"Oh, you are funny!" I said. "You, a clever diplomat, to know so little of
women! Who in the world would accept such an offer?" and I laughed and
laughed.
"What am I to do with you?" he exclaimed, angrily.
"Nothing." I laughed still, and I looked at him with my
"affair-of-the-devil" look. He came over and forcibly took my hand.
"Yes, you are a witch," he said--"a witch who casts spells and destroys
resolutions and judgments. I determined to forget you, and put you out of
my life--you are most unsuitable to me, you know--but as soon as I see you
I am filled with only one desire. I _must_ have you for myself. I want to
kiss you--to touch you. I want to prevent any other man from looking at
you--do you hear me, Evangeline?"
"Yes, I hear," I said; "but it does not have any effect on me. You would
be awful as a husband. Oh, I know all about them!" and I looked up. "I saw
several sorts at Tryland, and Lady Verningham has told me of the rest, and
I know you would be no earthly good in that rôle!"
He laughed, in spite of himself, but he still held my hand.
"Describe their types to me, that I may see which I should be," he said,
with great seriousness.
"There is the Mackintosh kind--humble and 'titsy pootsy,' and a sort of
under-nurse," I said.
"That is not my size, I fear."
"Then there is the Montgomerie--selfish and bullying, and near about
money."
"But I am not Scotch."
"No--well, Lord Kestervin was English, and he fussed and worried, and
looked out trains all the time."
"I will have a groom of the chambers."
"And they were all casual and indifferent to their poor wives--and
boresome--and bored! And one told long stories, and one was stodgy, and
one opened his wife's letters before she was down!"
"Tell me the attributes of a perfect husband, then, that I may learn
them," he said.
"They have to pay all the bills----"
"Well, I could do that."
"And they have not to interfere with one's movements. And one must be able
to make their hearts beat."
"Well, you could do _that_!" and he bent nearer to me. I drew back.
"And they have to take long journeys to the Rocky Mountains for months
together, with men friends."
"Certainly not!" he exclaimed.
"There, you see!" I said; "the most important part you don't agree to.
There is no use talking further."
"Yes, there is! You have not said half enough. Have they to make your
heart beat, too?"
"You are hurting my hand."
He dropped it.
"Have they?"
"Lady Ver said no husband could do that. The fact of their being one kept
your heart quite quiet, and often made you yawn; but she said it was not
necessary, as long as you could make theirs so that they would do all you
asked."
"Then do women's hearts never beat--did she tell you?"
"Of course they beat. How simple you are for thirty years old! They beat
constantly for--oh--for people who are not husbands."
"That is the result of your observations, is it? You are probably right
and I am a fool."
"Some one said at lunch yesterday that a beautiful lady in Paris had her
heart beating for you," I said, looking at him again.
He changed--so very little. It was not a start, or a wince even--just
enough for me to know he felt what I said.
"People are too kind," he said. "But we have got no nearer the point. When
will you marry me?"
"I shall marry you--never! Mr. Carruthers," I said, "unless I get into an
old maid soon and no one else asks me! Then if you go on your knees I may
put out the tip of my fingers, perhaps!" and I moved towards the door,
making him a sweeping and polite courtesy.
He rushed after me.
"Evangeline!" he exclaimed. "I am not a violent man as a rule; indeed, I
am rather cool, but you would drive any one perfectly mad. Some day some
one will strangle you--witch!"
"Then I had better run away to save my neck," I said, laughing over my
shoulder as I opened the door and ran up the stairs, and I peeped at him
from the landing above. He had come out into the hall. "Good-bye," I
called, and, without waiting to see Lady Ver, he tramped down the stairs
and away.
"Evangeline, what _have_ you been doing?" she asked, when I got into her
room, where her maid was settling her veil before the glass, and trembling
over it. Lady Ver is sometimes fractious with her--worse than I am with
Véronique, far.
"Evangeline, you look naughtier than ever--confess at once."
"I have been as good as gold," I said.
"Then why are those two emeralds sparkling so, may one ask?"
"They are sparkling with conscious virtue," I said, demurely.
"You have quarrelled with Mr. Carruthers--go away, Welby! Stupid woman,
can't you see it catches my nose!"
Welby retired meekly. (After she is cross, Lady Ver sends Welby to the
theatre. Welby adores her.)
"Evangeline, how dare you! I see it all. I gathered bits from Robert. You
have quarrelled with the very man you must marry!"
"What does Lord Robert know about me?" I said. That made me angry.
"Nothing; he only said Mr. Carruthers admired you at Branches."
"Oh!"
"He is too attractive--Christopher! He is one of the 'married women's
pets,' as Ada Fairfax says, and has never spoken to a girl before. You
ought to be grateful we have let him look at you--minx!--instead of
quarrelling, as I can see you have." She rippled with laughter, while she
pretended to scold me.
"Surely I may be allowed that chastened diversion!" I said. "I can't go to
theatres!"
"Tell me about it," she commanded, tapping her foot.
But early in Mrs. Carruthers's days I learned that one is wiser when one
keeps one's own affairs to one's self, so I fenced a little, and laughed,
and we went out to drive finally, without her being any the wiser. Going
into the park, we came upon a troop of the 3d Life Guards, who had been
escorting the king to open something, and there rode Lord Robert in his
beautiful clothes and a floating plume. He did look so lovely, and _my_
heart suddenly began to beat--I could feel it, and was ashamed, and it did
not console me greatly to reflect that the emotion caused by a uniform is
not confined to nursemaids.
Of course it must have been the uniform and the black horse--Lord Robert
is nothing to me. But I hate to think that, mamma's mother having been
nobody, I should have inherited these common instincts!