Kitabı oku: «A Search For A Secret: A Novel. Volume 3», sayfa 4
CHAPTER IV
AN ODD WOOING
We had not much society at Putney – that is, not much ladies' society. Putney is too near to London for people to call upon new comers; so the only acquaintances we made were the wives and sisters of the "Metropolitan" men who resided there. There were only four or five of them – that is only that number of married men; but that gave us as much quiet evening visiting as we cared for. We were all very sociable, and very frequently met at each other's houses to tea, and then, after a little music, the gentlemen sat down to whist, while we talked and looked on. It was a great place for whist, and both Polly and I were fond of it, and played, Harry said, very fairly for girls. We often played when we were wanted; and when Harry brought in two friends with him, we took it by turns to play the double rubber. In summer this was constantly the case, for then Putney was full of "Metropolitan" men, who took up their quarters there for the rowing season, went up to their business by the morning train, and came down in quite a strong body for the rowing; in the evening – increased as their numbers were by those who lived in other parts of London, and had to return again the same evening. A finer-looking set of men could hardly be found – men with straight, active figures, and fresh, healthy complexions; not noisy, and yet full of fun and life. They were almost all in business of some kind in the City; merchants, Stock Exchange men, solicitors, and men in government and other offices. Harry was very particular who he brought home with him, and certainly Polly's opinion and mine – as far as our little season in town had qualified us to judge – was, that they were as pleasant and gentlemanly a set of men as could be found. There were, Harry said, of course, a few men in the club who were not quite so presentable; but that was to be expected in any large body of men.
Harry came down twice a week all through the summer, to go out in the club-eights, and we generally walked a little way along the towing-path on these evenings, to see them come along with their measured stroke, and steady swing. In time, from hearing so much talk about it, we got to know how nearly every man in the club rowed.
It was more especially when the club races were coming on, and three or four eights had entered, that these matters were discussed with the greatest interest.
Harry always entered for them. He had taken to rowing too late ever to become a finished oar; but he was considered a very useful man in the middle of the boat. What excitement we all felt about it; and I believe the ladies of the club – if I may call them so – were at least as much interested as the men. We discussed the chances of the boats quite scientifically, and laid bets of kid-gloves with each other upon the result. The first great excitement was the evening when Harry came back from the club on the night of choosing the crews, with the lists. How eagerly we looked over them, and how glad we would be to see that he had Griffin for stroke, and Thompson for seven, a host in themselves; but as our eye ran down it, our faces would fall greatly, when we saw that he had also Big Hamper, who it was notorious never pulled his weight along, and Long Black, who in himself was enough to – well I must not use Harry's word, though it was very expressive – but enough to spoil any crew he got among.
During the fortnight they were practising for the race, pretty Miss Planter would generally call in for us every evening, as we lived nearer to the water than she did; and we would walk through the cricket-field to the towing-path, and watch the different boats coming down over the course. In time we became quite judges of rowing, and could tell pretty nearly which would be most likely to win, by the regularity of the stroke and the steadiness of the swing with which they did the last half-mile down to the bridge; for, as Harry said, any crew could swing when they were fresh, but the boat which kept its form after going over the course might be pretty well relied upon to win the race. Miss Planter was a better judge than we were, for her brother was the life and soul, the guiding spirit of the club.
Rupert Planter was a tall, wiry man, rather loosely put together, with a rolling, uncouth walk. On shore, no one would have singled him out as a man of unusual strength, or as a practised gymnast; but put him into a boat, and his muscles seemed to stiffen into steel, and, as he tore his oar through the water, you saw before you the most finished, as well as, perhaps, the most plucky, oarsman in the world. Rupert Planter's life was passed, when not at business or asleep, in a boat. His every thought and energy were devoted to the promotion of the aquatic art in general, and of the "Metropolitan Rowing Club" in particular. His whole time was at its disposal, and no trouble was grudged by him in the endeavour to maintain it in its proud position of the first rowing club in England.
He was rather a despot in his way, and a little fond of carrying things with a high hand, and anything like shirking was greeted with a force of denunciation which sometimes rather astonished new members; but no one minded what he said, for they knew that he only spoke as he did for the good of the club. It was wonderful the influence he had over them, and how much better a boat went when he was steering her; and if he were on the bank, and an eight came along pulling heavily against the tide, the moment his voice was heard, with his sharp "Now lift her up, boys!" the way in which the tired crew straightened up and lay out to their work was almost magical.
