CHAPTER II
WEDDING ARRANGEMENTS
It was certainly not love at first sight that prompted Mrs. Bathurst totake a fancy to Isabel Everard.
Secretly Dinah had dreaded their meeting, fearing that innate antagonismwhich her mother invariably seemed to cherish against the upper class.But within a quarter of an hour of their meeting she was aware of achange of attitude, a quenching of the hostile element, a curious andwholly new sensation of peace.
For though Isabel's regal carriage and low, musical voice, marked her asone of the hated species, her gentleness banished all impression ofpride. She treated Dinah's mother with an assumption of friendliness thathad in it no trace of condescension, and she was so obviously sincere inher wish to establish a cordial relation that it was impossible to remainungracious.
"I can't feel that we are strangers," she said, with her rare smile whenDinah had departed to fetch the tea. "Your little Dinah has done so muchfor me--more than I can ever tell you. That I am to have her for a sisterseems almost too good to be true."
"I wonder you think she's good enough," remarked Mrs. Bathurst in herblunt way. "She isn't much to look at. I've done my best to bring her upwell, but I never thought of her turning into a fine lady. I question ifshe's fit for it."
"If she were a fine lady, I don't think I should think so highly of her,"Isabel said gently. "But as to her being unfit to fill a high position,she is only inexperienced and she will learn very quickly. I am willingto teach her all in my power."
"Aye, learn to despise her mother," commented Mrs. Bathurst, with suddenbitterness, "after all the trouble I've taken to make her respect me."
"I should never teach her that," Isabel answered quietly. "And I am surethat she would be quite incapable of learning it. Mrs. Bathurst, do youreally think that worldly position is a thing that greatly matters toanyone in the long run? I don't."
It was then that a faint, half-grudging admiration awoke in the elderwoman's resentful soul, and she looked at Isabel with the first glimmerof kindliness. "You're right," she said slowly, "it don't matter to thosewho've got it. But to those who haven't--" her eyes glowed red for amoment--"you don't know how it galls," she said.
And then she flushed dully, realizing that she had made a confidante ofone of the hated breed.
But Isabel's hand was on hers in a moment; her eyes, full ofunderstanding, looked earnest friendship into hers. "Oh, I know," shesaid. "It is the little things that gall us all, until--until somegreat--some fundamental--sorrow wrenches our very lives in twain. Andthen--and then--one can almost laugh to think one ever cared about them."
Her voice throbbed with feeling. She had lifted the veil for a moment tosalve the other woman's bitterness.
And Mrs. Bathurst realized it, and was touched. "Ah! You've suffered,"she said.
Isabel bent her head. "But it is over," she said. "I married a man who,they said, was beneath me. But--God knows--he was above me--in every way.And then--I lost him." Her voice sank.
Mrs. Bathurst's hand came down with a clumsy movement upon hers. "Hedied?" she said.
"Yes." Almost in a whisper Isabel made answer. "For years I would notface it--would not believe it. He went from me so suddenly--oh, God, sosuddenly--" a tremor of anguish sounded in the low words; but in a momentshe raised her head, and her eyes were shining with a brightness that nopain could dim. "It is over," she said. "It is quite, quite over. Mynight is past and can never come again. I am waiting now for the fullday. And I know that I have not very long to wait. I have not seenhim--no, I have not seen him. But--twice now--I have heard his voice."
"Poor soul! Poor soul!" said Mrs. Bathurst.
It was all the sympathy she could express; but it came from her heart.She no longer regretted her own burst of confidence. The spontaneousanswer that it had evoked had had a magically softening effect upon her.In all her life no one had ever charmed her thus. She was astonishedherself at the melting of her hardness.
"You've suffered worse than I have," she said, "for I never cared for anyman like that. I was let down badly when I was a girl, and I've never hadany opinion of any of 'em since. My husband's all right, so far as hegoes. But he isn't the sort of man to worship. Precious few of 'em are."
