Celia's House

by D. E. Stevenson

  “All the better. I’m sick of people like myself… Deb, I know we’d be happy together…”

  “No,” she said with a catch in her breath. “No, we wouldn’t. We don’t like the same sort of things…”

  “We’ll wait,” said Oliver again. “It’s too soon. I was all kinds of a fool to frighten you. We’ll pretend it hasn’t happened…”

  Deb could stand no more. She escaped and ran out of the room and left Oliver standing at the table with the cue in his hand. She was more upset than she had ever been in all her life; she was almost sick with fright. When she reached the privacy of her room, Deb locked the door, and flinging herself on the bed, she buried her face in the pillow. She lay there for a long time with her heart pounding madly in her ears. It was so unexpected; it was such an extraordinary thing to happen. Even now she could scarcely believe it was true. She had enjoyed learning to play billiards and had thought it was very kind of Oliver to spend so much time and trouble over the lessons, but it had never crossed her mind that he meant anything by his attentions. They had had jokes together, of course, but that was just Oliver’s way. It was the way he had treated Joyce and Edith and probably half a dozen other girls as well. Deb had said she did not know Oliver, but she knew him well enough to guess that his path through life was strewn with broken hearts. Why did he want to marry her, Deb wondered. He could have married any of the other girls. He could have married Joyce or Edith; she knew this perfectly well. It seemed very strange that the one girl Oliver wanted to marry should be absolutely determined that she would never marry him. “Never,” whispered Deb, pressing her face into the pillow. “Never, never, never…”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Persuasion

  Deb thought it was all over. She had given Oliver to understand exactly what she felt. She had said “no” quite plainly and had not held out the slightest hope that she would change her mind. She was sorry for Oliver, of course, but it could not be helped, and he would soon get over his disappointment and fall in love with someone else. One thing was certain, thought Deb—Oliver would not come over to Dunnian anymore. She had shown him her feelings too plainly. She was a little anxious in case Uncle Humphrey and Aunt Alice might notice the sudden cessation of the billiards lessons. She would have to think of something to say when they asked her the reason of it.

  But Deb found there was no need to make excuses for Oliver’s nonappearance. Oliver came over the very next morning. He walked in, smiling cheerfully. Deb was amazed to see him; she was uncomfortable and embarrassed; she could neither speak to him naturally nor look him in the face.

  “Another billiards lesson!” exclaimed Uncle Humphrey, smiling.

  “Yes, sir,” agreed Oliver. “Deb’s coming on very well. She’s got a straight eye and a steady hand. I bet you couldn’t give her fifty up, sir.”

  It was most extraordinary, thought Deb. How could Oliver behave as if nothing had happened?

  The fact was that Oliver had not taken Deb’s refusal seriously. He knew he had surprised and shocked her, but he believed she would come around and he would get what he wanted in the end. Oliver had always gotten what he wanted, so it was difficult for him to envisage failure. He wanted Deb all the more because he had not been able to get her easily (most girls were too easy, Oliver had found).

  Oliver had spoken the truth when he said he was sick of people like himself. He had had a surfeit of smart, chattering, self-confident society girls and he found Deb a welcome change. He had been in love before, but this time it was different, for this time he wanted marriage. Deb would make a good wife. She was sweet and kind and peaceful. He would not grow tired of Deb. He could “see” himself settling down at Ryddelton with Deb and being happy in her company when the first frenzy of love was over. This was something he had never been able to envisage before.

  Oliver wanted to marry Deb, and he set about winning her with all the charm he possessed. He did not pester her with attentions; he did not force the pace. He came over to Dunnian and talked to her and gave her billiards lessons; sometimes he met her on the moor when she was out with the dogs and joined her for a walk. At first Deb was very shy with Oliver and avoided him whenever she could, but it was not easy to avoid him without being rude, and Oliver was so friendly and thoughtful and kind that she could not bring herself to be rude to him.