On the day of the race we went in the steamer which the club hired to accompany it, and great was our interest and excitement. I don't know anything prettier than to see four eights dash off together at the word "Go!" their oars all dipping together, amidst the burst of shouts and encouragement from their friends in the accompanying steamer, and the breathless excitement, lest – as they close nearer to each other, in their efforts to draw over to the Middlesex shore – there should be a foul; then the thrill of pleasure and triumph with which you see the boat you wish to win, slowly, inch by inch, draw itself out from among the others. Even should the boat which first leads not be your favourite, still you do not give up hope, but continue to wave your handkerchief, and to watch each fresh effort, until, perhaps, towards Hammersmith, your boat, stroke by stroke, slowly gains on the leader till it is nearly abreast, and then with a desperate spurt, amidst the wild cheering from the steamer, it snatches the victory in the last quarter of a mile. Oh, it is a glorious exercise! and if ever I wished myself a man, it was, certainly, that I might be able to row in a boat-race.
Polly would get even more excited than I did, and I remember that on one or two occasions of particularly hard races, she came home with her handkerchief and gloves literally torn into shreds, quite unconsciously to herself, in the excitement she felt in watching the varying chances of the boat Harry pulled in.
On occasions of general interest, such as the University contests, or races for the championship, we used to go up to the club-room, and out into the long balcony looking over the river; and it was very interesting to see the river crowded with steamers, and the excited crowd on the towing-path, and to hear the burst of cheering which broke out when they started. But it was only the start we saw, and not even always that – for the steamers often got in our way – so that, on the whole, I enjoyed the club races far more than these great contests.
On quiet afternoons, when the tide was favourable, and there was no racing on, Harry would come down early, and, perhaps, bring a friend round with him, and take a club skiff, and row us up to Richmond. Very pleasant it was, lying back in the boat, with its gentle gliding motion through the still water, and listening to the regular plash of the oars; and then, when we reached Richmond, to get out, and stroll up into the park, and look out on the wonderfully beautiful view over the rich wooded country towards Windsor, with the winding river, and the pretty mansions, and country seats on its banks. Then, when the tide turned, we would start again, floating down lazily with the current, and not getting back to the boat-house until it was growing quite dark, and the mists were beginning to curl up from the still river.
We had now been two years at Putney, and in this time Polly had many admirers; indeed, I don't think any one could help loving her; and she could, had she given them the slightest encouragement, have married almost any one of Harry's friends. But her heart was evidently quite untouched at present, and she did not seem to be at all anxious to change her name. Among Harry's friends it was generally understood that I was engaged. I wished it to be so, as it made my position more pleasant, by putting me quite at my ease with them, and by preventing the possibility of any unfortunate mistake being made; besides, I was the better able to chaperone Polly.
In the winter season, as I have said, we were much quieter than in summer, for then the rowing men almost all went away to London till the spring; but twice a week at any rate we went in of an evening to the Planters', or one of the other resident families, or they came in to us. Saturday was the club-day, and then Harry went out on the water when the weather was fine, and in the evening to the club-room, where he boxed, fenced, and played whist till twelve o'clock.
It was not till we had been there two years that we came to know one of Harry's friends, he had never brought home before; and yet we had heard more of him than of almost any man in the club. This was Charley Horton, a merchant, with a very good business in the City – not that any one would have taken him for a merchant, or, indeed, for anything connected with business in any way. He was a man of about thirty, of middle height, but very strongly built, with a large pair of whiskers, a ruddy complexion, a clear, honest eye, a big voice, and a hearty laugh. Harry had often spoken of him as one of the most popular men in the club, but when we had asked him why he did not bring him in, Harry had said —
"Oh, Charley can't stand women; it is not that he dislikes them absolutely, but he says he does not understand them, and can never think of anything to say to them; a man who once met him at a party reports that he stood at the door all the evening, and looked as afraid of speaking to a woman as if he had never seen one before in his life."
