Kitabı oku: «The Woman with One Hand, and Mr. Ely's Engagement», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XII
THE RIVALS-NEW VERSION

When they reached Shanklin, Mr. Ely was shown into the drawing-room, while Mr. Ash disappeared upstairs.

"You wait in there," suggested Mr. Ash; "there's a word or two I want to say to the old lady. I want to get to the bottom of the thing, because it's quite possible we've come on a wild goose chase after all. You wait half a minute, and I'll see Miss Lily's sent to you. I shouldn't be at all surprised to see her come flying headlong into your arms. Then you'll find out that it's almost worth while to fall out for the sake of the reconciliation."

Left alone in the drawing-room, Mr. Ely was not by any means so sure. He was inclined to be sceptical as to the young lady's flying leap into his arms. And as to falling out for the sake of the reconciliation-well, there might be something, perhaps, in that, but he would like to have felt as sure about the reconciliation as he did about the falling out.

He seated himself on an ottoman, thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, and stared at his patent toes. A minute passed, more than a minute, more than five minutes, indeed, still he was left alone. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes had elapsed since he entered the room.

"This is a pretty state of things; ten living minutes have I sat stewing here! And Ash said that in less than half a minute he wouldn't be surprised to see her in my arms. It looks like it!"

He got up and surveyed the apartment.

"I wonder where she is? And where the other fellow is? That's the man to whom I ought to apply for information. I lay my hat that she's done some bounding into his arms since yesterday. That's a pleasant thought to think about the woman who's promised to be your wife!"

Mr. Ely disconsolately paced the room.

"And to think that I paid twenty pounds for an engagement-ring! And I might have forked up forty-five! That's what gets at me! And I've got Rosenbaum's writ in my coat pocket. Damages laid at thirty thousand pounds! Oh, lor! This is a nice day's work I've done!"

Pausing before the fireplace he leaned his elbow on the mantelshelf, and his head upon his hand, and groaned.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me where Miss Truscott is?" There was a voice behind him. Mr. Ely turned.

"Hallo, Ely! I had no idea that it was you! How are you, dear old man?"

Mr. Ely turned-metaphorically-into a pillar of ice. Into a pillar of red-hot ice, if we may confound our metaphors. For while his exterior demeanour was several degrees below zero, his interior economy left boiling point at the post.

A gentleman had strolled into the room through the opened window-Mr. William Summers. Mr. William Summers as large as life, and larger. There were no signs of guilt upon his countenance; certainly there were none in his bearing. He held a soft crush hat in one hand, the other he held out to Mr. Ely.

"Well, I'm-hanged!"

"I say, Ely, what's the row?"

Speechless with indignation, Mr. Ely turned and strode towards the door. When he reached it he paused, and turning again, he gazed at the intruder. The intruder did not seem to be at all abashed.

"That's the way they used to do it at the Coburg. Exit vanquished vice."

"Sir!"

"That's a little Coburg, too. They used to roll their r's."

Mr. Summers tugged at his beard. Retracing his steps, Mr. Ely strode on until he was in a measurable distance of Mr. Summers's nose.

"Understand this once for all: you are a perfect stranger, sir, to me."

"That's all right; I thought I was. Excuse one stranger speaking to another, but could you tell me where Miss Truscott is?"

Mr. Ely gasped. "This-this beats anything I ever heard of! Mr. Summers!"

"That's right, Ely, I'm awake. Wire in and lay me flat; I sha'n't mind a bit."

"In all this there may be something funny, sir, which commends it to your mind-if you have a mind-but I see nothing comic in desecrating nature's most sacred ties and in corrupting the innocence of youth."

"More don't I, Ely; not the way you put it-and I couldn't put it better if I tried."

"Are you aware that Miss Truscott has promised to be my wife?"

"Ah, that was a mistake!"

"A mistake! What the devil do you mean?"

"You see, Ely, I've been in love with her a good twelve months-aye, that and more. I fell in love with her the first moment she came across my path."

"What the dickens do I care if you've been in love with her twelve years? More shame you! Do you consider that a justification to the scoundrel who betrays another fellow's wife?"

"In love with her in a sense you do not understand-in love with her with my whole life."

