"TWO MAIDEN LADIES OF UNCERTAIN AGE"
How poor a thing is man! Alas, 'tis true;
I'd half forget it when I chanced on you!
--SCHILLER.
Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.
--BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
The day of the Templeton's garden fete was as bright and cloudless as
the heart of man or woman could desire. Verity, who had dressed herself
at an unconscionably early hour, sat at an upper window with Babs in
her arms, watching brakes and carriages drive past, filled with gaily
attired people. Malcolm had issued his sovereign mandate that they must
not be amongst the earliest arrivals, and Verity panted with impatience
long before she could induce her household tyrants to lay aside pipe
and cigarette.
Malcolm was not in a festive mood. He had spent his morning restlessly,
pacing up and down the woodlands, with an unread book under his arm. He
was secretly chafed and even a little hurt that neither of the sisters
had needed his help. He had dropped more than one hint on the previous
day, when some errand took him to the Wood House, and he found
Elizabeth looking heated and tired, superintending the removal of some
furniture.
"You might make use of an idle man," he had said half-jestingly. "I
assure you that I am a complete Jack-of-all-trades, and I don't mind 'a
scrow,' as old Nurse Dawson calls it." But though Elizabeth smiled, she
did not avail herself of this friendly offer; but it was Dinah who gave
him the real explanation.
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Herrick," she had returned gratefully; "we should
have been so glad of your help, only David Carlyon and his father are
doing all we want. Mr. Carlyon is so useful, and David spends all his
spare time with us."
"David"--in a pondering voice. And Dinah blushed as if she had been
guilty of an indiscretion.
"Oh, we only call him that in order to distinguish him from his
father--the two Carlyons are so puzzling; but he is an old and a very
dear friend, and at my age it does not matter," finished Dinah with her
charming smile.
Malcolm had to content himself with this explanation. They were old
friends. Yes, of course, and he was a comparatively new one. He
expected too much; his demands were unreasonable. Nevertheless Malcolm
felt a pang of envy when he saw David Carlyon tearing breathlessly
through the woodlands with his arms full of greenery from the vicarage
garden, and whistling like a schoolboy.
When at last Malcolm and his friends turned in at the gates of the Wood
House that afternoon, they could hear the band playing in the distance.
A group of village children were gathered in the road; empty carriages
passed them; a smart dog-cart, with four young men, rattled down the
drive; and through the openings in the trees the gleam of white dresses
looked silvery in the sunlight.
Miss Templeton was standing in the porch to receive her guests.
Elizabeth had only just left her, she said, to arrange the tennis
tournament. And then, as more guests were arriving, Malcolm left her.
The next moment he came upon Cedric; he was looking rather bored and
disconsolate. He lighted up, however, at the sight of his friend.
"Here you are at last," he grumbled. "I have been looking all over the
place for you. I came down with a lot of our fellows, but Betty has
paired them all off for tennis. There are the Kestons, I must go and
speak to them." But Malcolm had him by the arm.
"Wait a moment; '"no hurry!" said the Carpenter.' I suppose you brought
the Jacobis with you." Then Cedric's face clouded again.
"Oh, Jacobi came right enough--there he is, talking to David--but Miss
Jacobi had a bad sick headache, and he would not let her come."
"I am sorry to hear that," returned Malcolm; and he was sorry, for his
cleverly-devised plan had been frustrated.
"She was sorry too, poor girl," went on Cedric in a vexed voice. "She
had been so looking forward to the Bean-feast ever since Betty's
invitation arrived. It is my belief that Jacobi is to blame for the
whole thing, for he was rowing her in her room like anything last
night. I could hear them through the ceiling going it like hammer and
tongs."
"Do you mean to tell me that Miss Jacobi and her brother quarrel?"
asked Malcolm in a disgusted voice. Then Cedric looked as if he had
said more than he intended.
"No, not quarrel," rather hesitatingly. "It takes two to do that, you
know, and Leah--Miss Jacobi, I mean," biting his lip--"is much too fond
of her brother to quarrel with him; but Jacobi has a temper, you see."
"Oh, he has a temper, has he?"
"Well, lots of people have, if you come to that," returned Cedric, who
evidently repented his frankness. "Jacobi is a decent fellow, but he is
hot and peppery, and when things go crooked he lashes out a bit.
Something must have vexed him last night, for he came into the
drawing-room looking very much put out. Miss Jacobi had just gone
upstairs, and he went after her at once."
"And then they quarrelled?"
"Well, not quarrelled exactly; but there was a good deal of talking,
don't you know. He kept her up late, and bothered her, and then she got
a headache. "But Cedric forbore to tell his friend that he had been so
perturbed by the sound of Saul Jacobi's angry voice that he had stolen
down the stairs to the passage below. How long he stood there
transfixed with fear and pity it was impossible to say. No words
reached him--only the harsh, vibrant tones of Saul Jacobi's voice and
Leah's low, piteous sobbing.
He might have stood there until morning, but the door suddenly
unlatched, and he had only just time to steal away; but before he could
enter his room a few words did reach him.