  Matters were in this perplexing condition when Mark unexpectedly arrived home for a short holiday. He was pale and thin, for he had been working hard.

  “Town doesn’t suit me,” said Mark when his parents commented on his appearance.

  “I knew it wouldn’t,” declared Humphrey. “It doesn’t suit me either. I feel cramped and I always eat too much. Three days in London and I’m nothing but a rag. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stand it so long.”

  Oliver was expected to dinner that evening (which was nothing very extraordinary), and when Mark heard this news he rang up Ryddelton House and suggested Tessa come too. They came over together in Oliver’s car.

  Deb had not seen Tessa for a long time, and she noted without enthusiasm that she was prettier than ever. Tessa was gay and friendly and beautifully dressed and her eyes shone like stars. Mark could not keep his eyes off her—and no wonder.

  “How did you like New Zealand?” Mark asked when they had seated themselves at the dinner table and started their meal.

  “It was marvelous,” declared Tessa. “I enjoyed every moment of it. I almost wept when we had to come away…didn’t I, Oliver?”

  “You quite wept, if I remember rightly,” Oliver replied with a smile.

  Deb could not help wishing that the Skenes had remained in New Zealand—both of them, for the rest of their lives. If they liked it so much, it seemed a pity they should have come away and left it.

  “Mark is terribly thin!” Tessa exclaimed suddenly.

  “It’s the hospital work,” replied Humphrey. “I think he should give it up and try to get something else.”

  Mark smiled. He had not been feeling well and he knew he required a good long holiday. How lovely it would be if he could spend a few months at home! Tessa was to be at Ryddelton all the summer, and Tessa was lovelier than ever.

  “It’s no use working yourself to death,” continued Humphrey, looking at Mark with affectionate anxiety.

  “You’ll just get ill,” said Tessa, nodding. “That’s what will happen, Mark.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Mark replied slowly. “Of course the hospital work is splendid experience, so I should be rather sorry to give it up.”

  “But, Mark!” cried Tessa. “It’s quite impossible to stay in London all the summer!”

  “Lots of people do,” Deb said suddenly.

  It was so seldom that Deb made a remark of this nature that everyone looked at her in surprise.

  Oliver seemed pleased. He laughed and said, “As a matter of fact, I believe several million people manage to support life in London all the year round.”

  “Debbie knew what I meant,” Tessa said crossly.

  It was rather fun to have “drawn” Tessa, but it was not worth it really, for Deb did not like Oliver’s championship any more than the reproachful glance she had received from Mark. She wished she had not spoken.

  After dinner they went into the billiards room and Oliver tried to persuade Deb to take part in the game.

  “Debbie always marks,” Tessa said as she chose a cue and chalked it in a professional manner.

  “Not always,” Oliver said with a little smile.

  “I’m not good enough,” said Deb. “Besides, you have four without me. I think I shall go sit with Aunt Alice in the drawing room.”

  “Who’s going to mark then?” Tessa inquired, but Deb had gone.

  • • •

  The Skenes left early, so there was time to take the dogs for a walk before going up to bed. Deb was in the hall, stru
ggling into her coat, when Mark came out of the drawing room. “Wait for me,” said Mark.

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “No, I want a breath of fresh air.”

  They walked down the drive together with the dogs running and jumping and circling around their feet. It was nearly dark, but the moon was rising above the tops of the trees like a silver ball and the air was warm and scented.

  “Shall we walk down to the side gate?” asked Deb.

  “That will suit me,” agreed Mark.

  For a while there was silence. It was so lovely to have Mark at home, so marvelous to be walking along beside him like this. Deb had been frightened and miserable, but now that Mark was here things would improve. She would be able to hide from Oliver behind Mark’s broad back.

  “Deb,” Mark said suddenly. “What’s this I’ve been hearing about you?” His tone was playful and affectionate, and he took her arm as he spoke.

  “Hearing about me!” Deb echoed in dismay.

