_ CHAPTER XIV. 'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'
'Thou must not be hurt at a well-meaning friend,
though he shake thee somewhat roughly by the
shoulder to awake thee.'
Quentin Durward.
Half an hour later Audrey had finished her game, and had resisted all her partner's pleadings to give their opponents their revenge. She might feel tempted--Mr. Blake played so splendidly--but she knew her duty to her guests better than that.
'You must get another partner,' she said, with something of her sister's decision. 'Here is Miss Fortescue; she has been sitting out a long time, and she is a very good player. Gertrude'--raising her voice--'Mr. Blake wants a partner. I am sure you will take pity on him.' And in this manner Gertrude obtained her wish.
Perhaps she would rather have had her desire gratified in a different manner--if Mr. Blake had asked her himself, for example. She was not quite pleased at the tone in which he professed himself delighted to play with Miss Fortescue; he fetched her racket a little reluctantly, when Audrey pointed it out, and there was certainly no enthusiasm visible in his manner as he suggested that Miss Cardell and her partner were waiting for them.
'Do you know where my mother and Miss Ross have gone?' he asked, as they took their place.
'Mrs. Blake asked Miss Ross to show her the pond. They are waiting for you to serve, Mr. Blake;' and then Cyril did consent to throw himself into the game. Miss Fortescue was a good-looking girl, and played well, but she was not Miss Ross; nevertheless, Cyril had no intention of accepting a beating, and he was soon playing as brilliantly as ever.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Blake was talking after her usual rapid fashion.
'What beautiful grounds! and so tastefully laid out, too. I have never seen such a garden. I do love this succession of terraces, and those trees with white leaves just striped with pink--what do you call them, Miss Ross?'
Audrey told her they were white maple.
'Dear me! Did Dr. Ross plant them? They do look so well against that dark background of trees. Everything is in such perfect taste and order, and Cyril says it is the same in the house. The Bryces' establishment was not half so well regulated. He declares Dr. Ross has a master-mind, and, now I have talked to him, I am quite sure Cyril is right.'
'You must not expect me to contradict you. I think there is no one like my father.'
'I daresay not. He is charming--positively charming! So this is the pond Kester and Mollie rave about? What a sweet little place--so still and so retired! But of course you can see the house from it. Is not that your cousin, Captain Burnett?'--as they came in sight of the bench. 'It is very much like him.'
'Yes, of course it is Michael!' and Audrey quickened her steps in surprise. 'My dear Michael, when did you get back? No one knows of your arrival.'
'I daresay not,' he returned somewhat gravely, as he shook hands with her and bowed to Mrs. Blake. 'I only got in half an hour ago, and, having no mind to mingle with the crowd, I sat here to get cool.'
'Have you had some tea, Michael?'
'Oh yes; Parker brought me some. Never mind me. How have you been getting on?' looking at her attentively.
'Oh, very well.' But Audrey blushed a little uneasily under that kind look. 'Mrs. Blake, I believe you have not met my cousin before?'
'I think we have met, Audrey.'
'To be sure we have!' responded Mrs. Blake, with her brightest smile. 'I am so glad of this opportunity of speaking to you, Captain Burnett. I hope Miss Ross gave you my message?'
'I don't believe I have had any message--have I, Audrey?' And Audrey laughed a little guiltily; she did not always remember people's messages.
Mrs. Blake shook her head at her.
'Oh, you traitress!' she exclaimed playfully. 'And I thought you, of all people, were to be trusted. Captain Burnett, I must give my own message. I want to thank you for your kindness to my poor boy.'
'He is not poor at all,' he replied lightly; but his keen blue eyes seemed to take the measure, mental and physical, of the graceful-looking woman before him. 'He is a very clever fellow, and will make his mark. I can assure you I quite envy him his brains.'
'It makes me so proud to hear you say that. I often wonder why my children are so clever; their father'--she checked herself, and then went on in a more subdued key--'my poor husband had only average talents, and as for me----' She left her sentence unfinished in a most expressive way.
'Mollie says you are clever too, Mrs. Blake.'
