by Elinor Glyn
XXIV
Theodora was greatly interested in Beechleigh. To her the home of herfathers was full of sentiment, and the thought that her grandfather hadruled there pleased her. How she would love and cherish it were it herhome now! Every one of these fine things must have some memory.
Then the pictures of as far back as she could remember came to her, andshe saw again their poor lodgings in the cheap foreign towns and theiroften scanty fare. And with a fresh burst of love and pride in him, sheremembered her father's invariable cheerfulness--cheerfulness andgayety--in such poverty! And after he had been used to--this! For allthe descriptions of Captain Fitzgerald had given her no idea of thereality.
Now she knew what love meant, and could realize her mother's story. Oh,she would have acted just in the same way, too.
Dominic had been forgiven by his brother after his first wife's death,and had come back to enjoy a short spell of peace and prosperity. Andwho could wonder that Lady Minnie Borringdon, in her first season, andfull of romance, should fall headlong in love with his wonderfullyhandsome face, and be only too ready to run off with him from an angryand unreasonable parent! She was a spoiled and only child who had neverbeen crossed. Then came that fatal Derby, and the final extinction ofall sympathy with the scapegrace. The Fitzgeralds had done enough forhim already, and Lord Borringdon had no intention of doing anything atall, so the married lovers crept away in high disgrace, and spent a fewmonths of bliss in a southern town, where the sun shone and the food wascheap, and there poor, pretty Minnie died, leaving Theodora a few hoursold.
And now at Beechleigh Theodora looked out of her window on the northside--the southern rooms were kept for greater than she--and from thereshe could see a vast stretch of park, with the deer cropping the fineturf, and the lions frowning while they supported the ducal coronet overthe great gates at the end of the court-yard and colonnade.
It was truly a splendid inheritance, and she glowed with pride to thinkshe was of this house.
So she wrote a long letter to her dear ones--her sisters at Dieppe, andpapa, still in Paris, and even one to Mrs. McBride. And then she readuntil her maid came to dress her for dinner.
Her room was a large one, and numberless modern touches of comfortbrought up-to-date the early Georgian furniture and the shabby silkhangings. A room stamped with that something which the most luxuriousapartments of the wealthiest millionaire can never acquire.
Josiah looked in upon her as she finished dressing. He was, he said,most pleased with everything, and if they were a little unused to suchcompany, still nothing could be more cordial than Sir Patrick'streatment of him.
Meanwhile, on their way up to dress, Mildred had gone in to Morella'sroom, and the two had agreed that Mrs. Brown should be suppressed.
It was with extra displeasure Miss Winmarleigh had learned of Theodora'srelationship to Sir Patrick, and that after all she could not be calleda common colonial.
There was no question about the Fitzgerald and Borringdon families,unfortunately, while Morella's grandfather had been merely a coalmerchant.
"I don't think she is so wonderfully pretty, do you, Mildred?" shesaid.
But Mildred was a clever woman, and could see with her eyes.
"Yes, I do," she answered. "Don't be such a fool as to delude yourselfabout that, Morella. She is perfectly lovely, and she has the mostdeevie Paris clothes, and Lord Bracondale is wildly in love with her."
"And apparently Freddy Wensleydown, too," snapped Morella, who was nowboiling with rage.
"Well, she is not likely to enjoy herself here," said Mildred, with hervicious laugh, which showed all her splendid, sharp teeth, as she wentoff to dress, her head full of plans for the interloper's suppression.
First she must have a few words with Barbara. There must be none of herpartisanship. Poor, timid Barbara would not dare to disobey her, sheknew. That settled, she did not fear that she would be able to makeTheodora suffer considerably during the five days she would be atBeechleigh.
Sir Patrick was busy with some new arrivals who had come while they weredressing, so not a soul spoke to Theodora or Josiah when they got downto the great, white drawing-room, from which immensely high mahoganydoors opened into an anteroom hung with priceless tapestry andcontaining cabinets of rare china. From thence another set of splendidcarved doors gave access to the dining-room.
