Richard, but the replies were
monosyllables, and an awkward pause was ended by the coming of Mrs
Glaire, who soon after returned into the house with their visitor, while
Richard led his cousin down to the bottom of the garden, and, to her
surprise, asked her to sit down.
"Look here, Eve," he said, shortly, "I've been talking to the old lady
about our being married."
"Our being married, Richard?" said Eve, turning pale and starting.
"Yes, our being married," he said, sharply. "What are you starting for,
you little goose? Any one would think it was something new."
"It came upon me like a surprise," said Eve, catching her breath, and
speaking quickly. "I did not expect it."
"Gammon!" said the young man, coarsely. "Why, you've been expecting it
for months."
"Indeed no, Richard," she said, eagerly.
"Then you ought to have been," he continued. "You know the old girl
wishes it."
"Yes, Richard," she faltered, with her forehead becoming rugged, and her
lower lip quivering, "I know that."
"Well, we've talked it over, and she thinks like I do, that if we're
married it will settle all this rubbish about Daisy Banks."
"Oh, Richard! Richard!" she cried, pitifully; and she rose to run away,
but he caught her wrist, and forced her back into the seat.
"Don't be a little stupid," he said. "Why, that was only a silly
flirtation, and I don't care a _sou_ for the girl."
"Let me go in, Richard, please," she sobbed.
"Not till I've done," he said, with a half laugh. "Look here, Eve,
dear; you are not such a little silly as to think that I know where
Daisy is, or that I took her away?"
"Tell me, on your word of honour, Richard, that you don't know where she
is," said Eve, simply, "and I shall believe you."
"'Pon my word of honour, I don't know where she is; and I didn't take
her away; and I didn't send her away; and I don't care a fig where she
is, and if I never see her again."
"Richard!"
"There now, are you satisfied?" he cried.
"I believe you, Richard," she said, ceasing to resist, but sitting back
in the garden seat, and looking dreamily away.
"That's all right, then," he said. "Well, then, now we can talk about
when the wedding is to be."
"No, no, Richard; not now, not now," she cried piteously, as she strove
once more to get away.
"But we will, though," said the young man, flushing at her resistance.
"It's all been settled long enough that you were to be my wife, so let's
have none of your `not nows,' miss."
"Let me go into the house, please, Richard," said Eve, coldly.
"Yes, my dear, when we've settled the wedding-day," said Richard.
"We cannot settle that now, Richard," said Eve.
"And why not, pray?"
"Because," she said, with her heart beating and her voice faltering, "I
cannot forget for certainly a year or two, that which has taken place
during the past few weeks."
"What?" he shouted.
"I think you understand me, Richard," said the girl, quietly, and making
no effort now to free the wrist he so tightly held.
"Yes," he said, flushing with passion, "I do understand. You wish to
throw me over because you have been angling for and catching that cursed
intriguing parson."
"Richard!" cried Eve, turning red and stamping her foot upon the ground,
"I will not stop and listen to such language."
"And in a passion, too," he said, mockingly, "because her favourite is
spoken of; but it won't do, madam. You're promised to me, and I wish
the wedding to take place as soon as it can. Don't you think I'm going
to let that beggarly meddling priest come between us."
"This is as cowardly as it is unjustifiable, Richard," exclaimed Eve.
"Is it?" he retorted. "Don't you think I'm blind. I've seen your soft
looks at him; and, curse him, if he comes here again I'll strangle him--
an insidious crafty Jesuit. But don't you think me such a child as to
believe I'm to be treated like this."
"You are hurting my wrist, Richard," said Eve, coldly, and speaking
firmly now, for as her cousin began to bluster she grew calm.
"Hang your wrist," he said angrily; "my hands are not so tender as the
parson's, I suppose."
"Richard," she said, with her voice trembling as she spoke, "Mr Selwood
has always been to me as a gentlemanly, very kind friend, and to you the
best of friends."
"Damn his friendship," said Richard, looking ugly in his wrath. "He's
my enemy, and always has been, and he's trying to win you away. Ah! I
know what it means: I'm to be thrown over, and you take up with him."
"Richard, this is as coarse as it is cruel and unjust," cried Eve, now
regularly roused; "and I will not submit to it. Mr Selwood is nothing
to me but a friend."
"Indeed!" said Richard, with a sneer; "then pray what may this great
change mean?"
"Mean!" she cried, scornfully; and Richard's eyes lit up, for he thought
he had never seen her look so attractive before, "it means that you have
cruelly outraged my feelings by your wickedness and deceit."
"My deceit!" he cried.
"Yes," she said, with contempt: "have you forgotten what I saw that
evening in Ranby Wood? Have you forgotten the past year's neglect and
contemptuous indifference to all my affection? Shame on you, Richard;
shame! You ask me to be your wife, and tell me I am promised to you. I
am; but you have broken the ties, and if I could forgive you, it must be
years hence, when I have learned the truth of your sorrow for what is
past."
Before he could recover from his surprise, she had snatched away her
hand to run, frightened and sobbing, to her own room, where she threw
herself upon her knees, to weep and bewail her wickedness, for she was
beginning to feel that there was some truth in her cousin's words, and
that she had committed a sin, for whose enormity there could be no
pardon.
"What is to become of me?" she wailed in her misery, as she went to her
dressing-table, and started back in affright at her hot, flushed face.
"Oh, is it true that I have behaved as he says, and can Mr Selwood have
seen my boldness?"
She sank into a chair to cover her face with her hands, but only to
start and utter a faint cry as she felt them drawn away, and saw that
Mrs Glaire was looking eagerly down upon her flushed and fevered
cheeks.
Volume 3, Chapter II.