Summer was on the wane and autumn was busy early colouring the leaves.
Edward Morgan had intended returning to Wortheton before the finish of
the warm weather; but many things prevented him from carrying out his
wish; and the weeks went by without any sign from him, save the regular
arrival of the monthly parcel of books, which Prudence as regularly
acknowledged, writing a frank girlish letter of thanks, which took
longer to compose than the subject matter warranted. The difficulty of
writing those letters increased with each repetition of the performance.
He never wrote to her. He did not even address the parcels; they came
direct from the bookseller. Had he sent a few friendly lines with his
gifts it would have made the task of acknowledgment easier.
Each time that he received one of these brief inconsequent epistles Mr
Morgan opened it eagerly and hastily read it in the always vain hope of
finding the wish expressed therein that he would fulfil his promise to
revisit Wortheton. But Prudence made no mention of this matter. And he
locked the letters away in a private drawer and waited in patient
hopefulness for the next. The next letter invariably roused similar
emotions and brought further disappointment on perusal. Mr Morgan
proved of his own experience that being in love is not a happy condition
of mind.
On the whole Prudence enjoyed the possession of an undeclared suitor: it
gave her a sense of importance, a sense too of future security. She
could regard with indifference the acid rigour of Agatha's authority and
brother William's pompous displeasure. William had been extremely
annoyed by the arrival of the new bicycle, and had made unpleasant
observations about Prudence's roaming habits and her propensity for
making casual and undesirable acquaintances. It was very evident that
William considered that his sister rode abroad in quest of these
adventures. His insinuations exasperated her, but they did not shake
her determination to ride when and where she pleased.
It was soon after the arrival of the new cycle, when she was enjoying
her first long rides after the accident, that she met again the man
whose kindness to her lingered pleasantly in her memory, despite the
shock of disillusion which had eclipsed much of the brightness of the
recollection. The encounter sprung upon her unaware. She had neither
expected nor wished to meet Major Stotford again. But when he overtook
her in his car, and stopped the car a few yards ahead of her and waited
for her to come up with it, there was no doubt in Prudence's mind as to
what she ought to do. She ceased peddling and alighted. Major
Stotford, who was alone, opened the door of the car and stepped into the
road beside her.
"A piece of good luck!" he said, shaking hands. "I've often wondered
about you. There is no need to ask if you have quite recovered. So
they let you ride again?"
"They didn't want to; it was a fight," Prudence said, and laughed.
"Yes!" he said, smiling too. "I imagined you would have difficulty.
I'm glad you won. They didn't tell you, I suppose, that I called to
inquire a few days after our adventure?"
"No; they didn't tell me," she replied, and flushed slightly. "It was
very kind of you. I didn't know."
"I thought possibly it might not get to your knowledge," he said coolly,
and surveyed her flushed face with keen appreciation. "I was not
allowed to see you, but was privileged to interview your brother
instead. I have never approved of substitutes, and discovered on that
occasion no good reason for reconsidering my prejudice. I'm delighted
to meet you again anyhow."
His frankness embarrassed Prudence; but she recalled his kindness and
the service he had done her, and felt further vexation with her family.
"I'm glad too," she said, playing nervously with the little bell on her
handle-bar. He took hold of the handle-bar also and became immensely
interested in the machine.
"It's a new one, isn't it?" he said. "Surely the other wasn't past
repairing?"
"I don't know. They got rid of it."
"I see." His eyes twinkled. "And you compelled them to make good.
They have done it quite handsomely. Your persuasive powers must be
considerably greater than mine."
"I threatened to hire," said Prudence, and immediately realised on
hearing him laugh that this admission was disloyal to the family. She
lifted her eyes with a flash of pride in them to his smiling face.
"Father is always generous," she said. "He wouldn't trust the old cycle
again, though the spill was entirely my fault. I'm cautious in regard
to dogs now."
"Yes," he agreed, the smile deepening. "Caution is a quality which the
wise cultivate. Possibly had I not considerably neglected it I should
have been more successful--socially. But these things are so dull."
