  Produced by Al Haines. HARUM SCARUM'S By ESMÈ STUART JARROLDS Publishers LONDON First Printed in 1910 By the same author: CONTENTS. CHAPTER
Harum Scarum's Fortune CHAPTER I. DO YOU REMEMBER? Toney Whitburn pulled in her thorough-bred suddenly by a gap in the park and looked at her companion. The two had met by chance and they had had a canter together, so that the exercise had made the girl look radiant, and her hair, though twisted round her well-shaped head, rebelled at the restriction, and in protest curled itself round her temples and the nape of her neck. "Do you know—I'm twenty-one to-morrow. Isn't it terrible?" "Terrible!" answered the young Squire, Lewis Waycott, with a smile half of amusement and half of sympathy. "You don't think so, but I do! You know I've honestly tried to become 'a young lady with expectations.' I've been to a finishing school at Paris, and I've tried to learn German at Dresden, and I've gone to sleep through ever so many concerts, and I've seen all the old things at Rome—and yet——" "You haven't succeeded? You are just the same as you were, thank Heaven!" Toney's joyous laugh woke the echoes. "No, I've failed utterly, though, honest Injun, I have tried! Aunt Dove says so! She's always implying what a national misfortune it is that to-morrow I shall be my own mistress, but now, will you—you have always been awfully chummy—will you be the judge?" "Between you and Lady Dove?" "Yes. You know I offered to be her companion—and I meant it——" "You always mean what you say, Toney." "I try to because Pups always did— Oh, if only he could just come to me now and say, 'Toney, you must'—no, he always said we must—do this and that with our money." "I wish he could—but if you ask me, Toney, I should say give it all to Lady Dove, as she seems mighty jealous of your having it." For a moment Toney looked at her companion with wide open and surprised eyes, then she answered gravely, "Do you really mean that?" "Yes, I do," he muttered. "You are quite wrong. The dear old General would rise from his grave if I gave away his present. Oh, I couldn't; besides—I believe he wished Aunt Dove not to have it, so it would be betraying trust if—— No, I've got to keep it, but the thing is what I'm to do with it!" "It's not many people who are puzzled what to do with money. I suppose—you'll——" "What? I never knew you jib before." "I was going to say you'll have lots of offers—and marry some Nabob——" Toney laughed. "How odd you should say that! Do you know, I wanted to ask your opinion about that very thing, because I can trust you. What does one say if people make you offers?" The two had been waiting by the gate that led into the plantation. It was a lovely October day with the sunshine turning yellow leaves into gold and decay made glorious by its touches. Toney was so unconscious that her remark was at all comical, that her companion dared not laugh, nor did he even dare to look surprised. "If you love the man, say 'yes,' and if you don't, say 'no.'" "Thank you. I see it does seem easy and simple. Dear old Crumpet—by the way, this was the gap she went through on our first visit to you—do you remember? Well, when we went to Italy together——" "Lady Dove did not approve!" "Of course not, but she was wrong. No one could have done it better than Crumpet. She was just delighted over everything, and I had to hide my yawns often not to make her sorry; I couldn't stand more than one gallery a day, and one ruin thrown in, I really couldn't, but she loved it all. Do you know every now and then she used to burst out into a soft little laugh all to herself just because she was so happy, and I was so scrumptiously pleased to hear it, that I swallowed an extra gallery and did another old ruin without letting her see how sleepy it made me." "But she was with you to do as you liked, I thought!" "Oh, to see Crumpet laugh was what I really enjoyed! Do you remember what she used to be like, and now what with the Reverend, and Harry, and Toney, she is quite too happy, she says. But that isn't what I wanted to say, you'll see her to-morrow, and I've been here so little that it all brings back the past to-day. You understand?" "Yes, I do; it seems ages since you were here, except on awfully short visits." "Well, in Italy, there was a young man who made me an offer." "What impudence!" "Oh, no, and he didn't do it to me personally, because he told Crumpet I never gave him the tiniest chance, but he did it to her instead! Wasn't it funny, and she wept bitterly when she told me, she thought it was her fault." "And what answer did you give him?" This time his companion smiled. "I begged Crumpet to tell him Pups had said that he pitied any man who married me, as I was such a dasher—you know—and that Aunt Dove said no one would ever propose to me except he wanted my