Whereat Isabel laughed, a soft, sad laugh. "That is why worldly positionmatters so little," she said. "If by chance the right man really comes,nothing else counts. He is just everything."
"Maybe you're right," said Mrs. Bathurst, with gloomy acquiescence."Anyhow, it isn't for me to say you're wrong."
And this was why when Dinah brought in the tea, she found a wholly newelement in the atmosphere, and missed the customary sharp rebuke from hermother's lips when she had to go back for the sugar-tongs.
She had been disappointed that her friend Scott had not been of theparty. Isabel's explanation that he had gone home at Eustace's wish toattend to some business had not removed an odd little hurt sense ofhaving been defrauded. She had counted upon seeing Scott that day. It wasalmost as if he had failed her when she needed him, though why she seemedto need him she could not have said, nor could he possibly have knownthat she would do so.
Sir Eustace was in her father's den. She was sure that they were gettingon very well together from the occasional bursts of laughter with whichtheir conversation was interspersed. They were not apparently stickingexclusively to business. And now that Isabel had won her mother, deeplythough she rejoiced over the conquest, she felt a little--a verylittle--forlorn. They were all talking about her, but if Scott had beenthere he would have talked to her and made her feel at ease. She couldnot understand his going, even at his brother's behest. It seemedincredible that he should not want to see her home.
She sat meekly in the background, thinking of him, while she drank hertea; and then, just as she finished, there came the sound of voices atthe door, and her father and Sir Eustace came in. They were laughingstill. Evidently the result of the interview was satisfactory to both.Sir Eustace greeted his hostess with lofty courtesy, and passed onstraight to her side.
She turned and tingled at his approach; he was looking more princely thanever. Instinctively she rose.
"What do you want to get up for?" demanded her mother sharply.
Sir Eustace reached his little trembling _fiancee_, and took the eagerhand she stretched to him. His blue eyes flashed their fierce flame overher upturned, quivering face. "Take me into the kitchen--anywhere!" hemurmured. "I want you to myself."
She nodded. "Don't you want any tea? All right. Dad doesn't either. I'llclear away."
"No, you don't!" her mother said. "You sit down and behave yourself!You'll clear when I tell you to; not before."
Sir Eustace wheeled round to her, the flame of his look turning to ice."With your permission, madam," he said with extreme formality, "Dinah andI are going to retire to talk things over."
He had his way. It was obvious that he meant to have it. He motioned toDinah with an imperious gesture to precede him, and she obeyed, notdaring to glance in her mother's direction.
Mrs. Bathurst said no more. Something in Sir Eustace's bearing seemed toquell her. She watched him go with eyes that shone with a hot resentmentunder drawn brows. It took Isabel's utmost effort to charm her back to amood less hostile.
As for Dinah, she led her _fiance_ back to her father's den inconsiderable trepidation. To be compelled to resist her mother's will wasa state of affairs that filled her with foreboding.
But the moment she was alone with him she forgot all but the onetremendous fact of his presence, for with the closing of the door he hadher in his arms.
She clung to him desperately close, feeling as one struggling in deepwaters, caught in a great current that would bear her swiftly,irresistibly,--whither?
He laughed at her trembling with careless amusement. "What, still scared,my brown elf? Where is your old daring? Aren't you allowed to have anyspirit at all in this house?"
She answered him incoherently, straining to keep her face hidden out ofreach o
f his upturning hand. "No,--no, it's not that. You don'tunderstand. It's all so new--so strange. Eustace, please--please, don'tkiss me yet!"
He laughed again, but he did not press her for the moment. "Your fatherand I have had no end of a talk," he said. "Do you know what has come ofit? Would you like to know?"
"Yes," she murmured shyly.
He was caressing the soft dark ringlets that clustered about her neck.
"About getting married, little sweetheart," he said. "You want to get itover quickly and so do I. There's no reason why we shouldn't in fact. Howabout the beginning of next month? How about April?"
"Oh, Eustace!" She clung to him closer still; she had no words. But stillthat sense of being caught, of being borne against her will, possessedher, filling her with dread rather than ecstasy. Whither was she going?Ah, whither?