"What on earth has that to do with me?"

"I have lived for her, and worked, and hoped, and dreamed, until she has grown to be the centre of my being. Does she mean all that to you?"

"What business have you to ask me such a question? When you have ruined Mrs. Jones do you put a similar inquiry to Jones? I should think Jones would feel that you were a logical sort of person if you did."

"Ah, but here she is not your wife."

"But she's going to be!"

"As I live she never will."

"Hang it, sir; don't I tell you that she promised?"

"And don't I tell you that was a mistake. If you will keep cool I will give you an explanation. If you decline to listen to an explanation, you must be content to realise the fact."

"Look here, Mr. Summers, you are a sort of man with whom I have had very little to do-"

"My misfortune-not your fault."

"But I suppose you have some idea of common decency, if you have none of honour-"

"I hope I have."

"And I ask you if you think it's decent, directly a woman has promised a man to be his wife, to go behind his back and induce the woman to dishonour herself and him?"

"But that is not what I have done."

"It is what you have done. One day Miss Truscott promises to be my wife, the next-directly my back is turned-you come and persuade her to be false to herself and me."

"My good Ely, there is one factor you are omitting from your calculations, and that is-love."

"Which with you stands higher-love or honesty?"

"Oh, they both go hand-in-hand. Would it have been honest for her to have married you when she loved me?"

"Pooh! Stuff and nonsense! I never heard such impudence! What the dickens do you mean by saying that the woman who has promised to be my wife loves you?"

"You perceive, it is from that that I saved you-that curse of all existence, that canker which eats into the very root of life-a loveless marriage. But there are not many signs of gratitude, that I can see."

And Mr. Summers sighed. Mr. Ely gasped.

"Look here, Mr. Summers, I am not a fighting man."

"No?"

"But if I were-!"

"Yes. If you were? Go on!"

"By George, sir, if I were-!" At this moment Mr. Ash entered the room. "I'm sorry, Ash, that you have come. You've interrupted the most agreeable interview that I ever had in all my life."

"I'm surprised, Mr. Summers, after what has passed, to see you here."

"Why? I assure you I'm not at all surprised at seeing you."

Rising, Mr. Summers held out his hand. But Mr. Ash declined to see it.

"Oh, take his hand! For goodness' sake take his hand! Shake it off his wrist! Don't let him suppose that you're not delighted to have the pleasure."

"Our friend Ely-"

"Your friend Ely! What the dickens, sir, do you mean by calling me your friend?"

Very red in the face, Mr. Ely struck an attitude in front of Mr. Summers which was probably intended to express ferocity. Mr. Summers tugged at his beard, and smiled. Mr. Ash interposed.

"I can hardly think, Mr. Summers, that it is necessary for me to suggest that your presence is not required here."

"My dear fellow, I am only waiting to obtain a little information."

"What information can you possibly expect to receive?"

"I only want to know where Miss Truscott is."

"Yes, that's all! That's all he wants to know! A more modest request I never heard! He only wants to know where my wife is!"

"Excuse me, Ely, but Miss Truscott is not your wife!"

"But she's going to be!"

"That she will never be!"

"Hang it, sir!" Mr. Ely rushed forward. But again Mr. Ash thought it advisable to interpose.

"Mr. Summers, be so kind as to leave this house."

"Oh, don't turn him out! For goodness' sake don't turn him out! Pray tell him where the lady is! And also acquaint him with the situation of the spoons! And entreat him, next time he calls, to bring his burglar friends, and other relatives."

Mr. Ash endeavoured to pacify his friend. But the attempt was vain. Mr. Ely's blood was up. His wrongs were more than he could bear.

"My dear Ely, I beg that you will not pay the slightest attention to this-gentleman."

"Attention! Not me! I'm not paying the attention! It's he! And to my young woman, by the Lord!"

Still tugging at his beard, Mr. Summers laughed and turned away.

"I'm sorry you cannot give me the information I require. And you really are inhospitable, Ash, you really are. But never mind, I'll have my revenge! When you come to see me I'll not show you the door; nor Ely, if he'll condescend to call."

He had reached the window when the door opened, and Mrs. Clive appeared.

