"I am in retail trade," confessed Peter mournfully, "and lots of people think that awful. Why, even the bookmakers and Jew usurers look down on us! Not that I care a straw--"
"I should think not!"
"Except when it comes to your family--"
"What does it matter about my family--when I--"
"Ah, do you? Do you forgive me for being a shopkeeper?"
"As if I ever thought of it!" mocked Rose, which was disingenuous of her. "I don"t mind what anybody is if he"s nice himself."
"Do you think I"m nice?"
"I am not going to pander to such egregious vanity."
"Do you think I am a gentleman? Do I pa.s.s for one--say, in a house like this?"
"I am not going to answer any more of those horrid, indelicate, unnecessary questions."
"Ah, I see--you don"t."
"I DO," she flamed out, indignant with him. "You KNOW I do! Would I--if I didn"t--"
Her mouth was stopped. In the twinkling of an eye it happened, before either of them knew it. He was carried away, and she was overwhelmed.
An earthquake could not have given them a greater shock.
"Forgive me," he muttered tremulously, when it was too late. "I know I oughtn"t to have--but I couldn"t help it! You are not angry? It was dashed impudence--but--oh, I say! we shall never get such a chance as this again--could you, do you think, put up with me? Could you--I have loved you ever since that dear morning that you came about Bruce--could you try to care for me a little bit? I"d give up the business, if you wished, and go into something else--" "If you mention that blessed business again," laughed Rose hysterically, "I won"t speak to you any more."
"I won"t--I won"t!" he promised, a joyful ring in his young voice. "As long as you don"t mind--and of course I wouldn"t like to disappoint the old pater--and, thank G.o.d, there"s plenty of money to make you comfortable wherever you like to live--Yes, yes, I know it"s awful cheek--I"ve no business to count chickens like this; but here we are, face to face at last, no one to keep me from speaking to you--and oh, darling, it must be time for the next dance, and I"m engaged for it--"
"Then go--go," she urged. "The one after this is ours, and I will wait here for you till you come back. It is only Jim, and he doesn"t matter.
I must be alone to think--to make up my mind--"
"You ANGEL!" for he knew what that meant.
Off he went, wing-footed, to get through his duty dance as best he could. Rose stayed behind, dodging amongst the bushes to hide her white dress, deaf to Jim"s strident calls. And then, presently, the lovers flitted out of the gate, across the boys" cricket ground, and down the bank of one of the five creeks, where Rose knew of a nice seat beyond the area of possible disturbance. As they sat down on it together, they leaned inwards, her head drooping to his shoulder, and his arm sliding round her waist in the most natural way in the world. Then silence, packed full. Beyond, in the moonlit waste, curlews wailing sweetly; behind, a piano barely audible from the humming house....
"What"s the matter?" asked Alice Urquhart, when her bedfellow broke out crying suddenly, for no reason that appeared.
"Oh, I don"t know," cackled Rose. "I am upset with all this--this--"
"What has upset you? Aha! I saw you and that good-looking young Mr Breen making off into the garden. You"ve been having a proposal, I suppose?"
"Yes," sobbed Rose, between two foolish laughs, and forthwith poured out the whole story to her bosom friend. She and Peter had decided not to disclose it to a soul until further consideration; but she was so full that a touch caused her to run over.
Miss Urquhart"s feelings, when she realised the fact that one of the Pennycuicks was committed to marry a draper, expressed themselves at first in a rather chilling silence. But subsequently, having reviewed the situation from its several sides, and weighed the pros and cons, she decided to a.s.sist her friend to make the best of it, as against all potential enemies.
"Of course, they will be as mad as so many March hares," said Alice, referring to the other Pennycuicks. "But after all, when you come to think of it, what is there in a draper"s shop any more than in a soft-goods warehouse?--and that"s quite aristocratic, if it"s big enough. Trade is trade, and why we should make chalk of one and cheese of another pa.s.ses me. Oh, you"ve only got to be rich nowadays to be received anywhere. These Breens seem well off, and anyway, there are the Simpsons--they are all right. Solid comfort, my dear, is not to be despised, especially when a girl can"t pick and choose, and may possibly never get another chance. He is awfully presentable, too, and most gentlemanly, I am sure. Oh, on the whole--if you ask me--I"d say, stick to him."
Alice"s voice was sad, and she sighed inwardly.
"I"m going to stick to him," said Rose.
"Well, you may count on me. I"ll get them all asked here for a picnic, and we"ll go over to Bundaboo to invite them--tomorrow. Mrs Simpson said he was only with her for a few days."
"You darling!"
"And if I were in your place, Rose, I"d marry him just as soon as he wanted me to. I"d walk out and get it done quietly, and tell them afterwards. It would save a lot of unpleasantness, and it wouldn"t force the hostile clans to try and make one family when they never could."
"I don"t see why they couldn"t. Mrs Simpson is his mother"s sister--"
"Oh, well, we shall see. I don"t know about Deb and Mary, but France can be all sorts of a cat when the fit takes her; and as she is certain to oppose it to the bitter end, she will never have done irritating his people and setting everybody at loggerheads. However, never mind that now." She enveloped Rose in a comforting embrace. "We"ll just enjoy ourselves while we can. And until we MUST start the fuss with the girls at home, we"ll keep things dark, shall we? Just you and I and he. You can tell him, when you see him tomorrow, that I am his friend."
"I will--I will! And he will adore you for your goodness."
Alice, with still no lover of her own, was pleased with this prospect.