He went on with his easy self-assurance, speaking as if he held the wholeworld at his disposal. "We will go South for the honeymoon. I've crowdsof things to show you--Rome, Naples, Venice. After that we'll come backand go for that summer trip in the yacht I promised you."
"And Isabel too--and Scott?" asked Dinah, in muffled accents.
He laughed over her head, as at the naive prattling of a child. "What! Onour honeymoon? Oh, hardly, I think. I'll see to it that you're not bored.And look here, my elf! I won't have you shy with me any more. Is thatunderstood? I'm not an ogre."
"I think you are--rather," murmured Dinah.
He bent over her, his lips upon her neck. "You--midget! And youthink I'm going to devour you? Well, perhaps I shall some day if yougo on running away. There's a terrible threat! Now hold up your head,Daphne--Daphne--and let me have that kiss!"
She hesitated a while longer, and then feeling his patience ebbing shelifted her face impulsively to his. "You will be good to me? Promise!Promise!" she pleaded tremulously.
He was laughing still, but his eyes were aflame. "That depends," hedeclared. "I can't answer for myself when you run away. Come! When areyou going to kiss me first? Isn't it time you began?"
She slipped her arms about his neck. Her face was burning. "I will now,"she said.
Yet the moment her lips touched his, the old wild fear came upon her. Shemade a backward movement of shrinking.
He caught her to him. "Daphne!" he said, and kissed her quivering throat.
She did not resist him, but her arms fell apart, and the red blushswiftly died. When he released her, she fell back a step with eyes fastclosed, and in a moment her hands went up as though to shield face andneck from the scorching of a furnace.
He watched her, a slight frown drawing his brows. The flame stillglittered in his eyes, but his mouth was hard. "Look here, child! Don'tbe silly!" he said. "If you treat me like a monster, I shall behave likeone. I'm made that way."
His voice was curt; it held displeasure. Dinah uncovered her face andlooked at him.
"Oh, you're angry!" she said, in tragic accents.
He laughed at that. "About as angry as I could get with a piece ofthistledown. But you know, you're not very wise, my Daphne. You've got itin you to madden me, but it's a risky thing to do. Now see here! I'vebrought you something to make those moss-agate eyes of yours shine. Canyou guess what it is?"
His hand was held out to her. She laid her own within it with consciousreluctance. He drew her into the circle of his arm, pressing her to him.
She leaned her head against him with a bewildered sense of self-reproach."I'm sorry I'm silly, Eustace," she murmured "I expect I'm made that waytoo. Don't--don't take any notice!"
He touched her forehead lightly with his lips. "You'll get over it,sweetheart," he said. "It won't matter so much after we're married. I cando as I like with you then."
"Oh, I shan't like that," said Dinah quickly.
His arm pressed her closer. "Yes, you will. I'll give you no end of agood time. Now, sweetheart, give me that little hand of yours again! No,the left! There! I wonder if it's small enough. Rather a loose fit, eh?How do you like it?"
He was fitting a ring on to the third finger. Dinah looked and wasdazzled. "Oh, Eustace,--diamonds!" she said, in an awed whisper.
"The best I could find," he told her, with princely arrogance. "I huntedthrough Bond Street for it this morning. Will it do?"
"You went up on purpose? Oh, Eustace!" she laid her cheek with a winningmovement against his hand. "You are too good! You are much too good!"
He laughed carelessly. "I'm glad you're satisfied. It's a bond, remember.You must wear it always--till I give you a wedding-ring instead."
She lifted her face and looked at him with shining eyes. "I shall love towear it," she said. "But I expect I shall have to keep it for best.Mother wouldn't let me wear it always."
"Never mind what your mother says!" he returned. "It's what I say thatmatters now. We're going to have you to stay at Willowmount in a fewdays. Isabel is arranging it with your mother now."
"Your home! Oh, how lovely!" Genuine delight was in Dinah's voice. "Scottis there, isn't he?"