"Oh, Saul, please do not leave me like this. Don't I always do as you
wish; only--only I thought you approved; that--that--" but here sobs
choked her voice.
"What is the use of turning on the waterworks like this?" muttered her
brother angrily. "What fools you women are! A boy like that too!"
"But, Saul, Saul--"
"Yes, I know," sulkily. "I have not changed my mind, but I mean to have
my way about to-morrow all the same. If you had been sensible I would
have told you my reasons; but you chose to aggravate me, and I said a
precious lot more than I meant. There, go to sleep and forget
it"--evidently a rough attempt to be conciliatory; but Leah's sad and
weary face told its own tale the next morning.
Malcolm did not ask any more questions, and after a few more casual
remarks Cedric went off in search of the Kestons, and Malcolm sauntered
across the lawn, looking at the various groups in the hope of seeing
Elizabeth's tall figure.
Presently he came upon Mr. Jacobi. He was standing by the sun-dial,
looking smart and well-groomed in his frock-coat, and a rare orchid in
his button-hole. He was contemplating the house with fixed attention. A
sudden impulse made Malcolm join him. Mr. Jacobi greeted him with his
usual affability, and then, as though by mutual consent, they strolled
together in the direction of the rustic bridge.
"Nice sleepy old place this," observed Mr. Jacobi condescendingly.
"Seems as though it had been in existence for a hundred years at least.
Do you know how long it has belonged to the Templetons?"
"No, I have no idea," returned Malcolm stiffly, for he resented the
question. "What a perfect day it is! I am sorry to hear from Templeton
that your sister is indisposed."
Mr. Jacobi's eyes narrowed a little; he looked rather sharply at
Malcolm.
"Oh, Templeton told you that. Nice fellow--as good a specimen of a
young Briton as ever I wish to see; sensible too, and a good companion.
Yes, my sister is a bit seedy--a bad sick headache, nothing more. It is
in our family; my mother had them, and Leah takes after her. It is hard
lines, poor old girl," continued Mr. Jacobi in a feeling tone, "for she
was longing to make the Misses Templeton's acquaintance."
Malcolm returned a civil answer, and Mr. Jacobi continued--
"Templeton is a lucky fellow, between you and me and the post," in a
jocular tone. "It must be a good thing for him that his sisters have
set their faces against matrimony. Nice-looking women, both of them,
but in my humble opinion Miss Elizabeth is the most attractive.
Templeton let out to Leah the other day that she could have married a
dozen times over if she had wished to do so, only she vowed she was cut
out for an old maid."
"I don't suppose he knows anything about it," returned Malcolm, feeling
this speech was in the worst possible form. It revolted him to hear
this man even mention Elizabeth's name--he would give him no
encouragement; but Saul Jacobi, who could be dense when he chose, did
not drop the subject.
"It is rather a big place for two maiden ladies of uncertain age," he
remarked blandly; but this speech irritated Malcolm beyond endurance.
"There is nothing uncertain about the second Miss Templeton's age," he
said impatiently; "she is still a young woman." Then it struck him that
Mr. Jacobi looked a trifle crestfallen.
"Young, do you call her? Oh no, very mature and sedate, like a
middle-aged woman. Gyp Campion told me as a fact--do you know Gyp? he
is in the Hussars, and a tiptop swell in the bargain--well, Gyp let out
that his brother Owen had proposed to Miss Elizabeth Templeton years
ago at Alassio."
"Oh, I daresay," indifferently. "I think I must go back to the house
now;" it cost Malcolm an effort to be civil.
"I will walk back with you. What was I saying? Oh, she refused the poor
chap, and told him that the holy estate of matrimony had no attraction
for her, or some such rubbish. That is why I call Templeton a lucky
fellow. There is not a creature belonging to them, except a distant
cousin or two in New Zealand, so of course he will come in for
everything;" a pause here, and a furtive glance of inquiry; but Malcolm
remained mute, and his face might have been a blank wall as far as
expression was concerned.
"They have got a pretty penny saved too," went on Mr. Jacobi, not in
the least silenced by Malcolm's lack of interest. "Gyp told me a thing
or two about that. It seems they had a farm in Cornwall"--here he
sniffed at his scentless orchid with an air of enjoyment, a habit of
his when his subject interested him. "It was a rotten concern--farm
buildings out of repair, and a few scrubby fields with more stones than
grass. Miss Templeton was just going to sell it for a mere song when
some one discovered tin. My word, those few acres rose in value! Gyp
declared they realised quite a small fortune on it. That was only three
or four years ago."
"Indeed," returned Malcolm drily; "if you will pardon my speaking
plainly, Mr. Jacobi, I do not think the Misses Templeton's business
affairs are any concern of ours, and I would prefer to talk on any
other subject."
This was too manifest a hint to be disregarded even by the
irrepressible Jacobi; but the next minute Malcolm added, "Will you
excuse my leaving you, I see some old friends of mine on their way to
the Pool, and they will expect me to join them;" but if Malcolm
intended to do so, he chose a most circuitous route.
