Malcolm is not attractive, and I was glad the church was not far off.
No carriages are allowed out on Sunday, so we had to walk; and coming back
it began to rain, and we could not go round the stables, which I
understand is the custom here every Sunday.
Everything is done because it is the custom, not because you want to amuse
yourself.
"When it rains and we can't go round the stables," Kirstie said, "we look
at the old _Illustrated London News_, and go on our way from afternoon
church."
I did not particularly want to do that, so stayed in my room as long as I
could. The four girls were seated at a large table in the hall, each with
a volume in front of her when I got down at last. They must know every
picture by heart, if they do it every Sunday it rains--they stay in
England all the winter.
Jean made room for me beside her.
"I am at the 'Sixties,'" she said. "I finished the 'Fifties' last Easter."
So they evidently do even this with a method.
I asked her if there were not any new books they wanted to read, but she
said Lady Katherine did not care for their looking at magazines or novels
unless she had been through them first, and she had not time for many, so
they kept the few they had to read between tea and dinner on Sunday.
By this time I felt I should do something wicked; and if the luncheon gong
had not sounded, I do not know what would have happened.
Mr. Montgomerie said rather gallant things to me when the cheese and port
came along, while the girls looked shocked, and Lady Katherine had a stony
stare. I suppose he is like this because he is married. I wonder, though,
if young married men are the same. I have never met any yet.
By Monday night I was beginning to feel the end of the world would come
soon. It is ten times worse than ever having had to conceal all my
feelings and abjectly obey Mrs. Carruthers. Because she did say cynical,
entertaining things sometimes to me, and to her friends, that made one
laugh. And one felt it was only she who made the people who were dependent
upon her do her way, because she herself was so selfish, and that the rest
of the world were free if once one got outside.
But Lady Katherine and the whole Montgomerie _milieu_ give you the
impression that everything and everybody must be ruled by rules; and no
one could have a right to an individual opinion in any sphere of society.
You simply can't laugh--they asphyxiate you. I am looking forward to this
afternoon and Mr. Carruthers coming over. I often think of the days at
Branches, and how exciting it was, with those two, and I wish I were back
again.
I have tried to be polite and nice to them all here, and yet they don't
seem absolutely pleased.
Malcolm gazes at me with sheep's eyes. They are a washy blue, with the
family white eyelashes (how different to Lord Robert's!). He has the most
precise, regulated manner, and never says a word of slang; he ought to
have been a young curate, and I can't imagine his spending money on any
Angela Greys, even if she is a horse or not.
He speaks to me when he can, and asks me to go for walks round the golf
course. The four girls play for an hour and three-quarters every morning.
They never seem to enjoy anything--the whole of life is a solid duty. I am
sitting up in my room, and Véronique has had the sense to have my fire
lighted early. I suppose Mr. Carruthers won't come until about four--an
hour more to be got through. I have said I must write letters, and so
have escaped from them and not had to go for the usual drive.
I suppose he will have the sense to ask for me, even if Lady Katherine is
not back when he comes.
This morning it was so fine and frosty a kind of devil seemed to creep
into me. I have been _so_ good since Saturday, so when Malcolm said, in
his usual prim, priggish voice, "Miss Travers, may I have the pleasure of
taking you for a little exercise," I jumped up without consulting Lady
Katherine, and went and put my things on, and we started.
I had a feeling that they were all thinking I was doing something wrong,
and so, of course, it made me worse. I said every kind of simple thing I
could to Malcolm to make him jump, and looked at him now and then from
under my eyelashes. So when we got to a stile, he did want to help me, and
his eyes were quite wobblish. He has a giggle right up in the treble, and
it comes out at such unexpected moments, when there is nothing to laugh
at. I suppose it is being Scotch--he has just caught the meaning of some
former joke. There would never be any use in saying things to him like to
Lord Robert and Mr. Carruthers, because one would have left the place
before he understood, if even then.
There was an old Sir Thomas Farquharson who came to Branches, and he
grasped the deepest jokes of Mrs. Carruthers--so deep that even I did not
understand them--and he was Scotch. It may be they are like that only when
they have red hair.
When I was seated on top of a stile, Malcolm suddenly announced:
"I hear you are going to London when you go. I hope you will let me come
and see you; but I wish you lived here always."
"I don't," I said, and then I remembered that sounded rather rude, and
they had been kind to me. "At least, you know, I think the country is
dull; don't you--for always?"
"Yes," he replied, primly, "for men, but it is where I should always wish
to see the woman I respected."
"Are towns so wicked?" I asked, in my little-angel voice. "Tell me of
their pitfalls, so that I may avoid them."
"You must not believe everything people say to you, to begin with," he
said, seriously. "For one so young as you, I am afraid you will find your
path beset with temptations."
"Oh, do tell me what!" I implored. "I have always wanted to know what
temptations were. Please tell me. If you come to see me--would you be a
temptation, or is temptation a thing and not a person?" I looked at him
so beseechingly he never for a second saw the twinkle in my eye.
He coughed pompously. "I expect I should be," he said modestly.
"Temptations are--er--er--Oh, I say, you know, I say--I don't know what to
say."
