The Young Step-Mother Part 40

The elder Maurice could hardly help shrugging his shoulders. Well did he know that Mr. Kendal would have joined the team if such had been the will of that sovereign in scarlet merino, who stood with one hand in Gilbert's, and the whip in the other.

'Come here, Maurice,' quoth Albinia; 'put down the whip,' and she extracted it from his grasp, with grave resolution, against which he made no struggle, gave it to Lucy to be put away, and seated him on her knee. 'Now listen, Maurice; poor sister Sophy is tired, and you are never to make a horse of her. Do you hear?'

'Yes,' said Maurice, fidgeting.

'Mind, if ever you make a horse of Sophy, mamma will put you into the black cupboard. You understand?'

'Sophy shan't be horse,' said Maurice. 'Sophy naughty, lazy horse. Boy has Gibbie--'

'There's grat.i.tude,' said Mr. Ferrars, as 'Boy' slid off his mamma's knee, stood on tiptoe to pull the door open, and ran after Gilbert to grandmamma's room.

'Yes,' said Albinia, 'no one is grateful for services beyond all reason.

So, Sophy, mind, into the cupboard he goes, the very next time you are so silly as to be a horse.'

'To punish which of them?' asked her brother.

'Sophy knows,' said Albinia.

Sophy was too miserable to smile. Sarah Anne Drury had been calling, and on hearing of Gilbert's indisposition, had favoured them with 'mamma's remarks,' and when Mrs. Kendal was blamed, Sophy had indignantly told Sarah Anne that she knew nothing about it, and had no business to interfere. Then followed the accusation, that Mrs. Kendal had set the whole family against their old friends, and Sophy had found all her own besetting sins charged upon her step-mother.

'My dear!' said Albinia, 'don't you know that if a royal tiger were to eat up your cousin John in India, the Drurys would say Mrs. Kendal always let the tigers run about loose! Nor am I sure that your faults are not my fault. I helped you to be more exclusive and intolerant, and I am sure I tried your temper, when I did not know what was the matter with you--'

'No--no,' said the choked voice. It would have been an immense comfort to cry, or even to be able to return the kiss; but she was a great deal too wretched to be capable of any demonstration; physically exhausted by being driven about by Maurice; mentally worn out by the attempts to be amiable, which had degenerated into wrangling, full of remorse for having made light of her brother's illness, and, for that reason, persuaded that she was to be punished by seeing it become fatal. Not a word of all this did she say, but, dejected and silent, she spent the evening in a lonely corner of the drawing-room, while her brother, in the full pleasure of returning home, and greatly enjoying his invalid privileges, was discussing the projected improvements.

Talking at last brought back his cough with real violence, and he was sent to bed; Albinia went up with him to see that his fire burnt. He set Mr. Ferrars's drawing of the alms-houses over his mantelshelf. 'I shall nail it up to-morrow,' he said. 'I always wanted a picture here, and that's a jolly one to look to.'

'It would be a beautiful beginning,' she said. 'I think your life would go the better for it, Gibbie.'

'I suppose old nurse would be too grand for one,' he said, 'but I should like to have her so near! And you must mind and keep old Mrs. Baker out of the Union for it. And that famous old blind sailor! I shall put him up a bench to sit in the sun, and spin his yarns on, and tell him to think himself at Greenwich.'

Albinia went down, only afraid that his being so very good was a dangerous symptom.

Sophy was far from well in the morning, and Albinia kept her upstairs, and sent her G.o.dfather to make her a visit. He always did her good; he knew how to probe deeply, and help her to speak, and he gave her advice with more experience than his sister, and more encouragement than her father.

Sophy said little, but her eyes had a softened look.

'One good thing about Sophy,' said he afterwards to his sister, 'is, that she will never talk her feelings to death.'

'That reserve is my great pain. I don't get at the real being once in six months.'

'So much the better for people living together.'

'Well, I was thinking that you and I are a great deal more intimate and confidential when we meet now, than we used to be when we were always together.'

'People can't be often confidential from the innermost when they live together,' said Maurice.

'Since I have been a Kendal, such has been my experience.'

'It was the same before, only we concealed it by an upper surface of chatter,' said Maurice. '"As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth a man the countenance of his friend;" but if the mutual sharpening went on without intermission, both irons would wear away, and no work would be done.

Aren't you coming with me? Edmund is going to drive me to Woodside to meet the pony-carriage from home.'

'I wish I could; but you see what happens when I go out pleasuring!'

'Well, you can take one element of mischief with you--that imp, Maurice.'

'Ye--es. Papa would like it, if you do.'

'I should like you to come on worse terms.'

'Very well, then; and Sophy is safe; I had already asked Genevieve to come and read to her this afternoon. If Gilbert can spare me, I will go.'

Gilbert did not want her, and begged Lucy not to think of staying indoors on his account. He was presently left in solitary possession of the drawing-room, whereupon he rose, settled his brown locks at the gla.s.s, arranged his tie, brushed his cuffs, leisurely walked upstairs, and tapped at the door of the morning-room, meekly asking, 'May I come in?' with a cough at each end of the sentence.

'Oh! Gilbert!' cried his anxious sister, starting up. 'Are you come to see me?' and she would have wheeled round her father's arm-chair for him, but Genevieve was beforehand with her, and he sank into it, saying pathetically, 'Ah! thank you, Miss Durant; you are come to a perfect hospital. Oh! this is too much,' as she further gave him a footstool.

'Oh! no, thank you, Sophy,' for she would have handed Genevieve her own pillow for his further support; 'this is delightful!' reclining pathetically in his chair. 'This is not like Traversham.'

'Where they would not believe he was ill!' said Sophy.

'I hope he does not look so very ill,' said Genevieve, cheerfully, but this rather hurt the feelings of both; the one said, 'Oh! but he is terribly pale,' the other coughed, and said, 'Looks are deceitful.'

'That is the very reason,' said Genevieve. 'You don't look deceitful enough to be so ill--so ill as Miss Sophie fears; now you are at home, and well cared for, you will soon be well.'

'Care would have prevented it all,' said Sophy.

'And not brought me home!' said Gilbert. 'Home is home on any terms.

No one there had the least idea a fellow could ever be unwell or out of spirits!'

'Ah! you must have been ill,' cried his sister, 'you who never used to be miserable!'

Gilbert gave a sigh. 'They were such mere boys,' he said.

'Monsieur votre Precepteur?' asked Genevieve.

'Ah! he was otherwise occupied!'

'There is some mystery beneath,' said Genevieve, turning to Sophy, who exclaimed abruptly, 'Oh! is he in love?'

'Sophy goes to the point,' said Gilbert, smiling, the picture of languid comfort; 'but I own there are suspicious circ.u.mstances. He always has a photograph in his pocket, and Price has seen him looking at it.'

'Ah! depend upon it, Miss Sophy, it is all a romance of these young gentlemen,' said Genevieve, turning to her with a droll provoking air of confidence; 'ce pauvre Monsieur had the portrait of his sister!'

'Catch me carrying Sophy's face in my waistcoat pocket, cried Gilbert, forgetting his languor.

'Speak for yourself, Mr. Gilbert,' laughed Genevieve.

'And he writes letters every day, and wont let any of us put them into the post for him; but we know the direction begins with Miss--'

'Oh! the curious boys!' cried Genevieve. 'If I could only hint to this poor tutor to let them read Miss Downton on one!'