The girl in the blue dress

by Mary Burchell

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "YOU'RE engaged?" repeated Franklin, on a note of amusement and surprise. "To Geoffrey Revian? Why, congratulations " He held out his hand to her. "How did you keep that news to yourself until now?" "Oh, there were quite a lot of other things to attend to today," she assured him, and she tried to make her voice sound naturally frank and happy. But she looked past him as she spoke, to the very still figure of Sara, who even now had not turned round. "Did you hear that, Sara?" Franklin too looked over at his fianc�then. "Did you know. about Miss Farman's engagement?" And then, at last, Sara did turn to face them, and Beverley saw that she was very pale. "Yes I heard." Sara spoke in a quiet, strangely flat voice. "But I didn't know about it before. I hope you will be very happy, Miss Farman." "Thank you," said Beverley in a small voice, for she felt most strangely as' though she had struck some unoffending person in the face. She had not intended to hurt Sara like that. Before she spoke the fatal words, she had almost convinced herself that the other girl really had no interest in Geoffrey, after all. Now in face of that blank look and inescapable pallor she could no longer cherish any illusions. Whatever Geoffrey's attitude might be, there was no doubt of Sara's fondness for him. "Aren't you well, darling?" It was Franklin who spoke suddenly, galvanizing both girls into the realization that they must somehow disguise the immense gulf which had all at once been torn in their relationship. "I'm all right." Sara roused herself. "I have a slight 71 headache, but it's nothing much. Don't we want to show -Miss Farman the rest of the house?" With the eager assurance that she would love to see more of Eithorpe Hall, Beverley seconded this attempt to return to normality. And, as they started on an informal tour of the house, she forced herself to make easy conversation, so as to hide the fact that Sara had become strangely silent again. She asked Franklin all sorts of questions how he had come to buy the place, and what other alterations he and Sara proposed to make. "I always wanted a place of this kind," he told her candidly. "I suppose " he grinned reflectively "it's something in me from some farming ancestors, way back in the family. Then, when my father died, he left me a controlling interest in a variety of concerns mostly to do with plastics. A lot of our work is done in the Tyrfe Valley, and it seemed the reasonable moment to combine my business interests with the pleasures of owning a country estate. Now . all I need is a beautiful wife to grace the scene. Isn't that right, my sweet?" And he put his arm round Sara. "Yes," she said. But that was all. In other circumstances, Beverley would have been truly interested to see over Eithorpe Hall. But, as it was, she felt the strain of the present situation increasing with every room she looked at and admired. She supposed that what she wanted more than anything else in the world was to have Sara to herself for ten minutes. And yet, even if she achieved that, what was there, she could say? In the end, the opportunity came with almost frightening suddenness and simplicity. They had all returned to the pleasant drawing-room overlooking a terraced garden where excellent coffee and sandwiches had been set out by the housekeeper. And, just as they had sat down, a servant came to say that Franklin was wanted on the telephone. "Don't wait for me," he said. "If it's Thompson 72 about the new barns I may be some while." And , then he went away, leaving the two girls together. There was silence for a moment. Then Beverley, unable to sit still and exchange no more than social pleasantries, got up from her chair and walked restlessly to the window. "May I pour you some coffee?" Sara's voice enquired politely and formally behind her. "Yes, please I mean no, thank you " Beverley turned, with sudden resolution and faced the other girl. "Never mind about the coffee for the moment." She spoke quite gently. "There's something else we must talk about." "Are you sure?" Sara raised her beautiful eyes and looked Beverley full in the face. "Aren't some things better left unsaid?" "Sometimes, perhaps. But not in this case." Beverley came over and sat down again, facing the other girl. "Sara " in that moment any social distinction between them was wiped out "I simply have to ask you something. You're in love with Geoffrey Revian yourself, aren't you?" Even up to that very last moment, perhaps she had some wild hope that all her fears would be proved groundless. But, if so, the hope was dashed by the way Sara caught her breath at the question. There was a moment's hesitation, then she said quietly, "Yes." Though she added almost immediately. "But it isn't any good." "How do you mean? it isn't any good?" "There was never any question of our marrying. There is no reason why you should not be engaged to him." "But you can't just dispose of it like that!" Beverley was aghast, both at the final confirmation of her worst fears and at Sara's over-simplification of a tragically complicated issue. "I can't possibly marry Geoffrey knowing that he he loves someone e 0 " Again there was an infinitesimal pause. Then Sara spoke, with an effort, Beverley thought. 