One day, however, when Harry came down early with the intention of taking us up the river, Charley happened to come down in the same carriage with him, and Harry told him what he was going to do, and asked him to take an oar. After great difficulty, and only under the promise that he should pull bow, so as to be as far out of the way of conversation as possible, Charley consented to come. Harry came home to fetch us, while his friend went round to the club-room to dress, and met us at the boat-house. When he saw us coming I do believe that if he could by any possibility have got away he would have done so; but there was no escape. Harry introduced him to us, he murmured something vague, and then went off to help to get the boat down.
I do not think that I ever remember Polly in such a wild humour as she was on that afternoon. She kept up a string of questions and talk the whole time we were on the water, I believe on purpose to put Mr. Horton out, and as we were going up with the tide there was no occasion to pull hard, and the rowers had no excuse for not talking.
Polly commenced the attack directly the boat had pushed off. I believe she waited for that lest her victim should escape her.
"Do you know, Mr. Horton, we have been wishing to make your acquaintance for ever so long; Harry has so often spoken about you, that we seem to know you quite well."
Charley Horton coloured up like a girl, and murmured something about "mutual pleasure, he was sure."
I was obliged to hold my face down, while I thought that Harry, who was pulling stroke and had therefore his back to Charley Horton, would have laughed out loud. However, he restrained himself, and shook his head admonishingly at Polly, who, however, paid not the slightest attention to it; but with a perfectly innocent and unconscious look continued to talk, sometimes addressing Harry, sometimes his friend, but always a question requiring rather a long answer or explanation. I do believe that for his own sake, Charley Horton would willingly have jumped overboard and swam ashore at any time during our trip up. Coming back again she was more merciful, and confined her questions chiefly to boating matters, and on these Charley was able to answer pretty fluently, and was more at his ease. I leaned forward and asked Harry to invite his friend round. He nodded, but said nothing about it till we got out of the boat. Then he asked —
"I suppose you are not going up to town, Charley, till a late train?"
"No," he answered, "not till the 10.40."
"Well, then," Harry said, "you may as well come round with us, we are going to have a dinner-tea."
Charley opened his eyes with an expression of absolute alarm.
"Much obliged," he said, "but I can't anyhow. It is quite impossible."
"Why, Mr. Horton," I said quietly, "you said you were not going up to town till late, so there can be surely nothing to prevent your coming in to us."
"Come, old fellow," Harry laughed, "there can't be any reason why you won't come, so say no more about it, but come."
"Well, I don't know that there is any particular reason," Charley said in a tone of extreme depression, and evidently quite unable at the moment to invent any excuse whatever, "No – well, Ashleigh, I'll come."
"That's right," Harry said, "I want to speak to some one at the rooms, so I will go round with you; you may as well go on girls and get tea ready."
As we went home I talked quite seriously to Polly, and told her I was really very surprised at her; but Polly would by no means allow she was wrong, and insisted that she had only been very polite and chatty. This was, to a certain extent, true and I was quite unable to extract any promise from her that she would be more merciful. Presently the two gentlemen came in, and Harry told us afterwards that had he not gone round with his friend he would never have come; as it was, he had endeavoured to persuade Harry to tell us that he had received some urgent message calling him to town; but Harry refused to do this, and pointed out that if he did we should not believe him, and that he would have to call and apologize next time he came down.
And so Charley, with great discontent, came round, and was for some time evidently very uncomfortable; but as the evening went on, he became more at his ease, although it was ridiculous to hear the difference between his loud, jovial tone when he spoke to Harry, and his shy, disconnected way of speaking when he answered our questions.
This was Charley Horton's first visit to us, but it was by no means the last. After this he came with Harry, not often at first, but as he became more intimate, much more frequently, and sometimes even when Harry did not bring him in; and as he got to know us, and found that women were not such terrible beings after all, he became comparatively at his ease. Certainly Polly did not help to make him so, for she teazed and put him out of countenance most unmercifully; the consequence was, that although before very long he got to talk to me almost in the same way he did to Harry, he was always shy and awkward when he addressed her. I wondered myself that he came at all, for Polly plagued him sadly in spite of what I could say to her; I even expressed myself surprised to Harry, but Harry laughed, and said, "Do you know, Agnes, I am firmly of opinion that Charley is rather smitten with Polly."
"What nonsense," I said; greatly amused at the idea; "you are not in earnest, Harry, are you?"
