The Toast of the Town

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  ‘An offer — accept?’ squeaked Susan, in delight, seizing her sister-in-law’s arm excitedly. ‘Georgy, my love — who? Who is it? Tell me at once!’

  ‘You’d best not get too excited, Sue, in your state of health,’ Georgy warned her. ‘It’s Pam. He asked me to marry him, the day he returned to Town.’

  ‘Oh, but you’ll have him!’ declared Susan. ‘Pam! No one could be more suitable — there could be no man I’d rather see you marry!’

  ‘So everyone says,’ agreed Georgy, doubtfully.

  ‘But you’re not sure? And that is what worries you so?’

  Georgy nodded. ‘I came here to think it out. At least, I was coming anyway, because I’d promised you; and it seemed a good opportunity. I asked Pam not to follow me here, and I’m to give him my answer when I return to Town.’

  ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.’ ‘Oh, fond!’ scoffed Georgy. ‘Yes, I am fond enough of Pam, Sue — but is that sufficient? Is it a sure foundation for marriage?’

  ‘Many have less,’ Susan reminded her. ‘Had your father seen fit to arrange a match for you as others have done before now, you might have found yourself tied to someone you could barely tolerate.’

  ‘But such is not the case. Papa would never force me into a marriage, whatever fathers of other unlucky females may do. His thought is all for my happiness, and I know he will allow me to choose for myself — be it who it may. All I need to consider is what I want.’ ‘You always could twist your father around your little finger,’ said Susan, with a smile. ‘And no doubt if you accept Pam — which I hope you will — you’ll bring him into the same happy state of subjection, too. Sometimes I wonder if you do not need a man who will be your master, instead…’

  She broke off, frowning thoughtfully.

  ‘Oh, well, don’t let’s worry about me,’ said Georgy, hurriedly. ‘Susan, you aren’t walking too far, are you? Perhaps we’d better return to the house now.’

  ‘No, I’m all right, though I think we will turn towards the house, as I expect the doctor to pay me a visit some time this morning.’

  ‘I thought you said he called yesterday,’ replied Georgy, trying to keep her voice casual.

  ‘So he did. But he said then that my baby might arrive sooner than we had expected, so he would call every day just in case.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me that,’ Georgy accused.

  ‘I did, my dear, but you were not attending. Indeed, I am surprised that you are even able to recall my mentioning his visit.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Sue! Forgive me, but you know the reason. I imagine, tho’,’ she added, gazing intently at the ground, ‘you will be anxious to see Dr. Hume’s return to the village.’

  Susan stopped abruptly, and stared. ‘Now I know your wits have been wool-gathering!’ she declared. ‘Dr. Hume has returned, and came to see me yesterday. I told you that, along with the rest.’

  Georgy looked up quickly. ‘He has? Then I suppose ‘ she hesitated, and a slight flush coloured her cheeks — ‘I expect — most likely his nephew has already gone back to London?’

  They had both halted now and stood facing each other. As Susan studied the flushed, unhappy face before her, she came to an almost incredible conclusion.

  ‘Dr. Graham leaves his uncle’s house tomorrow,’ she answered, quietly. ‘He came with Dr. Hume yesterday to pay his respects and take leave of us all, but you were out riding at the time.’

  ‘Then I shan’t see him again.’ The words came out slowly, as though travelling a long distance. ‘Perhaps it is best. We always,’ she added in a brisker tone, with an attempt at liveliness, ‘quarrel whenever we meet. Come along, Sue! We’ve been out here quite long enough, I am sure, and talking so seriously, too. It’s enough to give you the vapours!’

  She drew Susan’s arm through hers, and steered her purposefully towards the house, keeping up a laughing flow of trivialities until they had crossed the threshold.

  But Susan was not deceived: Having penetrated Georgy’s guard during that revealing moment in the garden, she could now understand the moody silences which had afflicted the other girl ever since her return. She wondered if Georgy really understood herself.