'My dear Miss Ross, then Mollie--bless her little heart!--is wrong. Is it my fault if those foolish children choose to swear by their mother? Cleverness does not consist in chattering a little French and Italian--does it, Captain Burnett? You and I know better than that, and it will always be a lasting wonder to me why I have a son like my Cyril.'
'You have two sons, Mrs. Blake.'
Something indefinable in Michael's tone made Mrs. Blake redden for a moment; then she recovered herself.
'Yes, thank God! I have; but a widow's eldest son is always her prop. Kester is a mere boy; he cannot help his mother much yet.'
'Kester is nearly sixteen, and will soon be a man; he is already very thoughtful for his age. I am sure you will permit me to say that I already take great interest in him; he has a wonderful thirst for knowledge. I showed one of his translations to Dr. Ross, and he was quite struck by it. You know, Dr. Ross is a fine Greek scholar.'
Mrs. Blake seemed much impressed; she was evidently taken aback. She was generally so absorbed in her eldest son that she failed to give Kester his due. The boy was shy and retiring with her; very likely he felt himself unappreciated. Anyhow, it was certain that he sought sympathy from everyone but his mother; and yet, in her own way, she was kind to him.
Audrey was a little disappointed to find Michael so grave in his manner to her charming friend--for such she already considered Mrs. Blake. Michael was generally so nice and genial with people; he did not seem in the least aware that he was talking to a pretty woman. In Audrey's opinion, he seemed disposed to pick holes in Mrs. Blake's words and to find matter for argument. Not that this would be apparent to anyone but herself; but then she knew Michael so well. She could always tell in a moment if he approved or disapproved of anyone. One thing was clear enough to her, that Mrs. Blake was not at her ease. She lost her gay fluency, and hesitated for a word now and then; and when they left the lake and walked towards the tennis-ground, and Cyril intercepted them, she gave him an appealing look to draw him to her side. But for once Cyril was blind to his mother's wishes. He shook hands with Captain Burnett, and then fell behind to speak to Audrey.
'Do you mean to say that you have finished your game already?' she asked, in some surprise.
'No, indeed; only Mrs. Fortescue discovered that it was late, and took her daughter away, and, of course, I could not beat them single-handed--Wheeler is a crack player--so we made up our mind to consider it a drawn game. You ought not to have thrown me over, Miss Ross,' dropping his voice; 'it was hardly kind, was it?'
'Would you have me play with you and neglect all my other guests?' she returned, smiling. 'I think you owe me some gratitude for providing you with a partner like Gertrude Fortescue. She is one of our best players.'
'I would rather have kept the partner I had,' he replied, with unwonted obstinacy; 'even in tennis one prefers one's own selection. I played the first set far better.'
'I believe you are a little cross with me, Mr. Blake.'
'I!' startled by this accusation, although it was playfully made, and reddening to his temples; 'I have no right to take such a liberty. No man in his senses could be cross with you for a moment.'
'You are wrong. Michael is often cross with me.'
'Is he?' slackening his pace, and so compelling her to do the same, until there were several yards between them and the couple in front. 'Captain Burnett seems to me far too good-natured; I should have said there was not a spark of temper about him. I am rather hasty myself.'
'I am so glad you have warned me in time, Mr. Blake.'
'Why, do you meditate any special provocation?' Then, catching sight of her dimple, his own face relaxed. 'I see you are laughing at me. I am afraid I was not properly gracious to Miss Fortescue. I will make up for it on Thursday at the Charringtons', and ask her to play. You will be there?' with a note of anxiety in his voice.
'Oh yes; I shall be there, of course.'
'We must have one set together; you will promise me that?' and Cyril's dark eyes looked full into hers.
'Yes, certainly.' But Audrey blushed a little. She felt a sudden desire to hurry after the others; but her companion evidently held a different opinion.
'Do you know Mrs. Charrington has asked my mother to come too?'
'No, indeed; but I am so glad to hear it.'
'She was most kind about it: she has promised to call on her to-morrow. My mother is so pleased. Does she not look happy, Miss Ross? She is so fond of this sort of thing--a dull life never suits her. She nearly moped herself to death at Headingly; we were all uncomfortable there.'
'I think she will get on with the Rutherford people.'
