The girl in the blue dress

by Mary Burchell

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FOR A wild, improbable moment, it seemed to Beverley that the setting sun rushed up the sky again and shone in fullest glory. She could not she could not, she thought have heard Geoffrey aright. And yet how could she have mistaken such wonderful, pregnant words? He had smiled as he said them, it was true, and he was looking teasing and indulgent now. But then that was often Geoffrey's way. To say something of importance, with an air of amused casualness which gave it a delicious novelty. "Well " he touched her cheek with gentle fingers "no comment?" "I " she turned and hugged him suddenly "Geoffrey, did I really hear what I thought I heard?" "If yoa, heard me say we are engaged then it's all right,"" he told her with a grin. "But without the slightest warning without any preparation how could you? How do you expect me to be anything but stunned?" He laughed. "Haven't you noticed in the last ten years, that I'm extremely fond of you?" he enquired. "Of course. But " She was silent suddenly. For she could not have said why she was strangely and disagreeably struck by his exact choice of phrase. "Extremely fond of her" might most properly describe the various degrees of affection he had felt for her from the time she was a child until he asked her to marry him, of course. But why could he not have said that he loved her? That was what she wanted to hear. Extremely fond! An expression one used to other people, besides the one girl of one's heart. Why, it was the expression one might use to someone who was second best. "Geoffrey " she put her hands flat against him, 56 almost as though she would have pushed him away "why did you say just that?" "Just what, darling?" "That you were extremely fond of me." "Because I am." He looked-amused and puzzled. "But I'd rather you said that you that you love me. It means more." "Then I love you, my dearest child. Do you need to be reassured of the fact?" She did. That was exactly the case, of course. And yet she felt almost ungenerous as the idea came to her. This was the moment of her life. The moment she had hoped for during more years than she could assess. Was she to spoil it now because of some melodramatic misunderstanding implanted in her mind by an over-talkative child? "Oh, Geoffrey " she pressed her fair head against his shoulder in an access of affection "it's so wonderful that I can't take it in yet. How could you lead up to it so-casually, just by way of Lady Welman's silly dance?""It isn't a silly dance. It's rather a swell affair," he told her, as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "And you mustn't disparage it, if we're going to appear there for the first time in public together as an engaged couple. I take it you are coming with me now?""Why of course. Everything is all right now!" Even as she said that, she wondered if it were quite true. But what could be wrong, if Geoffrey had asked her to marry him?"When did you first think of of doing this?" she asked, half-diffidently."Of going to the dance?" he asked teasingly. "No. Of marrying me." "About eight years ago. When I first did that portrait of you in the blue and white dress." "Oh, Geoffrey!" She was enchanted, and almost completely reassured. "Then I forgot about it " ! 57 "Oh, Geoffrey!" she said again, and this time she was not so enchanted. " Until quite recently. When I re-examined the idea once more " again he gave her that teasing smile "and found it quite a sound notion." She laughed. She knew that she was meant to laugh, and that this was no unusual way for Geoffrey to talk. But some utterly perverse side of her kept on discovering a second, disturbing meaning in everything he said. He had found it "a sound notion" to propose marriage to her. Why? "Are you really so surprised that I want you to -marry me?" he asked her at that moment. "You reacted as though nothing were further from your thoughts. Did you never think, in all the years we have known each other, that it was the logical almost the inevitable conclusion?" "Yes," she said quietly and frankly, "I did think so sometimes. I it doesn't matter my saying so now I hoped so. But you told me once, years ago, that you couldn't ever afford to marry." "Well, I suppose that's still true, so far as many girls are concerned." He laughed rather shortly, she thought. "Maybe some people would say I oughtn't to ask you now, Beverley. I haven't a great deal to offer you, in the worldly sense." "It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "You'll be a success one day, I know. And, even if you're not, I still don't mind." "You're a darling." He held her close and kissed her, with an odd touch of something like remorse. Perhaps because he felt that for her sake he should abandon his artistic struggles and accept the humdrum prosperity which h's father still offered. "I'm not really half good enough for you, you know," he exclaimed. "That's for me to say, isn't it?" She smiled up at him. "I don't know. Perhaps I'm being a selfish hound 58 in asking you." And for a