Vain Fortune Part 8

'And why not, Emily?'

'To meet the man who is coming to turn me out of Ashwood!'

'How do you know that he is coming to turn you out of Ashwood? You imagine these things.... Do you suppose that Mr. Grandly would send him down here if he did not know what his intentions were?'

'But we shall have to leave Ashwood.'

'Very likely, but not in the way you imagine. Remember, Mr. Price is your cousin; you may like him very much. Let's be guided by Mr. Grandly; I have not seen your letter, but apparently he advises us to remain here and receive him.'

'I don't think I can, Julia. I have misgivings.'

'Have you been dreaming again?'

'No; I've not been dreaming, but I have misgivings.'

'You are a silly little goose, Emily. Come and give me a kiss, and promise to take my advice.'

'Dearest Julia, you do love me, don't you? Promise me that we shall not be separated, and then I don't mind.'

'Yes, dear, I promise you that, and you will promise me to try to like your cousin?'

'I'll try, Julia, but I'm awfully frightened, and--I don't think I could like him, no matter what he was like. I feel a sort of hatred in my heart.

Don't you know what I mean?' And the girl looked questioningly into her friend's eyes.

IX

'I am Miss Watson,' she said in her low musical voice, 'and this is my friend, Mrs. Bentley.' Hubert bowed, and sought for words. He found none, and the irritating silence was broken again by Miss Watson. 'Won't you sit down?' she said.

'Thank you.' He pulled off his gloves. The pained, troubled look which he had met in Miss Watson's face seemed a reproach, and he regretted not having followed his own idea, and invited the young lady to meet him at Mr.

Grandly's office. He glanced nervously from one lady to the other.

'I hope you have had a pleasant journey, Mr. Price,' said Mrs. Bentley.

'The country is looking very beautiful just at present. Do you know this part of the country?' Mrs. Bentley's words were very welcome, and Hubert replied eagerly--

'No; I do not know the country at all well. I have been very little out of London for some years, but I hope now to see more of the country. This is a beautiful place.'

At that moment he met Mrs. Bentley's eyes, and, feeling that he was touching on delicate ground, he stopped speaking. When he turned his head, he met Miss Watson's great sad eyes, which seemed to absorb the entire face, fixed upon him. They expressed such depth of pathetic appeal that he trembled with apprehension, and the instinct in him was to beg for pardon.

But it became suddenly necessary to say something, and, speaking at random, his head full of whirling words, he said--

'Of course nothing could be more sad than my poor uncle's death,--so unexpected... Having lived so long together, you must have----' Then it was Hubert's turn to look appealingly at Miss Watson; but her great eyes seemed to say, 'Go on, go on; heap cruelty on cruelty!' Then he plunged desperately, hoping to retrieve his mistakes. 'He died about a month ago.

Mr. Grandly told me I should still find you here, so I thought----'

The intensity of his emotion perhaps caused Hubert to accentuate his words, so that they conveyed a meaning different from that which he intended.

Certainly his hesitations were capable of misinterpretation, and Miss Watson said, her voice trembling,--

'Of course we know we have no right here, we are intruding; but we are making preparations.... I daresay that to-morrow we shall be able to----'

'Oh, I beg pardon, Miss Watson; let me a.s.sure you ... I am sorry if----'

Taking a little handkerchief out of her black dress, Emily covered her face in her thin, tiny hands. She sobbed aloud, and ran out of the room. Hubert turned to Mrs. Bentley, his face full of consternation.

'I am very sorry, but she did not give me time to speak. Will you go and fetch her, Mrs. Bentley? I want to tell her I hope she will never leave Ashwood. ... I believe she thinks that I came down here to ask her to leave as soon as possible. It is really quite awful that she should think such a thing.'

'She is an exceedingly sensitive girl, and is now a little overwrought. The events of the last month have proved too much for her.'

'Mr. Grandly informed me that it was Mr. Burnett's intention to add a codicil to his will, leaving Miss Watson three hundred a year. This money I am prepared to give her, and I'm quite sure she is welcome to stay here as long as she pleases. Indeed, she will do me a great favour by remaining.