'Indeed I hope so. Miss Ross, do you know, I am so vexed about something my mother said the other afternoon, when Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Harcourt were calling on her.' And as Audrey looked mystified, he went on slowly: 'She actually told them that she would accept no evening engagements, and that she hoped no one would invite her to dinner.'
'Oh yes, I remember.'
'I am afraid they must have thought it very strange. I tell my mother that she is far too frank and outspoken for our civilised age, and that there is not the slightest need to flaunt our poverty in our neighbours' faces.'
Cyril spoke with an air of unmistakable annoyance, and Audrey good-naturedly hastened to soothe him. Her fine instinct told her that his stronger and more reticent nature must often be wounded by his mother's indiscreet tongue.
'I am afraid you are a little worldly-minded, Mr. Blake. I consider your mother was far more honest.'
'Thank you,' in a low tone; 'but all the same,' returning to his usual manner, 'it was premature and absurd to make such a statement. My mother has to do as I like,' throwing back his handsome head with a sort of wilfulness that Audrey thought very becoming, 'and I intend her to go out. Miss Ross, I am going to ask you a very odd question, but there is no other lady to whom I can put such an inquiry. Does it cost so very much--I mean, how much does it cost--for a lady to be properly dressed for the evening?'
Audrey did not dare to laugh, Cyril was so evidently in earnest; her nice tact guarded her from making such a grievous mistake.
'Your question is a little vague, Mr. Blake; I hardly know what I am to understand by it. Do you mean evening dress for one dinner-party or a succession of dinner-parties? You know they are perpetual in Rutherford; every house invites every other house to dinner. In Rutherford we are terribly given to dining out.'
'Oh, I see; and relays of gowns would be required,' returned Cyril in a dejected voice. 'I am afraid I must give it up, then. My mother would certainly not be able to afford that for the present.'
'But when one wears black, a change of dress is not so necessary,' interrupted Audrey eagerly. 'If I were poor, I should not allow poverty to debar me from the society of my fellow-creatures, just because I could not make as great a display as other people. No, indeed; I would not be the slave of my clothes.'
'I can believe that,' with an admiring glance.
'I would have one good black dress--and it should be as nice as my means would allow--and I would wear it everywhere, and I would not care a bit if people looked as though they recognised it. "You are noticing my gown!" I would say to them. "Yes, it is an old friend. Old friends are better than new, and I mean to cling to mine. By and by, when I am a little richer, I will buy another."'
'Miss Ross, if my mother could but hear you!'
'Tell her what I say, and bid her do the same. Black suits her so perfectly, too.'
'Oh, she never means to wear anything else but black,' he returned gravely.
'Let her get a soft silk--a Surah, for example--and if it be made prettily and in the newest fashion, it will look well for a long time. Yes'--reflectively--'Mrs. Blake would look well in Surah.'
'Would she? Do you mind telling me how to spell it?' and Cyril produced his pocket-book.
'S-u-r-a-h.'
'Thank you a thousand times, Miss Ross! And about the cost--would five pounds do?' looking at her anxiously.
'Oh yes, I should say that would do,' replied Audrey, who in reality knew very little about it.
Mr. Blake would have done better to have consulted Geraldine, she thought. Geraldine would have told him the price to a fraction of a shilling; she would have directed him to the best shop for making an excellent bargain. Geraldine had a genius for these practical things, whereas she--Audrey--was liable to make mistakes.
'I am sure five pounds will do,' she repeated, by way of encouragement; and again Cyril thanked her fervently.
There was no more opportunity for carrying on this interesting discussion, for the others were now standing quite still in the shrubbery walk, waiting for them to join them.
'My dearest boy, everyone has gone!' exclaimed Mrs. Blake, in a tone of dismay. 'The tennis-lawn is empty!'
'What does that matter?' replied Audrey, hastening up to her with a heightened colour, as she noticed a quick, observant look on Michael's part. 'We have no rule for our Mondays; people come when they like, and stay as long as they like.'
'But, still, to be the last to go, and this my first visit to Woodcote!' rejoined Mrs. Blake uneasily. 'Cyril, you ought to have taken me away long ago.'
