A Plucky Girl

by L. T. Meade

  CHAPTER XXX

  THE DUCHESS HAS HER SAY

  I shall never forget as long as I live that sultry 1st of August;there seemed to be scarcely a breath of air anywhere, all the air ofLondon had that used-up feeling which those who live in it all theyear round know so well. It was hot weather, hot in the house, hot inthe outside streets, hot in the burnt-up parks, hot everywhere. Thesky seemed to radiate heat, and the earth seemed to embrace it; and wepoor human beings who were subjected to it scarcely knew what to dowith ourselves.

  Even in Jasmine's luxurious house, where all the appliances of comfortwere abundantly in evidence, even there we gasped and thought of thecountry with a longing equal to that of thirsty people for water.

  Jasmine and her husband were going away the next day, and the Duchesswas going away too, and I was to join the Fannings on the 4th. I wasto have three more days in Jasmine's house, and then I was to go, Iknew well never to return. I had not seen Jim after that night, nearlya fortnight ago, when I had told him everything, and from that hour tonow nothing at all had occurred to deliver me from my bondage andmisery. Mrs. Fanning had come twice to see me; she was very bustlingand self-important, and told me honestly that she had a downrighthatred for that airified madam her ladyship. She said that we'd havean excellent time in Switzerland, going to the very best hotels,enjoying ourselves everywhere.

  "And you two young engaged creatures will have no end of opportunitiesfor flirtation," she said; "I won't be much in the way. You may bequite sure that the old mother will efface herself in order to giveher son and her dear new daughter every possible opportunity forenjoying life. Ah! my dear, there is no time like the engagedperiod--the man makes such a fuss about you then. He don't afterwards,dear; I may as well be frank, but he don't--the best of 'em even takeyou as if you were common clay; but beforehand you're something of anangel, and they treat you according. It's the way of all men, dear, itis the way of every single one of 'em. Now Albert, for instance, Ideclare at times I scarcely know him. He used to be a matter-of-factsort of body, but he is changed in all sorts of ways; and as to theway he speaks of you, you'd think you weren't common clay at all, thatyour feet had never yet touched the earth. He drives me past patiencealmost at times; but I say to myself, 'Thank goodness, it won't last.'That's my one consolation, for I cannot bear those high-falutin'ideas, although there's nothing Albert does that seems really wrong tome. He said to me only yesterday, 'Mother, I have a kind of awe overme when I am with her; she is not like any one else, she is so dainty,and so----' I declare I almost laughed in his face; but there, Ididn't, and doubtless he has told you those sort of things himself. Idon't want to see you blush. Not that you do blush, Westenra; I mustsay you take things pretty cool. I suppose it is breeding. They say ittakes a power of good breeding to get that calm which it strikes meyou have to perfection. I never saw any one else with it except thatMr. Randolph, who, I hear, wasn't drowned at all, but came back assafe as ever a few days ago. Well, well, I'm off now. You wouldn'tlike to come back to the Metropole to me and Albert the day herladyship goes, would you, child? Say out frankly if you have a wishthat way."

  "No," I answered, "I have not a wish that way. I will meet you atVictoria Station. I would rather stay here until then."

  "Well, well, good-bye, my dearie," said the stout old woman, and sheembraced me with her voluminous arms, and patted me on my cheek.

  But although she came, as I said, twice, Albert did not come at all,and I thought it extremely nice of him. New proofs of his kindnesswere meeting me at every turn. He wrote to me several times, and ineach letter said that he knew perfectly well that I meant to be freeuntil the year was up, and that he was not going to worry me withovermuch love-making, or any nonsense of that sort; but he thought Iwould like Switzerland, and the change would do me good, and althoughhe would not say much, and would not even ask me to go out walkingwith him unless I wished it, yet I was to be certain of one thing,that he was ready to lay down his life for me, and that I was the onethought of his heart, the one treasure of his soul.

  "Poor Albert!" I had almost said, "Poor dear Albert!" when I read thatlast letter. How much he had developed since the days when we firstmet. It is wonderful what a power love has, how it ennobles andpurifies and sanctifies, and raises, and Albert's love was veryunselfish--how utterly unselfish, I was to know before long.

  But the days went on, and each day seemed a little harder than thelast, until I became quite anxious for the complete break to takeplace when I should have parted with my old friends and my old lifefor ever. But I knew quite well that even if I did go away, the imageof the man I really loved would remain in my heart. As this was likelyto be a sin by-and-by--for surely I ought not to marry one man andlove another--I must try to fight against all thoughts of Jim, and tobanish the one who would not be banished from my thoughts.

