Lady Good-for-Nothing: A Man's Portrait of a Woman

by Arthur Quiller-Couch

  Chapter II.

  THE RETURN.

  The breakers boomed up the beach, and in the blown spray Old Josselinpottered, bareheaded and barefoot. His eyesight had grown dimmer, butotherwise his bodily health had improved, for nowadays he ate foodenough: and, as for purblindness, why there was no real need to keepwatch on the sea. He did it from habit.

  Ruth came on him much as Sir Oliver had come on him three years before;the roar of the breakers swallowing all sound of Madcap's hoofs untilshe was close at his shoulder. Now as then he turned about with apuzzled face, peered, and lifted his hand a little way as if to touchhis forehead.

  "Your ladyship--" he mumbled, noting only her fine clothes.

  "Grandfather!"

  She slipped down from saddle and kissed him, in sight of the grooms, whohad reined up fifty yards away.

  "What? Ruth, is it? . . . Here's news, now, for your mother, poorsoul!"

  "How is she? Take me to her at once, please."

  "Eh! . . . Your mother keeps well enough; though doited, o' course--doited. Properly grown you be, too, I must say. . . . I didn'treckernise ye comin' on me like that. Inches ye've grown."

  "And you--well, you look just the same as ever; only fuller and haler."

  "Do I?" The old man gave her in the old way certain details of hishealth. "But I'm betterin'. Food's a blessin', however ye comeby it."

  On a sudden, as she read his thought, the very tokens of health in hisface accused her . . . and, a moment since, she had been merely glad tonote them.

  "Clothes too, ye'll say? I don't set store by clothes, meself; but afine han'some quean they make of ye. That's a mare, too! Cost ahundred guineas, I shouldn't wonder. . . . Well, an' how's the gentlemankeepin'? Turned into a lord, you told us, in one o' your letters: that,or something o' the sort."

  "Then at any rate you have read my letters?"

  "Why, to be sure. My old eyes can't tackle 'em; but your mother reads'em out, over an' over, an' I tell her what this an' that means, an' getthe sense into her head somehow."

  "Take me to her." Ruth signalled to the grooms, who came forward.They were well-trained servants, recent imports from England, and SirOliver had billeted them where they could hear no gossip of her history.They had kept their distance with faces absolutely impassive while theirmistress kissed and chatted with this old man, and they merely touchedtheir hats, with a "Very good, miss," when she gave over the mare,saying she would walk up to the cottage and rest for an hour.

  "Oo-oof! the dear old smell!" Ruth, before she turned, drew in a deepbreath of it. There was no one near to observe and liken her, standingthere with blown tresses and wind-wrapt skirt on the edge of Ocean, tothe fairest among goddesses, the Sea-born.

  She walked up the beach, the old man beside her.

  "Ay: you reckernise the taste of it, I dessay. But you'd not come backto it, not you. . . . It must be nigh upon dinner: my belly still keepstime like a clock. M'ria shall cook us a few clams. Snuffin' won'tbring it back like clams." He chuckled, supposing he had made a joke.

  Her mother had caught sight of them from the window where she sat asusual watching the sea. As they climbed the slope, picking their wayalong loosely-piled wreckwood, she opened the door and stood at firstfastening a clean apron and then rubbing her palms up and down upon it,as though they were sweaty and she would dry them before she shookhands.

  "That's so, M'ria!" the old man shouted cheerfully, as his eyes made outthe patch of white apron in the doorway. "It's our Ruth, all right--come to pay us a visit!" He bawled it, at close quarters. This was hisway of conveying intelligence to the crazed brain.

  Mrs. Josselin, awed by her daughter's appearance--a little perhaps, byher loveliness; more, belike, by her air of distinction and her finedress (though this was simple enough--a riding suit of grey velvet, witha broad-brimmed hat and one black feather)--withdrew behind her back thehand she had been wiping, and stood irresolute, smiling in a timid way.

  It was horrible. Ruth stretched out her arms lest in another moment hermother should bob a curtsy.

  "Mother--mother!"

  She took the poor creature in her arms and held her, shivering a littleas she sought her lips; for Mrs. Josselin, albeit scrupulously clean,had a trace of that strange wild smell that haunts the insane. Ruth hadlived with it aforetime and ceased to notice it. Now she recognised it,and shivered.

  "Surely, surely," said the mother as soon as the embrace released her."I always said you would come back, some day. In wealth or in trouble,I always told grandfather you would come back. . . . That hat, now--thevery latest I'll be bound. . . . And how is your good gentleman?"

