"he would be incapable ofanything so coarse, and you should have a higher opinion of _my_ tasteand perception too. All he says is in the very nicest way, reallyshowing that he saw you to be--well, something out of the common, whichyou certainly are."
"All the same," said Philippa, "I wish you would leave off talking aboutme while you are here, at all. It is very unwise."
"I don't think so," said Evelyn. "When I'm talking about you to MrGresham, I feel quite comfortable! I quite forget about you being here,and think of you as if you were at home. Of course," looking a littleashamed of herself, "I have said once or twice: `How I do wish she werehere!' thinking of you as your proper self, you know."
Philippa looked very grave. She did not like the idea of any suchprevarication on her sister's part, and was on the point of saying so,till a moment's reflection reminded her that she had scarcely a right todo so. So she contented herself with remarking quietly that in futureshe begged her sister to avoid all mention of her name.
"I cannot promise anything of the kind," said Evelyn. "Mr Gresham hasgot interested in you now, and I am--" She stopped short.
"Well, what?" asked Philippa.
Evelyn blushed a little.
"Interested in his interest, I suppose," she admitted, with a littlelaugh. "I cannot help wondering," she went on, "when or where, or how,you and he may meet again. I am sure you would have so much in common,"and it did not require much flight of imagination on the youngersister's part to see whither Evelyn's thoughts were tending.
She was both touched and annoyed, the practical effect of thisconversation being to make her wish more devoutly than ever that theirtime at Wyverston were over. Other feelings were strongly influencingher in this wish. For utterly unreasonable as she knew it to be, shewas conscious of a curious resentment against Michael Gresham, whom shehad not been able to avoid meeting--thanks generally to Solomon now andthen, either on the moor or nearer home, for tacitly accepting herpresent personality, even while in a sense grateful to him for doing so.For that he had guessed some part of her secret, guessed, at least,that she _had_ a secret, she felt perfectly sure, and the consciousnessof this irritated her and reacted in curiously contradictory andcapricious ways.
Fortunately, as she told herself, though here, too, her inconsistencycame in, she had never come across the elder of the two cousins.Evelyn's dissertations made her doubly careful as regarded him, yet shehad a worrying curiosity to see him again, if only she could do so,herself unseen. And but for an additional reason for precaution whichreached her a day or two later through her sister, she might have beentempted to some more or less reckless step for the gratification of thissame curiosity, absurd and contemptible though she called it to herself.
This new danger lay in the discovery of the fact that should fate leadto the two Greshams laying their heads together about "Miss Raynsworth,"her identity with Michael's fellow-traveller would be by no meansunlikely to suggest itself.
Evelyn was full of her last piece of interesting information concerningMr Bernard Gresham when she came up to bed a night or two after theconversation already recorded.
"Philippa," she exclaimed, as soon as they were safely shut in for thenight, "I have found out ever so much more about my charming MrGresham. His home is in Nethershire--a place called Merle-in-the-Wold--isn't that a fascinating name? I am sure I have heard of it before.Didn't _you_ speak of it, by-the-by? I said to him I was sure I hadheard it mentioned quite lately, as such a lovely part of the country."
"Oh, Evelyn," said Philippa, aghast, "do be careful. Yes, no doubt Ispoke of it. I passed that way on my return from Dorriford. But whatmight not come of it, if you had mentioned me in connection with it?""Nothing," says Evelyn, sensibly enough. "He knows my sister was atDorriford, there is no secret about _that_, and he probably knows thatyou would pass Merle-in-the-Wold on your way to Marlby. You are gettingmorbid and stupid, Phil, about being found out. And no one heard whatwe were talking about, except--oh, Mr Gresham has all but asked us topay him a visit, I, of course, as your chaperon, though he would have amarried sister and her husband there, too. Phil," clasping her hands,"we _must_ go. It would be too lovely--we two together."
"And what about a maid?" said Philippa, grimly.
