by Elinor Glyn
BRANCHES,
Saturday afternoon, _November 5th._
This morning I woke with a headache, to see the rain beating against mywindows, and mist and fog--a fitting day for the 5th of November. I wouldnot go down to breakfast. Veronique brought me mine to my sitting-roomfire, and, with Spartan determination, I packed steadily all the morning.
About twelve a note came up from Lord Robert. I put it in.
DEAR MISS TRAVERS,--
Why are you hiding? Was I a bore last night? Do forgive me and come down. Has Christopher locked you in your room? I will murder the brute if he has!
Yours very sincerely,
ROBERT VAVASOUR.
"Can't; I am packing," I scribbled in pencil on the envelope, and gaveit back to Charles, who was waiting in the hall for the answer. Twominutes after, Lord Robert walked into the room, the door of which thefootman had left open.
"I have come to help you," he said, in that voice of his that sounds sosure of a welcome you can't snub him. "But where are you going?"
"I don't know," I said, a little forlornly, and then bent down andvigorously collected photographs.
"Oh, but you can't go to London by yourself!" he said, aghast. "Lookhere, I will come up with you, and take you to my aunt, Lady Merrenden.She is such a dear, and I am sure when I have told her all about you shewill be delighted to take care of you for some days until you can huntround."
He looked such a boy, and his face was so kind, I was touched.
"Oh no, Lord Robert! I cannot do that, but I thank you. I don't want tobe under an obligation to any one," I said, firmly. "Mr. Carrutherssuggests a way out of the difficulty--that I should marry him, and stayhere. I don't think he means it, really, but he pretends he does."
He sat down on the edge of a table already laden with books, most ofwhich overbalanced and fell crash on the floor.
"So Christopher wants you to marry him--the old fox?" he said,apparently oblivious of the wreck of literature he had caused. "But youwon't do that, will you? And yet I have no business to say that. He is adam good friend, Christopher."
"I am sure you ought not to swear so often, Lord Robert; it shocks me,brought up as I have been," I said, with the air of a little angel.
"Do I swear?" he asked, surprised. "Oh no, I don't think so--at least,there is no 'n' to the end of the 'dams,' so they are only an innocentornament to conversation. But I won't do it, if you don't wish me to."
After that he helped me with the books, and was so merry and kind I soonfelt cheered up, and by lunchtime all were finished and in the boxesready to be tied up and taken away. Veronique, too, had made greatprogress in the adjoining room, and was standing stiff and _maussade_ bymy dressing-table when I came in. She spoke respectfully in French, andasked me if I had made my plans yet, for, as she explained to me, herown position seemed precarious, and yet, having been with me for fiveyears, she did not feel she could leave me at a juncture like this. Atthe same time she hoped mademoiselle would make some suitable decision,as she feared, respectfully, it was "une si drole de position pour unedemoiselle du monde," alone with "ces messieurs."
I could not be angry; it was quite true what she said.
"I shall go up this evening to Claridge's, Veronique," I assuredher--"by about the 5.15 train. We will wire to them after luncheon."
She seemed comforted, but she added--in the abstract--that a richmarriage was what was obviously mademoiselle's fate, and she felt suregreat happiness and many jewels would await mademoiselle if mademoisellecould be persuaded to make up her mind. Nothing is sacred from one'smaid. She knew all about Mr. Carruthers, of course. Poor old Veronique!I have a big, warm corner for her in my heart. Sometimes she treats mewith the frigid respect one would pay to a queen, and at others I amalmost her _enfant_, so tender and motherly she is to me. And she putsup with all my tempers and moods, and pets me like a baby just when I amthe worst of all.
Lord Robert had left me reluctantly when the luncheon gong sounded.
"Haven't we been happy?" he said, taking it for granted I felt the sameas he did. This is a very engaging quality of his, and makes one feelsympathetic, especially when he looks into one's eyes with his sleepyblue ones. He has lashes as long and curly as a gypsy's baby.
Mr. Carruthers was alone in the dining-room when I got in; he waslooking out of the window, and turned round sharply as I came up theroom. I am sure he would like to have been killing flies on the panes ifhe had been a boy. His eyes were steel.