money!" The man at her side bit his lip and impatiently flipped his horse with his whip, holding him in tightly at the same time. "Lady Dove said that!" "Yes, and of course it's true! Aunt Dove does say the truth now and then. Don't you see yourself that it's true? I'm not like your cousin or Silvia Hales, or any of the nice girls about! Aunt Dove says Paris, Rome, Berlin, Dresden, and London, have all failed to make me an English young lady." "A good thing too!" "Oh, you say that because we are chums, but I know it's true. I can't feel different, though I've tried. Once a month I say 'make me a new heart' in the Psalms, you know, but nothing happens, so I suppose it isn't possible to alter some people, and I'm one of them." "Nonsense!" "No, it's true; Madame Lemoine, at Paris, used to say, 'Il faut toujours dire la vÉritÉ en famille,' but to other people it didn't matter. I told her it was all wrong, but she never could see it my way, so I gave it up, and she was an old dear in spite of her fibs!" "She didn't convert you to fibbing, Toney!" "There you see, I can't alter, but that wasn't what I was going to say. Do you know that last night, dear Uncle Evas—who is really quite cheerful now—and didn't he enjoy his times at Rome with me and Crumpet? for you know that with a lot of trouble and a little bribery I think, he got a month off last year." They both laughed heartily, and slowly walked their horses on together. If a stranger had seen them he would have paused to look at this picture of the man and the maid. "Well, what did your uncle say?" "Oh, it was funny. He wanted to give me good advice about my coming of age! He cleared his throat and said, 'My dear Antonia, to-morrow you will be——' Then I laughed so much that he couldn't help joining in too, so I just gave him a hug till he begged for mercy." Her companion also bowed his head over his horse's mane in happy laughter. "I see, Toney, it's true you are incorrigible!" "Yes, but really I don't believe you could have been so cruel as to let Uncle Dove give you a homily, now, could you? It would only have given him a sore throat for a month." "I should like to have heard him all the same." "You know he's just all right deep down in his heart, but he can't preach to save his life. However, when I released him—Aunt Dove had gone to bed, and he was so afraid of her hearing us—he showed me a long list of names, all men's names." "Good heavens! What for?" "I was a bit surprised too, and he laughed and said, 'Don't be afraid, they are not suitors,' then I scolded him and said he knew I never thought of such things. Well, then he explained that as I was coming into so much money—and do you know somehow it's a lot more than they expected—I must have a secretary, because it would take all my time and strength to open the letters. There's a lot come already, begging me to buy carpets and boots and smoked bacon, and heaps more things!" "Never open letters, then you won't want a secretary," said Lewis decidedly. "And I said, 'Oh, I can find a girl to do it,' but uncle intimated that there was more work than any poor girl could do, and that I must have a trained man—sort of lawyer—Mr. Staines insists on it, because he doesn't trust me with money—they none of them do—and fancy, dear old uncle had been spending hours collecting a lot of right-minded young men for me! Isn't it funny?" "Very unnecessary; the London lawyers could do it all." "No, they say they can't be bothered about begging letters, and so on; anyhow, I've got to have a secretary. I looked at the list and their testimonials and oh, do you know, everyone was perfect, and all their friends declared there was not a fault in them, so I told uncle it didn't matter which I took, and I suggested we should put their names on slips of paper and stick them up in his hat and pull one out!" "Did he consent?" "No! he was afraid I should tell of him I think, anyhow I had to choose, and there was one with an Australian uncle who recommended him highly. Out there we always recommended our relations, it wasn't neighbourly not to say all the good and leave out all the bad, so I told uncle I'd have him. Plantagenet Russell, that's his name. His father was a black sheep out home, but his uncle says he is most gentlemanly!" "Toney, how ridiculous! Of course he's a plant too!" "Gracious stars! what's the matter? I told you Uncle Dove had written about them all, he's all right and he's coming the day after to-morrow to see us, so as to avoid the coming of age party. You've promised to come, haven't you? I've been working so hard to get everything right for it." "Of course, we are all coming." "Heaps of Aunt Dove's friends are coming. We haven't had one refusal. Awfully kind of them, though of course I would much rather some of them didn't come, it's only to see