moment he looked sombre, and somehow a good deal older than his age. "No, you're not. You are making me very happy," Beverley told him. "And no man can do more for a girl than that." He laughed at that and kissed her again. "Then we're engaged?" he said. "Yes we're engaged," she repeated slowly. "I couldn't have imagined such a thing, when I came down here this evening." "Shall I walk back with you and tell your mother now?" he asked. "Or would you like to wait to tell people until you have your ring?" "I don't specially want to wait. I I don't even mind if I don't have a ring. Or only a very modest one," she said earnestly. For it seemed to her that the provision of an expensive ring might present a problem for Geoffrey, whom she still regarded as a struggling artist. However, he was emphatic about the necessity of a ring. "Of course you will have one! Either you can have one of your own choice, or else you can have the very beautiful ring which my grandmother left me, among her other possessions. It would need resetting, I daresay. But it has a very fine diamond in it, and a couple of sapphires, if I remember rightly." Beverley said that she would love to have his grandmother's ring. And indeed it seemed to her that, in owning a family ring, she would feel a sense of permanence and continuity in her link with Geoffrey which was just what her heart craved. "Then come on' indoors now, and I'll show it to you," he said. And arm-in-arm they went into the house. The ring, which he produced from a concealed drawer in his writing-desk, proved to be beautiful and obviously of value. The setting, however, was rather heavy and old-fashioned, and Geoffrey immediately began to make a sketch of how he thought it should ,be reset. 59 She hung over, watching him, so close that her hair brushed against his cheek. And once he turned his head and kissed her. "There how do you like that?" He held out the .sketch for her approval. "It's wonderful. It makes it more my ring." "Then I'll take it into Castleton tomorrow," Geoffrey said. "And I'll insist that they have it ready at any rate in time for you to wear it at the dance." Her eyes sparkled. "Shall we keep the news of our engagement to ourselves until then?" she suggested. For suddenly. she felt nervous at the thought of having to mention her news perhaps at Huntingford Grange on the morrow. "If you like. Except that I think we should tell your mother." "Oh, of course!" Beverley agreed. And so presently they strolled back to Beverley's home together, to break the happy news to her mother and her aunt. Mrs. Farman had, of course, known -Geoffrey well for years. And, looking at her daughter's "flushed and happy face, she expressed the utmost pleasure over the engagement. And even Aunt Ellen though she looked unsuitably gium produced some delicious home-made wine, in which to drink a~ toast to the occasion. For half an hour Geoffrey stayed, while they talked happy generalities. Then he said goodnight and went away, leaving Beverley to the more particular questions and comments of her mother and her aunt. "I suppose," Mrs. Farman said pensively, "that I ought to have asked him if he could provide properly for you, and so on. Since your father is no longer here, maybe that was my business. But it seems out of date, somehow, to ask these things nowadays, when young people make up their minds first very properly and tell their parents afterwards." "Oh, it's very out of date," Beverley assured her hastily. 60 "It is, however, very practical and to the point," said Aunt Ellen. "Can he provide properly for you?" "I suppose it depends what you mean by providing for someone," Beverley replied dryly. "I mean what the expression has always meant," Aunt Ellen stated obstinately. "Can he assure you ahome and an income on which you can both live in reasonable comfort, according to what you've been used to?" "He has a home as you know," Beverley said
rather coldly. "That tumbledown cottage?" Aunt Ellen sniffed eloquently. "I wouldn't want to live there." Beverley was sorely tempted to observe that no one had invited her to do so. But she bit her lip, in order to keep silent, and her mother said pacifically, "It will be wonderful to "have you so near, darling. Have you made .any plans yet about when you intend to marry?" "Oh. no!" To Beverley the idea of being engaged to Geoffrey was, in itself, so difficult to believe that she could not yet go on confidently to contemplate the particular circumstances of married life with him. "Will you go on working?" enquired Aunt Ellen, who had a great talent for asking the things that were better left unasked. "I suppose so. In fact yes, of course I shall. Why not? "Aunt Ellen did not answer that in words, but she shook her head and sighed, which Beverley found so exasperating that, if she had not caught her mother's amused and sympathetic glance, she would probably have been really rude to her aunt at that moment. However, nothing could cloud her spirits for long. Not even the faint undefined sensation of worry which lingered still in the background of her mind because of what Toni