  "Mother! Please do not call him that!"

  "Why, you ha'n't quarrelled, ha' you?"

  "Indeed, no."

  "That's right." Mrs. Josselin nodded, looking extremely wise."Show a good face always, no matter what happens; and, with your looksthere's no saying what you can't persuade him to. All the Pococks weregood-looking, though I say it who shouldn't: and as for the Josselins--"

  "Sit down, mother," Ruth commanded. She must get this over, and soon,for it was straining at her heart. "Sit down and listen to what I haveto tell. Afterwards you shall get me something to eat; and while youare dishing it--dear mother, you were always briskest about thefireplace--we will talk in the old style."

  "Surely, surely." Mrs. Josselin seated herself on the block-stool.

  "You remember the promise? In three years--and yesterday the threeyears were up--I was to come back and report myself."

  "Is it three years, now? Time _do_ slip away!"

  "The gel's right," corroborated old Josselin, pausing as he filled apipe. "I remember it."

  "This is what I have to report--Sir Oliver has asked me to marry him."

  There was a pause. "I dunno," said the old man sourly--and Ruth knewthat tone so well! He always used it on hearing good news, lest heshould be mistaken for genial--"I dunno why you couldn' ha' told us thatstraight off, without beatin' round the bush. It's important enough."

  "He has asked me to marry him, and I have said 'yes.'"

  "What else _could_ ye say?"

  "Of _course_ she said 'yes,' the darling!" Mrs. Josselin clapped herhands together, without noise. "What did I ever say but that 'twas achance, if you used it? But when is it to be?" she added, suspiciously.

  "Very soon. As soon as I please, in fact."

  "You take my advice and pin him to it. The sooner the better--eh,darling?"

  Ruth rose wearily. "I see the pot boiling," she said with a glance atthe fireplace, "and I have been on horseback since seven o'clock.Mother, won't you give me food, at least? I am hungry as a hunter."

  --But this was very nearly a fib. She had been hungry enough, half anhour ago. Now her throat worked in disgust--not at the hovel and itspoverty; for these were dear--but at the thought that thus for threeyears her dearest had been thinking of her. It had been the home ofinfinite mutual tolerance, of some affection--an affection not patentperhaps--and for years it had been all she owned. Now it lived on, butwas poisoned; the atmosphere of the humble place was poisoned, andthrough her.

  "Food?"--her mother rose. "Food be sure, and a bed, deary: for you'llbe sleeping here, of course?"

  "No. I go on to Port Nassau; and thence in a few days to a lodging upin the back country."

  "Such a mare as she's ridin' too!" put in the old man.

  "I wouldn' put up at Port Nassau, if I was you," said her mother pausingas she made ready to lift the pot-handle. "They won't know what you'vetold us, and they'll cast up the old shame on you."

  "M'ria ha'n't talked so sensible for days," said the old man."Joy must ha' steadied her. . . . Clams, is it? Clams, I hope."

  The meal over, Ruth took leave of them, reproaching herself for herhaste, though troubled to have delayed the grooms so long.

  She mounted and rode forward thoughtfully.

  The grooms did not wear the Vyell white and scarlet,
but a sober liveryof dark blue. Between more serious thoughts Ruth wondered if any one inPort Nassau would recognise her.

  The hostess of the Bowling Green did not, but came to the door anddropped curtsies to her, as to a grand lady. She startled Ruth,however, by respectfully asking her name.

  Ruth, who had forgotten to provide against this, had a happyinspiration.

  "I am Miss Ruth," she said.

  The landlady desired to be informed how to spell it. "For," said she,"I keep a list of all the quality that honour the Bowling Green."

  Ruth signed it boldly in the book presented, and ordered supper to bebrought to her room; also a fire to be lit. She was given the same roomin which she had knelt to pull off Oliver Vyell's boots.

  Whilst supper was preparing, in a panic lest she should be recognisedshe tied her hair high and wound it with a rope of pearls--her lover'sfirst gift to her. In her dress she could make little change.The waggon following in her wake would be due to-morrow with her boxes;but for to-night she must rely on the few necessaries of toilet thegrooms had brought, packed in small hold-alls at their saddle bows.

  Her fears proved to be idle. The meal was served by a small maid, uponwhom she once or twice looked curiously. She wondered if the landladyscolded her often.

  After supper she sat a long while in thought over the fire, shieldingits heat from her with her hands. They were exquisite hands, but onceor twice she turned them palms-uppermost, as though to make sure theybore no scars.