AT HER GATES.
Mr. Bell was as thin as his wife was fat, and as quiet and unassuming as
she was bumptious and talkative. On the occasion of this memorable
supper he very nearly drove his better half into fits by his utter want
of observation.
"It's that that worries me in Bell," the good woman was often heard to
say. "When a thing is as plain as the nose on his face he won't see it.
And not all my hints will make him see it. Hints!--You might hint
forever to Bell, and he wouldn't know what you were driving at."
These remarks Mrs. Bell had made, times without number, concerning her
spouse, but never had ehe more cause to give utterance to them than on
the present occasion. For just when the whole party were seated at
supper, and she by the boldest manoeuvres had placed Captain Bertram
next to herself by the coffee-tray, and had planted Matty at his other
side, so that he was in a measure hemmed in, and if he did not talk to
Matty had no one to fall back on but herself, who, of course, would
quickly, using the metaphor of battledore and shuttlecock, toss him back
to her daughter--having arranged all this, what should Bell do but put
his foot in it?
"Captain Bertram," he called in his thin voice across the table, "I hope
you enjoyed your row, and I'm proud to see you at my humble board. But
come up here, my good young sir; you're quite smothered by the missis
and the teacups. We have fine room at this end, haven't we, Beatrice?
You come away up here, Captain Bertram, where you'll have room to use
your elbows; the missis mustn't keep you to herself altogether, that
ain't fair play."
"Oh, we're as comfortable as possible, Peter," almost screamed Mrs.
Bell.
But in vain. The captain was too acute a person not to seize this
opportunity. He said a courteous word or two to Mrs. Bell, apologized
for having already crowded her, smiled at Matty, and then with a light
heart seated himself beside Beatrice.
After this, matters seemed to go wrong as far as the Bells were
concerned. It is true that after supper Beatrice called Matty to her
side, and looked over a photographic album with her, and tried hard to
draw her into the gay conversation and to get her to reply to the light
repartee which Captain Bertram so deftly employed. But, alas for poor
Matty she had no conversational powers; she was only great at
interjections, at ceaseless giggling, and at violent and uncontrollable
fits of blushing. Even Beatrice felt a sense of repulsion at the very
open way in which Matty played her innocent cards. Matty was in love,
and she showed it by voice, look and gesture. Beatrice tried to shield
her, she was mortified for her, and felt a burning sense of resentment
against the captain.
In spite, however, of the resentment of the one girl, and the too
manifest admiration of the other, this hero managed to have pretty much
his own way. Beatrice had to reply to his sallies, she was forced to
meet his eyes; now and then even he drew a smile from her.
When the time came for Miss Meadowsweet to go home, Albert Bell was
eagerly summoned to accompany her.
"This is unnecessary," said the captain; "I will see Miss Meadowsweet
back to the Gray House."
"Oh, now, Captain! Bee, don't you think it's really too much for him?"
"Of course I don't, dear Mrs. Bell," said Beatrice, stopping the good
lady's lips with a kiss; "but Albert shall come too, so that I shall be
doubly escorted."
She nodded and smiled to her hostess, and Mrs. Bell felt a frantic
desire to send Matty with her brother, but some slight sense of decorum
prevented her making so bare-faced a suggestion.
Albert Bell was very proud to walk with Beatrice, and Captain Bertram
felt proportionately sulky. To Albert's delight, who wanted to confide
his own love affairs to Bee, the captain said good-night at the top of
the High Street.
"As you have an escort I won't come any further," he said. "When are we
to see you again? Will you come to the Manor to-morrow?"
"I don't know," said Beatrice, "I've made no plans for to-morrow."
"Then come to us; Catherine told me to ask you. Our tennis court is in
prime order. Do come; will you promise?"
"I won't quite promise, but I'll come if I can."
"Thanks; we shall look out for you."
He shook hands, gave her an earnest glance, nodded to Bell and turned
away. His evening had been a partial success, but not a whole one. He
left Beatrice, as he almost always did, with a sense of irritation. It
was her frank and open indifference that impelled him to her side.
Indifference when Captain Bertram chose to woo was an altogether novel
experience to so fascinating an individual. Hitherto it had been all the
other way. He had flirted many times, and with success. Once even he had
fallen in love; he owned to himself that he had been badly hit, but
there had been no doubt at all about his love being returned, it had
been given back to him in full and abundant measure. He sighed to-night
as he thought of that passionate episode. He remembered ardent words,
and saw again a face which had once been all the world to him.
Separation had come, however; his was not a stable nature, and the old
love, the first love, had given place to many minor flirtations.
"I wonder where my old love is now," he thought, and then again he felt
a sense of irritation as he remembered Beatrice. "She is quite the
coolest girl I have ever met," he said to himself. "But I'll win her
yet. Yes, I'm determined. Am I to eat the bread of humiliation in vain?