Please go and tell her. I cannot bear to see a girl cry; to hear her sob like that is quite terrible.'

'You will be able to tell her yourself during the course of the evening. I think it will come better from you.'

'After what has happened, it will be very difficult for me to meet her until she is informed that she is mistaken. I charged Mr. Grandly to explain everything in his letter. Apparently he omitted to do so.'

'He only said you wanted to see Emily on a matter of business. Of course we did not expect such generosity.'

They were standing quite close together, and suddenly Hubert became conscious of Mrs. Bentley's beauty. Her blue eyes were at that moment full of tender admiration for the instinctive generosity which Hubert so unwittingly exhibited, and her eyes told what was pa.s.sing in her soul.

Suddenly they both seemed to understand each other better, and, playing with the bracelet on her arm, she said--

'You do not know Emily; she is strangely sensitive. But I will go and try to persuade her to return.... Although only distantly related, you are cousins, after all--are you not?'

'Yes, we are cousins, but the relations.h.i.+p is remote. Tell her everything; beg of her to come down-stairs.'

Hubert imagined Emily's little black figure thrown upon her bed, sobbing convulsively. He was very much agitated, and looked about the room, at first hardly seeing it. At last its novelty drew his thoughts from his cousin's tears, and he wondered what was the history of the house. 'The old man,' he thought, 'bought it all, furniture and ancestors, from some ruined landowner, and attempted very few alterations--that's clear.' Then he reproached himself. 'How could I have been so stupid? I did not know what I was saying. I was so horribly nervous. Those strange eyes of hers quite upset me. I do hope Mrs. Bentley will tell her that I wish to act generously, that I am prepared to do everything in my power to make her happy. Poor little thing! She looks as if she had never been happy.' Again the room drew Hubert's thoughts away from his cousin. It was still lit with the faint perfumed glow of the sunset. The paint of the old decorations was cracked and faded. A man in a plum-coloured coat with gold facings fixed his eyes upon him, and the tall lady in blue satin had no doubt played there in short clothes. He walked up and down, he turned over the music on the piano, and, hearing a step, looked round. It was only the servant coming to tell him that his room was ready.

He dressed for dinner, hoping to find the two ladies in the drawing-room, and it was a disappointment to find only Mrs. Bentley there.

'I have told Emily everything you said. She is very grateful, and begs of me to thank you for your kind intentions. But I am afraid you must excuse her absence from dinner. I really don't think she is in a fit state to come down; she couldn't possibly take part in the conversation.'

'But why? I hope she isn't ill? Had we better send for the doctor?'

'Oh no; she'll be all right in the morning. She has been crying. She suffers from depression of spirits. She is, I a.s.sure you, all right,' said Mrs. Bentley, replying to Hubert's alarmed and questioning face. 'I a.s.sure you there is no need for you to reproach yourself. Dinner is ready.' She took his arm, and they went into the dining-room.

No further mention was made of Mr. Burnett, of money matters, or of the young lady up-stairs; and with considerable tact Mrs. Bentley introduced the subject of literature, alluding gracefully to Hubert's position as a dramatist.

'Your play, _Divorce_, is now running at the Queen's Theatre?'

No; I'm sorry to say it was taken out of the bills last Sat.u.r.day. Sat.u.r.day night was the last performance.'

'That was not a long run. And the papers spoke so favourably of it.'

'It is a play that only appeals to the few.' And, encouraged by Mrs.

Bentley's manner, Hubert told her how happy endings and comic love-scenes were essential to secure a popular success.

'I am afraid you will think me very stupid, but I do not quite understand.'

In a quiet, un.o.btrusive way Hubert was a graceful talker, and he knew how to adapt his theme, and bring it within the circle of the sympathies of his listeners. There was some similarity of temperament between himself and Mrs. Bentley; they were both quiet, fair, meditative Saxons. She lent her whole mind to the conversation, interested in the account that the young man gave of his dramatic aspirations.