CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
_September 20th_.I expected Vere to be quite different after this--to give up being coldand defiant, and be her own old self. I thought it was a kind ofcrisis, and that she would go on getting better and better--morally, Imean. But she doesn't! At least, if she does, it is only by fits andstarts. Sometimes she is quite angelic for a whole day, and the nextmorning is so crotchety and aggravating that it nearly drives one wild.I suppose no one gets patient and long-suffering all at once; it is likeconvalescence after an illness--up and down, up and down, all the time;but it's disappointing to the nurses. She does try, poor dear, but itmust be difficult to go on trying when one day is exactly like the last,and you do nothing but lie still, and your back aches, aches, aches.Jim is not always present to lavish his devotion upon her, and now thatthe first agitation is over we onlookers are getting used to seeing herill, and are less frantically attentive than at first, which, of course,must be trying, too; but one cannot always live at high pressure. Ibelieve one would get callous about earthquakes if they only happenedoften enough.
Summer is passing away and autumn coming on, and it grows damp andmouldy, and we have to sit indoors for most of the day. When I have anytime to think of myself I feel so tired; and one day Vere saidabruptly--
"Babs, you are thin! Upon my word, child, I can see your cheek-bones.What have you been doing to yourself?"
Thin! Blessed word! I leapt from my seat and rushed to the nearestglass, and it was true! I stared, and stared, and wondered where myeyes had been these last weeks. My cheeks had sunk till they were ovalinstead of round. I looked altogether about half the old size. Whatwould the girls say if they could behold their old "Circle" now? Itused to be my ambition to be described as a "tall, slim girl," and now Iturned, and twisted, and attitudinised before that glass, and, honestly,that was just exactly what I looked! I took hold of my dress, and itbagged! I put my fingers inside my belt, and the whole hand slippedthrough! My face of rapture made Vere laugh with almost the old trill.
"You goose! You look as if you had come into a fortune! I don't denythat it is an improvement, but you mustn't overdo it. It would be toohard luck for mother if we were both ill at the same time. All thisanxiety has been too much for you. I had better turn nurse, and let yoube patient for a little time, and I'll prescribe a little change andexcitement. Firstly, a becoming new toilette for dinner to-night, inwhich you can do justice to your charms."
Vere never dines with us now, as the evenings are her worst time, andshe spends them entirely in her own little sitting-room. I am alwayswith her to read aloud, or play games, or talk, just as she prefers; butthis night there were actually some people coming to dinner for thefirst time since the pre-historic ages before the fire. The peoplearound had been very kind and attentive, and mother thought it our dutyto ask a few of them; so four couples were coming, and Will Dudley topair with me. It was quite an excitement after our quiet days; and Verecalled her maid, and sent her to bring down one or two evening dresseswhich had been rescued uninjured from a hanging cupboard and leftuntouched until now, in the box in which they had been packed.
"Miss Una is so much thinner, I believe she could get into them now,Terese; and I have a fancy to dress her up to-night and see what we canmake of her," she said, smiling; and Terese beamed with delight, not somuch at the thought of dressing me, as in joy at hearing her belovedmistress take an interest in anything again. She adores Vere, as allservants do. It's because she makes pretty speeches to them and praisesthem when they do things well, instead of treating them like machines,as most people do. In my superior moments I used to think that she washypocritical, while I myself was honest and outspoken; but I ambeginning to see that praise is sometimes more powerful than blame. Iam really becoming awfully grown-up and judicious. I hardly know myselfsometimes.
Well, Terese brought in three dresses, and I tried them on insuccession, and Vere decided which was most becoming, and directedlittle alterations, and said what flowers I was to wear, and how my hairwas to be done, just exactly as if I were a new doll which made anamusing plaything. I had to be dressed in her room, too, and she laywatching me with her big wan eyes, issuing directions to Terese, andsaying pretty things to me. It was one of her very, very nicest days,and I did love her.
When the last touch was given I surveyed myself in the long mirror and"blushed at my own reflection," like the girl in books who is going toher first ball. I really did look my very, very nicest, and so grownup, and sort of fragile and interesting, instead of the big, hulkingschoolgirl of a year ago. The lovely moonshiny dress would have suitedanyone, and Terese had made my hair look just about twice as thick aswhen I do it myself. I can't think how she manages! I did feelpleased, and thought it sweet of Vere to be pleased too, for it was notin girl nature to avoid feeling lone and lorn at being left alone,stretched on that horrid couch. She tried to smile bravely as I lefther to go downstairs, but her lips trembled a little, and she said in awistful way--
"Perhaps, if I feel well enough, you might bring Mr Dudley up to see mefor a few minutes after dinner. Terese will let you know how I am."