"I am, indeed, Agnes," he said, "and a capital husband he would make, too."
"Why, my dear Harry, Polly would as soon think of marrying the man in the moon as Charley Horton. Why, she could marry almost any one she liked, and she does nothing but make fun of him."
I told Polly what Harry had said, as a very great joke. Polly laughed too, but she coloured a little, and said, "What ridiculous nonsense, Agnes;" altogether she was not so amused at the idea as I had thought she would be. After this I watched them closely, and at last came to the conclusion that Harry was right, and that Charley really was serious about it. About Polly I could not tell at all; she was just as teazing as ever with him, and I could not see the least change in her manner.
I cannot enter into all this at length, or I shall never bring this story of mine to an end, and I must, therefore, be very brief with it, as I have been with all this part of my history.
It was a funny courtship, and I never, till it was settled, felt quite certain that it was a courtship at all. I never heard Charley pay her a compliment, or say anything such as people in his condition do; never at least, but once, and that was not at all the usual way of doing it. We had been talking about a race, and Polly said that she should like to steer one of the boats, when Charley came out in his loud way, – "By Jove! Miss Ashleigh, if you did, there would be no occasion to say, 'Eyes in the boat.'" Harry and I laughed heartily, and Polly got up and made a very deep curtsey, and poor Charley was so completely astonished at himself that he could not say another word that evening, and took his leave very shortly. It was only to Harry that he would confide anything, and he at last told him that he was only waiting for an opportunity to ask Polly, but that for the life of him he could not imagine what he should say to her. However, I suppose he did manage it somehow, for one day Polly told me that it was all settled, and that she was going to marry Charley Horton.
I was very pleased; for although Charley was not a bit the man I should have thought Polly would have chosen, still I was sure, from what I had heard and seen of him, that he was a really good fellow, and would make her extremely happy. How Charley managed to summon up courage enough to propose to her I never found out; for although I several times asked Polly, she always laughed, and would never tell me a word about it. She at first wanted to wait until Percy came back from India for me, as she said she did not like to leave me alone; but this, of course, I would not hear of. I had not so much longer now to wait; and, besides, Charley urged, if anything should take Harry away from town, that of course I should come and live with them. And so it was arranged that they should be married in six months. Now that it was all settled, it seemed very strange to me; and yet I was very glad that it was so, for I had hoped anxiously that Polly would be married to some one, whom I could like very much, before I was myself, as I should have been very loath to have gone away and left her alone, while leaving her with a husband she loved, I should know in my far off home in India that she was happy as well as myself: and so I was heartily glad at her engagement with Charley Horton.
About this time I was rather anxious about Harry. He was restless and unhappy; it was some time before I could make out the reason, and then I guessed, that whether from the idea of Polly being married, or why, I know not, but that he had fallen in love with Planter's pretty sister. Of course, Harry, in his present circumstances, could not think of marrying; and I knew whatever he felt, that he was one of the last men in the world to become engaged unless he could keep a wife. I said one day, —
"Well, Harry, I suppose I shall have you following Polly's example next;" and he answered so sharply, – "Yes, a nice match I should be, on my £200 a year," that I was certain that there was something of the sort in his mind.
It happened that one day soon after this I read in the paper a prospectus of a company to execute some extensive engineering works in Australia, and Lord Holmeskirk's name was among the directors.
The same day I went up and saw Ada and her husband, and asked if he could procure Harry an appointment upon it. He kindly said that he would do what he could, and ten days later Harry received a letter, offering him the appointment of resident engineer, at a salary of £800 a year to begin with, and £1,200 at the end of three years. Harry accepted the offer with the greatest joy; and thus, in the space of a month, I was to lose my brother and sister – I say, lose them both, because Harry would be absolutely gone, and Polly would have other loves and cares, and I should no longer be, as I had so long been, her first object in life. Harry was not to leave for six months yet, and it was arranged that Polly should be married immediately before he started, and that I was to take up my abode with her and her husband.
Charley, now his shyness had worn off, improved wonderfully, and I liked him more and more every day, with his hearty, straightforward manner. Polly's manner to him was very little changed, and she still delighted in teazing and bothering her "dear old bear," as she generally called him, but I could see now, that under all her fun and raillery she was very, very fond of him.