"Ah, here is Mrs. Clive! I am sure that Mrs. Clive will take pity on a man, especially a man in the forlorn situation which I am. May I ask if you can tell me where I am likely to find Miss Truscott?"

"Mr. Summers!"

Mrs. Clive's attitude was a study. It was as though all the pokers in England were down her back. But Mr. Summers did not show any sign of discomposure.

"Surely you will not be hard upon a man, especially upon a man in love. Consider our position. I seek Lily, she seeks me. Life's summer-time is short. You would not have us waste its sweetness?"

"Mr. Summers, I am more amazed than I can say."

"Oh, don't be amazed! For goodness' sake don't be amazed! And don't be hard upon a man-especially upon a man in love! Consider his position, and don't waste the sweetness of life's summer-time-oh, don't, for gracious' sake!" Mr. Ely pulled up his shirt-collar and "shot" his cuffs. "I reckon I'm spending one of the pleasantest half hours I ever had in all my life."

"Mrs. Clive, will you not listen to the all-conquering voice, the voice of love?"

"Mr. Summers, I must decline to listen to another word. And I am amazed to think that you should attempt to address me at all, especially as I have given you to understand that our acquaintance, sir, had ceased."

"Ceased! And I am going to marry your niece! Could you so divide the family? She who loves you so! And whom, for her sweet sake and Pompey's, I love too?"

"Well, this-this does beat cock-fighting! That allusion to Pompey was one of the most touching things I've heard. And he is going to marry your niece, so you and I, Ash, had better go back to town."

And again Mr. Ely's collar and cuffs came into play. Mr. Ash advanced.

"Mr. Summers, I have already requested you to go. You can scarcely wish us to use force."

"No, not force-not that. If it must be then-goodbye! After all, parting is such sweet sorrow. Goodbye, Mrs. Clive, you will weep for me when I am gone. Ta-ta, Ely, we shall meet at Philippi-I leave you-yes, you three! – perchance to wrangle, in very truth thinking angry thoughts-in such an air of discord, too! While I-I go under the shadow of the trees, where love lies dreaming-and waiting perhaps for me. If I meet Miss Truscott, Ely-and I shall under the trysting tree-I will tell her that if you had been a fighting man you certainly would have murdered me."

CHAPTER XIII
THE LOVER GREETS THE LADY

There was a pause when he had gone.

Mrs. Clive, the very essence of dignified disapprobation, stood in the centre of the room. Mr. Ash, a little flustered, was near the window, first gazing through it in the direction which Mr. Summers had taken, and then, a little dubiously, out of the corners of his eyes at his indignant friend. Mr. Ely's hands were in his trouser pockets, his legs were wide apart his countenance was red. He seemed to be in a very dissatisfied frame of mind indeed.

It was he who broke the silence.

"You see, Ash, it was a wild goose chase we came upon! That man looks like it, by George!"

"My dear fellow, I hope you will not pay the slightest attention to what that person says. He is the kind of man who will say anything. I assure you there is not the slightest occasion for you to feel concerned."

From Mr. Ash's manner it almost seemed as though he desired to convey a greater feeling of assurance that he quite felt himself. He cast several glances in the direction of Mrs. Clive, as though seeking for support.

"It depends upon what you call the 'slightest occasion' for concern," retorted Mr. Ely drily. "When a man tells you that he is going to marry the girl who has promised to be your wife, and that he is going to meet her underneath the trysting tree-where love lies dreaming, he said, by gad! – some people would think that there was some reason to feel concerned!"

Mr. Ash smiled and rubbed his hands, and fidgeted upon his feet, and looked at Mrs. Clive. He seemed to find some difficulty in finding something suitable to say. But Mrs. Clive came nobly to his rescue.

She advanced to Mr. Ely with a smiling countenance and an outstretched hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ely; you have not spoken to me yet. I am pleased to have you back with us so soon."

Mr. Ely seemed in two minds at first as to whether he should take her hand. Then he just touched it with his own.

"Good afternoon, ma'am! If you're pleased, I'm sure I am-though I must say your pleasure's easily found."

But the old lady was not to be so easily put down. Her cue seemed to be to assume unconsciousness of there being anything unpleasant in the air.