I had to promise, of course, but I didn't like doing it. It didn't seemfair either to Rachel or to Jim Carstairs to let these two see too muchof each other, or to Vere herself, for that matter; for I always have akind of dread that this time it may not be all pretence on her side.She seems a little different when Will is there, less absolutelyconfident and sure of herself.
The four couples arrived in good time. How uninteresting middle-agedcouples are! One always wondered why they married each other, for theyseem so prosy and matter-of-fact. When I am a middle-aged couple, orhalf of one, I shall be like father and mother, and carry about with methe breath of eternal romance, as Lorna would say, and I shall "Bant,"and never allow myself to grow stout, and simply annihilate my husbandif he dares to call me "my dear." Fancy coming down to being a "mydear" in a cap!
I had gone into the conservatory to show some plants to funny old baldMr Farrer, and when he toddled out to show a bloom to his wife I cameface to face with Will, standing in the entrance by himself, looking sohandsome and bored. He gave a quick step forward as he saw me andexclaimed first "Babs!" and then, with a sudden change of voice andmanner, almost as if he were startled--
"Una!"
He didn't shake hands with me, and I felt a little bit scared and shy,for it is only very, very rarely that he calls me by my name, and I havea kind of feeling that when he does he likes me more than usual. It wasVere's dress, of course; perhaps it made me look like her. We went backinto the drawing-room, and stood in a corner like dummies until dinnerwas announced.
I thought it would have been such fun, but it wasn't. Will was dull anddistrait, and he hardly looked at me once, and talked about sensibleimpersonal things the whole time. Of course, I like sensibleconversation; one feels humiliated if a man does nothing but frivol, butthere is a happy medium. When you are nineteen and looking your best,you don't care to be treated as if you were a hundred and fifty, and afright at that. Will and I have always been good friends, and beingengaged as he is, I expect him to be perfectly frank and out-spoken.
I tried to be lively and keep the conversation going, but it was such aneffort that I grew tired, and I really think I am rather delicate foronce in my life, for what with the exertion and the depression, I feltquite ill by the time dessert was on the table. All the ladies said howpale I was in the drawing-room, and mother puckered her eyebrows whenshe looked at me. Dear, sweet mother! It was horrid of me to bepleased at anything which worried her, but when you have been of noaccount, and all the attention has been lavished on someone else, it isreally rather soothing to have people think of you for a change.
Terese met me coming out of the dining-room, and said that Vere was wellenough to see Mr Dudley, so I took him upstairs as soon as he appeared.Passing through the hall, I saw a letter addressed
to me in Lorna'shandwriting, on the table, and carried it up with me to read while theywere talking. They wouldn't want me, and it would be a comfort toremember that Lorna did. I was just in the mood to be a martyr, so whenI had seen Will seated beside the couch, and noticed that Vere had beenarrayed for the occasion in her prettiest wrap, with frilled cushioncovers to match, I went right off to the end of the room and sat down onthe most uncomfortable chair I could find. When one feels low it iscomical what a relief it is to punish oneself still further. When Ithought myself ill-used as a child, I used always to refuse tart andcream, which I loved, and eat rice pudding, which I hated. Theuncomfortable chair was the rice pudding in this instance, but I soonforgot all about it, and even about Vere and Will, in the excitement ofreading that letter.
"My own Maggie,--(on the second day after we met at school Lorna and I decided to call each other `Maggie'--short for `magnetic attraction'-- but we only do it when we write, otherwise it excites curiosity, and that is horrid in matters of the heart!)--My own Maggie,--It is ages since I heard from you, darling. Why didn't you answer my letter last week? But I know how occupied you are, poor angel, and won't scold you as you deserve. I think of you every moment of the day, and do so long to be able to help you to bear your heavy burden. How little we thought when you went home how soon the smiling future would turn into a frown! We both seem to have left our careless youth far behind, for I have my own trials too, though nothing to yours, my precious darling.
"I have heaps to tell you. I decided to have the blue dress, after all, and the dressmaker has made it sweetly, with dozens of little tucks. I wore it at an afternoon `At Home' yesterday, and it looked lovely. Lots of people were there. Wallace took me. He is at home helping with the practice. Maggie, my darling, I am really writing to ask you the most awful favour. Would you, could you, come down to stay with us for a few weeks? I do long for you so. There is no one on earth but you to whom I can speak my utmost thoughts, and I feel all bottled up, for there are some things one can't write. I know you feel this, too, dearest, for there is a change in the tone of your letters, and I read between the lines that you have lots to tell me. We could have great sport with Wallace to take us about, and the people around are very hospitable, and always ask us out when we have a visitor. Wallace saw your photograph one day, and said you were `ripping,' and he is quite keen on your coming, though, as a rule, he doesn't care for girls. Mother will write to Mrs Sackville if you think there is the slightest chance that you can be spared. Of course, darling, if you feel it your duty to stay at home I won't persuade you to come. You remember how we vowed to urge each other to do our best and noblest, but perhaps if you had a little change you would go back refreshed and able to help your people better than you can at present. Anyway, write soon, darling, and put me out of my suspense. I sha'n't sleep a wink till I hear. Oh, the bliss of having you all to myself! How we would talk!