if I've improved." "Shall I stay away?" "Why it would not be coming of age without you and Crumpet and Uncle Dove and Doctor Latham, and a few more—and Jim's coming to be my coachman and groom all in one, because Aunt Dove doesn't want to pay anything for me now I'm rich. Jim is just a faithful friend, and he's still engaged to his second young woman, the first was a bit fast so he gave her the slip one day." "How do you know, Toney?" "Jim and I have corresponded regularly. You see if you just leave go of these young fellows they soon forget their promises, besides I kept all his savings, and he's a nice little lump now in the Savings Bank. Oh, dear, it's tea-time and I must scoot! Mr. Staines is coming to explain things to me, and there's no end to do, but Crumpet is staying with me in our old rooms, top storey, and she'll help a bit. You should see the rooms, I spent all one quarter's pocket money on them, and now they're real palatial, at least Crumpet's is; I hate a lot of things, but I put in a big tub and—— Oh! gracious stars! I must go, so good-bye, dear old chum!" Toney Whitburn held out a strong young hand and her companion grasped it. "Look here, Toney, if you are in trouble or want anything, anything, you know—you'll ask me to help you—promise?" "Of course I will. Haven't I just now asked you about young men and offers, all because I thought you would know and wouldn't laugh." "Yes, thank you—and I'll come to-morrow in spite of not being sure I shall be welcome." "There! you are telling fibs like Madame, but honest truth, I'd rather have you and Jim at my party, than any other men I know." "Thanks awfully," and with a laugh the two separated. Toney galloped across the park, and the Squire was just going to jump the fence when he paused and looked back at her. "Oh, Toney, Toney," he said to himself; "when will you understand, but even if you did I'll never let that horrid old cat say I wanted your money! Hang it all—and now there's a beastly young secretary coming to be always in her pocket. Sir Evas ought to know better!" CHAPTER II. FIFTY THOUSAND A YEAR. Aldersfield House had changed very little outwardly since Antonia Whitburn and Trick had arrived there as lonely orphans. There was the same heavy, handsome, mid-Victorian furniture, the same stately and punctilious servants, or others of the same specie, because the same Lady Dove presided over the establishment. But as every human being changes for better or for worse, there was something even more displeasing than formerly in Lady Dove's face. She was a prey—and had been ever since the memorable day when she heard the news of Toney's good fortune—to the demon of jealousy, who never leaves his victims many peaceful moments, and just now he was her constant visitor. Toney had been very little at Aldersfield, because Sir Evas and Mr. Staines, the lawyer, had insisted on her having foreign advantages, and Lady Dove had eagerly acquiesced. The very sight of Toney increased her malady, but as no one knew this it had been decided that Toney should, for the present, live with her uncle and aunt, for everyone recognised that she had not learnt the use of money, and that it was not safe for her to be left quite unprotected. Strange to say Toney had not rebelled when she was told of this decision; she was very fond of her uncle, and though secretly she called Aunt Dove her "cross," she meant to carry the burden bravely so that Sir Evas should be able to be "off duty" as often as possible. The other plans that had been maturing in the mind of Harum Scarum were for the present kept a secret. Before Toney could take off her habit she was bidden to come and see Mr. Staines in her uncle's study, so she and Trick hastily ran in, and indeed, Trick, having got jambed between her feet, nearly succeeded in making his mistress tumble—as it was, she lurched into the room in a most undignified manner. "Gracious stars! I nearly took a header! It's Trick's fault. How do you do, Mr. Staines? I hope you won't be very solemn, as I want everyone to be awfully jolly to-morrow. I've made my own time-table this time," and the remembrance of Aunt Dove's time-table nearly upset Toney's gravity. Mr. Staines had happily a sense of fun, besides he knew what to expect and merely smiled. "It is my duty to be solemn, Miss Whitburn, but I fear it is an impossible duty in your presence! To-morrow you will come of age and you will have the sole control of your fortune. I tried to make General Stone insert some restrictions in his will, but he refused. I can still near our dear old friend saying, 'If you knew Toney Whitburn, Staines, you would know restrictions would be of no use!'" Sir Evas was smiling in his corner. Perhaps Toney's fortune had brought him more happiness than to anyone else, for being her guardian, he had been fully occupied during her minority, and the work had been a real pleasure and occupation for him. Besides this, once a year he had got a month—not in prison, but with Toney abroad, and what good times those had been, even though he always had to pay handsomely for them on his return home. Now he added, "The General was a very unwise man, and I do hope, Toney——" "Yes, I know, uncle!