"Then it"s agreed! To-morrow, the beggar shall have his chance! The day after, I"ll try mine."
Just then the door opened and Mr. Ely appeared. Mr. Summers rushed to him with outstretched hand.
"Hallo, Ely, haven"t seen you for an age! You"re looking queer! You ought to try a change of air."
"Think so? To-morrow I"m going out of town."
"Are you? That"s odd! The day after I"m going too."
These remarks were exchanged while the two gentlemen shook hands.
CHAPTER III
MR. ELY ARRIVES
Miss Truscott was evidently not in the pleasantest frame of mind. It was unfortunate, for she was the kind of maid one feels instinctively ought always to be in a pleasant frame of mind. Tall, slender, with great, big eyes, sunny hair, and the sweetest smile. The latter, however, was conspicuous by its absence, as she sat at the breakfast-table with an open letter in her hand.
She was at breakfast with her aunt. Mrs. Clive was a precise old lady, who always indoors wore lace cuffs and collar, and the neatest of caps. It was a peculiarity of hers that she was never known to be anything but cool and self-possessed. Sometimes her niece was neither.
Then it increased the young lady"s sense of aggravation to observe how her aunt"s demeanour contrasted with her own--as, for instance, it did now.
"You don"t seem to be in the least surprised or annoyed or hurt. You quite take it for granted that I should be insulted."
Mrs. Clive considered for a moment before she answered. She sat bolt upright, her hands in her lap, the model of decorum.
"My dear Lily, the younger generation is impetuous."
Miss Truscott sighed. To be called impetuous under the circ.u.mstances of the case seemed almost more than she could bear.
"I write to my guardian on the whole four sides of a sheet of paper to tell him that I must get away from this dreadful place or I shall die, and this is the answer he sends."
She spread the letter out before her on the table and read it aloud, with comments by the way.
""My dear Lily" (yes, dear at any price, I know), "I have read your charming letter with the greatest interest." (Did anybody ever hear the like of that? He read my charming letter with the greatest interest, when I wrote to tell him that I quite believed that I should die!) "You are indeed a mistress of the epistolary art." (That is a pretty compliment to pay when you write and tell a person that life is not worth living!) "The account which you give of the doings of your neighbours is most entertaining." (Now I never mentioned a single word about anything but the state of my mind!) "It is with the greatest pleasure that I hear of your continuance in good health." (When the whole letter was written to tell him that I was nearly dead!) "I am glad to hear, too, that your aunt, Mrs. Clive, is still in the enjoyment of nature"s greatest blessing." (What nature"s greatest blessing is I don"t know, but I am sure I never even breathed your name.) "Pray convey to her my compliments." (With pleasure, aunt!) "I envy you your sojourn amidst summer"s scenic splendours." (That is what he says, and I actually told him that I was convinced that if I stayed any longer amidst what he calls "summer"s scenic splendours" I should just go raving mad!) "Tied as I am to the Juggernaut of commerce, I can, however, but look and long." Now did you--did you ever hear anything like that? And yet you say the younger generation is impetuous! I should just like to have my affectionate guardian here; I"d let him know what the Juggernaut really was!"
The young lady seemed a little excited, but the elder one was still quite calm.
"You have forgotten the postscript, my dear."
"Forgotten the postscript! Oh, aunty, don"t I wish I could!" By the way, a friend of yours, Mr. Frederic Ely, will be with you to-morrow morning, perhaps almost as soon as you get this." Perhaps the wretch is actually on the doorstep now!"
"Lily, Lily! How can you talk like that!"
"So he is a wretch! But never mind, it"s all the same to me. "He is a gentleman for whose character I have the greatest respect. He will ask my dear Lily a question in which both he and I are deeply interested.
I earnestly trust that my dear Lily"s heart will answer Yes." Talk about a woman"s postscript! Mr. Ash puts nothing in his letter, and the whole library of the British Museum in his P.S.! Well, aunty, what do you think of that?"
"I congratulate you, my dear, on the near approach of your settlement in life."
Miss Truscott gave a little shriek, and then was dumb. She glared at her aunt as though she could believe neither her eyes or ears. Mrs.
Clive went placidly on.
"It is indeed gratifying to learn that Mr. Ash has made his choice."
"Who has made his choice?" asked Miss Truscott between her little teeth.
"One for whose character he has the greatest respect. Such words coming from Mr. Ash are satisfactory in the extreme. You are indeed fortunate in possessing a guardian who has your interests so entirely at heart."
"What are you talking about?" asked Miss Truscott. "Do you think I shall marry this man?"
"Lily!" exclaimed Mrs. Give. "You have such a singular way of expressing yourself. But perhaps"--the old lady smoothed her gown--"perhaps you are a little surprised."
Miss Truscott gave a sort of gasp.
"I am," she said. "I am a little surprised!"
"I suppose we are all when our turns come. I remember in my young days when my dear mother told me that I was to marry Mr. Clive."
"Told you you were to marry Mr. Clive?"
"Yes, my dear. And I remember quite well how bewildered I was at first."
"Didn"t you love him, then?"
"My dear, how can you ask me such a question! We were comparative strangers. I had only been acquainted with him about three months."
"Three months! Good gracious! Why, I thought three minutes was long enough to fall in love!"
"Lily, I am amazed to hear you talk so flippantly! It is plain that it is quite time that you had more settled views of life. Among the new responsibilities on which you are now about to enter I trust that you will learn the solemnity of woman"s position in the world, and the deference which she owes to the married state."
Miss Truscott laughed. Her laughter was of rather an hysterical kind, as though it were near akin to tears. But Mrs. Clive was shocked. She regarded Miss Truscott with what she intended to be considered as severe disapprobation. Then, with her most stately air, she rose and left the room. Pausing at the door, however, she delivered herself of a final expression of her opinion.
"Lily, I am disappointed in you. I can only hope that Mr. Ely will not have cause to be disappointed too."
When Miss Truscott was left alone she sat quite still, looking into vacancy. The smile about the corners of her mouth was hardly up to its usual character for sweetness. There was a glitter in her eyes which gave them quite a new expression. Suddenly she leaned her face upon her hands and shivered. It could hardly have been with cold, for the sun was shining and the day was warm. Then she got up, and began pacing restlessly about the room.
"Is it a dream? Is it a dream?" Her hands were clasped with a sort of hysteric energy.
"What does it matter! He has forgotten me! What fools we women are!"
She took out a locket which was hidden in the bosom of her dress, and gazed upon the face which it contained.
"w.i.l.l.y!"--how softly she breathed the name--"twelve months since you told me that story with your eyes--twelve months ago! Where have you been this weary time! I suppose it was an incident with you. I have heard those sort of things are incidents with men. What a fool I was to take it seriously! What fools we women are! I ought to have known that it was the fashion with Mr. Summers to love and ride away."
She stood gazing at the portrait. All at once something angered her--some recollection, perhaps, of long ago. She snapped the slender chain to which it was attached, and flung the locket on the floor. As if not content with this degradation of her treasure, she placed her little foot upon it and crushed it beneath her heel.
"What fools we women are!"