"Your own Maggie."
Yes, it would indeed be bliss! I longed for Lorna, but it did not seempossible to go away and enjoy myself, and leave Vere so helpless andsad. I decided not to say a word about the invitation, but I couldn'thelp thinking about it. Lorna lived in a big town house in the middleof a street; her father is a busy doctor, and is not at all rich, butvery jolly. She is the only unmarried girl, and has half-a-dozenbrothers in all stages, from twelve up to Wallace, who is a doctor, andthinks my photograph is "ripping!" It all seemed so tempting, and sorefreshingly different from anything I have known. I began imagining itall--the journey, meeting Lorna at the station, and tearing about withall those funny, merry boys, instead of tiptoeing about a sick-room;Wallace being nice and attentive to me, instead of in love with someoneelse, as all the men at home seem to be, and Lorna creeping into my bedat night, with her hair in a funny, tight little pigtail, and talking,talking, talking for hour after hour. Oh, I did want to go so badly!The tears came to my eyes for very longing. My resolution did not waverone bit, but I was dreadfully sorry for myself, all the same.
Suddenly I became aware that there was a dead silence in the room. Howlong it had lasted I can't tell, but when I looked up there were Vereand Will staring at me, and looking as if they had been staring for anage, and couldn't understand what on earth was the matter. I jumped andgot red, and blinked away the tears, and Vere said--
"What is the matter, child? Have you had bad news? You look as if yourheart was broken!"
"Oh, no--there's no news at all. I am tired, I think, and stupid, andwasn't thinking of what I was doing."
"You seemed to be thinking of something pretty deeply; and what businesshave you to be tired--a baby like you? I have been prescribing for herto-day, Mr Dudley. Have you noticed how thin she has grown? Shehadn't discovered it herself until I told her, wonderful to relate."
"I don't think she has thought of herself at all these last few months,"said Will, quietly.
He only just gave one glance at me, and then looked away, and I wasthankful, for every drop of blood in my body seemed to fly to my face inthe joy of hearing him praise me like that. Vere did not speak for amoment or two, and then she just asked who the letter was from.
"Lorna Forbes. She writes every week. I haven't written to her for anage--nearly a month."
They both knew about Lorna, and teased me about her when I quoted heropinion, and now, to my surprise, Will lifted his eyes from the carpet,and said, looking me full in the face--
"And she wants you to pay her a visit, and you think you ought not togo?"
How could he guess? I was so taken aback that at first I could onlygasp and stare.
"How in the world did you know?" I asked at last, and he smiled andsaid--
"Your face was very eloquent. It was very easy to read, wasn't it, MissSackville?"
"I did not find it so transparent as you seem to have done; I suppose Iam dense," Vere replied, with a laugh that sounded a little bitstrained. "Is it true, Babs? Has Mr Dudley read the signs correctly?"
I had to confess, making as light of it as possible, but they weren'tdeceived a bit.
"You hardly looked as if you didn't `care,'" Will remarked drily, andVere said quite quickly and eagerly--
"You must go, Babs--of course you must go! It is the very thing youneed. You have been a ministering angel to me, and I'm very grateful,but I don't want the responsibility of making you ill. Change and thebeloved Lorna will soon bring back your roses, and it will be amusing tohear of your escapades when you return. Don't think of me! It is goodfor me to be quiet, and there are plenty of friends who will come in foran hour or two if I feel the need of society. You will take pity on me,won't you, Mr Dudley? You will come sometimes and have tea with motherand me?"
"I shall be delighted," said Will, gravely. As for me, I didn't knowwhether to be most pleased or depressed. I should pay my visit toLorna, that was practically settled from the moment Vere approved of theproposal, which was one nice thing; and another was her remark that Ihad been an angel; but it seemed as if I could be very easily spared,and I had grown to think myself indispensable these last few weeks. Wetalked a little more about it, and then Will and I went downstairs. Hedidn't speak until we were nearly at the drawing-room door, when he saidabruptly--
"You are very eager to get away! Are you so tired of this neighbourhoodand all the people it contains?"
"Oh, so tired! so utterly, utterly tired!" I cried earnestly.
It sounded rude, perhaps, but at the moment I really felt it. I hadreached the stage of tiredness when I had a perfect craving for achange. He didn't say a word, but stalked straight forward, and neverspoke to me again except to say good-night. It doesn't concern me, ofcourse, but I do hope for Rachel's sake that he hasn't a sulky nature.
Heigh-ho for Lorna! I am going at the end of next week. I ampositively bursting with delight!
The Heart of Una Sackville Page 14