"Where have you been all the time?" he asked, when he had shaken handsand said good-morning.
"Up in my room, packing," I said, simply. "Lord Robert was so kind hehelped me. We have got everything done; and may I order the carriage forthe 5.15 train, please?"
"Certainly not. Confound Lord Robert!" Mr. Carruthers said. "Whatbusiness is it of his? You are not to go. I won't let you. Dear, sillylittle child!--" his voice was quite moved. "You can't possibly go outinto the world all alone. Evangeline, why won't you marry me? I--do youknow, I believe--I shall love you----"
"I should have to be _perfectly sure_ that the person I married lovedme, Mr. Carruthers," I said, demurely, "before I consented to finish upmy life like that."
He had no time to answer, for Mr. Barton and Lord Robert came into theroom.
There seemed a gloom over luncheon. There were pauses, and Lord Roberthad a more pathetic expression than ever. His hands are a niceshape--but so are Mr. Carruthers's; they both look very much likegentlemen.
Before we had finished, a note was brought in to me. It was from LadyKatherine Montgomerie. She was too sorry, she said, to hear of my lonelyposition, and she was writing to ask if I would not come over and spenda fortnight with them at Tryland Court.
It was not well worded, and I had never cared much for Lady Katherine,but it was fairly kind, and fitted in perfectly with my plans.
She had probably heard of Mr. Carruthers's arrival, and was scandalizedat my being alone in the house with him.
Both men had their eyes fixed on my face when I looked up, as I finishedreading the note.
"Lady Katherine Montgomerie writes to ask me to Tryland," I said. "So ifyou will excuse me I will answer it, and say I will come thisafternoon," and I got up.
Mr. Carruthers rose, too, and followed me into the library. Hedeliberately shut the door and came over to the writing-table where Isat down.
"Well, if I let you go, will you tell her then that you are engaged tome, and I am going to marry you as soon as possible?"
"No, indeed I won't," I said, decidedly. "I am not going to marry you,or any one, Mr. Carruthers. What do you think of me? Fancy my consentingto come back here forever, and live with you, when I don't know you abit! And having to put up with your--perhaps--kissing me,and--and--things of that sort. It is perfectly dreadful to think of!"
He laughed as if in spite of himself. "But supposing I promised not tokiss you?"
"Even so," I said, and I couldn't help biting the end of my pen. "Itcould happen that I might get a feeling I wanted to kiss some oneelse--and there it is! Once you're married, everything nice is wrong!"
"Evangeline! I won't let you go--out of my life--you strange littlewitch! You have upset me, disturbed me--I can settle to nothing. I seemto want you so very much."
"Pouf!" I said, and I pouted at him.
"You have everything in your life to fill it--position, riches, friends.You don't want a green-eyed adventuress."
I bent down and wrote steadily to Lady Katherine. I would be there aboutsix o'clock, I said, and thanked her in my best style.
"If I let you go, it is only for the time," Mr. Carruthers said as Isigned my name. "I _intend_ you to marry me--do you hear?"
"Again I say, 'Qui vivre verra!'" I laughed and rose with the note in myhand.
Lord Robert looked almost ready to cry when I told him
I was off in theafternoon.
"I shall see you again," he said. "Lady Katherine is a relation of myaunt's husband, Lord Merrenden. I don't know her myself, though."
I do not believe him. How can he see me again? Young men do talk a lotof nonsense!
"I shall come over on Wednesday to see how you are getting on," Mr.Carruthers said. "Please do be in."
I promised I would, and then I came up-stairs.
And so it has come to an end, my life at Branches. I am going to start anew phase of existence, my first beginning as an adventuress!
How completely all one's ideas can change in a few days! This day threeweeks ago Mrs. Carruthers was alive. This day two weeks ago I foundmyself no longer a prospective heiress, and only three days ago I wascontemplating calmly the possibility of marrying Mr. Carruthers; andnow, for heaven, I would not marry any one! And so, for fresh woods andpastures new! Oh, I want to see the world, and lots of different humanbeings; I want to know what it is makes the clock go round--that greatbig clock of life. I want to dance and to sing and to laugh, and to_live_--and--and--yes, perhaps some day to kiss some one I love!