73 "I didn't say that he loved me. I only said I loved him." "Oh my dear " Beverley put out her hand, and in that moment of compassion she felt that one was almost as much of a barrier as the other. "I'm sorry to to make you talk of your most private feelings, but ""It doesn't matter. I suppose we had to talk of them, after what happened half an hour ago." Sara was strangely calm about it all now. "How did you guess, by the way?" "That you loved Geoffrey?" "Yes." "Oh one. or two things made me wonder Beverley was not going to betray Toni even now "but only quite passingly. Then the way you looked when I spoke of my engagement " "Did I give myself away so completely?" "N-no. But you went white and looked stunned." "Do you think Franklin noticed?" "Only enough to think you unwell. He accepted the headache excuse, I'm sure. Men are rather dense about these things," Beverley said consolingly. "Not Franklin," replied Sara dryly, but she seemed reassured. Then she rather deliberately poured out coffee for them both and said, "Tell me about yourself and Geoffrey."This was not quite what Beverley had intended. She had wanted Sara to tell her about herself and Geoffrey. But she could not refuse to answer a request put with so little offence, even if, in a sense, she were talking to her rival. "I've known him since I was a child as I told you," she began hesitatingly. "I I think I have always loved him, though not, of course, always in quite the same way, over the years. But he he always seemed, in some way, to be mine. I didn't often think specifically about marrying him, because I never thought of him as being in a position to marry." 74 I "He's not, I suppose, even now," Sara remarked, with a faint smile. "That's why I assumed there wouldn't be anyone else in his life." Beverley hesitated for a moment, while she reviewed .the hopes and fears of the immediate past and wondered what she could venture to tell Sara. Then she saw it was impossible to enlarge on those, and she said lamely, "Then, quite unexpectedly, last night he asked me to marry him." I "Last night?" Sara spoke almost under her breath. I It was so recent? Only - last night!" "Yes." Beverley had not meant her voice to sound forlorn, but the fearful drop from the high hopes of I ' P" 1011'' evening to the disillusionment of the last half-hour could not be borne without a quiver in I one's tone. Perhaps that was what suddenly roused Sara to I the realization that someone else's happiness was at stake. "Listen, Beverley- " she leaned forward and put her hand on Beverley's arm "you're not to let this I interfere with your happiness or his. As you can�t see, I�m going to marry someone else. I have my life mapped out in front of me. I'm sorry I hadn't the self-discipline to hide my feelings better just now but the weakness is past. I shall marry Franklin and be a very fortunate girl in many ways, and all my family will be delighted. You will marry Geoffrey and I beg you forget anything that happened or was said this afternoon." "I can't' you kn()w'" Beverley replied quite simply. Human nature doesn't react that way." "But what do you propose to do?" Sara opened her eyes wide. I "I don't know." "You wouldn't be so foolish as to - to brine the Isubject up with Geoffrey." "I don't know," Beverley said again. "No, I don't ?thmk so. But " she summoned all her resolution Sara, there is something I simply must know, either I' 75 ' from you or from him. You said just now that that you loved him,-but that you had made no assertion that he loved you. Did that mean " she swallowed "was that your way of saying that he doesn't love you?" "I suppose so." Sara looked straight i
n front of her, rather stonily. "But can't you be more categorical?" cried Beverley. "Oh, I know it's awful to ask you to define his attitude, when you feel as you do. But don't you see? I'm tormented by the idea .that he he just decided to marry me on the rebound. I wouldn't be prepared to accept that. I'd rather " " Beverley " suddenly the other girl spoke, with an instinctive half-bitter sort of knowledge quite unlike her usual passionless attitude "don't you know that things are never satisfactorily black or white in this life? I can only tell you that if Geoffrey ever loved me at all, he certainly didn't love me well enough to alter his life in the only way that would have made it possible for us to marry." "I don't understand." "No. How should you?" Sara passed her hand over her face, as though literally clearing away the cobwebs from her own vision. "It's not very simple to people who don't know our family well. But I'll try to explain " "Please do." Beverley looked at her anxiously, as though she were talking some different and not very familiar language. "We're poor and we're ambitious, Beverley. Almost all of us except perhaps Toni " Sara smiled faintly. "I'm not free from the same outlook myself. I don't think I'd be prepared to be a poor man's wife, even if I were left entirely to my own choice. But whether I would or not just doesn't arise. What I do affects all the others in the family, in a lesser or greater degree. I'm almost the best asset they have " she said it without conceit and without false modesty "I'm the beautiful eldest daughter who always has to marry money " 76 "But they can't " began Beverley in horrified protest. "Wait " Sara held up her hand, again with 'that faint smile. "You mustn't think there is anything melodramatic or cruel about it. No one would actually put violent pressure on me except emotionally speaking ' if I refused to play ball. But unless I marry money, the family situation will be pretty