The Story Book Girls

by S. R. Crockett

  CHAPTER XXII

  The Engagement

  The night at Lady Emily's was by no means a first step into a new andfashionable world. Mabel and Jean never doubted for a moment that theywere anything but spectators of that brilliant gathering. Even AdelaideMaud was only a spectator. Lady Emily and her husband were differentfrom the world in which they moved because they had hobbies and minorinterests which they occasionally allowed to interfere with the usualroutine. Mr. Dudgeon had been known to skip a state banquet for a bookwhich he has just received. And Lady Emily would make such calls andgive such invitations as resulted in that wonderful little dinner party.But as for any of her set being interested, why, there was no time forthat. Place something in their way, like Mabel sitting on a couch, partof which Earl Knuptford desired to make use and one met a "belted Earl."He became interested and dropped sentences pell-mell on Mabel'sastonished head. For days, Jean dreamed of large envelopesarriving--"The Earl and Countess of Knuptford request," etc.

  ("You donkey, there's no countess," interjected Mabel.) The Earl wouldas soon have thought of inviting the lamp post which brought his motorto a full stop and his Lordship's gaze on it correspondingly. Bringthese people to a pause in front of something, and they might delaythemselves to interview it. But while one is not part of the machinerywhich takes them on, there is no chance of continuing the acquaintance.

  Adelaide Maud told them as much. It seemed to Mabel that Adelaide Maudwanted them to know that though she lived in this world, she was by nomeans of it. She enjoyed herself often quite as much in the shillingseats. Her view of things did not prevent Mabel and Jean fromparticipating in benefits to be derived from the acquaintance of LadyEmily. There ensued a happy time when they had seats at the Opera, ofwhich an autumn season was in full swing, of occasional concerts anddrives, and once they went with Lady Emily and Mr. Dudgeon far into thecountry on a motor. For the rest, friends of their own looked them up,and they had hardly a moment unfilled with practising which was notdevoted to going about and seeing the world of London. The Clubimproved with acquaintance, and it was wonderful how the very girls whoannoyed Jean so much on her arrival became part of their very existence."We are so dull," she would write home, "because Violet has gone off forthe week end," or "We didn't go out because Ethel and Gertrude wanted usto have tea with them."

  Adelaide Maud left for home. That was the tragic note of their visit.Then Cousin Harry turned up with his sister and her husband and offeredto run them over to Paris for Christmas. Here the cup overflowed.Paris!

  It was a new wrench for Mr. Leighton, who meant to get them home forChristmas and if possible keep them there. But he knew that a trip withMrs. Boyne would be of another "seventh heaven" order, and once more hegave way.

  "Can you hold the fort a little longer?" wrote Mabel to Elma.

  Elma held the fort.

  She held it, wondering often what would come of it all. She was in theposition of a younger sister to one she did not love. Isobel chaperonedher everywhere. They had reached a calm stage where they took each otherin quite a polite manner, but never were confidential at all. Mr. andMrs. Leighton saw the politeness and were relieved. They saw further,and lamented Isobel's great friendship with the Merediths. It seemed toMr. Leighton that although he would much rather leave the affair alone,that Isobel was in his care, that she was a handsome, magnificent girl,and that she ought not to be offered calmly as a sort of secondsacrifice to the caprices of Robin. He spoke to her one evening verygently about it when they were alone.

  "I thought I ought to tell you," said Mr. Leighton, "that in a tacitsort of manner, Mr. Meredith attached himself very closely to Mabel.She was so young that I did not interfere, as now I am very much afraidI ought to have done. It is a little difficult, you see, for your Auntin particular, who is asked on every side, 'I had understood that Mabelwas to marry Mr. Meredith.' I want you to know of course that Mabelnever will marry him now. I should see to that myself, if she had notalready told me that she had no desire to. He is not tied in any way,except, as I consider, in the matter of honour. I did not interferebefore, but at present I am almost compelled to. I'm before everythingyour guardian, my dear. I should like you to find a man worthy ofyourself."