Neither Lord Wensleydown or Hector was in the room at first, so therewas no man even to talk to them. Lady Ada had not introduced them to anyone. And there they stood: Josiah ill at ease and uncomfortable, andTheodora quite apparently unconscious of neglect, while she looked at apicture.
All the younger women were thinking to themselves: "Who are thesepeople? We don't want any strangers here--poaching on our preserves. Andwhat perfect clothes! and what pearls! Why on earth did Ada ask them?"
And soon the party was complete, and Theodora found herself going in todinner with her cousin Pat, who arrived upon the scene at the very lastminute, having come from Oxford by a late train.
Mildred had taken care that neither Lord Wensleydown or Hector should beanywhere near Theodora. She had secured Lord Bracondale for herself, anddid her best all through the repast to fascinate him.
And while he answered gallantly and paid her the grossest compliments,she knew he was laughing in his sleeve all the time, and it made hervenom rise higher and higher.
Patrick Fitzgerald, the younger, was a dissipated, vicious youth, withhis mother's faded coloring and none of the Fitzgerald charm. Howinfinitely her father surpassed any of the family she had seen yet,Theodora thought.
She did not enjoy her dinner. The youth's conversation was notinteresting. But it was not until the ladies left the dining-room thather real penance began.
It seemed as if all the women crowded to one end of the drawing-roomround Lady Harrowfield, and talked and whispered to one another, not onemaking way for Theodora or showing any knowledge of her presence.Barbara had gone off up to her room. She was too frightened of Mildredto disobey her, and she felt she would rather not be there to see theirhateful ways to the dear, little, gentle cousin whom she thought shecould love so much.
Theodora subsided on a sofa, wondering to herself if these were themanners of the great world in general. She hoped not; but although nohuman creature could be quite happy under the circumstances, she was notgreatly distressed until she distinctly caught the name of "Mr. Brown"from the woman Josiah had taken in amid a burst of laughter, and sawMildred, with a glance at her, ostentatiously suppress the speaker, whothen continued her narration in almost a whisper, amid mocking tittersof mirth.
Then anger burned in Theodora's gentle soul. They were talking aboutJosiah, of course, and turning him into ridicule.
She wondered, what would be the best to do. She was too far away toattempt to join in the conversation, or to be even able to swear she hadheard aright, although there was no doubt in her own mind about it.
So she sat perfectly still on her great sofa, her hands folded in herlap, while two bright spots of wild rose flushed her cheeks.
She did not even pick up a book. There she sat like an alabaster statue,and most of the women were conscious of the exquisitely beautifulpicture she made.
They could not stand in this packed group all the time, the whole dozenor more of them, and they gradually broke up into twos and threes aboutthe large room.
They were delightfully friendly with one another, and all seemed in thebest of spirits and tempers.
Most of them had no ulterior motive in their behavior to Theodora; itwas merely the feeling that they were not the hostess and responsible.It was none of their business if Ada neglected her guests, and they allknew plenty of people and did not care to enlarge their acquaintancegratuitously.
So when they came in from the dining-room more than one of the menunderstood the picture they saw, of the beautiful, little, strange ladyseated alone, while the other women chatted together in groups.
Hector was feeling irritated and excited,
and longing to get nearTheodora. He guessed Lord Wensleydown would have the same desire, andhad no intention of being interfered with. He felt he could not bear tospend an evening watching the little brute daring to lean over her. Heshould kill him, or commit some violence, he knew.
Thus prudence, which at another time would have held him--would havemade him remember what was best for her among this crowd of hostilewomen--flew to the winds. He must go to her--must show her he loved andwould protect her, and, above all, that he would permit no other man tousurp his place.
And Theodora, who had been suffering silently a miserable feeling ofloneliness and neglect, felt her heart bound with joy at the sight ofhis loved, familiar face, and she welcomed him more warmly than she hadever done before.