'We will make our adieux now,' he returned carelessly, and not at all affected by his mother's discomposure. 'Come, mother, I see Mrs. Ross standing in the drawing-room window; she is evidently waiting for us.' And Cyril drew his mother's hand through his arm.
Audrey and Michael followed them to the gate. Mrs. Blake kissed Audrey with some effusion. Audrey, who, in spite of her large heart and wide sympathies, was not a demonstrative person, would willingly have dispensed with this little attention before the gentlemen. Mrs. Blake had never offered to embrace her before. She had an idea, too, that Cyril was not quite pleased.
'Come, come, mother,' he said impatiently, 'we are detaining Miss Ross;' and he hurried her away.
Audrey would have returned to the house at once, but Michael asked her to take another turn in the shrubbery.
'For I have not seen you for a whole week,' he grumbled; 'and it is hardly possible to get a word with you now.'
'Well, you have me now,' she returned with assumed gaiety; but all the time she wanted to be alone and think what Mr. Blake's parting look meant. 'It was so--so----' Audrey could not quite find the word. 'And now, Michael, I am ready.' Audrey was going to say, 'I am ready to hear your opinion of Mrs. Blake;' but just at that moment she saw her father coming to meet them.
Two is company, but three is none, as both Michael and Audrey felt at that moment. Dr. Ross, on the contrary, joined them with the air of a man who knows himself to be an acquisition. He tucked his daughter's hand under his arm, and began questioning Michael about his week in town.
As it happened, Michael had seen and done a good deal, and Audrey was soon interested in what he had to tell them. She knew all Michael's friends by name, and in this way could claim acquaintance with a large circle. She was soon busily questioning him in her turn. Had he seen that pretty little Mrs. Maddox? and was the baby christened? and who was the second godfather? and so on, until the gong warned them to disperse.
The conversation at dinner ran on the same topics, but just before they rose from the table Mrs. Ross asked Michael if he did not admire Mrs. Blake.
'Very much, indeed,' he returned, without a moment's hesitation. 'She has three very excellent points for a woman: she is pretty, lively, and amusing. I had quite a long talk with her.' And then he changed the subject--whether intentionally or unintentionally Audrey could not tell--and began telling them about a picture one of his friends was painting for the next Exhibition.
Michael was very much engaged the next few days. He had told Kester to come to him every morning that week, to make up for the lessons he had lost, and as a succession of garden-parties occupied Audrey's afternoons, she did not find time for one of those confidential chats with Michael which they both so much enjoyed. When Thursday came Michael escorted her to the Charringtons' garden-party. Mrs. Ross and her husband were to come later.
Audrey was amongst the tennis-players, but, as she passed to and fro with her various partners, she saw Michael more than once talking to Mrs. Blake. The first time he gave her a nod and a smile, but when she passed them again he seemed too much engrossed with Mrs. Blake's lively conversation to notice her.
Audrey had just finished her second game with Mr. Blake, and he was taking her to the house in search of refreshments. As Audrey ate her strawberries, she wondered a little over Michael's abstraction.
'He certainly seems to admire her,' she said to herself.
Michael and she were to dine at Hillside that evening, and as they walked home together in the summer moonlight Audrey bethought herself at last of asking that question.
'Michael, I want you to tell me what you think of Mrs. Blake? I am quite sure you like her very much indeed.'
'You are wrong, then. I wonder what put such a notion in your head--because I was talking to her so much this afternoon? That was more her fault than mine. No, Audrey; I am sorry to say it, but I do not like Mrs. Blake at all.'
'Michael!' and Audrey stood still in the road. This was a shock indeed! She was prepared for criticism: Michael always criticised her friends; he felt it a part of his duty; but this utter disapprobation was so unexpected; it was crushing--absolutely crushing! Michael, too, whose opinion she trusted so entirely! 'Oh, I hope you don't mean it--that you are only joking,' she said, so earnestly that he felt a little sorry for his abruptness; but it was too late to retract; besides, Michael never retracted.
'I am sorry you asked me the question; but I am bound to tell you the truth, you know.'
'And is it really the truth?' she asked a little piteously. 'It is very soon for you to have made up your mind that you do not like her; why, you have only spoken to her twice.'