And so Rose had a heavenly time for a week or two--Peter extending his visit to match hers--and went home, within a day of him, in good heart for the inevitable struggle.
CHAPTER XVII.
The starting of the fuss was thus described by the starter in her first letter to her friend:
"Oh, my dear, it is simply awful! There is not a sc.r.a.p of hope. Dear old Deb is the worst, because she cries--fancy DEB crying! I don"t care what Francie says and does, only, if she were not my sister, I would never speak to her again. Even Mary is antagonistic, though I don"t believe she would be if it were not for that insufferable husband of hers; he thinks himself, and puts it into her head, that we are all going to fall into the bottomless pit if we let trade into the family--as if nine-tenths and more of the aristocracy of the country were not traders, and my Peter is as good as her parson any day. But I don"t care, except for Deb. I do hate her to have to cry, through me, and to be so kind at the same time. She scolds Francie for being horrid--that does no good, she says, and she is quite right--and then asks me if I have any love left for her, and all that kind of thing. It makes me feel like a selfish brute; and yet it would not be unselfish to sacrifice Peter. Really, I am quite distracted. I have hardly slept a wink since I came back."
Further details followed:
"I did not know until I got a letter from him (by the gardener) that Peter came this morning to call--THE call--and was not let in. Keziah had been got at, you must know, and works against us; the old liar told him (under instructions, of course) that none of us was at home!--she that goes to church every Sunday, and pretends to be so pious. Old hypocrite! Well, as I was reading Peter"s letter, the door-bell rings, and who should it be but old Daddy Breen coming to demand what we mean by it, snubbing his precious son, whom he thinks good enough for a princess (and so he is). HE was not going to be turned from the door--not he; and presently I heard him and Deb at it hammer and tongs in the drawing-room, and she came up to me afterwards simply in flames.
She WAS wild. My dear, she has left off crying and started to fight.
Papa Breen (I am afraid he is a bit b.u.mptious for what she calls his cla.s.s in life) turned the scale, and now she is as implacable as Francie. She says she will NOT have the house of Pennycuick disgraced (or words to that effect) while she is alive to prevent it; and when I ask her to be just to Peter, who is no more answerable for his family than I am for mine, and not to judge him off-hand before she knows a sc.r.a.p about him, she simply looks at me as if she itched to box my ears. Isn"t it too hard? Other girls have such a lovely time when they are engaged--everybody considering them and giving them opportunities to be together. There"s not going to be anything of that sort for us, I can plainly see. Well, I shall not give him up, so they need not think it....
"I have seen my poor old boy. He was much cut up, but feels better now.... He asked me to go and see his mother.... The moment I walked in and he said, "Mother, here she is," the darling opened her arms, and we just hugged as if I was her daughter already. There is n.o.body like mothers....
"Papa Breen came home while I was there. I thought he was going to be aggrieved, but he was not with ME. If it is not a sn.o.bbish thing to say, he is rather proud of his son"s choice. He was a bit too fussy and outspoken, and dear Peter got the fidgets wondering what he would say next; but I did not mind. He talked about building us a house, but Peter whispered to me that that would take too long, and that already he had one in his eye (I know it--a lovely place, with the prettiest grounds, and stables, and coach-house, and all). Nothing is too good for me. I tried to pacify the girls by telling them I should have a comfortable home; but they seem to think that the vulgarest feature of the whole affair. It may be, but it"s nice. Would you condescend to come and stay with a draper"s wife sometimes? We are going to have Bruce to live with us....
"Then I made Peter come home with me, and I took him in myself to see Deb. He behaved as nicely as possible, but it was no use. "She is of age, Mr Breen," says Deb, with that look of hers; "she will do as she chooses, but she will never do this with my consent." And I feel I never shall. Papa Breen sticks in her throat. If only she had seen Peter before his father came, and not after! But I daresay it would have been the same. They are too eaten up with their prejudices to begin to know him....
"It is quite hopeless! Here I live in my own home without a friend, and he is treated like a pariah, my poor dear boy! He has been to see me two or three times, as he has a perfect right to do, and they have just had him shown into the drawing-room, and left him to me, neither of them coming near. And this while Bennet Goldsworthy loafs all over the house, as if it was his own, and presumes to look at me in a superior sort of way, as if I was one of his dirty little Sunday-school children in disgrace. They bring him up into the attic even--our own private room--mine as much as theirs; they never did it before, and it is only because he is banded with them against me. Well, I wouldn"t marry Bennet Goldsworthy if there was not another man in the world...
"I have my ring--SUCH diamonds! too valuable, I tell Peter; but he says nothing can be that--and I know they can"t help seeing it, because the whole room flashes when I turn it this way and that, like blue lightning playing; but they all pretend not to. Since they find they cannot break our engagement, the idea is to ignore it as if it was something so low as to be beneath their notice. Perhaps they fancy that will wear me out; but it won"t.... If they had been nice, and pleaded with me, and if Peter had not been so VERY dear and good, I might have caved in; but not now. And indeed, I am sure I never should anyway, only we might have agreed to differ without quarrelling, which we never did before. Oh, it is too miserable! Poor Mr and Mrs Breen must hate the very name of Pennycuick, and they will end by hating me if this goes on.... Peter has bought the house, and is asking me to hurry our marriage, to get me out of it. He says a private ceremony would not be dishonourable under the circ.u.mstances. It seems to me a mean sort of way to go to him, but--what do YOU think?"