  Whether she did or not, the decision she was trying to reach would prove just as difficult and painful in the making. Susan wanted desperately to help, but could see no way of doing so. Perhaps it was better to leave matters as they stood, and hope that Georgy would decide to marry Pam. Pam would take care of her. It was easy to see that he adored Georgy. So much adoration could scarcely fail to draw forth an answering love. She kept revolving variations of these comforting thoughts in her mind for the rest of the morning. Dr. Hume came and went, repeating that she might expect to be confined any day now, and Hugh looked into her boudoir to find her sitting lost in thought.

  ‘What, you, too, my dearest?’ he teased her, gently. ‘Isn’t it enough for my sister to sit brooding around the house, without passing the habit on to my wife.’

  He dropped a kiss on her brow, and demanded the latest medical report. Susan told him, and for a while they sat side by side and hand in hand, talking quietly of domestic affairs. Presently Susan changed the subject abruptly.

  ‘Hugh, dearest, do you really think Georgy should marry Pam?’

  ‘How you do dot about, my love — just like a butterfly,’ he replied, smiling at her. ‘Why, yes — Pam. Certainly. An excellent match. Why? Have you any doubts? You need not concern yourself, though — Georgy will do exactly what she pleases in the matter of marriage.’

  ‘But you think he would be the best person for her?’ insisted Susan.

  ‘No, I didn’t say that. I think the best person for her would be a husband who would beat her regularly, and make her pay some heed to him. But there’s no likelihood of her finding anyone of the kind, and so Pam will do very well. A good chap, Pam.’

  ‘Since she returned to us she’s been trying to decide whether to have him or not. She’s to give him her answer when she goes back to London.’

  ‘So that’s why she’s been walking around with a Friday face!’ said Hugh, with a laugh. ‘It seems my sister values her freedom more jealously than most men I know.’

  ‘I don’t think,’ said Susan, slowly, ‘that it’s altogether the thought of sacrificing her freedom.’

  ‘What else should hinder her?’

  ‘I don’t believe, Hugh, that she is in love with Pam.’

  He shrugged. ‘I sometimes wonder if Georgy will ever be in love with anyone. She is still a regular tomboy at bottom, you know.’

  ‘Yes, dearest. But you are wrong — I’m sure you’re wrong, at least — when you say she can never be in love with anyone. It’s my belief that she has fallen in love, and that’s why she can’t bring herself to accept Pam’s proposal.’

  He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You know her better than most,’ he said, at last. ‘Who is the man? Do you know that?’

  ‘I am only hazarding a guess,’ replied Susan, doubtfully. ‘She has not confided in me.’

  He put his arm round her, and smiled encouragingly down into her eyes. ‘Womanly intuition, eh? Come, let me hear it, my love.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Susan, more confidently. ‘I think she’s in love with George’s friend, Dr. Graham.’

  ‘The devil you do!’

  ‘Is it so very bad?’ asked Susan. ‘Wouldn’t it do?’ He was silent for a moment. ‘You must see there are certain difficulties,’ he said, at last.

  She nodded. ‘I know. It would be an unequal match. But dear, you can’t have forgotten that once you, too, contemplated marrying beneath you.’

  He raised her hand to his lips. ‘There is a certain difference,’ he said. ‘A woman takes her husband’s station in society, whatever that may be, when she marries. But Graham, though he has connections of some standing, has very little himself, at present.’

  ‘But if they truly love each other, Hugh?’ she asked, wistfully.

 
He frowned. ‘We can’t know that. Certainly, I have noticed a marked partiality on his side, and you, who know Georgy better than most, are confident of her feelings. But even so, granted a true affection on both sides, who can say if it would survive an unequal marriage? No, she will be safer with Pam. They may never know the heady delights of love, but at least they will be spared disillusion.’

  ‘Oh, Hugh!’ To his dismay, he saw there were tears in her eyes. ‘Have you found disillusion, then?’

  ‘My heart’s darling,’ he murmured, taking her face gently in his hands, and kissing her lips. ‘You know very well that you have made me the happiest man on earth.’

  ‘Then you won’t deny Georgy her chance of a happiness such as ours, will you?’ she pleaded. ‘If she should in some way learn the truth about her feelings — and if she and Dr. Graham should reach a point when they need someone to plead their cause to your father.’

