And while he answered gallantly and paid her the grossest compliments, she knew he was laughing in his sleeve all the time, and it made her venom rise higher and higher.
Patrick Fitzgerald, the younger, was a dissipated, vicious youth, with his mother"s faded coloring and none of the Fitzgerald charm. How infinitely her father surpa.s.sed any of the family she had seen yet, Theodora thought.
She did not enjoy her dinner. The youth"s conversation was not interesting. But it was not until the ladies left the dining-room that her real penance began.
It seemed as if all the women crowded to one end of the drawing-room round Lady Harrowfield, and talked and whispered to one another, not one making way for Theodora or showing any knowledge of her presence.
Barbara had gone off up to her room. She was too frightened of Mildred to disobey her, and she felt she would rather not be there to see their hateful ways to the dear, little, gentle cousin whom she thought she could love so much.
Theodora subsided on a sofa, wondering to herself if these were the manners of the great world in general. She hoped not; but although no human creature could be quite happy under the circ.u.mstances, she was not greatly distressed until she distinctly caught the name of "Mr. Brown"
from the woman Josiah had taken in amid a burst of laughter, and saw Mildred, with a glance at her, ostentatiously suppress the speaker, who then continued her narration in almost a whisper, amid mocking t.i.tters of mirth.
Then anger burned in Theodora"s gentle soul. They were talking about Josiah, of course, and turning him into ridicule.
She wondered, what would be the best to do. She was too far away to attempt to join in the conversation, or to be even able to swear she had heard aright, although there was no doubt in her own mind about it.
So she sat perfectly still on her great sofa, her hands folded in her lap, while two bright spots of wild rose flushed her cheeks.
She did not even pick up a book. There she sat like an alabaster statue, and most of the women were conscious of the exquisitely beautiful picture she made.
They could not stand in this packed group all the time, the whole dozen or more of them, and they gradually broke up into twos and threes about the large room.
They were delightfully friendly with one another, and all seemed in the best of spirits and tempers.
Most of them had no ulterior motive in their behavior to Theodora; it was merely the feeling that they were not the hostess and responsible.
It was none of their business if Ada neglected her guests, and they all knew plenty of people and did not care to enlarge their acquaintance gratuitously.
So when they came in from the dining-room more than one of the men understood the picture they saw, of the beautiful, little, strange lady seated alone, while the other women chatted together in groups.
Hector was feeling irritated and excited, and longing to get near Theodora. He guessed Lord Wensleydown would have the same desire, and had no intention of being interfered with. He felt he could not bear to spend an evening watching the little brute daring to lean over her. He should kill him, or commit some violence, he knew.
Thus prudence, which at another time would have held him--would have made him remember what was best for her among this crowd of hostile women--flew to the winds. He must go to her--must show her he loved and would protect her, and, above all, that he would permit no other man to usurp his place.
And Theodora, who had been suffering silently a miserable feeling of loneliness and neglect, felt her heart bound with joy at the sight of his loved, familiar face, and she welcomed him more warmly than she had ever done before.
"Have these demons of women been odious to you, darling?" he whispered, hardly conscious of the term of endearment he had used. "Do not mind them; it is only jealousy because you are so beautiful and young."
"They have not been anything at all," she said, softly; "they have just left me alone and kept to themselves, and--and laughed at Josiah, and that has made me very angry, because--what has he done to them?"
"I loathe them all!" said Hector. "They are hardly fit to be in the same room with you, dear queen--and if you really belonged to me I would take you away from them now--to-night."
His voice was a caress, and that sentence, "belonged to me," always made her heart beat with its pictured possibilities. Oh, how she loved him!
Could anything else in the world really matter while he could sit there and she could feel his presence and hear his tender words?
And so they talked awhile, and then they looked up and surveyed the scene. Josiah had been joined by Sir Patrick, and they were earnestly conversing by the fireplace. One or two pairs sat about on the sofas; but the general company showed signs of flocking off to the bridge-tables, which were laid out in another drawing-room beyond. And the couples joined them gradually, until only Lord Wensleydown and Morella Winmarleigh remained near and watched them with mocking eyes.
Hector had never before realized that Morella could have so much expression in her face.