—— Oh dear, I suppose my youth has flown now! I've got to do such a lot of thinking—but look here, Mr. Staines, tell me the amount I may spend and I'll promise I'll do it." "This was what I wished to explain. Sir Evas Dove in accounting for his guardianship has left everything in order, and by a curious piece of luck he bought some land for you with some surplus money, which has turned out to be extremely valuable, as a rich vein of coal has been discovered on it. You will have—— Ehem—at least——" "Oh, I don't mind, Mr. Staines, so don't hesitate at the figure." "You will have fifty thousand a year, Miss Whitburn. It is a larger fortune than General Stone anticipated, and I can only hope that you will not long have to bear the burden of the fortune alone. Ehem—I hope that a happy marriage will—ere long——" Toney shook her head and laughed. "Oh no, it's no good hoping. Aunt Dove says no one would marry me except for the money, but I'll manage all right, and Uncle Evas will help, won't you!" "I do not wish to influence you, Toney, my duty ends to-day, but you have never wanted for pluck——" "No, no, certainly not," said the lawyer, "but if I may say so, Miss Whitburn, your ample pocket money seemed to melt in your hands. Several times you wrote to me for more, and in your last letter——" Toney laughed as she seized Trick in the act of making a dash at Mr. Staines' heels. "Yes, I know there was never enough. I'm a bit like Pups in that; our box was always getting empty, but there will be a heap now. Oh dear!" and Toney for a moment heaved a deep sigh. "I've kept the amount of Toney's fortune a secret, Mr. Staines, from—the neighbourhood," said Sir Evas, "it's better so; of course there are fortune hunters everywhere and—I think, my dear, you had better not mention the actual figures. Everyone knows you will have some money, but even your aunt does not know accurately." Sir Evas looked a little shame-faced. "Oh dear, I hate secrets," sighed Toney, "I'll try and say nothing—but gracious stars! I needn't tell anyone how it goes, need I, for it would be more than I could do?" "Of course you need not, but it is more business-like to keep accounts," said the lawyer sternly, "and to come to details, it would be better to give Lady Dove the same amount as she has had, as long as you live here." "Of course. You'll do that, Mr. Staines, and if you double it, perhaps she'll not dislike me so much." Sir Evas shook his head deprecatingly. "My dear child, you are welcome to all I can give you without return." "You dear old duck of an uncle, of course you shan't have a penny of it, but Aunt Dove won't mind pickings—for the estate you know! and there's extra servants to pay and a lot of—— Is that all, Mr. Staines? By the way, uncle and I have chosen a secretary, so that's a good thing over! Ouf! I do wish it wasn't such a lot of pelf, sort of stifles one, doesn't it? The basket of Gwyddnen Garanhir was nothing to it, but I'll not be crushed by such a silly thing as money, you bet—— Oh, I mustn't say that, eh, Trick?" "One thing more, Toney; I am going to give over to you the left wing of the house which we shut up some years ago. Your aunt agrees. (Lady Dove had said, "Pray do as you like, Evas, you always go against my wishes.") Come and see if it suits you. I've had it all done up." "Well, that's real kind; but indeed, uncle, Crumpet's room and mine would have done. I'll keep those, no one wants them, and she can come often and stay with me." Sir Evas led the way down a passage, and, opening a swing door, they passed through an old library full of books, with pretty windows looking over the park, and next to it a morning room painted white and furnished with old-fashioned oak things, which Lady Dove had long ago discarded as too much out of date. Beyond that again was a small garden room, opening out into the shrubbery. "These shall be for you, Toney, where you may receive your own friends, and there are two rooms above for the secretary. Mr. Staines agrees with me that—well, considering your fortune, it is more fitting for you to have some rooms you may call your own." "Oh!" exclaimed Toney, "it is just awfully nice, but—what will Aunt Dove say?" Sir Evas was thinking the same to himself. Lady Dove had not once come to see the result of his work, and he knew he would have to pay her bill as well as that of the work-people who had decorated the old rooms. Still, you don't