"I have promised not to play with him; is that not enough?" I exclaimed.
"Do you know, I believe it is, snake-girl," she said, and there was
something wistful in her eyes; "but you are twenty, and I am past thirty,
and--he is a man. So one can't be too careful." Then she laughed, and I
left her putting a toe into a blue satin slipper and ringing for her
maid.
I don't think age can matter much; she is far more attractive than any
girl, and she need not pretend she is afraid of me. But the thing that
struck me then, and has always struck me since, is that to have to _hold_
a man by one's own manoeuvres could not be agreeable to one's
self-respect. I would _never_ do that under any circumstances; if he would
not stay because it was the thing he wanted to do most in the world, he
might go. I should say, "Je m'en fiche!"
At luncheon, for which the guns came in--no nice picnic in a lodge as at
Branches--I purposely sat between two old gentlemen, and did my best to be
respectful and intelligent. One was quite a nice old thing, and at the end
began paying me compliments. He laughed and laughed at everything I said.
Opposite me were Malcolm and Lord Robert, with Lady Ver between them. They
both looked sulky. It was quite a while before she could get them gay and
pleasant. I did not enjoy myself.
After it was over, Lord Robert deliberately walked up to me.
"Why are you so capricious?" he asked. "I won't be treated like this. You
know very well I have only come here to see you. We are such friends--or
were. Why?"
Oh, I did want to say I was friends still, and would love to talk to him.
He seemed so adorably good-looking, and such a shape! And his blue eyes
had the nicest flash of anger in them.
I could have kept my promise to the letter, and yet broken it in the
spirit, easily enough, by letting him understand by inference; but of
course one could not be so mean as that when one was going to eat her
salt, so I looked out of the window and answered coldly that I was quite
friendly and did not understand him, and I immediately turned to my old
gentleman and walked with him into the library. In fact, I was as cool as
I could be without being actually rude, but all the time there was a flat,
heavy feeling round my heart. He looked so cross and reproachful, and I
did not like him to think me capricious.
We did not see them again until tea--the sportsmen, I mean. But tea at
Tryland is not a friendly time; it is just as stiff as other meals. Lady
Ver never let Lord Robert leave her side, and immediately after tea
everybody who stayed in the drawing-room played bridge, where they were
planted until the dressing-bell rang.
One would have thought Lady Katherine would have disapproved of cards, but
I suppose every one must have one contradiction about them, for she loves
bridge, and played for the lowest stakes with the air of a "needy
adventurer" as the books say.
I can't write the whole details of the rest of the visit. I was miserable,
and that is the truth. Fate seemed to be against Lord Robert speaking to
me, even when he tried, and I felt I must be extra cool and nasty because
I--oh, well, I may as well say it--he attracts me very much. I never once
looked at him from under my eyelashes, and after the next day he did not
even try to have an explanation.
He glanced with wrath sometimes, especially when Malcolm hung over me, and
Lady Ver said his temper was dreadful.
She was so sweet to me, it almost seemed as if she wanted to make up to me
for not letting me play with Lord Robert.
(Of course, I would not allow her to see I minded that.)
And finally Friday came, and the last night.
I sat in my room from tea until dinner. I could not stand Malcolm any
longer. I had fenced with him rather well up to then, but that promise of
mine hung over me. I nipped him every time he attempted to explain what it
was, and to this moment I don't know, but it did not prevent him from
saying tiresome, loving things, mixed with priggish advice. I don't know
what would have happened, only when he got really horribly affectionate,
just after tea, I was so exasperated I launched this bomb.
"I don't believe a word you are saying--your real interest is Angela
Grey."
He nearly had a fit, and shut up at once. So, of course, it is not a
horse. I felt sure of it. Probably one of those people Mrs. Carruthers
said all young men knew--their adolescent measles and chicken-pox, she
called them.
All the old men talked a great deal to me, and even the other two young
ones; but these last days I did not seem to have any of my usual spirits.
Just as we were going to bed on Friday night Lord Robert came up to Lady
Ver; she had her hand through my arm.
"I can come to the play with you on Saturday night, after all," he said.
"I have wired to Campion to make a fourth, and you will get some other
woman, won't you?"
"I will try," said Lady Ver, and she looked right into his eyes; then she
turned to me. "I shall feel so cruel leaving you alone, Evangeline" (at
once, almost, she called me Evangeline; I should never do that with
strangers), "but I suppose you ought not to be seen at a play just yet."
"I like being alone," I said. "I shall go to sleep early."
Then they settled to dine all together at her house, and go on; so,
knowing I should see him again, I did not even say good-bye to Lord
Robert, and he left by the early train.
A number of the guests came up to London with us.
My leave-taking with Lady Katherine had been coldly cordial. I thanked her
deeply for her kindness in asking me there. She did not renew the
invitation; I expect she felt a person like me, who would have to look
after themselves, was not a suitable companion to her altar-cloth and
poker workers.
Up to now, she told Lady Ver, of course I had been most carefully brought
up and taken care of by Mrs. Carruthers, although she had not approved of
her views. And having done her best for me at this juncture, saving me
from staying alone with Mr. Carruthers, she felt it was all she was called
upon to do. She thought my position would become too unconventional for
their circle in future! Lady Ver told me all this with great glee. She
was sure it would amuse me, it so amused her, but it made me a teeny bit
remember the story of the boys and the frogs!