"The pleasure of your visit is heightened by its unexpectedness. Lily has been working all the morning in her room upstairs-you have no idea how industrious she is."

Mr. Ely looked at her suspiciously, as though he doubted if she were a strict exponent of the truth.

"I thought he said that he was going to meet her underneath the trysting tree!"

The old lady smiled a superior smile.

"You really must not believe such nonsense as that. I assure you it is the greatest presumption upon his part."

"It would require a good deal of assurance to make me believe that it was not."

"Lily will be with us directly. Young ladies cannot rush into a gentleman's presence quite at a moment's notice, you know."

"I beg that Miss Truscott will take her time!"

Mr. Ely marched to the other end of the room, and stood looking in rather too obvious admiration at an engraving after Landseer which hung upon the wall. Mrs. Clive, a little disconcerted, was left to make conversation with Mr. Ash. But Mr. Ash was in a distinctly uneasy frame of mind.

"I suppose," he said in a whisper to the lady, keeping one eye fixed on Mr. Ely all the time, "I suppose she'll come?"

"My dear Mr. Ash, what do you mean?"

The lady's modulated tones betrayed the most intense surprise. Mr. Ash coughed. His manner was apologetic. But without volunteering an explanation he sauntered off towards Mr. Ely. He had hardly taken a step when the door opened and Miss Truscott appeared. The young lady's entrance, in its way, was perfect. She was so extremely at her ease. She stood at the door a moment, and then advanced with outstretched hands and the sweetest smile to Mr. Ash. She did not seem to notice Mr. Ely. He, on his part, continued to admire the engraving.

"Guardian! How kind of you to take me by surprise like this!"

Mr. Ash took the two hands she offered and looked at her. Certainly this was a woman whom no man need be ashamed to call his wife. Tall above the average of her sex, yet her figure was exquisitely feminine-she bore herself with the daintiest grace. She was dressed in white from head to foot; a silver belt went round her waist; in the belt were some red roses; there was another rosebud in the bosom of her dress. As Mr. Ash held her two soft, white hands in his he involuntarily glanced in the direction of the dapper little gentleman who was continuing to examine the engraving which hung upon the wall. Even if they made a match of it they would scarcely make a pair, these two.

"What have you to say for yourself?" asked the lady, seeing that he was still. "Do you know how long it is since you came to look upon my face? Does your conscience not reproach you, sir? I suppose it is the Juggernaut of commerce which has kept you so long away?"

Mr. Ash smiled, and pressed her hands. Possibly the source from which she drew the reference to the Juggernaut of commerce was still fresh in his mind, for there was something a little uneasy in his smile.

"I think you will allow that I have atoned for my misconduct when you perceive whom I have brought as my companion."

Mr. Ash motioned towards Mr. Ely with his now disengaged hand. Miss Truscott turned with her most innocent air. When she perceived the little gentleman, her countenance was illumined with a seraphic smile.

"Mr. Ely! Who would have thought of seeing you? This is a compliment! To be able to tear yourself away again so quickly from your Noras and Doras, and bulls and bears."

Mr. Ely ceased to examine the engraving. Turning, he pulled his spotless white waistcoat down into its place, and then thrust his thumbs into the armholes. He looked the lady in the face.

"I knew you would be surprised," he said.

"Surprised! Surprised is not the word!" Then she turned again to Mr. Ash. "Guardian, would you like to look at the garden? You have no idea how beautiful it is."

Mr. Ash cleared his throat. He felt that this was a defiance, that in these seemingly innocent words the gage of challenge was thrown down. Miss Truscott was quite aware that he had not come down to look at the garden. He looked at Mr. Ely, but that gentleman kept his eyes fixed upon his faithless fair one with a sort of glare. He looked at Mrs. Clive, but there were no signs that help was likely to come from there. The stockbroker felt that it was incumbent upon him to come to the point.

"My dear Lily, I shall be delighted to see the garden-delighted-by and by!" This interpolation was necessary because the young lady sailed towards the window as though she wished to fly into the garden on the wings of the wind. "Before I can give myself that pleasure, there is one little point which I should like to have cleared up."

Miss Truscott, brought to a standstill, looked down at the toe of the little shoe with which she was tapping the floor.

