THE SQUIRE DEFIES CONVENTIONS
Spring is here, with the wind in her hair
And the violets under her feet.
All the forests have found her fair,
Lovers have found her sweet.
Spring's a girl in a lovely gown,
Little more than a child.
--ALICE HERBERT.
A fortnight after her arrival at the Cottage Hospital Veronica was
wholly convalescent. The air, the first-rate nursing, the sense of
peace and well-being which she experienced, all helped, and came to
the aid of a naturally fine constitution. The color she had lost
returned to her pale face, her eyes were clear and luminous.
The doctor was fairly certain that the injury she had received,
though it had been violent enough to cause inflammation, was not more
than nature would triumph over. He did not anticipate lasting
effects. She was now to be found on the sofa in the sitting-room,
and the nurse held out hopes of a walk round the garden on Sunday
next. She had been the sole comfort of Denzil's misery during this
time of strain, when day after day passed by, and no news was
forthcoming. Each day he grew more certain that Felix was not dead,
but alive--and a further certainty followed.
If his brother were really not dead, then the pretense of suicide
must have been deliberate. He must have determined to cast off his
own identity, and wipe himself out of the list of the living. With
what object? Doubtless that he might return to his anarchical
pursuits, under some alias.
For this the master of Normansgrave felt secretly grateful to him.
The name of Vanston would at least be protected. He did not believe
Felix capable of leading a life of decorous rectitude such as his
own. The bad blood inherited from his mother must, he thought, come
out, and show itself in a wild, ill-regulated life. The fact that
his half-brother had now, by his own carefully planned action, cut
himself off from all communication with his family, was, in the
secret depths of his heart, a satisfaction to him.
But he knew that a longer time must be allowed to elapse before he
could feel certain. He could not agree with the police view of the
young man having drugged himself, and then proceeded to drown
himself. This theory was, however, very strongly held at first by
the police, for the reason that such a case had actually occurred,
and had been recorded in the newspapers; experience taught them that
criminals have a curious habit of imitating one another's methods,
and that a certain form of suicide, in particular, frequently
provokes others of a similar character. The non-recovery of the body
was not, in their minds, an insuperable objection; for so determined
a suicide might well have weighted his pockets with bricks--and one
cannot drag the Thames.
Not a word had Denzil breathed to his romance-princess of the private
grief which tormented him. To her he seemed always cheerful, serene,
and bent on pleasing her. To-day he was approaching the door of the
hospital with a basket of primroses and violets from the woods, which
it would amuse the patient to arrange in a soup-plate full of moss.
Spring was beginning to bud and blossom in the beautiful land, and in
spite of anxiety his heart was warm in him, and his pulses tingled
with a feeling he had never previously experienced.
Dr. Causton's small brougham was at the door as he came up, and
almost at once the doctor came out, and stood in the sunny garden
talking to Sister Agnes. His face and hers were both full of worry.
"Ah, there is Vanston," said the doctor, "in the nick of time. I was
going to drive over to you, but now we can settle things at once, and
there is no time to lose. We want you to come to the rescue as
usual, Vanston. Three cases of scarlet fever in the National
Schools."
"Scarlet fever?" said Denzil, looking scared.
"Yes. And the Albert Hospital can't take them, it has too many
critical cases, and can't turn them out. To cut the whole thing
short, I want you to let us have the Cottage Hospital for the
epidemic. Of course, the County Council will pay all the expenses of
disinfecting and so on, and give you a handsome donation. But it
would save endless bother and fuss. If these three cases are
isolated at once, the whole thing may be restricted to those who have
been in immediate contact. It will be the saving of the village, so
I venture to hope we may count upon you."
"But what about your present case here?" said Denzil, not at all
pleased.
"Quite well enough to go out, if her people are careful of her," said
the doctor, who was not blind, and thought the patient had been there
long enough. "Write to them, or wire, and say she must be fetched
away."