Wayne had said. With all her common sense and determination she suppressed that occasional quiver of anxiety. For in what way could the melodramatic confidences of an 61 imaginative little girl count against the solid, wonderful fact that Geoffrey had asked her to marry him? -She slept, dreamlessly that night, and woke to a glorious morning which seemed a fitting accompaniment to the radiant discovery which broke afresh upon her as she rose to consciousness. "I'm engaged to Geoffrey!" she thought, as she opened her eyes to the sunlight which was pouring in through the bedroom window:" "He asked me to marry him. There is nothing to worry about any more. I'm engaged to Geoffrey."Oddly enough, she had no special urge to share this wonderful fact with anyone no special temptation to tell anyone she knew who was with her on the bus that morning. It was enough -that she knewabout it herself, and could hug to her the heavenly knowledge that, even that very day, Geoffrey would go into Castleton to have his grandmother's ring reset as her own engagement ring. As she walked up the lane to Huntingford Grange, her new inner happiness tended to be slightly overcast by the strong impressions which she. associated with the Grange. Somehow, it was not so easy in this setting to be sure that Toni had been wrong in her conjectures or to know that Geoffrey loved her, and had loved her for years.On the contrary, she thought with disquieting clarity of how Sara had run from Geoffrey's studio, flushed and agitated, and with every air of having passed through some emotional scene. And she asked herself how she was to reconcile this with the cool ness of Geoffrey's own references to Sara, and the fact that she herself was the girl he had asked to marry him.Fortunately a very busy day lay ahead of Beverley. And not only was there no question of her talking to anyone about her own affairs even had she wished to do "so, which she did not but, in addition, she even had very little time to think about them herself. Towards the end of the afternoon, however, the 62 I. dance dresses for Sara and Madeleine had progressed as far as a final fitting. And the unfeigned delight of the two girls with her work certainly warmed Beverley's heart. "You clever, clever girl!" cried Madeleine, with generous enthusiasm. "I simply adore this uncluttered line. I don't know when I've looked so good in anything.". "You're much too beautiful ever to look less than good," Beverley assured her frankly. "But I do agree that this particular style brings out all your best points." "Isn't it wonderful, Mother?" Madeleine turned eagerly to her mother, who had come in to watch and to appraise while the last fitting was made. "Very beautiful," Mrs. Wayne agreed, in an extremely satisfied tone. "You couldn't have done better, Miss Farman. And, Sara dear, you were quite right to have that chiffon. Franklin will love you in all that floral femininity." "I hope he will love me in anything," retorted Sara, but a trifle carelessly. "I'm delighted with it, though, Miss Farman. You have even a touch of genius, I think." It was impossible not to be delighted with all these I compliments. And Beverley felt so happy and so well disposed towards them all that she almost became expansive enough', on her side, to tell them her own good news. But some lingering doubt of the way they might receive this held her back. And so she just smiled, and coloured slightly and becomingly, and said she was very glad indeed that they were all so pleased. "I think Toni's party dress is going to be lovely too," she added, as that young woman came bounding in, just returned from school. And, at Toni's urgent and rather maddeningly reiterated requests, this dress also was tried on and pronounced ideal. "You are clever, Miss Farman. I think you ought to have a specially nice tea, as a reward," declared Toni. And although they all laughed a good deal at 63 this point of view, Beverley had the conviction that there would be no querying of her "high prices," when her bill came in. Perhaps Toni was not the only one who felt vaguely that some special acknowledgement of the first success would not be out of place. At any rate, just as ' Beverley was thinking of packing away her work for the day, Sara came upstairs again and put her head round the door. "Miss Farman, are you in any special hurry to get home? Because Franklin Mr. Lowell has just come, to drive me over to his place to see about some alterations which the builders have been doing. And he suggests that you might like to take the opportunity of coming to see your portrait." "Why how kind of you!" Beverley was a good deal touched by the friendliness of the gesture, and the fact that Sara, as well as Franklin Lowell, seemed to think it was perfectly natural to change a casual suggestion into a definite invitation. "I'd love to come," Beverley admitted. "I'll be ready in five minutes." "All right. Come down when you're ready. You'll find us in the little drawing-room," Sara told her. She went away again, and Beverley hurried" with her clearing-up operations. The invitation was