"Yes, guardian. What is that?"

Nothing could be better-in its way-than the air of shy, sweet modesty with which she asked the question. But Mr. Ash felt that it was a little disconcerting all the same.

"It's-eh! – rather a delicate point for an old-and crusty-bachelor like me to handle."

Mr. Ash said this with an air of forced joviality which was anything but jovial. His gruesome effort to be cheerful seemed to strike Miss Truscott, for she gave him a quick, penetrating glance which took him considerably aback.

"Guardian! Aren't you well?"

"Well? God bless the girl, yes! What do you mean?"

Back went the eyes to the toe, which again began tapping the floor. "I didn't know."

Mr. Ash pulled himself together. He made another effort, and began again. He was not a man who was deficient in tact as a rule, but he was conscious that his was a position in which even something more than tact might be required. Joining the tips of his fingers, he balanced himself upon his toes and heels, assuming what he intended to be a judicial attitude.

"My dear Lily, you are quite aware that you have reached an age at which it is no longer possible to treat you as a girl."

"Would you treat me as an old woman, then?"

This was disconcerting; even more disconcerting was the glance with which it was accompanied. Mr. Ash-who had the sense of humour which Mr. Ely lacked-was quite aware that the young lady was laughing in her sleeve, and he had very clearly in his mind the memory of previous occasions on which the young lady had beaten him with weapons against which none of his were of the least avail. Still, he stuck to his guns. Was not Mr. Ely looking on? And Mrs. Clive?

"I would treat you as a person who has arrived at years of discretion, who is conscious of the meaning of the words which she may use. One moment!" For Miss Truscott murmured something about her not being yet twenty-one, and he felt that interruption might be fatal. "Lily, you are at least aware of what a promise means."

The young lady sighed.

"It depends," she said.

"Depends! – depends on what?"

She looked up. Feeling that it would be impossible for him to preserve his gravity and yet meet the wicked light which he knew was in her eyes, Mr. Ash's glance in turn sought refuge on the ground.

"Supposing," she explained, "when you were suffering from an attack of indigestion you promised a friend to cut your throat-you know what one is inclined to promise when one does feel ill. Would you feel constrained to carry out your promise when you found that a dose of somebody's medicine had brought you round?"

Mr. Ash was still. Mrs. Clive took up the parable instead.

"Lily! I'm amazed at you!"

"My dear aunt, why are you amazed?"

"I never thought a niece of mine could have acted so."

Miss Truscott sighed.

"It seems to me that of late I'm always doing wrong. I don't know how it is. I think I had better go into the garden all alone."

She gave a half-step towards the window. Mr. Ash cleared his throat with rather a suspicious "hem!"

"It won't do, Lily. I know your genius for turning serious questions upside down, but I ask you to put it to your conscience if, on the present occasion, that is fair. A matter which affects the lives of a man and of a woman ought to be approached with gravity at least."

"Is the woman me?" She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. "Oughtn't that to be-Is the woman I?" Then she broke into a smile. "What can you expect when even the elementary rules of grammar are not there?"

So far Mr. Ely had kept a judicious, if not a judicial, silence. But when he saw that Miss Truscott was smiling at Mr. Ash, and more than suspected that Mr. Ash was smiling back at her, he felt that it was time for him to speak.

"If you will allow me, Ash, I'll manage this myself."

"Delighted, my dear fellow, I am sure!"

"I fancy I am the person principally concerned."

"Quite so, quite so!"

"If you will leave me alone with Miss Truscott, I've no doubt that in a few minutes we shall understand each other very well indeed."

"I'm sure you will! I feel quite sure you will!"

Mr. Ash's tone was cheerful-Mr. Ely felt that it was even exasperatingly cheerful. Advancing, he laid his hand upon his ward's well-rounded arm.

"Mind you behave yourself," he told her. Then he left the room.

"Lily," said Mrs. Clive, when Mr. Ash had gone, "I trust you will do credit to the precepts which I have so constantly, and I hope conscientiously, endeavoured to instil into your mind, and that I shall not have cause to blush for my own sister's child."

Then Mrs. Clive went after Mr. Ash, and the two were left alone.