"That is not so easy," said Denzil, in tones of ruffled dignity.
"Her brother is at Basingstoke, and has been promised that she shall
be kept three weeks."
"Well," said the doctor, "you can't foresee a fever epidemic."
Mr. Vanston looked much disturbed. "The risk of leaving her exposed
to infection is, of course, not to be thought of," he said. "And I
suppose you want to bring in your cases at once?"
"At once, if you and Miss Rawson would be so kind as to put the girl
in your motor and drive her to the station. Wire to the brother to
meet her, and you have done all that could possibly be expected."
Denzil stood considering. The idea of losing Rona--of losing her at
once, that very day--gave him a curious internal jolt for which he
was quite unprepared.
"Thank you," he said at last. "I will bring the motor at half-past
two. May I ask that Miss Smith be not informed that she is leaving
the Cottage Hospital, but simply told that my aunt is calling to take
her for a drive this afternoon? I would rather explain matters
myself. Sister Agnes, kindly give Miss Smith this basket, with my
kind regards."
They promised him his own way in the matter; and after a short
discussion of the outbreak of fever, and the adequate staffing of the
Cottage Hospital, he departed, and hurried up through the park to
Normansgrave, his brain evolving an idea as he went.
Miss Rawson was in the garden, pottering round to gloat over her
bulbs, which were doing admirably that year. She gazed with some
amusement upon her nephew's perturbed countenance. "She can't have
refused him--yet," was the thought that lurked behind her twinkling
eyes.
"Aunt Bee, I want you to do something for me--that is, I wish to
desire you to do something----"
"Are you giving me an order, Denzil dear? Because there is no need
to beat about the bush. What is it?"
"They have got scarlet fever down at Dunhythe. They want us to lend
the Cottage Hospital to the County Council--they want to turn out
Miss Smith to-day, within an hour or two--and I want to bring her
here for the final week of her promised convalescence."
"My dear Denzil! This is a little too fast. My poor old brain will
hardly take it all in. Lead me to a garden seat. That's
right--thanks. Yes, now let us hear it all over again."
Denzil sat down and explained in detail. He was very fond of his
aunt, and had never yet discovered that she was laughing at him.
"Well, but, Denzil dear," said she, when she thoroughly understood
the position, "have you considered that there may be some
awkwardness? I don't quite understand what this young girl's
position is to be. Is she to have her meals in the servants' hall?"
"Aunt!" said the nephew in horror. "She is a lady, you must see
that."
"Yes, I know, Denzil. She is a lady, and you, I am proud to find,
have the wit to perceive it. But, for all that, she was extricated
from a truss of hay on a canal barge, and all our servants know it.
If she comes here, and we treat her as an equal, I fear there may be
just a wee scrap of scandal in the village respecting our noble but
unconventional conduct. Please understand that I shall not mind.
But, as your chaperon, it is my duty to point out to you that people
will talk. You are usually just a little bit of a coward about talk,
you know."
Denzil sat quite still. His face took on a new, dogged look. It
very much resembled the look worn by his brother Felix in his mood of
championship.
"Aunt Bee," he said, in a low voice, "tell me your own honest opinion
of Rona Smith. Tell me what you think of her."
"I think she may grow up to be a fine woman some day, dear. She is,
I believe, thoroughly honest and loyal. She is also religious, and
grateful for kindness without any cringing. These are fine
qualities, and rare in our days."
"Should you think me a--a regular jackass if I told you that I had
the idea of paying for the completing of her education? She has, so
she tells me, nobody to take care of her but this one brother, and he
must be penniless, or he would not have been found at such rough
work. I--I cannot but think that these two have been injured by some
unscrupulous relative or guardian. Would not the brother be grateful
if we offered to keep his sister and complete her education?"
