Lady Rossiter, a few days later, put on a comparatively new set of
black fox furs, which helped to enhance in her the agreeable conviction
of being in a position to be kind to those less fortunate than herself,
and drove to Culmouth College.
It was her intention to put the matter of the presentation upon a
sound footing without delay, and she had purposely chosen a Saturday
afternoon for her visit, knowing that the College would be almost empty
and that Fairfax Fuller was generally to be found there alone until
half-past two or three o'clock.
The Supervisor, however--the window of whose private office gazed on
to that side of the street by which the College was approached--proved
strangely difficult of access.
The place seemed almost deserted, but Lady Rossiter encountered
downstairs the small and precocious-looking student of shorthand whom
she and Iris had remarked at the speed test.
"Do you know if Mr. Fuller is here, little boy?" she enquired of him,
with that extra distinct enunciation by which so many people indicate
their consciousness of addressing a social inferior, but also with a
very agreeable smile.
Edna believed much in the power of a smile, and sometimes quoted a few
lines of those popular verses, "Just by smiling."
"Ay," said the little boy.
"Will you go and tell him that a lady would like to see him?" said
Edna, who did not think the youth capable of reporting her name
correctly.
"Ay."
The messenger departed, whistling shrilly, and presently returned
grinning broadly.
"Mr. Fuller, he's so busy as ever he can be. Could you give a message,
like?"
"I'm afraid not," said Edna, suave but firm. "Tell him it's Lady
Rossiter."
"I told him that," said the youth, looking still more amused.
Edna began to feel that the value of smiles might be overrated.
"Thank you. I'd better go myself. I'm so much obliged to you."
She nodded at the little boy rather distantly and went herself to knock
at the closed door of Mr. Fuller's office.
A voice within uttered a short, sharp ejaculation which Lady Rossiter,
with an optimism that did more credit to her imagination than to her
common-sense, interpreted to mean, "Come in!"
The room she entered was thick with the smoke and odour of the
peculiarly rank tobacco affected by Mr. Fairfax Fuller, and in spite of
an open window, a haze of blue fumes hung over the table at which he
sat, his head thrust aggressively forward and his elbows squared.
Few things could have been less expressive of welcome than his
unsmiling "Good afternoon," as he rose to his feet and laid his
cherry-wood pipe upon the table.
"Don't stop smoking, I'm quite used to it," said Lady Rossiter,
gasping a little. "Are you very busy?"
"Yes, very," said Mr. Fuller uncompromisingly.
"Then I mustn't keep you," his visitor smilingly observed. "May I sit
down?"
Fuller moved a chair about two inches in her direction and pushed into
prominence the broad leather strap and silver watch on his hairy and
powerful wrist.
Lady Rossiter affected not to observe this gesture, which she preferred
to attribute to the awkwardness of embarrassment rather than to any
want of cordiality.
"And is all well with our College?" she enquired brightly, and casting
a friendly glance at the papers on the table, all of which Mr. Fuller
immediately thrust into the nearest pigeon-hole.
"The College is all right."
"That's good. You know it's very near my heart. I shall never forget
how we've seen it grow from the very start, and the interest one's had
in every member of the staff. I'm sure you're like me, Mr. Fuller, and
care a great deal about the _human_ element."
Edna paused, but the sympathetic response which might reasonably have
been expected was not forthcoming.
"We've been so like a little family party here, I always
think--especially those of us who saw the very beginning of all things.
Let me see, I think you and I and Sir Julian, and of course Mr. Easter,
are the only ones left of the original committee, aren't we? Oh, and
the old Alderman."
Fuller emitted a sound that might conceivably pass for a rejoinder.
"They're all so pleased about Miss Easter's engagement--a wedding is
always an excitement, isn't it? Have they," said Edna, momentarily
thoughtless, "have they told you of their little scheme for making her
a presentation?"
"As I happen to be Supervisor of the staff, they naturally came to me
in the first place, Lady Rossiter."
"Of course they did. How stupid of me! One forgets all the grades and
distinctions, there are so many of them now. But it was really about
the presentation plans that I wanted to talk to you."
She waited in vain for some assurance that the wish had been in any way
mutual.
