Leonore Stubbs Part 26

The lower rooms were deserted when Leo hurried in; and lamps were being lit, while a faint pale moon became momentarily more clear in the dusk without. Servants were drawing down blinds and shutting shutters. Leo half expected to find the garden-door bolted, but it was not so,--and she scurried along the corridor, and prepared to mount the staircase, when her heart gave a sudden jump. There was some one in her path. Paul was on the next landing, looking from the great staircase window, with his back turned.

He was contemplating the scene without, which was certainly beautiful enough to command admiration--but Leo fancied that he was also sunk in thought. The pose of his motionless form suggested that he had not merely stopped to look out in pa.s.sing, but had come to a halt at that spot and withdrawn into himself.

She put her foot on the next step and hesitated--but he did not look round. Obviously the slight noise of her entrance had fallen on deaf ears, or been held of no consequence, as were the other openings and shutting of doors in the distance,--and that being the case, there was no absolute need to intrude.

She stole back into the shadows beneath.

Finally by a circuitous route she reached her own room unseen.

"I say, Maud does look splendid, doesn't she?"

It was Val Purcell who voiced the general sentiment, and as he did so he turned from Leonore to whom he had addressed himself, to gaze down the table afresh at her resplendent sister.

Despite the contretemps of the hair, Maud was looking her best--suited by her dress, her ornaments, and the unusual animation which coloured her cheeks, and sparkled in her eyes. Hitherto her looks, though universally admitted, had failed to elicit warmth on the part of any present--since, truth to tell, she was not a favourite. She was too cold and too grand. She never forgot that she was a Boldero, and took care that no one else should. Even honest Val, as we know, did not choose to be booked too surely as her admirer.

But that point being now settled, and the party having been a.s.sembled in the lady's honour, he was free to add his mite.

"Splendid!" he repeated, settling down again with unction. "I always did say Maud was a ripper when she chose. I hope her johnnie appreciates his luck. Between you and me, Leo," sinking his voice for her private ear, "I wonder how he dared? I wonder how he ever got it out? Maud can be so awfully nasty--Oh, I say! I don't mean that, you know."

"Then you shouldn't say it," said Leo, shortly. Maud's star was high in the heavens, while her own--where was it? nowhere. She had no star; her little glowworm light was out, and all was darkness--yet she was loyal, even with Val. "Every one is not such a craven as you, Val; and apparently Major Foster----" she paused.

"He appears to have tackled her right enough. I only wonder how he screwed himself up to the point? Bet you he had a good pint of champagne first."

"I daresay," said Leo, absently.

"Now don't you round on me for that, Leo. I know you when you speak like that. You mean to nab me the next minute."

"I shan't nab you this time. I know nothing about Major Foster's proclivities, and can't be answerable for them."

"He never drinks anything but water when he's out shooting, but he wasn't likely to face Maud upon water, was he?"

"I tell you I don't know. Ask him yourself."

"Ask him myself? That's a good one. Ask him myself? Ha--ha--ha. Well, whatever he took, it did the trick, and she looks as proud as a cat with a tin tail,--but between you and me, Leo----"

"Oh, don't have any more 'between you and me's,' Val----" But the next moment Leo demanded inconsequently: "What is it you want to say? Say it."

"He's an uncommonly nice fellow, and all that,--but----"

"But--well, but----?" impatiently.

"I should have thought he was more your sort than Maud's, that's all."

"My sort!" She was white to the lips, and there was a sudden heaving of her bosom. "My--my sort?"

"I'll tell you what I mean. We had a long day together yesterday--no, it was the day before. There wasn't much doing, the birds were shy and scattered, and I took Foster into our church, as he seemed to want to see it. I told him I generally went to yours for the sake of the walk, but--anyhow he seemed to hanker after going inside, and it is an awfully nice, rum, little old place, you know; lots of people come to see it.

Oh, they come from long distances. Foster was delighted; I couldn't tear him away. He poked and poked about, and at last he said to me: 'This is the sort of thing I've dreamed about. An English village church, with its old worn pillars and arches----' and he raved on a bit. I said I liked it too; of course I did; I had known it all my life, and he said 'Ah?' and was quite interested. And then--I don't know how it was--it just seemed as if we were in the thick of it all of a sudden--he was talking about his ideas of marriage and that. You never heard anything so queer! But it was very nice, you know. I didn't mind it a bit, only I thought to myself, 'Do you jolly well imagine you are going to catch old Maud going in with those highflown ideas? Because if _you_ do, _I_ don't.'"

"What ideas?" said Leo, in a strangled voice. She had a choking sensation in her throat.

"Eh? Well----" he considered; "they weren't exactly what you would have expected from a fellow who's knocked about as Foster has. Sort of romantic, you know."

As she made no reply, he continued: "I expect he had to let them out to some one, and perhaps Maud--what do you think? Do you see Maud playing the pious and charitable?--but I daresay she will, you know. Woa there!

I have it, I knew there was something," his tone quickened, "he called her, that's to say he didn't call _her_, but of course he meant her, he said he hoped his wife would be an 'Angel in the House,' or something of that kind. He said a lot more, but I can't remember it."

"You are remembering very well. Go on."

"So then I thought of you."

"Of me? Oh, no."

"But I did, Leo. I can't help it. Anyhow I did." After a minute he continued briskly. "Whatever made him think of Maud? She must have been jolly different to him from what she is to us. You know what I mean, Leo. If he thinks he is going to marry a saint----"

"Oh, Val, don't. You mustn't. You haven't said anything about this to other people?" said Leo, in great agitation, "you haven't, have you?"

"Rather not. Give you my word. I have been bursting with it ever since--and if my gran had known she'd have got it out of me sure as fate--but she doesn't care twopence about Foster, and is only glad it isn't you."

"Do leave me out of the question. I--I--why should you think of me at all?"

"Gran keeps me up to it. She goes on praising you. You see I never told her about _that_, Leo, and she still thinks--you know what," and he nodded significantly. "This marriage has set her going again."

After a pause it was: "You aren't making much of a dinner, Leo. You say 'no' to everything. What's put you off your feed?"

"Too much afternoon-tea probably. No, it's not that," said Leo, correcting the fib. "I'm not hungry, that's all."

"This venison is awfully good. Where did it come from? You generally do have venison about this time, I know. I have eaten it here before in October."

"Have you?"

"Where does it come from?"--reiterated he.

"From an old cousin, Anthony Boldero. We have no one else who sends us venison."

"Respects to him. His venison is A1. Leo?"

"Well?" said Leo, in a hard, dry tone. She recognised what was coming.

"It isn't me, it isn't anything I've been saying that bothers you?"

But at the same moment Leo's neighbour on her other hand spoke to her.

She was partly glad and partly sorry for this--glad because it relieved her from embarra.s.sment, but sorry because it might be difficult, and indeed it proved impossible, to lead the erratic Val back to the same point thereafter.

He had delivered himself of all he had to say on the matter, and he had a talkative damsel on the other side who having been already somewhat affronted by his neglect, was resolved to endure it no longer. The two were soon in full tide of conversation; and though Leo had her turn once and again when Miss Merivale was attacked by her other neighbour, she could not all in a brief moment resume a dialogue of such import as the above. She thought Val was approaching it once, however.

"That's a fine dog of his--of Foster's."