  He had done it as kindly as he knew how.

  Isobel sat calmly gazing past him into the fire. There was no rufflingof her features. Only a faint suggestion of power against which itseemed luckless to fight.

  "I knew a good deal of this, of course," she said.

  "Oh." Mr. Leighton started slightly.

  "Yes. But of course there is a similar tale of every man, and everygirl--wherever they are boxed up in a place of this size. Somebody hasto make love to somebody. I don't suppose Mr. Meredith thought ofmarriage."

  It seemed as though Mr. Leighton were the young, inexperienced person,and that Isobel was the one to impart knowledge.

  "In justice to Mr. Meredith, I do not know in the slightest what hethought. That is where my case loses its point. I ought to have known.I certainly, of course, think that I ought to know now."

  "Oh," said Isobel. She rose very simply and looked as placid as a lakeon a calm morning. "That is very simple. Mr. Meredith intends to marryme whenever I give him the opportunity."

  Mr. Leighton was thunderstruck. At the bottom of his mind, he wasthankful now that "his girls" were away. Memories of the stumblingblock which the existence of Robin's sister had before occasioned madehim ask first, "Does Miss Meredith know?"

  He spoke in quite a calm manner. It frustrated Isobel for the moment,who had expected an outburst. She wavered slightly in her answer.

  "I don't know," she said.

  Mr. Leighton moved impatiently.

  "That is just it," he said. "This young man makes tentativearrangements and leaves out the important parties to it. Miss Meredithis quite capable of upsetting her brother's plans. Do you know it?"

  It seemed that Isobel did. It seemed that Miss Meredith was the oneperson who could ruffle her. From that day of negligently answering andpartly snubbing her in the train, Isobel had showed a side of coolindifference to Miss Meredith.

  "I want you to know, Uncle, that I shall not consider Miss Meredith inthe slightest."

  Could this be a young girl?

  "Do you know what Mabel, what all of you did? You considered MissMeredith. What were the consequences? She gave Mabel away with bothhands. She wants her brother to marry Miss Dudgeon. He won't marry MissDudgeon. He will marry me."

  She rose slightly.

  "And Miss Meredith won't have the slightest possible say in the matter."

  Mr. Leighton looked rather pale. He flicked quietly the ash from hiscigar before answering her.

  "It's a different way of dealing with people than I am accustomed to.Will you keep your decision open for a little yet?"

  "I shall, till summer, when we mean to be married."

  There seemed to be no altering the fact that she was to be married.

  "I should be so sorry if, while here with me--with all of us, you didnot find a man worthy of you."

  "I won't change my mind," she said.

  "And Robin?"

  He had returned to the old term.

  "He didn't change his mind before. Miss Meredith did it for him. I amquite alive to the fact that if Miss Meredith hadn't interfered, and Ihadn't come, he would now be engaged to Mabel."

  Mr. Leighton appeared dumbfoundered.

  "Do you care very much for him?" he asked.

  "Oh, yes." Isobel looked almost helplessly at him. "He isn't the man Idreamed of, but he is mine, you know. It has come to that."

  She sank on her knees beside him, her eyes blazing.

  "Isn't it an indignity for me, as much as for Mabel, to take what shedidn't want? You say she doesn't want him. At first--oh! I onlydesired to show my power. I always meant to marry a wealthier man. Butit's no use. He is a waverer, don'
t I know it. I see him calculatingwhether I'm worth the racket. I see that--I! Isn't it deplorable! ButI mean to make a man of him. He never has been one before. And I meanto marry him, Uncle."

  Mr. Leighton smoked and smoked at his cigar. He was beginning at lastto fathom the nature that took what it wanted--with both hands.