"Have these demons of women been odious to you, darling?" he whispered,hardly conscious of the term of endearment he had used. "Do not mindthem; it is only jealousy because you are so beautiful and young."
"They have not been anything at all," she said, softly; "they have justleft me alone and kept to themselves, and--and laughed at Josiah, andthat has made me very angry, because--what has he done to them?"
"I loathe them all!" said Hector. "They are hardly fit to be in the sameroom with you, dear queen--and if you really belonged to me I would takeyou away from them now--to-night."
His voice was a caress, and that sentence, "belonged to me," always madeher heart beat with its pictured possibilities. Oh, how she loved him!Could anything else in the world really matter while he could sit thereand she could feel his presence and hear his tender words?
And so they talked awhile, and then they looked up and surveyed thescene. Josiah had been joined by Sir Patrick, and they were earnestlyconversing by the fireplace. One or two pairs sat about on the sofas;but the general company showed signs of flocking off to thebridge-tables, which were laid out in another drawing-room beyond. Andthe couples joined them gradually, until only Lord Wensleydown andMorella Winmarleigh remained near and watched them with mocking eyes.
Hector had never before realized that Morella could have so muchexpression in her face.
How could he ever have thought under any conceivable circumstances, evenat the end of his life, it would be possible to marry her! How thankfulhe felt he had never paid her any attention, or from his behavior givencolor to his mother's hopes.
He remembered a fairy story he had read in his youth, where a magicpower was given to the hero of discovering what beast each human beingwas growing into by grasping their hands. And he wondered, if the gifthad been his, what he should now find was the destiny of those two infront of him!
Wensleydown, no doubt, would be a great, sensual goat and Morella avicious mule. And the idea made him laugh as he turned to Theodoraagain, to feast his eyes on her pure loveliness.
The Crow, who had arrived late and been among the last to enter thedrawing-room before dinner, had not yet had an opportunity of speakingto Mrs. Brown, as he had been dragged off among the first of thebridge-players.
Presently Mildred looked through the door from the room beyond andcalled: "Freddy and Morella, come and play; we must have two more tomake up the numbers. Uncle Patrick will bring Lord Bracondalepresently."
Josiah and Theodora did not count at all, it seemed!
"What intolerable insolence!" said Hector, through his teeth. "I shallnot play bridge or stir from here."
And Lord Wensleydown called back: "Do give one a moment to digest one'sdinner, dear Lady Mildred. Miss Winmarleigh does not want to come yet,either. We are very--interested--and happy here."
Morella tittered and played with her fan. The dull, slow rage wassimmering within her. Even her vanity could not misinterpret the meaningof Hector's devotion to Mrs. Brown. He was deeply in love, of course,and she, Morella, was robbed of her hopes of being Lady Bracondale. Herusually phlegmatic nature was roused in all its narrow strength. She waslike some silent, vengeful beast waiting a chance to spring.
And so the evening wore away. Sir Patrick drew Josiah into thebridge-room, and made him join one of the tables where they were waitingfor a fourth--Josiah, who was a very bad player, and did not really carefor cards! But luck favored him, and the woman opposite restrained theirritable things she had ready to say to him when she first perceivedhow he played his hand.
And all the while Hector sat by Theodora, and learned more and more ofher fair, clear mind. All the thoughts she had upon every subject hefound were just and quaint and in some way illuminating. It was hernatural sweetness of nature which made the great charm--that qualitywhich Mrs. McBride had remarked upon, and which every one felt sooner orlater.
Nothing of the ascetic saint or goody _poseuse_. She did not walk aboutwith a book of poems under her arm, and wear floppy clothes and talkabout her own and other people's souls. She was just human and true andattractive.
Theodora had perhaps no religion at all from the orthodox point of view;but had she been a Mohommedan or a Confucian or a Buddhist, she wouldstill have been Theodora, full of gentleness and goodness and grace.