grim. Lots of girls, I suppose, have to do the same " "Indeed they don't!" exclaimed Beverley, in energetic protest. "Oh, yes, they do. Not as a clear-cut issue, perhaps. But their family needs and, to a certain extent, their own tastes and inclinations lead them inevitably that way. I don't mean that I would marry an odious man, just because he was rich, and no one in the family would expect me to do so " "I should think not, indeed!" "But Franklin is quite a dear " Beverley found herself hoping, passingly, that the gay, high-spirited, rather arrogant Franklin Lowell would never know that Sara spoke of him in that casual way. "He is the answer to all our prayers. I shall marry him." "And Geoffrey?" "Geoffrey just wouldn't do," Sara said quietly and deliberately. "A poor, struggling artist would be nothing less than a disaster in our" family." Beverley stared at the other girl, still unable to take in completely a view of life so totally different from her own. After a moment she said slowly, "Then you never seriously considered Geoffrey as a husband?" A sort of hope, undefined but real, began to stir in her heart again. "Not as things are." Hope died, and an acute anxiety took its place. "You said something just now that he wouldn't alter his life in the only way that would have made a marriage possible. What, exactly, did you mean by that? Did you discuss the subject with him?" 77 "Oh, Beverley " Sara shrugged, half-humourously, half-despairingly "where is the dividing line between our hopes and our suggestions? I let him know that I couldn't think of marrying a poor man "Quite academically speaking?" interrupted Beverley sharply. There was the faintest pause. Then Sara said, though without looking at Beverley, "Quite academically speaking. If he wanted me enough, he must have known from that, that he would have to make things up with his father " "But he couldn't do that without giving up his painting!" Beverley, who had followed all the details of that struggle so sympathetically, was aghast at the idea. .But Sara was less impressed. "That was up to him," she said calmly. "He' could have made a reconrilation -if he wanted to. And his father is quite a wealthy man. Not so rich as Franklin, of course, but rich enough to make his only son acceptable in my family, provided they were on good terms. Geoffrey was not prepared to do that," "Did he say as mn"h?" Beverley asked quickly. And she almost pray-d that the other girl would look her in the face when she replied, so that she would know positively and for ever if the real truth were being told. But Sara's long lashes came down, in that faintly secretive way of hers, and her face was expressionless as she said, "It was never discussed categorically. The facts spoke for themselves." Beverley thought it was hopelessly, maddeningly unsatisfactory to have facts speaking for themselves. She wanted someone to say, in so many words, that, even if Geoffrey had once been very much attracted to Sara, that was over and done with, and had, in any case, never amounted to very much. Rut Geoffrey was the only one who could make that categorical statement. And how could one, with any decency and dignity, ask Geoffrey? 78 Possibly Sara could have said more. Or possibly she chose to conceal more, both for her own self-respect and a genuine concern for Beverley's peace of mind. In any case, they seemed suddenly to have come to the end of the extraordinary flood of candour which had broken loose over them, and now they sat silently facing each other over the coffee and sandwiches. So they were sitting when Franklin came back again, with apologies for having left them so long. If he detected any strain in their manner, he concealed the fact admirably and, with a tremendous effort, Beverley once more contrived to take a reasonable part in the conventional conversation which filled the gap until it was time to go. At this point Sara pleaded that her headache had become worse, and asked if Beverley would mind their dropping her first at Huntingford Grange before making the journey to Binwick. "No, of course not." Beverley tried to look completely convinced of the genuineness of this excuse, while Franklin Lowell, in the manner of most thoroughly healthy people faced by even a minor indisposition in someone else, looked rather nonplussed. "It's nothing, really," Sara explained almost impatiently. "I'll be all right in the morning." And so they drove back to Huntingford Grange, where Sara bade them both a very brief goodnight and left them. "You had better come and sit in front now," Franklin suggested to Beverley, when Sara had disappeared into the house. "It's more companionable that way." So Beverley changed her seat. And presently when the somewhat sobering effect of Sara's pale presence had passed, her companion began to ask her in a friendly way about her own affairs when she and Geoffrey hoped to get married and what their future plans might be. Somehow, it was much easier explaining the position to Franklin Lowell than to Aunt Ellen, and 79 Beverley found herself telling him quite frankly that they had not been able to get very far yet with the practical arrangements. "Just made the one big discovery that you were born for each other, and left it at that?" he suggested. "More or less." She tried not to think of what Sara and she had discussed that evening. "Though, of course," she went on, with a slight effort, "we have known each other for so long that it couldn't really