  I have said that the 1st of August came in with tremendous heat; everywindow in the house was open, the blinds were all down. Jasmine wasquite fretful and irritable. She pined for Scotland; she said that shecould scarcely contain herself until she got away.

  She and her husband were to go early the next day to the North, andall arrangements were being made, and the final packing was beingcompleted.

  The Duchess also was kept in town owing to some special duties, but onthe next day she was also to go.

  She had asked me two or three times to visit her, but I had written toher begging of her not to press it.

  "I must go through with what I have promised," I said, "and to see youonly pains me. Do forgive me. Perhaps you will see me once when Ireturn from Switzerland just to say good-bye."

  The Duchess had taken no notice of this letter, and I concluded sadlythat I was never to see her or hear of her again; but as I was sittingby myself in Jasmine's inner drawing-room on that same 1st of August,about twelve o'clock in the morning, I was startled when the door wasthrown open, and the dear Duchess came in. She came up to me, put herarms round me, drew me to her breast, and kissed me several times. Shehad not, after all, more motherly arms than Mrs. Fanning, but she hada different way about her, and before I knew what I was doing, thefeel of those arms, and the warm, consoling touch of her sympathy,caused me to burst out crying. Mrs. Fanning would not have thoughtmuch of the calm which in her opinion seems to accompany good breedinghad she seen me at that moment. But the Duchess knew exactly what todo. She did not speak until I was quieter, and then she made me lie onthe sofa, and took my hand and patted it.

  "I am thinking of you, Westenra, almost all day long," she saidsolemnly. "I am terribly concerned about you. Have you got aphotograph of that man anywhere near?"

  "I have not got one," I replied.

  "He never sent you his photograph? I thought they always did."

  "He would have liked to. He is very patient, and he is very fond ofme, you need not be anxious about me, it is just----"

  "But it is the giving of you up, child, that is so painful, and thewant of necessity of the whole thing. Sometimes I declare I am soimpatient with----"

  But what the Duchess meant to say was never finished, for thedrawing-room door was opened once more and the footman announced Mr.Fanning.

  Albert Fanning entered in his usual, half assured, half nervous style.He had a way of walking on his toes, so that his tall figure seemed toundulate up and down as he approached you. He carried his hat in hishand, and his hair was as upright as usual, his face white, his blueeyes hungry. He was so anxious to see me, and this visit meant so muchto him, that he did not even notice the Duchess. He came straight upto me, and when he saw that my cheeks were pale and my eyes red fromrecent crying, he was so concerned that he stooped, and before I couldprevent him gave me the lightest and softest of kisses on my cheek.

  "I could not keep away," he said, "and I--I have a message from themater. Can you listen?"

  I was sitting up, my face was crimson, with an involuntary movement Ihad tried to brush away that offending kiss. He saw me do it, and hisface went whiter than ever.r />
  "Introduce me, Westenra," said the voice of the Duchess.

  In my emotion at seeing Albert Fanning, I had forgotten her, but now Istood up and made the necessary introduction. Her Grace of Wilmot gavea distant bow, which Mr. Fanning gravely and with no trace ofawkwardness returned.

  "Won't you sit down?" said the Duchess then; "do you know I have beenmost anxious to see you?"

  "Indeed," he replied. He looked amazed and a little incredulous. Hekept glancing from the Duchess to me. I do not know why, but Isuddenly began to feel intensely nervous. There was a gleam in my oldfriend's soft brown eyes which I had only seen there at moments ofintense emotion. She evidently was making up her mind to say somethingterrible. I exclaimed hastily--

  "Albert, if you wish to speak to me, will you come into the next room.You will excuse us for a moment will you not, Duchess?"

  "No, Westenra," she replied, and she rose now herself; "I will notexcuse you. You must stay here, and so must Mr. Fanning, for I havegot something I wish particularly to say to Mr. Fanning."

  "Oh, what?" I cried. "Oh, you will not"--she held up her hand to stopmy torrent of words.

  "The opportunity has come which I have desired," she said, "and I amnot going to neglect it. It need make no difference to either of you,but at least you, Mr. Fanning, will not marry my dear girl withoutknowing how things really are."

  "Oh, please don't speak of it, I implore you, you don't know whatterrible mischief you will do."

  "Hold your tongue, Westenra. Mr. Fanning, this young girl is very dearto me, I have known her since her birth; I stood sponsor for her whenshe was a baby. I take shame to myself for having to a certain extentneglected her, and also her mother, my most dear friend, during thefew months they lived in 17 Graham Square. I take shame to myself, forhad I done all that I might have done for those whom I sincerelyloved, the calamity which came about need never have occurred."