He frowned again. "Bother Scott! You're coming to see me--no one else."
She flushed. "Oh yes, I know. And I shall love it--I shall love it!But--do you think I shall be allowed to come?"
"You must come," he said imperiously.
But Dinah looked dubious. "I expect I shall be wanted at home now. And Idon't believe we shall get married in April either. I've been away solong."
He laughed, flicking her cheek. "Haven't I always told you that wherethere's a will there's a way? If necessary, I can run away with you."
She shook her head. "Oh no! I'd rather not. And if--if we're really goingto be married in April, I ought to stay at home to get ready."
"Nonsense!" he said carelessly. "You can do that from Willowmount. Isabelwill help you. It's less than an hour's run to town."
Dinah opened her eyes wide. "But I shan't shop in town. I shall have tomake all my things. I always do."
He laughed again easily, indulgently. "That simplifies matters. You cando that anywhere. What are you going to be married in? White cotton?"
She laughed with him. "I would love to have a real grand wedding," shesaid, "the sort of wedding Rose de Vigne will have, with bridesmaids andflowers and crowds and crowds of people. Of course I know it can't bedone." She gave a little sigh. "But I would love it. I would love it."
He was laughing still. "Why can't it be done? Who's going to prevent it?"
Dinah had become serious. "Dad hasn't money enough for one thing. Andthen there's Mother. She wouldn't do it."
"Ho! Wouldn't she? I've a notion she'd enjoy it even more than you would.If you want a smart wedding you'd better have it in town. Then the deVignes and everyone else can come."
"Oh no! I want it to be here." Dinah's eyes began to shine. "Dad knowslots of people round about--County people too. Those are the sort ofpeople I'd like to come. Even Mother might like that," she addedreflectively.
"You prefer a big splash in your own little pond to a small one in agood-sized lake, is that it?" questioned Eustace. "Well, have it your ownway, my child! But I shouldn't make many clothes if I were you. We willshop in Paris after we are married, and then you can get whatever youfancy."
Dinah's eyes fairly danced at the thought. "I shall love that. I'll tellDaddy, shall I, to keep all his money for the wedding, and then we canbuy the clothes afterwards; that is, if you can afford it," she addedquickly. "I ought not to let you really."
"You can't prevent me doing anything," he returned, his hand pressing hershoulder. "No one can."
She leaned her head momentarily against his arm. "You--you wouldn't wantto do anything that anyone didn't like," she murmured shyly.
"Shouldn't I?" he said and for a moment his mouth was grim. "I am notaccustomed to being regarded as an amiable nonentity, I assure you. It'ssettled then, is it? The first week in April? And you are to come to usfor at least a fortnight beforehand."
Dinah nodded, her head bent. "All right,--if Mother doesn't mind."
"What would happen if she did?" he asked curiously.
"It just wouldn't be done," she made answer.
"Wouldn't it? Not if you insisted?"
"I couldn't insist," she said, her voice very low.
"Why couldn't you? I should have thought you had a will of your own.Don't you ever assert yourself?"
"Against her? No, never!" Dinah gave a little shudder. "Don't let's talkof it!" she said. "Isn't it time to go back? I believe I ought to beclearing away."
He detained her for a moment. "You're not going to work like a niggerwhen you are married to me," he said.
She smiled up at him, a merry, dimpling smile. "Oh no, I shall just enjoymyself then--like Rose de Vigne. I shall be much too grand to work.There! I really must go back. Thank you again ever so much--ever somuch--for the lovely ring. I hope you'll never find out how unworthy I amof it."
She drew his head down with quivering courage and bestowed a butterflykiss upon his cheek. And then in a second she was gone from his hold,gone like a woodland elf with a tinkle of laughter and the skipping offairy feet.
Sir Eustace followed her flight with his eyes only, but in those eyes wasthe leaping fire of a passion that burned around her in an ever-narrowingcircle. She knew that it was there, but she would not look back to seeit. For deep in her heart she feared that flame as she feared nothingelse on earth.
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