'Yes; but I have had plenty of time to form my opinion of her. Look here, Audrey, you must not be vexed with me. I would not have found fault with your fair friend if you had not asked my opinion. Of course I admire her; one has seldom seen a prettier woman, and her style is so uncommon, too.'
'Don't, Michael; you will be praising her hair and complexion next, as Gertrude Fortescue did the other afternoon. It is the woman, Mrs. Blake herself, I want you to like.'
'Ah, just so!'
'And now I am so disappointed. Somehow I never enjoy my friends quite so much if you do not care for them. I thought we always liked the same people, but now----' Here Audrey stopped. She felt vexed and mortified; she did want Michael to share her interest in the Blakes.
'And now you will look on me as a broken reed; but, after all, I am not so bad. I like Kester--he is a fine fellow; and I like your little friend Mollie--she is true as steel; and,' after a moment's pause, 'I like Mr. Blake.'
'Are you quite sure of that, Michael?'
'Yes, I am quite sure of it. If I know anything of human nature, Mr. Blake is worthy of my esteem: as far as any man is good, he is good. And then he has such splendid capabilities.'
Audrey felt vaguely that this was generous on Michael's part; and yet she could not have told herself why it was generous. If she had had an idea of the truth! But as yet she was only dimly conscious of the nobility of Michael's nature.
'Mr. Blake is clever,' he continued, 'but he does not think much of himself; it is rare to find such modesty in a young man of the present day. Still, he is very young; one can hardly tell what he may become.'
'Father says he is three-and-twenty, Michael.'
'Still, Audrey, a man's character is not always fully developed at three-and-twenty; at that age I was a conceited cub. I am seven-and-thirty now, and I feel my opinions are as settled as Dr. Ross's are.'
'I wish you would not always talk as though you were father's contemporary; it is so absurd, Michael, when everyone else thinks you a young man!'
'I am a very old young man,' he returned with a whimsical smile; 'I have aged prematurely, and my wisdom has developed at the same rapid rate. Amongst my other gifts I have that of second-sight.'
'Indeed!' with incredulous scorn. 'You are not very humble in your own estimation.'
'My dear, old young men are never humble. Well, my gift of second-sight has put me up to a thing or two. Do you know,' turning away and switching the hedgerows carelessly as he spoke, 'I should be very sorry if any girl in whom I took a deep interest were to be thrown too much into Mr. Blake's company.'
Audrey faced round on her cousin in extreme surprise.
'You are very incomprehensible to-night, Michael: at one moment you praise Mr. Blake, and say nice things about him, and the next minute you are warning people against becoming intimate with him--that is surely very inconsistent.'
'Oh, there is method in my madness,' he returned quietly. 'I have nothing to say against the young man himself. As far as I can tell, there is no harm in him; but he is so young, and is such a devoted son, that he is likely to be influenced by his mother.'
'And it is on her account that you would dislike any such intimacy? Oh, Michael,' very sorrowfully, 'I had no idea you would dislike her so!'
'It seems rather unreasonable--such a pretty woman, too. On the whole, I think I do like talking to her, she is so amusing. But, Audrey, I must say one thing: you are always talking about her frankness. Now, I do not agree with you.'
'I don't understand you, Michael. I have never known anyone so outspoken.'
'Outspoken--yes. Well, I will explain myself. You are frank, Audrey; you hide nothing, because there is nothing to hide; and if there were, you would not hide it. Now, Mrs. Blake has her reserves; with all her impulsiveness, she has thorough self-command, and would never say a word more than suited her own purposes. It is her pleasure to indulge in a wild, picturesque sort of talk; it is effective, and pleases people; and Mrs. Blake, in common with other pretty women, likes to please. There is no positive harm in it--perhaps not, but it detracts from reality.'
'But, Michael, I like to please people too.'
'Certainly you do. Have I not often called you a little hypocrite for pretending to like what other people like! How often have we fallen out on that point! But you and Mrs. Blake are very different people, my dear; with all your faults, your friends would not wish to see you changed.'
But the dark shade of the shrubbery walk they were just entering hid the strangely tender look that was in Michael's eyes as he said the last words. _