He took his hand off the handle-bar and straightened himself and looked
down at her with a quick resolve in his face.
"We managed to find room for the old cycle," he said. "I don't see why
there need be any difficulty in stowing this away. What do you say?
Will you drive with me?"
For the fraction of a second Prudence hesitated. She did not want to
drive with him. She knew that if she agreed she could not speak of it
at home: there was something a little shameful in doing what must of
necessity be done secretly. But the memory of that former occasion on
which she had been glad enough to make use of his car was in her mind,
and made a refusal to accept the present invitation appear pointedly
ungracious.
"You would rather not?" he said reproachfully.
Prudence made up her mind on the instant.
"Thank you, I should like it. But couldn't we leave the bicycle
somewhere and pick it up on our return?"
"We could," he said. "That's not a bad idea. There's an inn a quarter
of a mile along the road. I'll drive on so that you shan't be smothered
in dust, and you follow; then we'll house the bicycle and go for a joy
ride."
He re-entered the car and drove off; while Prudence, waiting for the
cloud of dust which he raised to subside, stood beside her machine,
dismayed at the realisation of what she had consented to do, and
considering whether it would not be wiser to head her cycle in the
opposite direction and ride home. But reflection showed her the
impossibility of acting in so ungracious a manner. She should have
declined his invitation in the first instance; to evade the engagement
now was unthinkable.
When she arrived at the inn it was to discover that Major Stotford had
made the necessary arrangements; it only remained for her to relinquish
her cycle to the man who stood ready to take it, and climb to her seat
in the car. Despite a determination to enjoy herself and banish
disquieting thoughts, Prudence was conscious of feeling not entirely at
her ease with her companion. She could not have explained this sense of
mistrust. There was nothing in Major Stotford's manner to arouse it;
she decided that possibly it resulted from what she had learned in
regard to his private life. That ugly story coloured all her thoughts
of him, and revealed him in an unfavourable light. She had not met this
type of man before.
Nevertheless he interested her. He talked well. And he was so
manifestly enjoying himself and showed such eagerness to please her that
Prudence made an effort to shake off her uneasiness and share his
pleasure in the excursion. But when he stopped at a little village some
miles further on and took her into a place where they catered for
tourists, the old disquieting feeling came back intensified; and she
knew that she was not enjoying herself, that she shrank from appearing
in public with a man whose acquaintance she had been forbidden. There
was no longer any doubt in her mind that she had acted indiscreetly.
"I would rather go on," she said. "I don't want tea, and I mustn't be
late."
"We shan't be here many minutes," he replied. "And you must have
something. Rushing through the air gives me an appetite. I'll get you
back in good time, if I have to exceed the speed limit. We've been
doing that already."
He carried his point and led her within. They were shown into a little
room where a table was laid for tea. There was no one else in the room,
though from across the passage voices were audible and the sound of
clinking china in proof that other travellers were taking refreshment.
Major Stotford looked about him critically, flung his gloves on a chair,
and advised Prudence to sit down and rest.
"I'll go and order something to eat," he said.
Prudence, who was standing near the window, looking out on a regiment of
tall hollyhocks and a group of flaming dahlias blooming in the little
garden, made no response; and he left the room, closing the door behind
him.
With the closing of the door she faced about, feeling extraordinarily
like a person trapped. It was absurd of course; but her heart beat with
uncomfortable rapidity, and excitement flushed her face and lent a
brightness to her eyes. She moved about the room restlessly examining
the gaudy prints on the walls and the hideous design of the Brussels
carpet; but was unable to fix her attention on anything, and wandered
back to the window again.
There was a flavour of wrong-doing in this adventure which troubled her.
The fear of being found out loomed with ugly insistence in the
foreground of her ideas. She wished he had been satisfied simply to
drive with her. This unforeseen development with its intimate
suggestion of confidential relations vexed her. Intuition told her that
in the circumstances he should have refrained from taking this step.
Then the door opened again to admit him. He came in, confident and
smiling, and joined her where she stood at the window.