Miss Rawson looked fixedly at Denzil. Never before had she seen him
so confused, so little sure of himself. He stammered; he was, so to
speak, at her mercy. Her face was quite grave; her manner calmly
sympathetic. She knew that there are some men with whom there must
always be the protective instinct to excite love. The notion of
playing Providence to that lovely young girl was full of an exquisite
seductive charm to young Vanston. He really did not know that he was
in love with her. It might take him a couple of years to find out.
"Well, dear boy," said she, kindly, "it is a fine idea, but it sounds
a little risky. We do not know who the girl is, nor how she came to
the plight in which we found her. She may have relations who have a
claim upon her, and it would be uncomfortable for you to be asked
what right you had to take her under your wing."
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, digging tiny holes in the gravel with
the tip of his stick, "I have thought of that. It seems to me that,
if we make the offer I suggest, we ought to do it on condition that
the brother speaks out and tells the truth, so that we may know where
we are. What do you think of that? My notion is, bring her here to
complete her cure. We promised her three weeks--let her have three
weeks. By that time we shall know better what we think of her, and
consider the desirability of making further offers of assistance."
"Very well, dear boy, I have nothing against that. It will take off
your thoughts from this long, wearing suspense. I conclude that you
want me to go and fetch your little protégée at once--eh?"
"I said the motor would be round at half-past two, and they were
merely to tell her that you were coming to take her driving. I did
not want her to be fussed."
"That was thoughtful of you, Denzil," said his aunt.
* * * * * * *
The motor duly appeared at the pretty white porch at two-thirty, and
Rona, warmly wrapped up, was placed beside Miss Rawson in the
comfortable closed tonneau, the Squire acting as chauffeur. The
doctor and Sister Agnes, who had been informed of the fact that she
was going to Normansgrave to complete her convalescence, looked at
each other with a half-frightened smile and arching of the brows.
"Well," said Dr. Causton, "if I had known, or dreamt, that I was not
getting her out of his way, but pitching her into his arms, I would
not have done it--I declare I would not! However, what will be, will
be; and we know his own father chose for his second wife a far more
unsuitable person. But Denzil has always seemed such a sanctimonious
kind."
"Just so," said Sister Agnes, deprecatingly. "That's the kind that
does it."
During the drive Miss Rawson gradually told the girl that she was
going to Normansgrave, as the hospital was about to receive
infectious cases, and she could not be kept there without risk to
herself. Rona was immensely interested, and, as Miss Rawson had
previously noted, her interest swallowed up her girlish shyness.
They went first for a drive among the lovely woods and moors that
surround Normansgrave, and it was tea-time when they at last stopped
before the door of the old mellow brick house with its air of comfort
and well-being.
Miss Rawson saw with relief, but without much surprise, that Rona had
no kind of doubt as to the position she would be asked to occupy.
Evidently no such idea as being relegated to the servants' hall
crossed her mind. She walked on Denzil's arm with pleasure, but
without any embarrassment, to what was known as the little
drawing-room, where tea was cosily set forth, and took her seat in an
armchair with cushions carefully arranged, and a footstool for her
feet, as to the manner born.
The kitten, which had traveled from Aylfleet packed in a basket, was
let out upon the floor, and, to the amusement of all, swore and spat
at his own sister, from whom he had been but ten days parted. The
putting down of a saucer of milk, and the humors of the two graceful
little creatures, sent Rona into fits of merriment, in which childish
fun Denzil joined, with a readiness which astonished and touched his
aunt.
"I hope I shall not behave so to my brother when he comes for me,"
said Rona. "And that reminds me, I must write to him this very day,
must I not, to let him know that I have changed my address?"
"By all means, my dear," said Miss Rawson.
To herself she mused: "If only people do not begin chaffing him, it
will take Denzil a long time to find out just what is the matter with
him. At present it is all quite harmless, and as long as she is here
to his hand, I verily believe that he may continue unconscious until
she is grown up. I don't see the end of this matter, unless the
brother comes next week and marches her off. Would that be a good
thing or a bad thing for Denzil, I wonder?"