The Vicissitudes of Evangeline. Glyn Elinor

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СКАЧАТЬ first – I would rather you began by me. I am strong enough to ward off the rest.”

      “What does ’beginning by you’ mean?” I asked with great candour. “Old Lord Bentworth said I should begin by him, when he was here to shoot pheasants last autumn; he said it could not matter, he was so old; but I didn’t – ”

      Mr. Carruthers bounded up from his chair.

      “You didn’t what! Good Lord, what did he want you to do!” he asked aghast.

      “Well,” I said, and I looked down for a moment, I felt stupidly shy, “he wanted me to kiss him.”

      Mr. Carruthers appeared almost relieved, it was strange!

      “The old wretch! Nice company my aunt seems to have kept!” he exclaimed. “Could she not take better care of you than that – to let you be insulted by her guests.”

      “I don’t think Lord Bentworth meant to insult me. He only said he had never seen such a red, curly mouth as mine, and as I was bound to go to the devil some day with that, and such hair, I might begin by kissing him – he explained it all.”

      “And were you not very angry?” his voice wrathful.

      “No – not very, I could not be, I was shaking so with laughter. If you could have seen the silly old thing, like a wizened monkey, with dyed hair and an eyeglass, it was too comic! – I only told you because you said the sentence ‘begin by you,’ and I wanted to know if it was the same thing.”

      Mr. Carruthers’ eyes had such a strange expression, puzzle and amusement, and something else. He came over close to me.

      “Because,” I went on, “if so, I believe if that is always the beginning – I don’t want any beginnings – I haven’t the slightest desire to kiss any one – I should simply hate it.”

      Mr. Carruthers laughed. “Oh! you are only a baby child after all!” he said.

      This annoyed me. I got up with great dignity. “Tea will be ready in the white drawing-room,” I said stiffly, and walked towards my bedroom door.

      He came after me.

      “Send your maid away, and let us have it up here,” he said. “I like this room.”

      But I was not to be appeased thus easily, and deliberately called Véronique and gave her fresh directions.

      “Poor old Mr. Barton will be feeling so lonely,” I said, as I went out into the passage. “I am going to see that he has a nice tea,” and I looked back at Mr. Carruthers over my shoulder. Of course he followed me and we went together down the stairs.

      In the hall a footman with a telegram met us. Mr. Carruthers tore it open impatiently. Then he looked quite annoyed.

      “I hope you won’t mind,” he said, “but a friend of mine, Lord Robert Vavasour is arriving this afternoon – he is a – er – great judge of pictures. I forgot I asked him to come down and look at them, it clean went out of my head.”

      I told him he was host; and why should I object to what guests he had.

      “Besides, I am going myself to-morrow,” I said, “if Véronique can get the packing done.”

      “Nonsense – how can I make you understand that I do not mean to let you go at all.”

      I did not answer – only looked at him defiantly.

      Mr. Barton was waiting patiently for us in the white drawing-room, and we had not been munching muffins for five minutes when the sound of wheels crunching the gravel of the great sweep – the windows of this room look out that way – interrupted our manufactured conversation.

      “This must be Bob arriving,” Mr. Carruthers said, and went reluctantly into the hall to meet his guest.

      They came back together presently, and he introduced Lord Robert to me.

      I felt at once he was rather a pet! Such a shape! Just like the Apollo of Belvidere! I do love that look, with a tiny waist and nice shoulders, and looking as if he were as lithe as a snake, and yet could break pokers in half like Mr. Rochester in “Jane Eyre”!

      He has great, big, sleepy eyes of blue, and rather a plaintive expression, and a little fairish moustache turned up at the corners, and the nicest mouth one ever saw, and when you see him moving, and the back of his head, it makes you think all the time of a beautifully groomed thoroughbred horse. I don’t know why. At once – in a minute – when we looked at one another, I felt I should like “Bob”! He has none of Mr. Carruthers’ cynical, hard, expression, and I am sure he can’t be nearly as old, not more than twenty-seven, or so.

      He seemed perfectly at home, sat down and had tea, and talked in the most casual, friendly way. Mr. Carruthers appeared to freeze up, Mr. Barton got more banal – and the whole thing entertained me immensely.

      I often used to long for adventures in the old days with Mrs. Carruthers, and here I am really having them!

      Such a situation! I am sure people would think it most improper! I alone in the house with these three men! I felt I really would have to go – but where!

      Meanwhile I have every intention of amusing myself!

      Lord Robert and I seemed to have a hundred things to say to one another. I do like his voice – and he is so perfectly sans gêne, it makes no difficulties. By the end of tea we were as old friends. Mr. Carruthers got more and more polite, and stiff, and finally jumped up and hurried his guest off to the smoking-room.

      I put on such a duck of a frock for dinner, one of the sweetest chastened simplicity, in black, showing peeps of skin through the thin part at the top. Nothing could be more demure or becoming, and my hair would not behave, and stuck out in rebellious waves and curls everywhere.

      I thought it would be advisable not to be in too good time, so sauntered down after I knew dinner was announced.

      They were both standing on the hearth rug. I always forget to count Mr. Barton, he was in some chair, I suppose, but I did not notice him.

      Mr. Carruthers is the taller – about one inch; he must be a good deal over six feet, because the other one is very tall too, but now that one saw them together Mr. Carruthers’ figure appeared stiff and set beside Lord Robert’s, and he hasn’t got nearly such a little waist. I wonder if any other nation can have that exquisitely soigné look of Englishmen in evening dress, I don’t believe so. They really are lovely creatures, both of them, and I don’t yet know which I like best.

      We had such an engaging time at dinner! I was as provoking as I could be in the time – sympathetically absorbingly interested in Mr. Barton’s long stories, and only looking at the other two now and then from under my eyelashes – while I talked in the best demure fashion that I am sure even Lady Katherine Montgomerie – a neighbour of ours – would have approved of.

      They should not be able to say I could not chaperone myself in any situation.

      “Dam – good port this, Christopher,” Lord Robert said, when the ’47 was handed round. “Is this what you asked me down to sample?”

      “I thought it was to give your opinion about the pictures,” I exclaimed, surprised. “Mr. Carruthers said you were a great judge.”

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