  "Isobel," he said gently, "let us drop all this question of Mabel. Itisn't that which comes upper-most, now. It's the question of what youlose by marrying in this way. Don't you know that this dropping of MissMeredith, this way of 'paying her out,' you know, well, it may give youRobin intact; but have you an idea what you may lose in the process? Idon't admire the girl, but--she is his sister. I have never known"--hethrew away his cigar--"I have never yet known of a happy, a really happymarriage, where the happiness of two was built on the discomfiture ofothers. Won't you reconsider the whole position of being down on MissMeredith, and paying everybody out who was concerned in Robin's affairsbefore you knew him? Won't you try to make your wedding a happiness toevery one--even to Miss Meredith?"

  "Oh," said Isobel, "I don't know that the average bride thinks much ofthe happiness of relations. She has her trousseaux and the guests to beinvited, and all that sort of thing." She turned over a book which waslying near. "I don't think I should have time for Miss Meredith," shesaid coldly.

  Mr. Leighton sat quite quietly.

  "Will you be married here?" he asked.

  A gleam came to Isobel's eyes.

  "That would be nice," she said. There was the feeling of an answer toan invitation in her voice.

  "It's at your disposal," he said, "anything we can do for yourhappiness."

  "Is that to show that I do nothing for anybody else's?" Isobel wasreally grateful.

  "Perhaps." He said it rather sadly.

  "I might make an endeavour over Sarah," she said.

  "You know, from the first, the day you came in the train, you told usyou had ignored her, hadn't you? She nursed Robin through a longillness. Saw him grow up and all that kind of thing. Never sparedherself in the matter of looking after him!"

  "Well?" asked Isobel.

  "Well," said Mr. Leighton, "it's rather pathetic, isn't it?"

  The day was won in a partial manner; for Isobel promised she would tryto "ingratiate Sarah."

  "It's the wrong way of putting it, but it may make a beginning," saidMr. Leighton.

  He further insisted on seeing Robin. That was a bad half-hour for everyone, but for no one so particularly as for Robin. He had evaded so manythings with Mr. Leighton, and for once he found that gentler natureadamant.

  Nothing went quite so much against this gentler nature as having toarrange matters for Isobel. So Robin discovered. Yet already it madewhat Isobel called "a man of him." He was a man to be ruled, and Mabelhad placed herself under his ruling. Here was the real mischief.Isobel would take him firmly in hand.

  The girls were greatly mystified, Elma horrified. They had orders totake the news of Isobel's engagement as though it might be an expectedevent, and certainly no sign was given that it was in the nature of asurprise. Jean could not understand Mabel when the news arrived. Shelaughed and sang and kissed Jean as though the world had suddenly becomehappy throughout.

  "I thought you would have been cut up," said Jean disconsolately.

  "Cut up! Why they are made for one another," cried Mabel. "Isobel,calm and firm, Robin, wavering and admiring, nothing could be better.But oh--oh--I want to see how Sarah takes it."

  They had a particular grind just then, for now they were getting intospring, and it would soon be time for making that triumphant passagehome of which they had so often dreamed. They lived for that now, butnone lived for it more devotedly than Elma.

  Isobel's engagement cut her further and further away from enjoyinganything very much. She had always the feeling of cold critical eyesbeing on her. She often congratulated herself on having got over thestage where she used long words in quite their wrong sense. Isobel'sproximity in these days would have been dreadful.

  Miss Grace also seemed downhearted. It had been a trying winter forher, yet no actual evidence of ill-health had asserted itself. She wasconcerned about Elma too, who seemed to be losing what the others weregaining by being away, that just development which comes from happyexperience. Elma plodded and played, but her bright little soul onlycame out unfledged of fear at Miss Grace's.

  At last one day Miss Grace's face lit.

  "My dear, your gift is composition."

  Nobody ever had thought of it before. Elma's expression lightened to atransforming radiance.

  "Oh, I wonder if I ever could get lessons," she cried.

  They discovered a chance, through correspondence. So Elma held the fort,and tried to grapple single-handed with musical composition.

  "If only I could compose an anthem before Mabel and Jean get home," shesaid one day.

  "Heavens, Elma, you aren't going to die?" asked Betty.