"I felt sure that you and I would understand one another," said Edna,
almost pleadingly, "if we had a little talk together."
Silence.
Lady Rossiter could no longer disguise from herself that the little
talk, if it was to take place at all, must do so in the form of an
unsupported monologue. She began courageously:
"I like the idea, you know, and I think it will touch and gratify Miss
Easter and her brother very much indeed. Only these schemes are always
the better for tactful handling, don't you agree with me? We don't
want any little awkwardnesses. And I'm not quite sure that I think
the suggestion of having the presentation made by poor Miss Marchrose
was a very wise one. Now, Mr. Fuller, I know I can speak to you in
confidence, and I'm going to say something that I should never dream
of saying to any other member of the staff. I am sorry to tell you
that there are reasons--I needn't go into them, they are very painful
ones--why Miss Marchrose should not be selected to offer this little
present to a young and innocent girl on behalf of the staff. I know I
need not go into details."
Fuller stared at Lady Rossiter with dark, smouldering eyes.
"I'm perfectly satisfied with Miss Marchrose's behaviour since she's
been here," he growled at last.
Up went Edna's eyebrows, all too expressively. "That's as it may be,
Mr. Fuller. A woman is sometimes a good deal more clear-sighted than a
man, in certain matters. But I happen to have heard a good deal about
Miss Marchrose before she came here at all, and as a member of the
General Committee, and also of Mr. Cooper's little committee for the
presentation, I may tell you that I very decidedly veto any suggestion
of letting her represent the staff of this College."
The Supervisor looked her full in the eyes.
"Are you telling me, Lady Rossiter, that that girl isn't straight?"
Edna's opaque white skin, that seldom registered alteration, coloured
faintly.
"Mr. Fuller, God forbid that I should condemn any woman unheard. I
won't pretend not to know what you mean."
"I can put it plainer if you like," Fuller retorted. "But I want yes or
no, Lady Rossiter."
"Then," said Edna with dignity, "as far as I can tell, _no_."
"I should damned well think not," exploded Fairfax Fuller, without a
trace of apology. "I take my orders from Sir Julian Rossiter, and until
he's lost confidence in me, I run this staff the way I think best.
You'll excuse me, Lady Rossiter, if I say that I think we've discussed
the matter long enough."
Edna stood up, more angry than she had ever allowed herself to be since
the days of her girlhood.
"You forget yourself altogether, Mr. Fuller, and I feel certain that
you will be the first person to realise that an apology is due to me
when you are yourself again."
For all answer, Fuller opened the door and banged it to again almost
before she had crossed the threshold.
Lady Rossiter, in the hall outside, found her knees shaking under her
in a manner hitherto unknown to her. Fairfax Fuller's temper, displayed
after the fashion of his kind, was a return to nature of which she had
never before had experience. Not devoid of an instinctive reluctance to
being found, shaken and agitated, in the College which had only been
allowed to see her as a serene visiting goddess, Edna almost furtively
made her way upstairs in search of an empty classroom in which to calm
herself.
A general quiet pervaded the upper floor of the building; the smell
of soap and water upon newly-scrubbed boards proclaimed the recent
presence of the usual Saturday afternoon charwoman. Lady Rossiter,
still shaking, felt the imperative need of a champion, and murmured
something indignant to herself about a woman alone, which was shortly
afterwards disproved by a distant and subdued sound of unceasing
voices. Edna reflected that even young Cooper might be of solace, and
was also not averse from seizing the opportunity of disclaiming all
further connection with the presentation of Iris' wedding-present.
She rose wearily, crossing the lobby in search of the just-audible
voice that she judged to come from the smallest and most remote
classroom. The door was shut, but through the upper panels of glass
Lady Rossiter was only too well enabled to perceive that which struck
fresh dismay to her mind.
Miss Marchrose was sitting at a small table in the window, her back to
the door, her head bent, and her hands idle in her lap. Beside her sat
Mark Easter, his voice still audible, and in front of him a disordered
pile of papers at which he made no pretence of looking.
Lady Rossiter drew back almost upon the instant, but she had seen that
he was speaking much more earnestly than was usual with him.
From sheer desire to gain time in which to consider these unwelcome
phenomena, Edna retreated once more to the room across the landing.
