One Of Them. Lever Charles James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Now, Charles, on his side, was very fond of his cousin. If he was n’t in love with her, it was because he did n’t very well understand what being in love meant; he had a notion, indeed, that it implied giving up hunting and coursing, having no dogs, not caring for the Derby, or even opening “Punch” or smoking a cigar. Well, he could, he believed, submit to much, perhaps all, of these, but he could n’t, at least he did n’t fancy he could, be “spooney.” He came to Mrs. Morris with confessions of this kind, and she undertook to consider his case.

      Lastly, there was Sir William to consult her about his son and his ward. He saw several nice and difficult points in their so-called engagement which would require the delicate hand of a clever woman; and where could he find one more to the purpose than Mrs. Penthony Morris?

      With a skill all her own, she contrived to have confidential intercourse almost every day with each of the family. If she wished to see Sir William, it was only to pretend to write a letter, or look for some volume in the library, and she was sure to meet him. May was always in her own drawing-room, or the flower-garden adjoining it; and Charles passed his day rambling listlessly about the stables and the farm-yard, or watching the peasants at their work beneath the olive-trees. To aid her plans, besides, Clara could always be despatched to occupy and engage the attention of some other. Not indeed, that Clara was as she used to be. Far from it. The merry, light-hearted, capricious child, with all her strange and wayward ways, was changed into a thoughtful, pensive girl, loving to be alone and unnoticed. So far from exhibiting her former dislike to study, she was now intensely eager for it, passing whole days and great part of the night at her books. There was about her that purpose-like intentness that showed a firm resolve to learn. Nor was it alone in this desire for acquirement that she was changed, but her whole temper and disposition seemed altered. She had grown more gentle and more obedient. If her love of praise was not less, she accepted it with more graceful modesty, and appeared to feel it rather as a kindness than an acknowledged debt. The whole character of her looks, too, had altered. In place of the elfin sprightliness of her ever-laughing eyes, their expression was soft even to sadness; her voice, that once had the clear ringing of a melodious bell, had grown low, and with a tender sweetness that gave to each word a peculiar grace.

      “What is the matter with Clara?” said Sir William, as he found himself, one morning, alone with Mrs. Morris in the library. “She never sings now, and she does not seem the same happy creature she used to be.”

      “Can you not detect the cause of this, Sir William?” said her mother, with a strange sparkle in her eyes.

      “I protest I cannot. It is not, surely, that she is unhappy here?”

      “No, no, very far from that.”

      “It cannot be ill health, for she is the very picture of the contrary.”

      “No, no,” said her mother again.

      “What can it be?”

      “Say, rather, who?” broke in Mrs. Morris, “and I ‘ll tell you.”

      “Who, then? Tell me by all means.”

      “Mr. Layton. Yes, Sir William, this is his doing. I have remarked it many a day back. You are aware, of course, how sedulously he endeavors to make himself acceptable in another quarter?”

      “What do you mean? What quarter? Surely you do not allude to my ward?”

      “You certainly do not intend me to believe that you have not seen this, Sir William?”

      “I declare not only that I have never seen, but never so much as suspected it. And have you seen it, Mrs. Morris?”

      “Ah! Sir William, this is our woman’s privilege, though really in the present case it did not put the faculty to any severe test.”

      For a moment or two he made no reply, and then said, “And Charles – has Charles remarked it?”

      “I really cannot tell you. His manner is usually so easy and indifferent about everything, that, whether it comes of not seeing or never caring, I cannot pretend to guess.”

      “I asked the young man here, because he was with Lord Agincourt,” began Sir William, who was most eager to offer some apologies to himself for any supposed indiscretion. “Agincourt’s guardian, Lord Sommerville, and myself have had some unpleasant passages in life, and I wished to show the boy that towards him I bore no memory of the ills I received from his uncle. In fact, I was doubly civil and attentive on that account; but as for Mr. Layton, – isn’t that his name?”

      “Yes; Alfred Layton.”

      “Layton came as the lad’s tutor, – nothing more. He appeared a pleasing, inoffensive, well-bred young fellow. But surely, Mrs. Morris, my ward has given him no encouragement?”

      “Encouragement is a strong word, Sir William,” said she, smiling archly; “I believe it is only widows who give encouragement?”

      “Well, well,” said he, hurriedly, and not caring to smile, for he was in no jesting mood, “has she appeared to understand his attentions?”

      “Even young ladies make no mistakes on that score,” said she, in the same bantering tone.

      “And I never to see it!” exclaimed he, as he walked hurriedly to and fro. “But I ought to have seen it, eh, Mrs. Morris? – I ought to have seen it. I ought, at least, to have suspected that these fellows are always on the lookout for such a chance as this. Now I suppose you ‘ll laugh at me for the confession, but my attention was entirely engaged by watching our Irish friend.”

      “The great O’Shea!” exclaimed Mrs. Morris, laughing.

      “And to tell you the truth, I never could exactly satisfy myself whether he came here to ogle my ward, or win Charley’s half-crowns at billiards.”

      “I imagine, if you asked him, he ‘d say he was in for the ‘double event,’” said she, with a laugh.

      “And, then, Mrs. Morris,” added he, with a sly smile, “if I must be candid, I fancied, or thought I fancied, his attentions had another object.”

      “Towards me!” said she, calmly, but in an accent as honest, as frank, and as free from all concern as though speaking of a third person. “Oh, that is quite true. Mr. Layton also made his little quiet love to me as college men do it, and I accepted the homage of both, feeling that I was a sort of lightning-conductor that might rescue the rest of the building.”

      Sir William laughed as much at the arch quietness of her manner as her words. “How blind I have been all this time!” burst he in, angrily, as he reverted to the subject of his chagrin. “I suppose there’s not another man living would not have seen this but myself.”

      “No, no,” said she, gently; “men are never nice observers in these matters.”

      “Well, better late than never, eh, Mrs. Morris? Better to know it even now. Forewarned, – as the adage says, – eh?”

      In these little broken sentences he sought to comfort himself, while he angled for some consolation from his companion; but she gave him none, – not a word, nor a look, nor a gesture.

      “Of course I shall forbid him the house.”

      “And make a hero of him from that moment, and a martyr of her,” quietly replied she. “By such a measure as this you would at once convert what СКАЧАТЬ