very welcome, in more ways than one. Quite apart from the fact that it would really be delightfully interesting to see Geoffrey's picture of her once more, she thought suddenly that the chance of seeing Sara and Franklin Lowell together in their future home might do more for her than anything else to set her mind finally at rest about Toni's confidences. She might, once and for all, see that Sara's appparent indifference was no more than a reserved manner. And she might conceivably find, in the contemplation of the two of them together, something entirely reassuring to set against that disagreeable recollection of Sara outside Geoffrey's studio. When she came downstairs, she found not only 64 $ Franklin Lowell and all the members of the Wayne family whom she already knew, but also, for the first time, Mr. Wayne. He had, she had gathered, been away on some vague business trip abroad during her first week or so at Huntingford Grange. But now that she saw him, she remembered immediately what his second daughter had said about his being a darling but quite unpractical. And she thought that, whatever his trip abroad had included, good, hard, practical business affairs had not been to the fore. He was an exceptionally handsome man it was obvious where the Wayne girls got their looks : and he had a genial, charming, all-embracing manner which was in curious contrast to his wife's cool re serve. On being introduced to Beverley, he welcomed ' her more as a friend of the family than a casual employee, and she very much doubted if he had even noticed the few words of explanation with which Mrs. Wayne had amplified the introduction. All he appeared to have caught was the fact that she came from Binwick, and he immediately launched , into an eloquent appreciation of the beauties and the historical significance of Binwick, delivered in a rich : and flexible voice to which one could only listen with . admiration and pleasure. His manner was rather that of a slightly old fashioned but highly gifted actor-manager, and Beverley could not help thinking that if Madeleine had : any grounds for visualizing herself succeeding in a stage career, she must have inherited these from her father. He seemed to be on unexpectedly good terms with .his future son-in-law. And, if Franklin Lowell listened to the dissertation on Binwick with obvious amusement, it was a sort of indulgent amusement. At the end, he got to his feet, stretched himself lazily, so that Beverley could not help noticing how tall and strangely graceful he was, and said, "Well, shall we go now?"? In contrast to Mr. Wayne's rolling periods, there 65 was something almost comic about the curt
economy of that. But Sara, it seemed, was quite ready to go. She said goodbye to her mother and went out to the car with Franklin Beverley following a tactful step or two behind. Just as they had seated themselves, however, Sara remembered that she had forgotten something she wanted to take over to Franklin's housekeeper. "I won't be a minute," she promised. "Wait for me." And, jumping out of the car, she ran into the house once more. It was very pleasant, sitting out there in the late afternoon sunshine, the windows of the car open to the breeze which almost always blew round the small plateau on which Huntingford Grange was built. And leaning back in her seat, Beverley relaxed with a slight, contented sigh. Franklin Lowell turned round in the driving-seat and smiled at her. "Settling down all right here?" he enquired good humouredly. "Oh, yes, indeed! Everyone is very kind to me. And they are a delightful an interesting family to work for." "Yes, they're interesting, all right. Is that the first time you've met Mr. Wayne?" Beverley said it was. "Amazing fellow." Franklin Lowell grinned reminiscently. "Now my old man wouldn't have managed to say as much as that about the place where he was born and bred. And I don't expect Mr. Wayne has passed through Binwick more than a dozen times in the car. You would think he'd left half his heart there." Beverley laughed. "He has a wonderful speaking voice," she said sincerely. "Yes. I suppose he's what you mean by a spellbinder," her companion agreed, but without rancour. 66 "They all have a touch of it. I think that's why they fascinate me as a family." "Do they fascinate you?" Beverley was interested, and a little amused to hear him admit to that. "I mean I understand that your fiancee fascinates you, naturally. But as a family?" "Yes. The whole lot of them. Even Toni. There is nothing the least bit standardized about them, in an increasingly standardized world. Sometimes I don't think I understand any of them. Not even Sara. Perhaps least of all Sara," he added, half to himself. But before Beverley could ask him what he meant by that if, indeed, she could have done so in any case Sara herself came out of the house again and rejoined them. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't keep you too long." "It's all right." Franklin smiled at her, with an air of affectionate indulgence which Beverley found charming. They drove off then. And, sitting there in the back seat of the car, Beverley unobtrusively watched the other two, as they chatted to each other in front. Once or twice Sara turned round and included Beverley in the conversation. But mostly she and Franklin appeared to be talking about the' structural alterations they were going to see. In a sense they were on good terms, Beverley supposed. That was to say they seemed to agree quite pleasantly about what should still be done, and several times he turned to flash that singularity attractive smile at Sara. And yet all that Beverley could say to herself was that she would have felt and behaved quite differently if she had been driving out with Geoffrey to inspect their future home. But this, she reminded herself, could be quite easily explained by the difference in temperament between her and Sara Wayne. Why should Sara be eager and expansive and excited, if that were not her disposition? The drive took less than twenty minutes and brought them to Eithorpe Hall, which had, Beverley 67 remembered, been inhabited during most of her growing-up years by an elderly recluse who had died about five years previously. "Why, I didn't realize you lived here!" she said to Franklin Lowell. "It was empty for several years, wasn't it?" "Yes. I bought it about a year ago. And now Sara and I are gradually having it changed to suit our future plans." "Then my portrait I mean the picture of me hasn't been hanging here long?" "Oh, no. I had it in my flat in London." "In your flat?""Yes. Why not?" He glanced round, rather amused, she realized. "Oh, I don't know," Beverley said. But what she was really thinking was that there was something extraordinarily intimate about living with a portrait in a flat. Even a big flat. And even if the portrait were of a little girl. In a big country house one might not notice it for days on end. It might even become part of the general surroundings. But in a flat, somehow, it was like a day-to-day personal contact. She thought she saw now why he had spoken of her picture as "my little girl in the blue and white frock" in that half amused, half-fanciful way. And the reflection curiously touched her. When they came into the big panelled entrance hall of the house, the very correct and elderly housekeeper came out to greet them, and almost immediately Sara excused herself and went off with her. "Show Miss Farman her picture," she said to Franklin over her shoulder. "I shan't be long." And so, rather to Beverley's pleasure, she and Franklin Lowell went off together to look at her picture. It was hanging, in an excellent light, in a small panelled room, which had long windows opening out on to a terrace at the back of the house. There was no other picture in the room and, either because it 68 really was very good, or because it had been very skilfully placed, it was extraordinarily effective. "I say " Beverley stood smilingly surveying it "it's rather nice, isn't it?" "It's the nicest picture I know," said Franklin Lowell. She laughed. "Have you told Geoffrey that?" "No. I don't think so." "You should do. It's an expression of opinion that any artist would like to hear passed on his work." "I don't know that it's only the work which prompts the opinion," Franklin Lowell said. "The subject's nice too." "Oh " Beverley laughed again and flushed that time "children always make effective models." "Indeed they do not. I have seen some child studies which make me sick." "Oh, well haven't we all?" Beverley said feelingly. "Does Sara does Miss Wayne like the picture?" "Very much. I think that was why she was so eager to have Revian paint her." "Was it?" thought Beverley. But aloud she said, "I should love to see the portrait of her, if I may." "Yes, of course. It's in my study. Come this way." As they crossed the hall again, Sara rejoined them and asked in such a friendly and casual way how Beverley had liked her picture that suddenly Beverley was almost sure that all her fears and imaginings were ridiculous fancy. "I think it's enchanting. I had forgotten how well Geoffrey did it," she said. "And now I'm curious to see his portrait of you." "Oh, yes. It's in the study." Sara came with them, to the rather austere room where it was obvious that a great deal of serious work was done. The beautiful, curiously romantic portrait was rather out of keeping with the rest of the room. And yet its intrinsic loveliness justified its position anywhere. "It's absolutely lovely!" Beverley exclaimed. "I 69 don't think even Geoffrey ever did anything better. It's exactly like you. Oh, he is clever!" The others both laughed at her enthusiasm, and Sara turned once more to -examine the portrait appraisingly, while Franklin said teasingly to Beverley, "You are an admirer of his, aren't you?" "Oh, yes!" Beverley flushed again, with the intensity of her feelings. And then suddenly she could not have said whether it was simply that she could no longer keep her news to herself, or whether it was the imperative desire to put all her doubts to the test she looked at Sara's unconscious back and added, "As a matter of fact, I became engaged to him yesterday evening." 70