The entire absence of vanity and self-consciousness in her prevented herfrom feeling hurt or ruffled even with these ill-mannered women. Shethought them rude and unpleasant, but they could not really hurt herexcept by humiliating Josiah. Her generosity instantly fired at that.
Both she and Hector perceived that Morella and Lord Wensleydown satthere watching them for no other reason but to disconcert and teasethem, and it roused a spirit of resistance in both. While this was goingon they would not move.
And Hector employed the whole of his self-control to keep himself frommaking actual love to her, and they talked of many things, and sheunderstood and was grateful.
Presently, apparently, Morella could stand it no longer, for she roserather abruptly and said to Lord Wensleydown:
"Come, let us play bridge."
They went on into the other room, and Theodora and Lord Bracondale wereleft quite alone.
"I should like to find Josiah," said Theodora. "Shall we not go, too?"
And they also followed upon the others' heels. Lady Ada happened to beout at her table, and some tardy sense of her duties as a hostess cameto her, for she crossed over to where Theodora stood by the door andmade some ordinary remark about hoping it would be fine on the morrow sothey could enjoy the gardens.
And while she talked and looked into the blue eyes something attractedand softened her. She was very gentle and pretty, after all, the newniece, she decided, and Mildred had been quite wrong in saying she wasan upstart and must be snubbed.
Lady Ada had a nervous way of blinking her light lashes in a fashionwhich suggested she might suffer from headache.
To Theodora she seemed a sad woman, full of cares, and she felt a kindlypity for her and no resentment for her rudeness.
Mildred looked up, and a frown of annoyance darkened her face.
The "creature" should certainly not make a conquest of her hostess ifshe could help it!
It was the first time Theodora had ever been into a company of peoplelike this, and her eyes wandered over the scene when Lady Ada had to goback to her place.
"Tell me what you are thinking of?" said Hector, in her ear.
"I was thinking," she answered, "it is so interesting to watch people'sfaces. It seems to me so queer a way to spend one's time, the whole ofone's intelligence set upon a game of cards and a few pieces of moneyfor hours and hours together."
"They don't look attractive, do they?" he laughed.
"No, they look haggard, and worried, and old," she said. "Even the youngones look old and watchful, and so intent and solemn."
Lady Harrowfield had been losing heavily, and a deep mauve shade glowedthrough all her paint. She was a bad loser, and made all at her tablefeel some of her chagrin and wrath. In fact, candidates for the light ofher smile found it advisable to let her win when things became toounpleasant.
There was a dreary silence over the room, broken by the scoring andremarks upon the games, and those
who were out wandered into the saloonbeyond, where iced drinks of all sorts were awaiting the weary.
"Every one must enjoy themselves how they can, of course," saidTheodora. "It is absurd to try and make any one else happy in one's ownway, but oh, I hope I shall not have to pass the time like that, ever! Idon't think I could bear it."
The voices became raised at the table where Josiah sat. He had made somegross mistake in the game and his partner was being fretful over it. Hercomplaints amounted to real rudeness when the counting began. She hadlost twenty pounds on this rubber, all through his last foolish play,she let it be known.
Josiah was angry with himself and deeply humiliated. He apologized aswell as he could, but to no purpose with the wrathful dame.
And Theodora slipped behind his chair, and laid her hand upon hisshoulder in what was almost a caress, and said, in a sweet and playfulvoice:
"You are a naughty, stupid fellow, Josiah, and of course you must paythe losses of both sides to make up for being such a wicked thing," andshe patted his shoulders and smiled her gentle smile at the angry lady,as though they were children playing for counters or sweets, and thetwenty pounds was a nothing to her husband, as indeed it was not.Josiah would cheerfully have paid a hundred to finish the unpleasantscene.
He was intensely grateful to her--grateful for her thought for him andfor her public caress.
And the lady was so surprised at the turn affairs had taken that shesaid no more, and, allowing him to pay without too great protest, meeklysuggested another rubber. But Josiah was not to be caught again. Herose, and, saying good-night, followed his wife and Lord Bracondale intothe saloon.