Faugh! Am I to make love to a creature like Matty Bell in the vain hope
of rousing the envy or the jealousy of that proud girl? I don't believe
she has got either envy or jealousy. She seemed quite pleased when I
spoke to that wretched little personage, although she had the grace to
look a trifle ashamed for her sex when Miss Matty so openly made love to
me. Well, this is a slow place, and yet, when I think of that
haughty--no, though, she's not haughty--that imperturbable Beatrice
Meadowsweet, it becomes positively interesting.
"Why has the girl these airs? And her father kept a shop, too! I found
that fact out from Matty Bell to-day. What a spiteful, teasing little
gnat that same Matty is, trying to sting her best friend. What a little
mock ridiculous air she put on when she tried to explain to me the
social status of a coal merchant (I presume Bell is a coal merchant)
_versus_ a draper."
As Bertram strolled along, avoiding the High Street, and choosing the
coast line for his walk, he lazily smoked a pipe, and thought, in that
idle indifferent way with which men of his stamp always do exercise
their mental faculties, about his future. His past, his present, his
possible future rose up before the young fellow. He was harassed by
duns, he was, according to his own way of thinking, reduced to an almost
degrading state of poverty. His mother had put her hand to a bill for a
considerable amount to save him. He was morally certain that she would
have to meet that bill, and when she met it that she would be half
ruined. Nevertheless, he felt gay, and light at heart, for men of his
class are seldom troubled with remorse.
Presently he reached the lodge gates. His mother's fad about having them
locked was always religiously kept, and he grumbled now as he sought for
a latch-key in his waistcoat-pocket.
He opened the side gate and let himself in; the gate had a spring, and
was so constructed that it could shut and lock itself by the same act.
Bertram was preparing to walk quickly up the avenue when he was startled
by a sudden morement; a tall slim apparition in gray came slowly out of
the darkness, caused by the shadow of the lodge, to meet him.
"Good God!" he said; and he stepped back, and his heart thumped hard
against his breast.
"It's me, Loftus--I'm back again--I'm with you again," said a voice
which thrilled him.
The girl in gray flung her arms around his neck, and laid her head of
red gold on his breast.
"Good God! Nina! Josephine! Where have you come from? I was thinking of
you only tonight. It's a year since we met. Where have you sprung from?
Out of the sky, or the earth? Look at me, witch, look in my face!"
He put his hand under her chin, raised her very fair oval face; (the
moonlight fell full on it--he could see it well); he looked long and
hungrily into her eyes, then kissed her eagerly several times.
"Where have you come from?" he repeated. "My God! to think I was walking
to meet you in such a calm fashion this evening."
"You never were very calm, Loftie, nor was I. Feel my heart--I am almost
in a tempest of joy at meeting you again. I knew you'd be glad. You
couldn't help yourself."
"I'm glad and I'm sorry. You know you intoxicate me, witch--I thought I
had got over that old affair. What: don't flash your eyes at me. Oh,
yes, Nina, I am glad, I am delighted to see you once again."
"And to kiss me, and love me again?"
"Yes, to kiss you and love you again."
"How soon will you marry me, Loftie?"
"We needn't talk about that to-night. Tell me why you have come, and
how. Where is your grandfather? Do you still sing in the streets for a
living?"
"Hush, you insult me. I am a rich girl now."
"You rich? What a joke!"
"No, it is a reality. Riches go by comparison, and Josephine Hart has an
income--therefore she is rich compared to the Josephine who had none.
When will you marry me, Loftie?"
"Little puss! We'll talk of that another day."
He stroked her cheek, put his arm around her waist and kissed her many
times.
"You have not told me yet why you came here," he said.
She laughed.
"I came here because my own sweet will directed me. I have taken rooms
here at this lodge. The man called Tester and his wife will attend on
me."
"Good gracious! at my mother's very gates Is that wise, Nina."
"Wise or unwise I have done it."
"To be near me?"
"Partly."
"Nina, you half frighten me. You are not going to do me an injury? It
will prejudice my mother seriously if she finds out my--my--"
"Your love for me," finished Josephine.
"Yes."
"Why will it prejudice her?"
"Need I--must I tell you? My mother is proud; she--she would almost
disown me if I made a _mésalliance_."
Nina flung back her head.
"You talk like a boy," she said. "When you marry me you save, not
degrade, yourself. Ah, I know a secret. Such a secret! Such a blessed,
blessed, happy secret for me. It is turning me into a good girl. It
causes my heart to sing. When I think of it I revel in delight; when I
think of it I could dance: when I remember it I could shout with
exultation."
"Nina, what do you mean?"
"Nothing that you must know. I rejoice in my secret because it brings me
to you, and you to me. You degrade yourself by marrying me? You'll say
something else some day. Now, goodnight. I'm going back to Tester. He's
stone deaf, and he's waiting up for me. Good-night--good-night. No,
Loftus, I won't injure you. I injure those I hate, not those I love."
She kissed her hand to him. He tried to catch the slim fingers to press
them to his lips, but with a gay laugh she vanished, shutting the lodge
door after her. Loftus Bertram walked up the avenue with the queerest
sensation of terror and rejoicing.