give a coming of age present for nothing, and he hoped he should pay his debts honestly! "Trick, darling, here's your very own rooms, where you can bark as much as you like," and Toney, catching hold of her uncle, waltzed him round the room, regardless of Trick scampering after them barking and darting at the manly heels, whilst Mr. Staines stood by unable to hide a smile on his smooth lawyer-like face. "Spare me, Toney! and for goodness' sake remember you are twenty-one to-morrow! I fear Mr. Staines will think all your foreign experience has not made a grown-up young lady of you!" "Oh yes, it has!" said Toney, releasing him. "A sense of sorrow for my sins has grown awful big lately, and I never used to have it. It feels like indigestion, a lump here; but just this evening, uncle, I'll be young, and I'm so awfully pleased. I'll tell you what: you and I will have a sort of house-warming here next week, and ask just our very particular friends, but my party's coming first." "There's the Winchley ball," said the lawyer, "I suppose you mean to go to that." "Of course; I love dancing, and Uncle Dove must just come with me and hop a bit, but, Stars and Stripes, look! there's Crumpet's pony carriage and the fat pony bundling up the drive. I must go and get her out of it, for she's never got over her nervous feelings at driving up to Aldersfield. Uncle, remember it's her first visit here, and you will make her feel at home, won't you?" and Toney made a dash through the garden door and rushed to meet Mrs. Faber, who had come to spend two nights at Aldersfield House to celebrate Toney's coming of age. Mr. Faber was to appear the next day, and in the evening there was to be a great ball for the tenants and retainers, and others who had been invited. Sir Evas had had his way about this, and Lady Dove had grudgingly acquiesced, only saying that of course Antonia must pay all expenses. This time the tables were reversed, and now Toney received the once humble companion at the big house, instead of being received by her. "Oh, Crumpet, how nice! it's just perfect your coming like this. Jim! drive Mrs. Faber's carriage round, and take particular care of 'The Squire'" (this was the pony's name); "and oh, dear Chum, don't put on that scared look. Aunt Dove won't eat you; you're Mrs. Faber now, do remember that, and my honoured guest!" "Oh, Toney!" gasped Mrs. Faber, "I feel as if I ought to be doing the flowers and writing notes and——" and then the little woman with the Fra Angelico face smiled like a saint; the scars of ancient chains never having quite disappeared. "How I wish you had brought the piccaninnies; but it wouldn't do." "Who is here in my place?" asked Mrs. Faber as she entered the hall, keeping close to Toney whilst the butler relieved her of her wraps. "It's so funny, Crumpet; there's a companion here, Miss Grossman, who actually frightens Aunt Dove a little—she keeps strict hours and will not be put upon, but she knows her duties and is as strong as a horse. I can't help laughing! To be quite honest, she frightens me a little!" "Oh, no! no one ever frightened you! but, Toney, don't leave me." The butler opened the door and announced, "Mrs. Faber." The very fact of being announced at all to Lady Dove made Mrs. Faber wish to sink under the floor, but as this was not possible she bravely went forward behind Toney to greet her ancient slave-driver. "Aunt Dove, here's Mrs. Faber come. Isn't it good of her to leave the pic—the children to come to my birthday party?" Lady Dove stretched out two fingers without rising. "Good afternoon, Anne Faber," she said, severely emphasizing the name, and using the word "afternoon" to make Mrs. Faber remember she was still the tradesman's daughter whom for fifteen years she had befriended by letting her act as her companion. In spite of her previous resolutions to remember that she was Henry's wife, and was well received by all her own neighbourhood, Mrs. Faber felt miserable. Why had she come? only for Toney's sake would she have undergone this ordeal. "I'm quite well, thank you, Lady Dove," she answered, forgetting she had not been asked after her health, "and so are the children." "Oh, are they? I can't think how you are going to bring them up on, your small income. I always say the clergy should have no children; sooner or later they expect us to bring them up." "I'm sure Henry will never beg a penny for our children," said Mrs. Faber, the colour flushing her face, which, however, was no longer like ancient pastry, but was now adorned by a pretty delicate pink colour. Mrs. Faber really looked charming, and her dress was as dainty and simple as her face. Toney interposed. "But, Aunt Dove, I'm godmother to both the children; you'll see what good times they'll have! It's awfully good of my Chum to have children