How could he ever have thought under any conceivable circ.u.mstances, even at the end of his life, it would be possible to marry her! How thankful he felt he had never paid her any attention, or from his behavior given color to his mother"s hopes.
He remembered a fairy story he had read in his youth, where a magic power was given to the hero of discovering what beast each human being was growing into by grasping their hands. And he wondered, if the gift had been his, what he should now find was the destiny of those two in front of him!
Wensleydown, no doubt, would be a great, sensual goat and Morella a vicious mule. And the idea made him laugh as he turned to Theodora again, to feast his eyes on her pure loveliness.
The Crow, who had arrived late and been among the last to enter the drawing-room before dinner, had not yet had an opportunity of speaking to Mrs. Brown, as he had been dragged off among the first of the bridge-players.
Presently Mildred looked through the door from the room beyond and called: "Freddy and Morella, come and play; we must have two more to make up the numbers. Uncle Patrick will bring Lord Bracondale presently."
Josiah and Theodora did not count at all, it seemed!
"What intolerable insolence!" said Hector, through his teeth. "I shall not play bridge or stir from here."
And Lord Wensleydown called back: "Do give one a moment to digest one"s dinner, dear Lady Mildred. Miss Winmarleigh does not want to come yet, either. We are very--interested--and happy here."
Morella t.i.ttered and played with her fan. The dull, slow rage was simmering within her. Even her vanity could not misinterpret the meaning of Hector"s devotion to Mrs. Brown. He was deeply in love, of course, and she, Morella, was robbed of her hopes of being Lady Bracondale. Her usually phlegmatic nature was roused in all its narrow strength. She was like some silent, vengeful beast waiting a chance to spring.
And so the evening wore away. Sir Patrick drew Josiah into the bridge-room, and made him join one of the tables where they were waiting for a fourth--Josiah, who was a very bad player, and did not really care for cards! But luck favored him, and the woman opposite restrained the irritable things she had ready to say to him when she first perceived how he played his hand.
And all the while Hector sat by Theodora, and learned more and more of her fair, clear mind. All the thoughts she had upon every subject he found were just and quaint and in some way illuminating. It was her natural sweetness of nature which made the great charm--that quality which Mrs. McBride had remarked upon, and which every one felt sooner or later.
Nothing of the ascetic saint or goody _poseuse_. She did not walk about with a book of poems under her arm, and wear floppy clothes and talk about her own and other people"s souls. She was just human and true and attractive.
Theodora had perhaps no religion at all from the orthodox point of view; but had she been a Mohommedan or a Confucian or a Buddhist, she would still have been Theodora, full of gentleness and goodness and grace.
The entire absence of vanity and self-consciousness in her prevented her from feeling hurt or ruffled even with these ill-mannered women. She thought them rude and unpleasant, but they could not really hurt her except by humiliating Josiah. Her generosity instantly fired at that.
Both she and Hector perceived that Morella and Lord Wensleydown sat there watching them for no other reason but to disconcert and tease them, and it roused a spirit of resistance in both. While this was going on they would not move.
And Hector employed the whole of his self-control to keep himself from making actual love to her, and they talked of many things, and she understood and was grateful.
Presently, apparently, Morella could stand it no longer, for she rose rather abruptly and said to Lord Wensleydown:
"Come, let us play bridge."
They went on into the other room, and Theodora and Lord Bracondale were left quite alone.
"I should like to find Josiah," said Theodora. "Shall we not go, too?"
And they also followed upon the others" heels. Lady Ada happened to be out at her table, and some tardy sense of her duties as a hostess came to her, for she crossed over to where Theodora stood by the door and made some ordinary remark about hoping it would be fine on the morrow so they could enjoy the gardens.
And while she talked and looked into the blue eyes something attracted and softened her. She was very gentle and pretty, after all, the new niece, she decided, and Mildred had been quite wrong in saying she was an upstart and must be snubbed.
Lady Ada had a nervous way of blinking her light lashes in a fashion which suggested she might suffer from headache.
To Theodora she seemed a sad woman, full of cares, and she felt a kindly pity for her and no resentment for her rudeness.
Mildred looked up, and a frown of annoyance darkened her face.
The "creature" should certainly not make a conquest of her hostess if she could help it!