have come as a complete surprise to us both." "But it was a surprise to you?" He was, she realized, quick to sense shades of meaning in a doubtful tone. "In the end yes." And then, in a sort of burst of confidence she said, "Sometimes one hopes for a long time, without really daring to expect anything to happen. And then suddenly it happens." "And that was the way with you?" He smiled, not unkindly. "So that now all the anxiety and doubts are over, eh?" She didn't answer. Because, when the situation was put into words like that, she was overwhelmed by the thought of the anxiety and doubts which still remained. Apparently he was good at interpreting silences too, for he gave her that shrewd, oddly friendly glance and said, "Not quite over, I see. What's the trouble?" "There there isn't any," she declared quickly, startled that he could read her so easily. He did not press the point, and she could have left the matter there. But something perhaps it was the unspeakable urge to be reassured by someone, anyone goaded her into further, inexplicableconfidences. "I don't know why I'm telling you but, for a whHe, I I thought he was keen on someone else." "Well, it seems you were wrong," he pointed out philosophically. "I don't know." 80 He glanced at her again. Then he said in a deliberately matter-of-fact sort of voice, "Lots of men have a preliminary flutter with someone else before they settle down with the one girl who matters." "I know. I suppose it's silly to worry." "Very," he assured her, but aga
in not unkindly. "Concentrate on what is coming, my dear, not on what is past. Are you going to settle in Binwick?" "Oh, yes!" She explained briefly about her mother. "And I shall go on working too. We shan't be too well off," she admitted, with a candour which seemed to amuse him. "No? And yet " he frowned consideringly "Revian ought to make money, you know. He's got what it takes, so far as portrait painting is concerned, I should have thought. He ought to have a London exhibition of his own. That would be the thing to put him on the map." Beverley laughed and shook her head, as she thought of the times she and Geoffrey had discussed just such an idea in past years. "Have you any idea what that would cost? Especially for people living in a remote village like this." "Doesn't his father ever help him?" "No. He doesn't approve of Geoffrey's way of life .at all. He wanted him to go into the business years ago, and I don't think Geoffrey was very tactful in the way he refused. They've been quite bitterly estranged ever since." "I see." Franklin Lowell narrowed his handsome eyes slightly as he looked ahead. "Have you no good friends?" "Yes, of course. But no one who could think of putting up so much money. Why should they, come to that?" "Because he is very talented and you are very nice, I suppose," he replied, with a smile. "I tell you what I'll give it to you for a wedding present." "Give me give us ? I don't understand," gasped Beverley. "What is it you want to give us 81 for a wedding present? Oh, but you can't anyway. You hardly know us." "Pardon me I've known you since you were a little girl." "Oh, but that's different!" She laughed, half touched and wholly charmed. "On the contrary, it is extremely appropriate. I might even lend my portrait of you for the occasion," he said reflectively. "It's almost essential, I suppose, since it was the cause of bringing us all together, and the basis of my confidence in Revian as an artist. Yes definitely that will have to have a place in the exhibition." "But I simply can't believe it! Do you really mean that you want to to finance an exhibition of Geoffrey's pictures in a London gallery?" "Yes. Is it so astonishing? Lots of rich men fancy themselves as patrons of the arts, I believe." "But not you," she said, before she could stop herself. Then she coloured and gave him an apologetic little smile. "Well, no," he agreed, without offence. Indeed, he gave her a wickedly amused glance in return for her smile. "I suppose it isn't much in my line, really. But I do believe in Revian as an artist, and I do like you as a person. And though I don't know why I should allow. myself to be. trapped into this sentimental statement it pleases me to do something towards the future happiness of my little friend in the blue and white dress." "Oh, Mr. Lowell " she actually had to swallow a slight lump in her throat "you really are an awfully nice person, and I don't know how to thank you. Even if Geoffrey doesn't agree " "Why shouldn't he agree?" "Well " she boggled at the impossibility of putting into words the doubts which assailed her. For had not Geoffrey categorically said that he didn't like Franklin? And, in addition, if there had ever been anything between Sara and Geoffrey, was it quite 82 right that Geoffrey should accept help from the man Sara was to marry? "You mean," said Franklin Lowell carelessly at this point, "that he doesn't like me and might not want to accept help from me?" "Why how did you know?" She was too much taken aback for polite concealment. "That he doesn't like me?" Her companion was perfectly good-humoured about it. "One always knows, unless one is a fool. I don't much like him either, come to that," he added, without rancour. "But then it isn't necessary that I should." "Isn't it?" She looked nonplussed. "But why should you help him if you don't like him?" "I've told you. Because I like you. And I admire his work." Beverley noted the changed order of his