She remained there in thought for nearly twenty minutes, subconsciously
aware that the murmur of those two voices went on almost without
intermission the while.
The noise as of heavily-nailed boots galloping up the uncarpeted stairs
came to distract her, and the little boy whom she had seen earlier in
the afternoon burst into the room.
"Were you looking for me?" Lady Rossiter enquired rather severely.
"Mr. Fuller axed me if you were here still."
"It's almost time for my car to call for me," Edna said with dignity.
"I am just coming down."
She had entirely regained her usual poise, and faced Fairfax Fuller,
who stood at the open door of his room, obviously awaiting her, with
perfect composure.
The Supervisor looked very much heated, but spoke with grim formality.
"I must apologise for the expression I used to you just now, Lady
Rossiter."
Edna looked at him for a moment, and then let the wide charity of her
slowly-dawning smile envelop his very patent anger and confusion.
"But that's quite enough! Perhaps we both grew rather excited; but
after all, the best of friends must have their little quarrels. I am
more than ready to forget."
"Say no more about it," muttered Fuller, obviously under the impression
that he was gracefully bringing matters to a conclusion.
"Ah, but one word more I must say," Edna interposed quickly. "You know,
I'm afraid I must hold quite, quite firm about the presentation. Or
perhaps I had better tell Mr. Cooper that, much as I appreciate having
been consulted, I prefer to withdraw from his committee."
Fuller's bulldog jaw was set hard.
"That's as you like, of course."
If Edna had not expected such a rejoinder, the tremor with which she
received it was all but imperceptible.
"I'm sorry we don't see things in the same light," she said sweetly,
"and I can't tell you how heartily glad I should be to find myself in
the wrong about poor Miss Marchrose."
She hesitated for a moment, but neither the voice nor the expression
of Mr. Fairfax Fuller appeared to denote any readiness to resume a
discussion previously so much fraught with verbal disaster. So Edna,
almost hearing herself pause to think, "Is it kind, is it wise, is it
true?" said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Fuller," with perfect cordiality, and
descended the stairs, unescorted by the Supervisor.
On the doorstep she encountered old Alderman Bellew, who greeted her
with the more cordiality that he had expected to find Sir Julian, of
whom he was rather afraid.
"Seeing the car outside, I thought Sir Julian might have run in for a
moment on business, and I was anxious to see him. But it'll keep--it'll
very well keep. I've had a little walk for nothing, that's all, and it
won't do me any harm."
The obese old man was panting.
"May I give you a lift anywhere? I always think that's the best of a
car--one can be of use to people who haven't got one."
"Well, I declare that's very kind of you. Would the Council House be
out of your way?"
"Not at all."
The Alderman dropped thankfully on to the comfortable seat offered him.
"Did you want to see my husband?" Edna sweetly enquired, not devoid of
curiosity.
"Only on a little matter of business connected with the College. It
came into my mind that I could get a word with him when I saw the car
outside the door. But I daresay I shall see him next week--or I can
drop him a line."
"Even Julian," said Lady Rossiter intentionally, "is hardly more
interested in our College than I am. You know how I've followed its
career from the very beginning and always kept in the closest possible
touch with the members of the staff. And I needn't tell you that I've
never yet missed a General Committee meeting."
"Have you not, indeed!" responded the Alderman, obviously debating
in his own mind whether or not he should take Lady Rossiter into his
further confidence with regard to the affairs of Culmouth College.
She maintained a tactful silence.
"The fact is, Lady Rossiter, that a suggestion has been made--this
is quite confidential, you understand--for opening a new branch
of the College. They're asking for something of the same kind in
Gloucestershire, and it appears that the municipal authorities are
ready enough to guarantee the funds. I have a very gratifying letter,
which I want your husband to see, speaking in most complimentary terms
of our little show here. Of course, it's quite understood to be more or
less run on philanthropic lines. That chap Fuller has done marvels, and
actually achieved a balance on the right side, but the concern isn't
primarily meant to be a paying one, as I needn't tell you."
"No, indeed. One's idea was to fit the wage-earners rather more for
their task--to help the inhabitants of our little corner of the Empire
to help themselves."