  “About you and Oliver. He’s an awfully good fellow, you know. You like him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I like him.”

  “He’s very fond of you, Deb.”

  “I know,” Deb said in a small voice.

  Mark hesitated. “Of course, if you don’t love him it’s no use,” said Mark.

  “No,” agreed Deb. “No, it’s no use at all.” She felt unutterably relieved to find that Mark understood. She felt happier and more comfortable than she had felt for days. Mark understood, so it was all right. It was rather naughty of Oliver to have told Mark, but perhaps it was just as well. Mark was on her side. He understood. He would help her. “You see,” continued Deb, looking up at him and squeezing his arm. “You see, I couldn’t help it happening because I never thought for a moment—I was very sorry about it.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you were.”

  “I wish you would explain to him, Mark. I told him it was no use, but I don’t think I can have made it quite plain enough. You’ll tell him, won’t you?”

  Mark hesitated again. At last he said, “You like him, Deb. Don’t you think you might get to love him in time?”

  “Never!” cried Deb, stopping and taking her hand off Mark’s arm. “Never, never—”

  “Deb! That isn’t like you! He’s desperately in love with you. He wants you to give him a chance—that’s all. He’s willing to wait. Just give him a chance to—to—”

  “No, Mark. It wouldn’t be any use—”

  “But why?”

  “Because—because I know it wouldn’t. It’s much kinder to say so at the very beginning, isn’t it?”

  “That depends,” replied Mark, smiling down at her affectionately. “You see, Oliver is quite willing to take the risk. He wants to be friends with you. He thinks that if you got to know him better you might change your mind—and I think so too. I know you, Deb. You’re such a funny little creature; you’re frightened of anything new. Do you remember how miserable you were when you first came to Dunnian, and then, gradually, you grew to love Dunnian dearly. You see what I mean, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but it isn’t the same.”

  “I think you should give Oliver a chance.”

  “It wouldn’t be any use,” Deb said desperately.

  “Have you thought about it?” asked Mark, taking her hand. “You would be settled quite near Dunnian, you know—quite near all your friends. Oliver succeeds to Ryddelton House when Lady Skene dies. It’s a lovely place, Deb. Of course I know that doesn’t really count compared with other things but—but—”

  “It doesn’t count,” said Deb.

  They walked on.

  “You aren’t in love with anyone else, are you?” Mark asked with sudden anxiety.

  “It isn’t anything like that,” said Deb, turning away her head. “It’s because we’re absolutely unsuited to each other, because we have different thoughts and feelings and look at things from a different point of view. We should never be happy together, never.”

  Mark was silenced, but only for a moment. He said, “I know what you mean, Deb. Oliver is pretty lively and he likes having fun—”

  “He behaved very badly to Edith—if you call that fun.”

  “To Edith!” exclaimed Mark. “You mean Joyce. I thought at one time he liked Joyce, but there was nothing in it, nothing at all. He loves you, Deb. He wants to marry you and settle down. All that sort of thing is over.”

  Deb said nothing.

  “Tessa was talking about you,” Mark continued after a short silence. “She said I was to give you her love and tell you that she wants you as a sister. She spoke so nicely of you, but of course I could see she was surprised and hurt. She thinks the world of Oliver.”

  This was too much. It roused Deb and she replied with spirit. “Really, Mark, I never heard such nonsense. They never bothered about me before—either of them. I might have been a table or a chair for all the notice they took of me. Why should they be surprised because I didn’t fall in love with Oliver all of a sudden and fling myself into his arms the moment he asked me? I had seen the way he behaved to Edith and Joyce and at that time I was less than the dust. I was utterly amazed when he began to take notice of me—”

  Mark laughed and pressed her arm. “That’s just it,” he declared. “You’re such a little mouse that people don’t notice you. When they begin to notice you, they realize what a darling you are. That’s just what happened to Oliver.”

  Deb said nothing in reply and presently Mark began to talk about Tessa. This was a relief in one way but not in another.