"Oh, what a pity!" I said, regretfully. "I was hoping to hear all about it
from you, especially if you are one yourself; you must know."
He looked gratified, but still confused.
"You see, when you are quite alone in London, some man may make love to
you."
"Oh, do you think so, _really_?" I asked, aghast. "That, I suppose, would
be frightful, if I were by myself in the room. Would it do, do you think,
if I left the sitting-room door open and kept Véronique on the other
side?"
He looked at me hard, but he only saw the face of an unprotected angel,
and, becoming reassured, he said, gravely:
"Yes, it might be just as well."
"You do surprise me about love," I said. "I had no idea it was a violent
kind of thing like that. I thought it began with grave reverence and
respect, and after years of offering flowers and humble compliments, and
bread-and-butter at tea-parties, the gentleman went down upon one knee and
made a declaration--'Clara Maria, I adore you; be mine'--and then one put
out a lily-white hand and, blushing, told him to rise; but that can't be
your sort, and you have not yet explained what temptation means."
"It means more or less wanting to do what you ought not to."
"Oh, then," I said, "I am having temptation all the time; aren't you? For
instance, I want to tear up Jean's altar-cloth, and rip Kirstie's ties,
and tool bad words on Jessie's bindings, and burn Maggie's wood-boxes."
He looked horribly shocked and hurt, so I added at once:
"Of course, it must be lovely to be able to do these things; they are
perfect girls, and so clever, only it makes me feel like that because I
suppose I am--different."
He looked at me critically. "Yes, you are different; I wish you would try
and be more like my sisters, then I should not feel so nervous about your
going to London."
"It is too good of you to worry," I said, demurely. "But I don't think you
need, you know. I have rather a strong suspicion I am acquainted with the
way to take care of myself," and I bent down and laughed right in his
face, and jumped off the stile onto the other side.
He did look such a teeny shrimp climbing after me! But it does not matter
what is their size, the vanity of men is just the same. I am sure he
thought he had only to begin making love to me himself and I would drop
like a ripe peach into his mouth.
I teased him all the way back, until when we got in to lunch he did not
know whether he was on his head or his heels. Just as we came up to the
door he said:
"I thought your name was Evangeline; why did you say it was Clara Maria?"
"Because it is not!" I laughed over my shoulder, and ran into the house.
He stood on the steps, and if he had been one of the stable-boys he would
have scratched his head.
Now I must stop and dress. I shall put on a black tea-frock I have. Mr.
Carruthers shall see I have not caught frumpdom from my hosts.
_Night._
I do think men are the most horrid creatures--you can't believe what they
say or rely upon them for five minutes! Mrs. Carruthers was right; she
said, "Evangeline, remember, it is quite difficult enough to trust one's
self without trusting a man."
Such an afternoon I have had! That annoying feeling of waiting for
something all the time and nothing happening. For Mr. Carruthers did not
turn up, after all. How I wish I had not dressed and expected him!
He is probably saying to himself he is well out of the business, now I
have gone. I don't suppose he meant a word of his protestations to me.
Well, he need not worry. I had no intention of jumping down his throat;
only I would have been glad to see him, because he is human, and not like
any one here.
Of course, Lord Robert will be the same, and I shall probably never see
either of them again. How can Lord Robert get here when he does not know
Lady Katherine? No; it was just said to say something nice when I was
leaving, and he will be as horrid as Mr. Carruthers.
I am thankful, at least, that I did not tell Lady Katherine; I should have
felt such a goose. Oh! I do wonder what I shall do next. I don't know at
all how much things cost; perhaps three hundred a year is very poor. I am
sure my best frocks always were five or six hundred francs each, and I
dare say hotels run away with money. But for the moment I am rich, as Mr.
Barton kindly advanced some of my legacy to me; and, oh, I am going to see
life! and it is absurd to be sad! I shall go to bed, and forget how cross
I feel.
They are going to have a shoot here next week--pheasants. I wonder if they
will have a lot of old men. I have not heard all who are coming.
Lady Katherine said to me after dinner this evening that she was sorry, as
she was afraid it would be most awkward for me their having a party, on
account of my deep mourning, and I, if I felt it dreadfully, I need not
consider they would find me the least rude if I preferred to have dinner
in my room.
I don't want to have dinner in my room. Think of the stuffiness of it! And
perhaps hearing laughter going on down-stairs.
I can always amuse myself watching faces, however dull they are. I thanked
her, and said it would not be at all necessary, as I must get accustomed
to seeing people. I could not count upon always meeting hostesses with
such kind thoughts as hers, and I might as well get used to it.
She said "Yes," but not cordially.
To-morrow Mrs. Mackintosh, the eldest daughter, is arriving with her four
children. I remember her wedding five years ago. I have never seen her
since.
She was very tall and thin, and stooped dreadfully, and Mrs. Carruthers
said Providence had been very kind in giving her a husband at all. But
when Mr. Mackintosh tittuped down the aisle with her, I did not think so.
A wee, sandy fellow about up to her shoulder!
Oh, I would hate to be tied to that! I think to be tied to anything could
not be very nice. I wonder how I ever thought of marrying Mr. Carruthers
offhand!
I feel now I shall never marry, for years. Of course one can't be an old
maid, but for a long time I mean to see life first.