"Quite so. And apparently the fame of our little enterprise has
spread," said the old man, with great satisfaction. "They actually want
me to send a representative to look at the buildings they have in view,
and put things in train a bit. Rather gratifying for little Culmouth,
eh?"
"Yes, indeed."
"Of course, it all depends on Sir Julian's consent--naturally, that's
an understood thing. After all he's done for us, and his position and
all."
"I am quite sure you may count upon him," said Edna graciously. "He
will appreciate the compliment to our small experiment as much as I do."
If the good Alderman felt slightly puzzled at the extremely proprietary
attitude adopted by his listener, he knew better than to give any sign
of it.
"There'll be great excitement amongst the staff," he said. "But, of
course, they'll know nothing about it for the present."
"There's something rather unsettled about the staff just now," Edna
thoughtfully rejoined. "You know how things can be _felt_ in the air
sometimes, and I've fancied rather an absence of our usual _esprit de
corps_ lately. I haven't quite known what to attribute it to----"
Being at all events perfectly well aware of what she was going to
attribute it to now, Lady Rossiter only paused long enough to make sure
that the Alderman, listening open-mouthed, had no theory to put forward.
"May I speak quite frankly, and in confidence?"
"Of course, of course."
"It's a thing that's rather difficult to speak of at all, but, of
course, you know Mr. Easter's circumstances as well as I do. He is a
married man."
Alderman Bellew, looking more astounded than ever, gave a breathless
nod of assent.
"And also," said Edna, smiling a little, "he happens to be an extremely
attractive person. Consequently, when a young--a fairly young--woman
spends her Saturday afternoons typing at the estate office, and then
has herself escorted home afterwards, and keeps all her civility,
and all her smiles, and all her conversation, for one particular
person--well, one is inclined to wonder a little, that's all."
"Bless my soul!" ejaculated the astonished Alderman.
Edna suddenly became grave.
"You understand that I'm not, for one single instant, hinting at any
sort or kind of--of understanding or flirtation between them. I know
Mark, I suppose, better than anybody else on earth knows him, and I
trust him absolutely. But I needn't tell you--a man is a man."
"Of course," said the Alderman portentously, as one resolved to rise to
the occasion, "we really know very little about _her_. I suppose you
mean the Lady Superintendent?"
"Yes, poor Miss Marchrose. Don't think that I would willingly say an
unkind word about her, for _indeed_ I could never cast the first stone.
But I've been uneasy for some time, and this afternoon it gave me a
little shock to see something--oh, never mind what! A straw very often
shows which way the wind blows."
Having by this reticence left the simple-minded Alderman to infer the
existence of a whole truss of straw at the very least, Lady Rossiter
leant back and closed her eyes, as though in weary retrospect.
"It would never do to have talk of that kind going about, Lady
Rossiter. Demoralise the staff in a moment, you know. I remember rather
a similar case, years ago, in the big insurance office where I started
life. One of the partners played the fool--nothing wrong, you know, but
there was a pretty typist, and he was for ever sending for her to take
down letters, and the others got talking--you can guess the sort of
thing. The girl had to get the sack, of course."
The matter-of-factness of this conclusion was against all Lady
Rossiter's avowed principles of championship of her sex, and
consistency would not allow her to assent. But she gave a heavy sigh,
and said:
"I know the sort of thing you mean, and gossip spreads so easily in
a little community like ours. I can't help knowing, either, that one
or two people have already noticed the way in which Miss Marchrose
behaves."
"Oh, well, you know," leniently remarked the old man, "it may not be
altogether her doing. Easter has no business to forget he's a married
man."
"I am afraid," Edna answered with reserve, "that I know one or two
things about Miss Marchrose which go to show that she is not exactly
an inexperienced person. Besides, women have very strong instincts
sometimes, and get to know a good deal by intuition. I will tell you
perfectly honestly, Mr. Bellew, that I've never altogether trusted her,
although it seems a hard thing to say."
Perhaps the Alderman was somewhat of the same opinion.
"What does Sir Julian think?"
"He has comparatively few opportunities of judging; and besides, I
haven't really discussed the matter with him. One does dislike anything
of that sort so intensely, it's very difficult sometimes to speak of
it."