  ‘You are asking me to intercede for them, if necessary?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, my love, I don’t really suppose that it ever will be necessary. He is a man of honour, and therefore unlikely to press his suit, however strong his feelings may be. He will fully appreciate that he has little to offer at present. And unless he speaks, you know, Georgy must be silent. So.’

  ‘Do you really suppose that Georgy would be silent, if she once knew her heart? No, Hugh, you must know her better than that!’

  ‘Hm.’ He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Then perhaps it might be better if she never does understand her feelings — that is, if you are not mistaken in your reading of them.’

  ‘I am not mistaken,’ replied Susan, confidently. ‘And she will be bound to discover it sooner or later. Only suppose, Hugh, if it should be after she has wed Pam! That must not happen — she cannot marry one man while she is in love with another — it would ruin all their lives!’

  ‘What do you expect me to do about it, my darling? Tell Graham that he must marry my sister?’ asked Beau Eversley, with gentle mockery.

  She shook her head unhappily. ‘No — for there is a misunderstanding between them.’

  ‘A misunderstanding?’ repeated her husband, dryly. ‘I had no notion of there being any kind of an understanding between them.’

  ‘I do not know the whole,’ replied Susan, hurriedly, ‘but Georgy did tell me that she had played off one of her jokes upon him, and that Dr. Graham was very vexed and — and disgusted with her, and not likely to — to — think well of her ever again.’

  ‘Dear me!’ drawled Beau Eversley. ‘It certainly does sound very much like a lovers’ quarrel. Has he declared himself, then? Did she tell you that?’

  Susan shook her head. ‘No. I really know very little. It is just that I guess a great deal. And, Hugh, dearest’ — she laid her hand on the sleeve of his coat — ‘I would so like to be able to help! After all, Georgy helped me, when I was so unhappy — you remember?’

  ‘I remember, my sweeting. But in general such affairs are best left to the parties concerned. Georgy must make up her own mind — hers is a decided character, so she will not be long about the business.’ He glanced at her face, and saw the doubt that clouded her eyes. ‘Come, love, you mustn’t vex yourself with gloomy thoughts at present! I promise you that if by any chance these two unlikely people should decide to wed, I will plead their cause to my father. There, now! Will that satisfy you?’

  ‘Oh, Hugh, yes! You are so good!’

  She nestled close to him.

  ‘And now you may put the whole thing out of your head,’ he said, stroking her dark hair.

  She nodded; but in the recesses of her mind, a plan was stirring.

  CHAPTER 19

  Susan Takes A Risk

  John Graham was packing. Tomorrow he would leave his uncle’s house for London, to continue his work at St. George’s Hospital until the time came for him to go back to his native Edinburgh. He would not be sorry to leave Buckinghamshire. The medical experience had been useful, of course: a country practice offered a surprising variety of cases, as he had admitted yesterday to his uncle, perhaps to the older man’s amusement. But at present the place affected his spirits much as a coarse bandage might chafe an open wound. Every scene served to remind him of incidents he would rather forget. The calls at Fulmer Towers, culminating in yesterday’s farewell visit, had been particularly trying.

  He had not seen Georgiana Eversley yesterday, although he knew that she had returned from London. Not until the visit was over did he realize how much he had wanted to see her again. There was no sense in that, he told himself angrily. Their parting had been final; nothing more remained to be said. She had tricked him finely for no better reason than her own idle amusement. She deserved every harsh reproach he had hurled at her. It only remained now to forget her.

  What a pity that painful memories could not be cut out from a man’s mind as harmful growths could be removed from his body. But it would not be long, he told himself, before he had mastered this weakness. His Scottish pride demanded it. A man whose ancestors had successfully repelled so many Sassenach raids on their property ought to know how to defend himself, even against a more insidious form of attack from the same source. He smiled grimly as he made the little jest to himself: at least, he had not lost his sense of humour.

