SO SOON!
They rode home sedately in the cool and quiet evening. Mr. Kingston,
having accomplished the end for which he had contrived this unchaperoned
expedition, was content to keep close to his pretty sweetheart's side,
to look in her face occasionally with significant smiles, and to
ruminate on his own good fortune.
Rachel, fluttered and dismayed at the situation in which she found
herself, bestowed a wandering attention on the near-side fields and
hedges, and discouraged conversation. It is needless to remark that the
carriage did not come to meet them. The long shadows lengthened, the sun
sank down below the glowing horizon, the glory of the evening faded away
into the soft dusk of the autumn night.
Lamps were being lighted when they entered Toorak; the workmen who had
begun at the foundations of the new house were "knocking off;" the gates
of Mrs. Hardy's domain were standing open, and the woman at the lodge
informed them that she had not returned from her drive.
They rode up to the house, and Mr. Kingston got off his horse and lifted
Rachel down. She disengaged herself from his arms as quickly as
possible, and then stood on the doorstep, while the groom led both
horses away, and looked at her _fiance_ anxiously, blushing with all her
might.
"Won't you let me come in?" he asked smiling. But he did not mean to be
refused admittance; and he turned the handle of the door and led her
into the hall and into the drawing-room, as if it had been his own
house.
The lamps had not been lit in the drawing-room, but a bright fire was
burning, making a glow of rich and pleasant colour all over its mossy
carpet and its shining furniture. Rachel's flowers were blooming
everywhere. Soft armchairs stood seductively round the cheerful hearth.
An afternoon tea-table was set for four, with everything on it but the
teapot.
"My aunt is late," said Rachel uneasily. "I wonder what can have kept
her. I hope there has been no accident."
Mr. Kingston showed all his teeth in a momentary smile, and then
addressed himself to the opportunity that had so happily offered.
"Oh, no, she is not late; it is the days that are getting so short," he
said. And as he spoke he unfastened her hat and laid it aside, and then
drew her burning face to his shoulder and kissed her. She stood still,
trembling, to let him do it, one tingling blush from head to foot. She
liked him very much; she was very proud and glad that she was going to
marry him; she quite understood that it was his right and privilege to
kiss her, if he felt so disposed. Still her strongest conscious
sentiment was an ardent longing for her aunt's return--or her uncle's,
or anybody's. The spiritual woman in her protested against being kissed.
"I want you not to be afraid of me," said Mr. Kingston, half anxious,
half amused, as he patted her head. "I am not an ogre, nor Bluebeard
either; you seem to shrink from me almost as if I was. You must not
shrink from me _now_, you know."
"I will not--by and bye--when I get used to it," she gasped, with a
touch of hysterical excitement, extricating her pretty head, and
standing appealingly before him, with her pink palms outwards. "I'm not
afraid of you, Mr. Kingston, but--but it is very new yet! I shall get
used to it after a little."
He looked down at her with sudden gravity. She was on the verge of
tears.
"Oh, yes," he said quietly, almost paternally, "we shall soon get used
to each other. There is plenty of time. Let me see--how old are you?
Don't tell me; let me guess. Eighteen?"
She smiled and composed herself. Yes, she was just eighteen. Somebody
must have told him. No, upon his honour, nobody had; it was his own
guess entirely. Did he not think he ought to have chosen someone older
for such a position of importance and responsibility? No; she was
gallantly assured that she had been an object, not of choice, but of
necessity. And so on.
When the dialogue had brought itself down to a sufficiently sober level,
he took her hand, and drawing her into a seat beside him, continued to
hold it, and to stroke her slight white fingers between his palms.
"They say good blood always shows itself in the fineness of a woman's
hands," he said; "if so, you ought to be particularly well-born."
"I don't know what your standard is," she answered, smiling. "My father
came of a border family ages ago, I believe. I never knew anything about
my mother's parentage; she died when I was a baby."
"I am _sure_ you are well born," he said, looking fondly and proudly at
her as she sat in the firelight, with her golden hair shining. "I shall
have not only the finest house, but the most beautiful wife to sit at
the head of my table. I don't believe there is another woman in
Melbourne who will compare with you, especially when you get those
diamonds on."
"Diamonds!" ejaculated Rachel.