  • • •

  Things had reached a stage where it was impossible to conceal them any longer, and Uncle Humphrey and Aunt Alice became aware of what had happened. Uncle Humphrey said very little, but Deb knew he shared Mark’s opinion and hoped she would change her mind. (He liked Oliver. Oliver was a very good match. There was nothing against the marriage.) Aunt Alice’s feelings were mixed; she aired them constantly.

  “Of course I don’t want you to get married,” Aunt Alice would begin—she always began that way. “I should miss you dreadfully; in fact, I don’t know what I should do without you.”

  “I’m not going to get married,” Deb would assure her.

  “No, dear, but if you were going to marry anyone, I would rather it was Oliver because you would be settled quite near.”

  “I don’t intend to marry anyone.”

  “You must marry someday. You wouldn’t like to be an old maid, would you, Debbie? Oliver is very nice. He used to be rather inconsiderate and difficult to understand, but he has improved immensely. It was nice of him to bring me that book, wasn’t it? I just mentioned that I hadn’t been able to get it from the library and the next day he went and bought it and brought it over for me. He would make a very good husband, I think.”

  “I’m sure he will—but not to me. I don’t love him, Aunt Alice.”

  “No. Well, of course it’s no use if you don’t love him, dear. Humphrey said I wasn’t to press you, and of course I don’t want to press you because I should miss you so dreadfully—”

  Deb did not thrive in an atmosphere of disapproval. Nobody pestered her, of course, and, once she had made her intentions clear, nobody tried to persuade her to alter them, but she was so sensitive that the mere fact of knowing that she was doing something her friends considered foolish made her miserable. It was at that moment that a letter arrived from her grandmother asking her to come to Bournemouth for a few weeks, and Deb decided to go. She had been asked before, several times, but she had never been able to make up her mind to leave Dunnian. It was different now. Perhaps if she went away for a few weeks Oliver would find someone else and everything would be quite comfortable again.

  Oliver came over the evening before her departure and inveigled her into the library for a chat.

  “You’re runni
ng away,” he said, smiling at her. “There’s no need to run away from me. I shan’t bother you, Deb.”

  “You are bothering me,” she replied. “Everyone is bothering me.”

  “I’ll tell them not to,” said Oliver. “You know, Deb, I’m not asking you for much—just for us to be friends.”

  “If it were only that!”

  “I’ve said it’s only that.”

  “But you don’t mean it.”

  “Deb, listen—”

  “No, I won’t,” she declared. “We aren’t suited to each other. I like you quite a lot, but I don’t love you and I don’t want to marry you.” Surely that was clear enough, thought Deb. Surely Oliver would understand that.

  “You like me quite a lot; that’s a good beginning,” Oliver said cheerfully.

  Deb laughed—she couldn’t help it—and Oliver laughed too. Oliver really was rather a dear. She was aware that if she had been heart-whole she might not have been able to resist him. She thought suddenly: if Mark and Tessa…then perhaps…because then it wouldn’t matter…then nothing would matter anymore, and she would just have to try to build some sort of life for herself out of the broken pieces…and if Oliver were willing to have her on those terms…knowing everything…

  “I’ll wait,” Oliver was saying. “I’ll wait years if necessary, and, meantime, I’ll be very, very good. I’ve started to be good already and I’m up to my eyes in work connected with the estate. New roofs for the cottages, new drains—all that sort of thing pleases you, doesn’t it? Think of all the things we could do if only you would help me—but no, we’re not going to say another word about it. We’re just going to be friends.”

  • • •

  In spite of the fact that Deb was leaving of her own accord, her last view of Dunnian was blurred by a mist of tears. She was leaving everything and everybody she loved and going to a strange place. She knew quite well that when she returned to Dunnian, Mark and Tessa would be officially engaged—there was no doubt about it in Deb’s mind—and they would not be happy, or at least not for long. Sooner or later Mark would find out what Tessa was like, but he would not find out until she became careless…