"Oh, I don't exactly know; I must plan something when we go home. I amsure I could think of some arrangement if I had a little time. I almostthink I will send away the under-nurse--she is a stupid little thing,and though her wages are small, Dorcas says her appetite is enormous. Icould get a nice _young_ maid, who would not object to help a littlewith the children, for a few pounds a year more. I am sure Duke wouldnot mind, and very likely her eating less would make up the difference.You see, I shall have to be planning all about a house in a very fewmonths now, Phil. And if the old people here really take us up, Dukewill be so delighted that he will agree to anything."
She was chattering on, when a word in her former speech recurred toPhilippa.
"Wait a moment, Evey," she said. "You did not finish what you weresaying before. You said no one heard what you and Mr Gresham weretalking about, `except?' Except whom--one of the Headforts?"
"No--what does it matter? I was only going to say except that stupidMichael Gresham--he was staring at a book, as far as I remember. Idon't suppose he did hear what we were saying. And, do listen, Phil--don't you see, as I was saying, once Duke has the position--almost, onemay say, the _recognised_ position of heir, there will be things that we_must_ do, out of respect for the family even, like my having a--"
But the latter part of Evelyn's speech had conveyed little meaning toher sister's brain, so startled was she by the careless announcementthat if any one had overheard what Evelyn and Mr Gresham had beentalking about, it had been his cousin.
Had he done so, or had he not? Who could say? And what possibility wasthere of discovering the facts of the case?
Philippa trembled as she realised the consequences of Michael Gresham'shaving taken in the whole bearings of her sister's chatter. No specialpower of discernment would be required, nothing but the simplest, mosteveryday faculty on his part of putting two and two together, to satisfyhim as to the identity of Mrs Marmaduke Headfort's sister and the girlhe had travelled with. And her trepidation was by no means selfish; sheforgot about the disagreeables which would certainly ensue to herself ifthe strange little plot were to be disclosed, in realising the injuriouseffect it would certainly have upon Evelyn and her belongings.
"Oh, Evey!" she began, impulsively, but checked herself before sayingmore. What right had she to blame Evelyn, whose words would have beenperfectly harmless but for her own unnecessary communication to MichaelGresham in the train? Still more, what could be less expedient thannow, when the mischief was done, to startle and alarm her sister, andeffectually destroy her ease and unconstraint during the few days theymust still pass at Wyverston?
"No," she decided in her own mind. "I must think it over by myself, andI must face it by myself. I have got Evelyn into the danger, and I mustget her out of it at all costs. No one must ever be able to blame _her_in the least."
But, oh! if she could but think that Michael had not caught the sense ofEvelyn's words--Evelyn called him "stupid;" but that he certainly couldnot be in the real sense of the word, for she had heard, even in theservants'-hall, allusions to the position he had gained for himself inhis profession, but "unobservant?" Could she hope that his perceptionswere not very keen? Many clever men were dull and slow in ordinarylife, and by all accounts he did not shine in society. But even thisflattering unction failed her as she recalled the keen, "interested"expression of his somewhat deep-set eyes, and the half-sarcastic,half-humorous lines of the whole physiognomy that first morning ofmeeting him in the wood--the unlucky morning when she had forgotten herspectacles, and in the exhilaration of the fresh air and novelsurroundings had been far less on her guard than she now was.
All this train of thought passed through her mind far more rapidly thanit takes to describe
the process, so rapidly that she had made up hermind to silence as regarded Evelyn, before her sister had fully taken inthe scant attention which Philippa was bestowing on her words.
"Philippa," she exclaimed, at last catching sight of the girl's graveface, "what are you thinking about? You are always very good atcheering me up when I am in low spirits, but I must say that when I amfeeling bright and hopeful, and with good reason, you are _not_ verysympathising. Don't you care to hear about my plans?"
"Of course I do," said Philippa, compelling herself to speak lightly,"but we have oceans of time before us to talk over everything in, andyou have
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