CHAPTER VII
MRS. CLIVE--AND POMPEY
Mrs. Clive had the faithful Pompey in her arms. That faithful animalwas out for exercise, and exercise meant as a rule, to him, beingcarried all the way. His mistress stared at the lovers, and thelovers, taken aback for a moment, stared at her.
"Can I believe my eyes!"
In her amazement she let the faithful creature fall. Pompey gave adismal groan. He did not belong to the order of dogs who can fall withcomfort to themselves. Where he fell he lay. In the agitation of herfeelings Mrs. Clive did not notice the quadruped's distress.
"Lily! Is it possible it is my niece!"
Quite possible, it seemed, and not at all surprising, either.
Recovering from the first momentary shock, Miss Truscott was the mostcharming niece alive. Removing herself from the gentleman's nearneighbourhood, she inclined her body and gave a little gracefulcurtsey--a prettier curtsey never yet was seen.
"Yes, aunty, it is I." Then she drew herself up straight. "You alwayssaid I was your niece." Then she turned to the gentleman. "Willy,don't you know my aunt?"
Mr. Summers laughed. The old lady bridled, but the gentleman, not atall abashed, took off his hat and advanced to her with outstretchedhand.
"Mrs. Clive, it is twelve months since I saw you. I am afraid you haveforgotten me."
But he was mistaken if he thought that she would take his hand. Therenever was an old lady with a stiffer mien, and she was at her stiffestnow. She had her mittened hands down by her sides, and looked him inthe face as though she could not see that he was there.
"I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, sir."
This was a fib, but there are occasions when fibs must be expected.
"My name is Summers--William Summers. I thought I heard you just nowmention me by name. And I, at least, have not forgotten the pleasanthours I spent with you last year."
"Lily, I must trouble you to come with me."
That was the only answer he received to his small compliment. With hermost unbending air the old lady turned to go. But the impression shedesired to convey was in a measure spoiled. In sweeping round--heraction could only be described as sweeping round--she kicked thefaithful Pompey; and when the faithful Pompey received that kick heraised a dreadful howl, and that dreadful howl awoke the echoes farand wide. In an instant Mr. Summers had the ill-used creature in hisarms.
"Poor Pompey! I am afraid you have hurt him, Mrs. Clive. How well helooks! See, Mrs. Clive, he seems in pain. I'm afraid you must havekicked him in the side, and in his condition that is rather a seriousthing. Don't you know me, Pompey?"
It appeared that Pompey did, for, in a feeble kind of way, he put outhis tongue and licked his protector's nose. Such a sight could not buttouch the lady's heart. Still, of course, it was out of the questionthat she should unbend.
"I must trouble you, sir, to let me have my dog."
"Permit me to carry him for you towards the house. I'm sure he is inpain--see how still he is."
If stillness were a sign of pain, then the faithful beast must havebeen pretty constantly in pain, for motion--or emotion--of any sortwas not in Pompey's line. Mrs. Clive would have grasped the subterfugeif she had been left alone, but her perfidious niece came to thegentleman's aid. She began to stroke and caress the faithful beast.
"Poor Pompey! Poor 'ickle Pompey, then! I hope he has not broken anybones. Do you think it is his ribs?"
Miss Truscott's back was turned to Mrs. Clive. If the aunt had seenthe way in which her niece glanced under her long eyelashes at thegentleman in front of her she would have seized the animal and marchedaway.
"I scarcely think it is his ribs."
It was not probable, considering how they were swathed in fat.
"Perhaps it is his leg."
"I hope that it is not."
Mr. Summers threw such a tone of doubt into this expression of hishopes that Mrs. Clive's heart gave quite a jump. Her Pompey's leg!Broken! And by her! But she was not by any means going to give in yet.There was the bearded gentleman holding the wheezing quadruped asthough it were the most precious thing on earth, and there was herniece very close in front of him. All her sense of moral rectitude wasup in arms.
"Lily! I am surprised at you!"
"Surprised at me, aunty! Why? Because you have broken Pompey's leg? Ididn't do it, it was you. Supposing he should die? You know what adelicate constitution he always had."
"It is quite possible the injury is less serious than we suppose";this the gentleman suggested in a consoling kind of way,"though"--here some one gave the dog a pinch, and the dog gaveexpression to his feelings in a howl--"though decidedly he seems inpain. I think that I had better go on with him straight to the house."
"Lily! I insist upon your coming here."
Miss Truscott did as she was told. With meek face and downcast eyesshe fell in decorously by the old lady's side. Mr. Summers, ignoredand snubbed, but still triumphant, bore Pompey away in front.
"Lily, what is the meaning of all this?"
"I think you must have let Pompey fall, and then have kicked him whenhe fell. I cannot see how you can have done it; you are so careful asa rule."
"I am not speaking about the dog; you know that very well. I amspeaking of the--the extraordinary scene I interrupted."
"Willy was telling me that he loved me."
"Willy was telling you what! And who is Willy, pray?"
"Willy is Mr. Summers's Christian name."
"Lily, are you stark, raving mad? Have you forgotten what happenedyesterday? Are you aware that it is not four-and-twenty hours sinceyou promised Mr. Frederic Ely to be his wife?"
"Yes, auntie; but I have changed my mind."
"You have--what?"
"I have changed my mind."
Mrs. Clive was so overcome that she sank down on a grassy bank whichthey were passing. It was a thing she had not done for years. She wasalways under the impression that the grass was damp--even when itburned you as you touched it with the palm of your hand.
"Lily, either you are mad or I must be. Changed your mind! Do youthink that in such a matter it is possible for a woman to change hermind?"
"It would seem to be, wouldn't it? Especially when you look at me."
"You treat it as a jest! The most astounding behaviour I ever heardof! I don't wish to forget myself if you have done so; I simply callit the most astounding behaviour I ever heard of! A niece of mine!"
"Perhaps that's it. I--I have such a remarkable aunt."
The temptation was irresistible, but the effect was serious. For somemoments Mrs. Clive sat speechless with indignation. Then she rose fromthe mossy bank and walked away without a word. Left behind, MissTruscott covered her face with her hands and laughed--a littleguiltily, it seemed. Then she went after. So the march to the houseresolved itself into a procession of three.
The Woman with One Hand, and Mr. Ely's Engagement Page 18