  "As to that," said Albert Fanning, speaking for the first time, and inquite his usual assured voice, "it could not help occurring, yourGrace, for the simple fact that the boarding-house never could havepaid, the expenses were greater than the incomings. If you have everstudied political economy, your Grace will know for yourself that whenyou spend more than you receive it spells RUIN."

  The Duchess stopped speaking when Albert Fanning began, and looked athim with considerable astonishment.

  "Then you knew from the first that the extraordinary scheme of myyoung friend could not succeed."

  "I did," he replied, "and I bided my time. I suppose you mean to saysomething disagreeable to me; you do not think I am in the runningwith her at all, but as far as that goes I have money, and she has notany, and I love her as I suppose woman never was loved before, and Iwill make her happy in my own fashion. And I'll never intrude on hergrand friends, so that her grand friends can come to see her as oftenas they like; and as to my mother, she is a right-down good sort,though she wasn't born in the purple like yourself, your Grace; so, asfar as I am concerned, I do not know what you have to say to me. Isuppose you want to tell me that Westenra here, my pretty little girl,who is going to give herself to me on the 1st of June next year, doesnot care for me, but she will care for me by-and-by, for my feeling isthat love like mine must be returned in the long run, and if after ayear she don't tell your Grace that she is the happiest little wife inthe length and breadth of England, I shall be greatly surprised."

  Here Albert Fanning slapped his thigh in his excitement, and thenstood bolt upright before the Duchess, who in absolute astonishmentstared back at him.

  "That is not the point," she said. "You do not want to marry a girlwho not only does not love you, but who does, with all her heart andsoul, love some one else?"

  "Why, of course not," he replied, and a frightened look came for thefirst time into his blue eyes. He turned and faced me.

  "Of course not," he repeated, his eyes still devouring mine; "butWestenra cares for nobody, I never saw a girl less of a flirt in thewhole course of my life. It is not to be supposed that such a verypretty girl should not have men fall in love with her, but that isneither here nor there."

  "You ask her yourself," said the Duchess; "I think from your face thatyou seem a very honest good sort of man; you are a publisher, are younot?"

  "Yes, Madam, I publish books, bright, entertaining books too."

  "I repeat that you seem a very honest upright sort of man, whosincerely loves my young friend, and honestly wishes to do his bestfor her, but I think you will find that there is more behind thescenes than you are aware of, and, in short, that Westenra ought totell you the truth. Tell him the truth now, Westenra."

  "Yes, tell me now, Westenra," he said; "tell me the truth;" and hefaced me once more, and I forced myself to look into his eyes.

  "I know you don't love me just yet," he continued, "but it will comesome day."

  "I will do my very best to love you," I answered; "I will try to be agood wife to you, Albert."

  "Ay, ay--how sweetly you say those words. May I hold your hand?"

  I gave him my hand--he held it as he always did hold it, as if it weresomething very precious and sacred, letting it lie in his palm, andlooking down at it as if it were a sort of white wonder to him.

  "But ask her the question," said her Grace, and then I glanced at theDuchess and saw that her cheeks were pink with excitement, and hereyes shining; "ask her that straight, straight question on which allyour happiness depends, Mr. Fanning."

  "I will, your Grace. You do not love me, Westenra, but you will try tobe a good wife to me, and you will try to love me, that is, in thefuture. There is no one else whom you love now, is there? I know, ofcourse, what your reply will be, darling, and it is a hard question toask of you, as though I doubted you. There is no one, is there,Westenra? Speak, little girl, don't be afraid, there is no one?"

  "But there is," I faltered. I covered my face for a moment, then Ichecked back my tears and looked at him as steadily as he had lookedat me.

  "There is another," he repeated, "and you--you love him? Who is he?"

  "I won't tell you his name. I shall get over it. I could not helpmyself--I promised to marry you, but I never said that I could loveyou, for I don't--not now at least, and there is another, but I willnever see him again. It won't make any difference to you, Albert."

  "Yes, but it will," he said, "all the difference on earth." He droppedmy hand as though it hurt him. He turned and faced the Duchess.

  "I suppose you are talking of Mr. Randolph. I quite understand, hebelongs to the set in which she was born, but he deserted her when shewanted him most. It can scarcely be that she cares for him. There, Idon't want either of you to tell me his name just now. I have heardenough for the present."

  He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.