"Rum chap that," observed Saul Jacobi, turning on his heel--"not easy
to get any information out of him; looks as though he had swallowed the
poker first, and then the tongs as a sort of relish afterwards, and
neither of them agreed with him. I wonder what young Templeton saw in
him. He lays it on pretty thick too: it is Herrick this and Herrick
that, as though he were Solomon in all his glory. Confound his airs and
impudence! Let me tell you, my young gentleman," with a sly smile,
"that the Misses Templeton's private business is a matter that concerns
Saul Jacobi pretty closely."
Meanwhile Malcolm was in a white heat of righteous indignation.
"That wretched little cad, how dare he meddle and pry into the Misses
Templeton's family affairs! There is something I mistrust in the man;
he is smooth and plausible, but he is crafty too; he is deep--deep--and
if I do not mistake, he is clever too."
Then he added, "I must get hold of Cedric; I am not comfortable at his
associating with this man. Cedric is as weak as water; he is so easily
led, he would be the dupe of any designing person; but the Jacobis will
have to reckon with me;" and here Malcolm, who had uttered the last
words aloud, stopped and looked rather foolish, as a merry laugh
greeted his ear, and Elizabeth, in all the glory of her Paris gown and
picture hat, barred the way, and regarded him with her beaming smile.
"Mr. Herrick, you are quite dramatic; Hamlet or the melancholy Jacques
could not have been more lost in gloomy meditation. If I may presume to
ask the question, why will the Jacobis have to reckon with you?"
"Did I say so?" returned Malcolm, with an uneasy laugh. "I suppose I
was thinking aloud. That fellow Jacobi has been rubbing me up the wrong
way; he stuck to me like a burr, and I could not get rid of him."
"I had some trouble in shaking him off myself," she owned. "You were
quite right, Mr. Herrick, he is not a gentleman, and I dislike his
manner excessively; it is too subservient, and he is too soft-tongued.
Poor dear Die, I wish you could have seen her face when he paid her a
compliment; she looked quite bewildered."
Elizabeth's eyes were dancing with amusement at the recollection, but
Malcolm did not respond to her merriment; he felt things were too
serious.
"I am not at all easy in my mind," he said, and then Elizabeth looked
at him inquiringly. "Jacobi seems to have got a hold on Cedric. He goes
back with him to-night, does he not? Ah, I thought so," as Elizabeth
nodded. "I must have some talk with him; I shall tell him that I
disapprove of the Jacobis, and shall beg him to break off the
acquaintance."
"Oh, thank you--thank you!" returned Elizabeth earnestly, and there was
a beautiful colour in her face; she even held out her hand impulsively
to him, as though her gratitude carried her away. "How good you are to
us--a real friend to two lone, lorn women!" and here something twinkled
in Elizabeth's eyes; but perhaps she was a little taken aback when
Malcolm very quietly and reverently raised the hand to his lips, as
though he were vowing knightly service to his liege lady.
"I should ask nothing better than to be your friend," he said in a low
voice; but perhaps something in her manner checked him, for he added
hastily, "and your sister's too."
It was rather a lame conclusion, but Elizabeth accepted it graciously.
"I shall rely on you to help us," she said very seriously; "get him to
break with the Jacobis, and Dinah and I will owe you a debt of
gratitude."
"Hush! please do not mention names," whispered Malcolm; "some one might
overhear us;" but he was too late, Elizabeth's incautious speech had
reached an unseen auditor.
Malcolm felt a little ashamed of himself when he remembered his
impulsive action. "She will think it so strange," he thought; "she will
not understand that it was only the outward and visible sign of my
inward reverence." But he was wrong, Elizabeth did understand, and she
did not misjudge him.
"He is a high-minded gentleman," she said to herself; and then she
sighed and her face grew troubled, "but I wish--I wish he had not done
that."
Malcolm found his work cut out for him; for the remainder of the
afternoon he was hunting his quarry. But Cedric was never alone. He was
either surrounded by a bevy of girls or else Jacobi was beside him.
Even Cedric seemed surprised at the tenacity with which his friend and
host stuck to him.
"Herrick wants me," he said once; "I will come back to you right
enough, old fellow;" but Jacobi still pinioned him.
"We will go together, my dear boy," he said pleasantly. "I have taken a
fancy to your Mentor. He seems a clever chap. He is a barrister, isn't
he, and literary, and all that sort of thing?"
"I have told you about him often enough," returned Cedric, in rather a
surly tone, as though the iron hand under the velvet glove made itself
evident. Cedric felt he was being managed and coerced, and he waxed
indignant; but Saul Jacobi was more than a match for him, and in spite
of all Malcolm's efforts, Cedric went back to Henley without a word of
warning.
Malcolm was quite troubled and crestfallen over his failure.
"I did my best," he said to Elizabeth; "I followed him about the whole
afternoon, but that fellow stuck to him like a leech."
"So I saw," she returned rather sadly; "it was no fault of yours, Mr.
Herrick, I am quite sure of that. Well, we must find some other
opportunity." And then Elizabeth smiled at him very kindly, and Malcolm
went back to the Crow's Nest feeling somewhat comforted.