I can play with. Oh dear, I've got to feel grown-up, Mr. Staines says, but just for this evening I'll still be young." "Tea is coming in; sit down, Anne Faber, and kindly pour it out. That tiresome Grossman will never come in before five, as she insists on taking a walk till then. I really must give her notice, only one is afraid of getting something worse. You should never have married, Anne Faber. I got you quite into my ways, and since you left I've never had anyone who could write and read as you did." "I'm very sorry you are not suited," murmured Mrs. Faber, beginning to make the tea whilst Toney flew at the kettle; but at that moment a tall angular woman appeared, and gave a terrible look at Lady Dove and at the other two, as she said tartly, "It is five minutes to five; I am never late, Lady Dove, and, as you know, I never allow anyone to do my work. Excuse me——" "I wish you would not argue, Grossman. Miss Whitburn and Mrs. Faber are quite equal to making tea if I choose to ask them;" but then the door opened, and Sir Evas and the lawyer entered and stopped further bickering between Lady Dove and her companion. "Oh, Toney," whispered Sir Evas, "it's tartaric acid, I see; that woman's got a devil of a temper, and your Aunt Dove is really learning patience." CHAPTER III. BEFORE THE FRAY. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Faber later on, when Toney threw open her old sitting-room door where the poor companion had had such miserable hours. It was as comfortable as modern comfort bought with modern money could make it. Then the little woman fairly sat down and cried. "Gracious stars! I meant to make you laugh, Crumpet! Oh, gee! you see how hard it is to do right!" Mrs. Faber quickly dried her tears and smiled. "I can't help thinking of all my happiness now and comparing it with the past, and it's all owing to you, Toney. Do you remember——" "Of course I do. What mostest fun we had when I dressed in your grandmother's garments, and then when your dear Henry came!" "When I compare my past and my present I feel how ungrateful I am!" "Nonsense, Chum, you never were ungrateful! But look here, I got aunt's leave to furbish up this room a bit so that you shouldn't be reminded of the old order. I knew you would prefer our being together up here, and I've got lots to tell you. First, I've had some dresses made for you, so that you shouldn't be put to any expense for my party." Toney quickly opened a wooden box and displayed the most lovely dresses imaginable, lovely because suitable and perfectly simple. One was a dinner dress of pale mauve silk, just suited to Mrs. Faber's delicate complexion, and the other was a white liberty silk dress for the ball. Mrs. Faber gasped. "Oh no, Toney! it's impossible! They must have cost ever so much money, and I don't want people to say that I—I sponge upon you." "There you are again, Crumpet! 'People to say,' I did think that you'd rise above that. Remember Henry's pleasure—and mine!" "Henry may not think it right!" "Look here, Chum, let's be serious just for one minute and listen. You know I've an awful lot of money, fifty thousand a year!" Mrs. Faber gasped again. "It's a secret, by the way, but not from you. Well, when I first heard it I did what Pups would have done, I just dedicated it all to other people that wanted it, and I didn't guess it would be such hard work as I see it will be. After to-morrow I shall work like a Kanaka, but just for this week I'm going to please myself and not think if it's wise, or if it's political economy, or all the things I've been trying to learn to fit myself for spending this stuff." "It will be too much work for you, dear!" "Yes, it's awful! but I'm going to keep just enough to dress like Pups' daughter, because that's what I am. You know Aunt Dove never thought me fit to live here, and I'm not yet changed, you see! And there shall always be enough to take people abroad who want it every year, you, too, of course among the number, for you'll get so parochial if you don't rub about a little, that you must travel, and then the rest will have to be 'wisely distributed,' as Mr. Hales says. Ouf!" "Oh, dear, it is too much work," repeated Mrs. Faber, gently feeling the dinner dress between her fingers; she had never had a gown like that before, and how proud Henry would be of her appearance! "So, Crumpet, don't ever think of me as rich. I shan't be, I'll have to screw sometimes on the allowance I'll make myself, but that's for discipline. Aunt Dove will have a nice slice of cake to make her happy—if she can be—and well, that's all, now remember I'm just the same old Toney with all her faults as of old, and too bad for anyone to love for herself, Aunt Dove says so—except you always, Crumpet. Now I'll ring for Rose to help us to dress." "Where's your