Lady Ver now and then puts out a claw which scratches, while she ripples
with laughter. Perhaps she does not mean it.
This house is nice, and full of pretty things, as far as I have seen. We
arrived just in time to fly into our clothes for dinner. I am in a wee
room four stories up, by the three angels. I was down first, and Lord
Robert and Mr. Campion were in the drawing-room. Sir Charles Verningham is
in Paris, by-the-way, so I have not seen him yet.
Lord Robert was stroking the hair of the eldest angel, who had not gone to
bed. The loveliest thing she is, and so polite, and different to Mary
Mackintosh's infants.
He introduced Mr. Campion stiffly, and returned to Mildred--the angel.
Suddenly mischief came into me, the reaction from the last dull days; so I
looked straight at Mr. Campion from under my eyelashes, and it had the
effect it always has on people--he became interested at once. I don't know
why this does something funny to them. I remember I first noticed it in
the school-room at Branches. I was doing a horrible exercise upon the
_participe passé_, and feeling very _égarée_, when one of the old
ambassadors came in to see mademoiselle. I looked up quickly, with my head
a little down, and he said to mademoiselle, in a low voice, in German,
that I had the strangest eyes he had ever seen, and that uplook under the
eyelashes was the affair of the devil!
Now I knew even then the affair of the devil is something attractive, so I
have never forgotten it, although I was only about fifteen at the time. I
always determined I would try it when I grew up and wanted to create
emotions. Except Mr. Carruthers and Lord Robert, I have never had much
chance, though.
Mr. Campion sat down beside me on a sofa, and began to say at once that I
ought to be going to the play with them. I spoke in my velvet voice, and
said I was in too deep mourning, and he apologized so nicely, rather
confused.
He is quite a decent-looking person, smart and well groomed, like Lord
Robert, but not that lovely shape. We talked on for about ten minutes. I
said very little, but he never took his eyes off my face. All the time I
was conscious that Lord Robert was fidgeting and playing with a china cow
that was on a table near, and just before the butler announced Mrs.
Fairfax he dropped it on the floor and broke its tail off.
Mrs. Fairfax is not pretty; she has reddish-gold hair, with brown roots,
and a very dark skin, but it is nicely done--the hair, I mean, and perhaps
the skin too, as sideways you can see the pink sticking up on it. It must
be rather a nuisance to have to do all that, but it is certainly better
than looking like Mary Mackintosh. She doesn't balance nicely--bits of her
are too long or too short. I do like to see everything in the right
place--like Lord Robert's figure. Lady Ver came in just then, and we all
went down to dinner. Mrs. Fairfax gushed at her a good deal. Lady Ver does
not like her much--she told me in the train--but she was obliged to wire
to her to come, as she could not get any one else Mr. Campion liked on so
short a notice.
"The kind of woman every one knows, and who has no sort of pride," she
said.
Well, even when I am really an adventuress I sha'n't be like that.
Dinner was very gay.
Lady Ver, away from her decorous relations, is most amusing. She says
anything that comes into her head. Mrs. Fairfax got cross because Mr.
Campion would speak to me; but as I did not particularly take to her, I
did not mind, and just amused myself. As the party was so small, Lord
Robert and I were obliged to talk a little, and once or twice I forgot
and let myself be natural and smile at him. His eyebrows went up in that
questioning, pathetic way he has, and he looked so attractive--that made
me remember again, and instantly turn away. When we were coming into the
hall, while Lady Ver and Mrs. Fairfax were up putting on their cloaks,
Lord Robert came up close to me and whispered:
"I _can't_ understand you. There is some reason for your treating me like
this, and I will find it out. Why are you so cruel, little, wicked tiger
cat?" and he pinched one of my fingers until I could have cried out.
That made me so angry.
"How dare you touch me!" I said. "It is because you know I have no one to
take care of me that you presume like this."
I felt my eyes blaze at him, but there was a lump in my throat. I would
not have been hurt if it had been any one else, only angry; but he had
been so respectful and gentle with me at Branches, and I had liked him so
much. It seemed more cruel for him to be impertinent now.
His face fell; indeed, all the fierceness went out of it, and he looked
intensely miserable.
"Oh, don't say that!" he said, in a choked voice. "I--oh, that is the one
thing you know is not true."
Mr. Campion, with his fur coat fastened, came up at that moment, saying
gallant things, and insinuating that we must meet again, but I said
good-night quietly, and came up the stairs without a word more to Lord
Robert.
"Good-night, Evangeline, pet," Lady Ver said, when I met her on the
drawing-room landing, coming down. "I do feel a wretch, leaving you, but
to-morrow I will really try and amuse you. You look very pale, child; the
journey has tried you, probably."
"Yes, I am tired," I tried to say in a natural voice, but the end word
shook a little, and Lord Robert was just behind, having run up the stairs
after me, so I fear he must have heard.
"Miss Travers--please--" he implored, but I walked on up the next flight,
and Lady Ver put her hand on his arm and drew him down with her, and as I
got up to the fourth floor I heard the front door shut.
And now they are gone and I am alone. My tiny room is comfortable, and the
fire is burning brightly. I have a big arm-chair and books, and this, my
journal, and all is cosey--only I feel so miserable.