"Yes, yes, Lady Rossiter--of course. But you mustn't distress yourself,
on any account. That would never do. You know, the girl can go."
Edna was sincerely horrified at this ruthless cutting of the Gordian
knot.
"Oh, but it's her livelihood! We could hardly turn her away like that,
unless there was anything definite. There should always be infinite
pitifulness, to my mind. Mine is only a humble little creed, but that's
the keynote of it all. Long-suffering. Sometimes a woman can do more
than a man in such cases. Much as one would dislike it, perhaps one
might say a word or two."
"Well, well, it's very good of you, I'm sure. The poor thing may be in
a false position altogether," said the Alderman, with more compassion
than Edna, in spite of her creed, thought altogether called for by the
possible plight of the Lady Superintendent.
"I know I can rely on you to keep all this to yourself absolutely.
Perhaps I ought hardly to have spoken, but it gave me a great shock
this afternoon. However, we needn't go into that. There is really
nothing to be done, except to be very much on one's guard as to
possible gossip amongst the staff."
"We must await developments," said the Alderman solemnly.
On this noncommittal _cliché_, he thanked Lady Rossiter very much for
having brought him to the steps of the Council House, and ponderously
ascended them, still evidently full of thought as to her hinted
revelations.
Edna, deeply reflective, was motored back to Culmhayes. The question
of the presentation had almost been driven from her mind by the
preoccupation engendered at the sight of Mark Easter and Miss
Marchrose in their companionable solitude. Her suspicions, already
stirring, were now in a lively state of activity, and her feelings
divided between an unconscious satisfaction in having been proved a
true prophet and a very real apprehension as to the condition of Mark
Easter's affections. She remained, however, carefully compassionate in
her thoughts of the chief culprit, and was resolved that no impetuosity
of Alderman Bellew's should summarily deprive Miss Marchrose of a good
post, and incidentally provide her with a grievance.
Edna's appeal to the Alderman had been as nearly impulsive as any
utterance of hers ever could be. She had chosen her words--as she
always did--but the instinct that had moved her to speak at all was the
age-old and overmastering desire of drawing attention instantly to the
failure of a fellow-creature in subscribing to the recognised code.
She consecrated several grave moments of thought to the situation,
which she mentally qualified as a problem, although she would have been
puzzled to define the exact necessity for a solution.
In her own room, Lady Rossiter became still further conscious of the
disturbed state of her spirits.
She rang for her maid.
"Shall I take your furs, m'lady?"
Edna parted with her last shred of calm, in some mysterious fashion,
when the comfortable and eminently becoming weight was lifted from her
shoulders.
"I am very tired, Mason," she remarked patiently.
"Yes, m'lady? It's rather tiring weather," said Mason woodenly.
"I don't know about that. But when one thinks a great deal about other
people--their weakness and ingratitude and folly--it seems to wear one
out, somehow."
"I've mended the blue tea-gown, m'lady. Shall I put it out?"
"No," said Edna, with most unwonted sharpness.
It seemed to her that Mason was a woman on whom it was extraordinarily
difficult to make any impression. Edna sedulously "took an interest" in
all her servants, and made a point of lending books to her own maid,
but never had she met with one less responsive to her influence.
She compressed her lips slightly, and made the small, collected pause
with which it was her custom to counter such rare tendencies to
irritability as she ever experienced.
The instant's recollection was followed, as always, by a flow of
larger, more serene charity, enveloping successfully even the
recalcitrant Mason.
"I hope you have a nice book for Sunday, Mason. I know it's your great
day for reading."
"Yes, thank you, m'lady."
Lady Rossiter's thoughts dwelt tenderly on those copies of Ruskin and
Stevenson, in the rather cheaper editions, which she kept for purposes
of lending. She had drawn attention to several passages in them by
faint scorings in pencil.
"Well, and which is it?"
Mason looked blanker than ever.
"What, m'lady?"
"Which book are you reading, Mason?"
The silence that ensued might, from Mason's expression, have been
construed as one both sulky and resentful, but Edna waited with
implacable sunniness.
Finally the maid, opening the door for her mistress, replied in a
vicious manner:
"Well, m'lady, at the present, I'm reading a sweetly pretty story
called 'East Lynne.'"