dress, dear Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber, going across to Toney's simple bedroom on which no money had been spent to embellish it. "It's here. You see, Chum, it's only white muslin, but it's brand new and looks all right." "Oh, Toney, much too simple, why anyone might wear that!" "Well, I am disappointed in you! Didn't I explain quite straight I'm only Toney, and not rich, if I dressed up smart—which you know I hate any way—people would think I was rich. I believe you would like me to wear a dress of bank-notes sewed together. I did think you weren't worldly!" "I'll try, dear, but when you make me wear such a lovely thing, though I'm only a poor clergyman's wife with three hundred a year, it doesn't seem quite——" "It's to please me! Just for once I must have a fling, and after that I'll be as matter of fact as you like." At this moment Rose appeared. She had been kitchen-maid, but Toney had hunted her up and turned her into a lady's maid, as Lady Dove insisted on Toney's engaging such a personage, saying her own maid had as much as she could do with her own affairs. Rose was supremely happy, but far more willing than capable, and Toney managed to do all her own toilet whilst she was getting Mrs. Faber into her dream dress. Toney had begged her uncle that they should be by themselves at Aldersfield this evening, just to seem like old times, and he had agreed, though Mr. Staines, the London lawyer, was of course one of the small party. Miss Grossman never appeared after the dinner bell had rung, and firmly refused any summons to the drawing-room after that meal, saying she had her own affairs to see after. Her ladyship had been very angry of course, and relieved her feelings by grumbling to her husband. She was discharging her wrath at him this evening before going up to dress. "Grossman has very erroneous ideas of her duty, Evas. It's preposterous to refuse to pour out the evening tea and to take out the cards or pick up my stitches. I should never have engaged her if I could have guessed what she would be like." "Why don't you get rid of her, Melina?" "How aggravating you can be, Evas, you know quite well the last woman drank, and the one before was deaf and heard all awry. If I sent Grossman away, which I should dearly love to do, her successor would have a worse failing." "Yes, most likely," he answered. "That's just like you, Evas, you never try to help me." "Shall I have a talk with her?" "You have a talk with Grossman! Pray don't joke! she'd tell you to mind your own business; that woman is afraid of no one, positively no one! I wish Faber would die, and then I could have Crump back again, for then she would be penniless." "And the two children?" "Yes, it's really wicked of them! I should have to get them into asylums. Most provoking, ever since Antonia stepped into the house everything has gone from bad to worse. However, she is sure to get married soon for her money!" "Did you ever think Lewis Waycott admired Toney?" said Sir Evas, hoping to please his spouse by this suggestion. "Lewis Waycott! He's going to marry his cousin Maud. Mrs. Hamilton arranged all that long ago. But I dare say you are right, and he will throw up that nice girl for Toney's money bags. After all we have done for her—and it's entirely through me she has this money, for I told the General the plain truth about her penniless condition—I think Antonia could show her gratitude more by imitating our English manners. What's bred in the bone, I know, but she might at least pretend to be a lady." "Pretend! You might know by this time that Toney can't pretend." "Oh, you men are all taken with a young girl, I know! Duty goes to the wind when——" But here Sir Evas slipped away to dress; now and then his manners failed entirely, and he did not always wait for the end of his wife's sentences. This evening, as her ladyship walked upstairs, her familiar demon provided a new torture for her. Suppose what Evas said were true, suppose Lewis Waycott fell in love with Antonia and married her and her fortune, his estate would benefit enormously, and the Waycotts would be a power in the county. "Antonia shall certainly not marry Lewis Waycott," she said to herself, "I can nip that in the bud—and I shall." Then, with a smile on her face, she rang for Rivett, who was as prim as formerly, but now she could no longer bully the companion, as Miss Grossman was fully able to keep her own position and to exact outward respect from the servants. That evening in the drawing-room at Aldersfield, Toney's very presence seemed to shame the selfish stateliness of Lady Dove, for she had more than fulfilled the promise of beauty, though of a special kind. Her face was radiant, and her beautiful hair seemed to crown the perfect outline of her head. Her very simplicity of dress might