  The house seemed very quiet. His aunt and Mrs. Chiltem had gone to the weekly market in Amersham, and Dr. Hume had been called away to a case. Anne was still in London; she was to remain there for a month at least. His thoughts lingered uneasily for a moment on Anne. He was not unaware of the hopes entertained by Dr. and Mrs. Hume. He knew that if he chose to seek his cousin’s hand in marriage, they would raise no obstacle. He was far from being conceited, but he had a strong suspicion that Anne shared their views, a suspicion brought into being by many little incidents during the time they had spent together under the same roof. He could only hope now that his cousin’s feelings for him did not go too deep. He had suffered lately himself, and would not wish that particular form of pain on any human being, least of all on someone for whom he felt a genuine, though brotherly, affection. But she was young, after all, he told himself, and he was practically the first man she had ever known very well. There would be others; perhaps even now in London she was meeting some dashing Beau who would soon make her forget a young Scots doctor with nothing in particular to recommend him, and who was of no account in the world.

  He straightened up from his packing on this thought, and squared his shoulders, a determined look in his dark eyes. Yes, he was of no account in the world — yet. But he would be. There would come a time when his name would be known in his chosen field of work, at any rate. And when that day came, he thought triumphantly, he would be a fitting mate even for such as Georgiana Eversley.

  Damn the woman! There she was again, creeping into his thoughts. Thank goodness he was going back to London tomorrow; it should be easier there to put her out of his mind.

  He heard the sound of a vehicle drawing up outside the house, and thought that it must be the gig returning. He frowned; on second thoughts, it did not sound like the gig. He went over to the window, drew aside the white dimity curtains and peered through the pane. His frown deepened. It was not the gig, but a carriage with the Eversley crest on its panels.

  His heart gave a leap. Could it possibly be … ?

  Someone was being helped from the carriage. Without pausing long enough to see who it might be, he raced from the room and went headlong down the stairs just as the knocker sounded throughout the silent house.

  There was only one servant at present in the house, a little kitchenmaid of tender years, who had been dozing before the kitchen fire. She came dashing out at the summons, straightening her cap as she ran, and almost collided with Graham in the hall.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ he said, dismissively. ‘I believe it’s a visitor for me.’

  She bobbed awkwardly, and returned to her warm seat by the fire.

  Graham flung open the door, a te
ll-tale eagerness lighting his face. The next moment, the glow left his expression.

  It was not Georgiana who stood on the threshold, but Susan Eversley. She turned to give some directions to the groom who had escorted her to the door, thus giving Graham a chance to master his feelings. The groom returned to join the coachman on the box, and the carriage moved off down the village street. When Susan turned towards him, Graham was able to greet her calmly enough, although his tone was puzzled.

  ‘Mrs. Eversley! What can bring you here, ma’am? Pray come inside.’

  He put out a hand to steady her, and, closing the street door, guided her into the parlour. ‘I collect you have come to see my uncle. I am sorry, he is not at home at present, but I expect him back shortly. Won’t you sit down? I think this chair will be comfortable for you, ma’am.’

  He waited until she had settled herself. Then he continued with a shade of reproach: ‘You ought not to have come, you know, Mrs. Eversley, and especially not without your woman in attendance. You are too near your time to be jolting about the roads in this way. I wonder you did not send for my uncle to wait on you instead.’

  ‘But it is not Dr. Hume I wish to see,’ replied Susan, with a smile.

  He stared at her. ‘Not my uncle? Then who ?’

  ‘Yourself,’ she replied simply.

  ‘I?’ His tone was incredulous. ‘But, ma’am, I saw you yesterday — surely, if there had been anything…’

  ‘That was no use — how could I talk to you with so many people present? And if I had sent for you today, it would have been just the same. My only dependence on being private with you was in coming here. I managed to slip out without anyone at home knowing,’ she went on, with an impish grin that made her look more like a schoolgirl than the wife of an acknowledged leader of fashion. ‘They think I am resting in my room.’

  He laughed, infected by her childlike glee. ‘Well, ma’am, it seems you tricked them nicely. But it really wasn’t wise, you know it wasn’t. Now that you are here, however, tell me how I can have the honour of serving you?’