"Yes; those diamonds you talked about the other night, don't you
know?--that you would have if you were very rich. Well, you are going to
be very rich. And I am going to order you some of them to-morrow. You
must give me the size of your finger. A 'ring full of diamonds,' didn't
you say? How full?"
Rachel smiled, blushed, and ceased to feel that strong repugnance to
the amenities of courtship which had distressed both herself and her
lover at an earlier stage.
Here a servant came in to light the gas. The man appeared conscious of
the inopportuneness of his intrusion, and despatched his business in
nervous haste, clinking the pendants of the cut-glass chandelier in a
manner that his mistress would have highly disapproved of.
Rachel and her visitor watched him with a sort of silent fascination, as
if they had never seen gas lighted before. When he was gone, Mr.
Kingston took out his watch. It was past six o'clock. He had a dinner
engagement at seven, and had to get into town and change his clothes.
"I'm afraid I dare not wait for Mrs. Hardy," he said, rising. "I hate to
go, but you know I would not if I could help it. I will see your uncle
at his office the first thing in the morning, and come to lunch
afterwards. Shall I?"
"If you like," murmured Rachel, shyly. And then she submitted to be
kissed again, and being asked to do it, touched her lover's fierce
moustaches with her own soft lips--not "minding" it nearly so much as
she did at first. She was beginning to get used to being engaged to him.
When immediately after his departure Mrs. Hardy, having left her
daughter at her own house, came home, and heard what had been taking
place, she could hardly believe the evidence of her ears.
"So soon!" she ejaculated, lifting her hands. "Is it credible? My dear,
are you sure you are not making a mistake?"
Remembering the wear and tear of mind and body that the management of
these affairs had cost her hitherto--remembering the illusive and
unsubstantial nature of all Mr. Kingston's previous attentions to the
most attractive marriageable girls--she found the suddenness of the
thing confounding.
"Don't you think you may have misunderstood him?" she reiterated,
anxiously. "I'm afraid he is rather given to say more--or to appear to
say more--than he means sometimes."
Rachel blushingly testified to the good faith of her _fiance_, by
references to the ring for which her finger had already been measured,
and to the impending interview at her uncle's office.
"I should never have thought of it of myself Aunt Elizabeth," she said
meekly.
Mrs. Hardy sank into an easy chair, and unbuttoned her furs, as if to
give her bosom room to swell with the pride and satisfaction that
possessed her. Then, looking up at the slender figure on the hearthrug,
at the candid innocent face of the child who had been bequeathed to her
love and care, a maternal instinct asserted itself.
"My dear," she said, "you are very young, and this is a serious step.
You must take care not to run into it heedlessly. Do you really feel
that you would be happy with Mr. Kingston? He is much older than you
are, you know."
Rachel thought of the new house, and of the diamonds, and of all her
lover's tributes to her worth and beauty.
"Yes, I think so, aunt. He is a very nice man. He is very kind to me."
"He has lived so long as a bachelor, that he has got into bachelor
ways," Mrs. Hardy reluctantly proceeded. "He has been rather--a--gay, so
they say. I doubt if you will find him domesticated, my dear."
"I shall not _wish_ him to stay always at home with me," replied the
girl, with a fine glow of generosity. "And I do not mind tobacco-smoke,
nor latchkeys, nor things of that sort. And if he is fond of his club,
I hope he will go there as often as he likes. _I_ shall not try to
deprive him of his pleasures, when he will give me so many of my own.
And, you know, dear aunt, I shall be quite close to you; I can never be
lonely while I am able to run in and out here."
Mrs. Hardy was reassured. This was the pliant, sweet-natured little
creature who would adapt herself kindly to any husband--who was not, of
course, an absolutely outrageous brute.
And Mr. Kingston, except that he was a little old, a little of a
_viveur_, a trifle selfish, and, it was said, rather bad tempered when
he was put out, was everything that a reasonable girl could desire. She
smiled, rose from her chair, and kissed her niece's pretty face with
motherly pride and fondness.
"Well, my love, it is a great match for you," she said, "and I hope it
will be a happy one as well."
And then, hearing her husband coming downstairs, she left the room
hurriedly to meet and drive him back again, that she might explain to
him the interesting state of affairs while she put on her gown for
dinner.