have been premeditated, so entirely did it harmonize with the girl whose every motion was full of life and the beauty that comes from perfect unconsciousness of self. Certainly three of the people there were secretly speculating what fortunate man would win Toney's heart. At present her heart was given to humanity, and had never experienced the personal feeling which may make or mar perfect womanhood, but which never passes without leaving its trace. Mr. Staines made a formal bow to Lady Dove and offered his arm, whilst Toney looked at Sir Evas who hesitated. "Of course, uncle, married ladies first," and Sir Evas offered his arm to the blushing Anne Faber, but thinking of Henry she determined to make the most of herself, and Toney would be close by, besides, abroad she and Sir Evas had become most friendly, and this was a wonderful transformation. Mr. Staines was so attentive to Lady Dove that the other three were allowed to enjoy themselves. "Are the preparations all ready, uncle? Did you see if the big barn was finally swept out, and if the rose wreaths were finished?" "I assure you, Toney, I've worked myself to death." "And did you send out all the invitations I wrote?" "Every one. I got Barnes and Jones to take them round a week ago. I only hope your scrawls were readable!" "I thought they would like it best, a personal invitation is much better, isn't it?" "What did you say, Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber. "Miss Toney Whitburn will be much delighted if Mrs. Spratt will come and have a dinner and dance on October 28th, at Aldersfield House. Dinner punctually at six o'clock, family included—babies taken care of." "But you'll have all the village!" "All uncle's people, of course. Won't it be fun! Uncle and I planned it all weeks ago. Didn't we, dear?" "You planned it, Toney, and I said yes. I know my duty!" "But you were as excited as I was. You know you were! I do wish my dear General were here. Do you think he and Pups will look on?" "Well, I expect—— I shouldn't wonder," said poor Sir Evas, whose ethics of the world beyond were very hazy, "or, perhaps they can see a long way off." "Pups said that there were no real lines of demarcation in nature, but, of course, you would not want everybody who's dead to crowd in. It's just a puzzle! The cook is excited too. Oh, Chum, I've ordered the dinner as I'm going to pay all expenses, and you'll see. It took a good deal of planning, but I didn't tell uncle all that, I was just a bit afraid he'd split on me." "I'm as dark as the grave, Toney!" said Sir Evas laughing, "but I must say I shall be glad when it's over. One never knows with you——" "Are we all to dance together?" asked Mrs. Faber. "At first, but there's a ball in the big drawing-room for the people who don't care about the tenants, only they won't be half so lively. Mr. Waycott's promised he'll be at the opening of my ball, and Dr. Latham, and, of course, you and uncle. I don't think Aunt Dove will care. She says poor people are not odoriferous. It comes from their clothes being rather old. I wished we lived in the days of Henry IV., when every poor man had a fowl in his cooking-pot." "A fowl wouldn't go far with Charles Pipkin and his family," said Sir Evas, "it did all very well for the Frenchies." "It is fortunate girls only come of age once in their lifetime," Lady Dove was saying. "When I was young it meant a young lady was fully formed and educated, and her manners were irreproachable; I fear we can't say that of Antonia, Mr. Staines." "All in due time, Lady Dove," was Mr. Staines' guarded answer. "Really how horribly Grossman has arranged these flowers, and taken all my best roses too," exclaimed her ladyship. "You were much more successful, Anne Faber. It seems a pity you can no longer use your talents." "My husband is passionately fond of flowers, we always have some on the table," murmured Mrs. Faber. "Indeed! It's a pity flowers are not edible. Mr. Staines, how is Captain Stone. He is another eccentric creature, and has not been to see us for a long time, but he asked for a bed to-morrow." "He told me of his intention. He was very fond of his brother." "The General's will must have been a bitter pill to him," said Lady Dove smiling. Mr. Staines saw clearly that it was Lady Dove who had swallowed the pill, and replied politely, "I know that the General asked his brother's consent, and Captain Stone thought all his brother did perfect." "Indeed! men are so deluded, I mean the old ones of course. Lewis Waycott, our neighbour, is fast turning into the same kind of man. He has become quite the farmer, don't you think so, Evas?" "What, my dear, Lewis Waycott? Yes, certainly, excellent fellow; sees after his cottages now, and is quite a model landlord." |
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