reasons, and wondered just how much value one should set on academic admiration. ''If he were not marrying me, would you make the same offer of help?" she "enquired suddenly. "No. I don't expect so. But don't split hairs about lhat," he told her carelessly. "Think it over. There is no need to decide anything at the moment. But if you come to the conclusion that you like the idea, it can all be arranged. You can even, if you like, bring in an unknown benefactor, and not tell Revian who is putting up the money." "I don't think that would be practically possible," she said gravely. "Anything is practically possible if one wants it sufficiently," he retorted, with a touch of that almost arrogant good humour which is seen only in those to whom success comes naturally. "This is your placeisn't it?" ' r ' "Oh yes." In her eagerness and interest, she had hardly realized that they had arrived in Binwick and were how stopping before her own front door. "Thank you so much for so many things " she turned, and held out her hand to him "but most 83 of all for this wonderful, unbelievable offer to Geoffrey." "To you," he corrected, but he smiled. "Well, thank you, anyway. I hope I haven't taken up too much of your evening." "No, of course not. I'm not doing anything except drive back home." "Truly? Then you wouldn't " she hesitated diffidently "you wouldn't care to come in and see my mother, would you?" "If you think she would like me to of course." "She would love it, I'm sure!" Beverley flushed with pleasure. "I don't know why she should," he said, with some amusement. But he got out of the car immediately. "Because when you spend all your time in bed, it's always interesting to see new people," Beverley explained. "Besides you're a local personality. Rather like someone in a book," she added a little naively. This idea seemed to amuse him too and very slightly puzzle him. But he followed Beverley up the garden path without any self-consciousness. When Aunt Ellen opened the door to them, with an expression of half-offended astonishment, Beverley wondered if she had made something of an error in inviting Franklin Lowell in. But, to her amusement and a good deal to her surprise, he immediately turned on Aunt Ellen such a battery of charm that even she produced a wintry little smile and said she was sure her sister would be happy to see him. There was, Beverley felt, something strangely ex-hilarating in the presence of this tall, good-looking, vital creature in then- small front room. And when she led the way into her mother's room, she saw reflected in Mrs. Farman's face something of her own rather breathless enjoyment of the impact of Franklin Lowell's personality on their quiet home scene. He was completely easy in his manner towards her mother, and they liked each other on the instant, Beverley saw. Indeed, after a very few moments, he 84 drew up a chair and sat down, evidently intending to stay for a time, while Beverley curled herself up at the end of the bed a..d prepared to enjoy her mother's pleasure in their unusual visitor. It was surprising how much they found to talk about. But, as a girl, Mrs. Farman had known Eithorpe Hall and its surroundings well. "I remember old Miss Eithorpe," she said reminiscently. "But she wasn't old Miss Eithorpe then, of course. Only middle-aged and quite extraordinarily difficult. She was supposed to have been crossed in love, which was reckoned to account for all her eccentricities. But I don't know that I believe much in that sort of explanation. It's so easy to blame all one's disagreeable qualities on something in the past, isn't it?" "Like the psychologists who claim that criminal behaviour in an adult is directly traceable to a welldeserved hiding when one was ten," suggested their visitor. "Oh, yes!" Mrs. Farman looked at Franklin Lowell with almost affectionate approval. Then, after a pause, she said elliptically, "I think common sense is such a nice quality, don't you?" "It's a wonderful basis for sympathetic understanding," he agreed, with a twinkle. "Has Beverley " he hesitated only a second over her name "told you that I have a picture of her when she was about twelve or thirteen?" "Yes, indeed! It's Geoffrey's picture of her, isn't it? I'm so glad you have it." "Why, Mrs. Farman?" he asked rather curiously. "I'm not quite sure. Except that you would value it for its human, Beverley-ish qualities, and not just make a fuss. about it for its artistic merits, I think. Besides, it's nice to think of anything so personal belonging to a friend, rather than a collector." "You have the most charming way of paying compliments," Franklin told her, with a laugh, as he rose to go. "I hope I may come and see you again." "Please do. You will alv ays be welcome," Mrs. 85 Farman said. And then Beverley went with him to the front door. "Is there anything to be done for her?" he en-quired, suddenly much graver than Beverley had seen him before. "She is so charming and brave." "I know. Everyone loves her.
But no, I'm afraid there isn't very much. I am sure she liked seeing you, though, and thank you so much for coming in." "Thank you for asking me," he said. Then he bade her goodbye and went out to his car. As Beverley turned back into the house again, Aunt Ellen emerged from the kitchen and uttered the first expression of unqualified approval Beverley had ever heard from her. "Now that," she said, "is what I call a man!" Then she went back into the kitchen again, to see about supper.