CHAPTER ELEVEN
_In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; whichshows how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lendsan ear to the advantages of wealth._
The Christmas fire was not cold upon the hearth of the Little RedChimney before Miss Bentley was whisked away to other scenes, into anatmosphere so different that of necessity things took on another aspect.
Mrs. Gerrard Pennington found intense satisfaction in her niece's socialsuccess. Given every advantage, she pointed out, one could never tellhow a girl would take, and Dick had brought up his daughter in such anodd way. Yet in spite of everything, even this awkward arrangement ofliving in two places, Margaret Elizabeth was popular beyond her fondesthopes.
There were not wanting those who remarked that it would be a marvel ifshe were not spoiled. Probably they were right, and Margaret Elizabeth,at the flood tide of her social career, courted, feted, the kingdoms ofthis world at her feet, was in danger.
"And who sent this?" Mrs. Pennington demanded.
It was Christmas Day, and "this" was an Indian basket of holly andmistletoe, conspicuous, among many costly floral offerings, by itssimplicity. The card which accompanied it read, "To her Ladyship, fromthe Candy Man," but this Mrs. Pennington had not seen.
"Oh," answered her niece, "I don't know how to tell you who he is. He isa stranger here--a Mr. Reynolds. I met him at Mr. Knight's, where youremember I went to get some material for my paper for the Tuesday Club."
This was all true, and, unaccompanied by a heightened colour, mighthave allayed her aunt's lurking suspicions, born of that unexplainedinterview in the park with some one who was not Augustus.
Only once had Mrs. Pennington referred to this, asking half jokingly ifMargaret Elizabeth had ever discovered the identity of that person;putting a somewhat disdainful emphasis upon "person."
"Never," Margaret Elizabeth could at that time assure her, and sheadded, "I do not expect to, and certainly do not wish to."
Mrs. Pennington, however, had her intuitions in regard to this unknownindividual. She anticipated his reappearance, and, like a wise general,in time of peace prepared for war. Keeping her vague fears to herself,she increased her vigilance.
Annoyed because of that uncalled-for blush, far away from the Little RedChimney, with fairy-tales forgot, Margaret Elizabeth repeated her aunt'squestion. After all, who was Mr. Reynolds? That which had so latelyseemed an adventure compounded of kindliness and fun, she now beheldonly as an awkward situation. She began to feel that she had oversteppedthe bounds in asking him to the Christmas tree; and the red stocking!What nonsense! Why should she have felt concerned over his loneliness?Were there not many lonely people in the world? Might he not infer fromit all a rather excessive interest in him and his affairs? Her interviewwith Tim at the hospital, for instance, though it had come about by thepurest chance, looked on the surface as if she had been bent uponinvestigating him.
The Candy Man's offering, which she at first found so happilysignificant and appropriate, now began to seem almost a piece ofpresumption. It lay ignored if not forgotten, till its brown andwithered contents were tossed into the fire by one of the maids. DidMiss Bentley wish her to save the basket?
No, Miss Bentley cared nothing for it. Or, wait--she liked sweet grass,and on second thought she would keep it.
Never had the holiday season been so gay. There was not time for aminute's connected thought. Margaret Elizabeth honestly tried to keepher promise to stop and reflect for at least ten minutes a day, buteither she went to sleep, or fell into a waking dream that bore smallrelation to the sober realities upon which she was supposed to dwell.
There were guests at Pennington Park for the holidays--English friendsof her uncle and aunt, persons of a broader culture than MargaretElizabeth had ever before encountered. They afforded her an objectlesson of the best that accrues from wealth and tradition, and is onlyto be attained by means of them. Within herself she was aware of anaptitude of her own for these things.
But half divining her niece's mood, Mrs. Gerrard Pennington skilfullyand subtly fostered it, and Augustus McAllister, with unexpected tact,followed her lead.
Augustus was genuinely in love, and it brought out the best that wasin him. For the first time in his life something resembling humilitymanifested itself, a humility which sat gracefully upon the possessorof variously estimated millions. It seemed to say: "Here is one who,although not brilliant, may be led into any desirable path." And withhis other substantial attractions he combined his full share of goodlooks.
To be unresponsive was not in Miss Bentley's make-up, and the attentionsof Augustus assumed in these days a delicate and pleasing character.What girl could be indifferent to the prestige born of the generallyaccepted opinion that the position of mistress of the Towers was hersfor the word?
In truth, all this homage--and Augustus was far from being alone init--was to Margaret Elizabeth an exciting game, that need not be takentoo seriously. It was only when she thought of the Candy Man that shebecame serious and annoyed. How impossible, in the atmosphere ofPennington Park, appeared any explanation or justification of so absurda position as his!
COUSIN AUGUSTUS]
When, after a morning recital by the Musical Club, Miss Bentley was seenwalking down the avenue with Augustus McAllister, society seized upon itas confirming an interesting rumour. It was absurd, of course. MargaretElizabeth did it quite innocently. She really felt the need of exercisein the open air, and could not very easily dismiss Mr. McAllister, whohad accompanied her aunt and herself to the concert, and who also feltthe need of air.
Did she think of the Candy Man when they passed the Y.M.C.A. corner?Yes, she did. Though she gave not so much as half a glance in thedirection of the Candy Wagon, she hoped he was not too busy to observe.It might counteract possible false impressions in the past.
A few days later there appeared in a column of the _Evening Record_,given up to such matters, an item regarding the soon-to-be-announcedengagement of a certain charming and beautiful girl, only recently aresident of the city, and a young man of wealth and social position.
It brought Miss Bentley up short. She disliked newspaper gossipextremely, and an allusion so faintly veiled that everyone mustunderstand, was under the circumstances most embarrassing, for the truthwas she had not been asked. Her cheeks burned. Yet it was thanks only tosome clever fencing on her part, and perhaps some words of caution toAugustus from his mentor, that she had not been, and she knew in herheart it must come soon.
Just when you were having a good time and did not wish to be bothered,it was tiresome to have to decide momentous questions, she told herselfalmost fretfully, as she was borne swiftly and smoothly downtown oneafternoon. There was the usual detention at the Y.M.C.A. corner, andMargaret Elizabeth looked out and almost into the Candy Wagon before sheknew it. But there was no cause for alarm. Beneath the white cap of theCandy Man shone the round Irish countenance of Tim Malone.
Was it Tim after all who had viewed her triumphal walk down the avenue?The question brought not a hint of a smile to Miss Bentley's lips; andthis was a very grave symptom.
If Uncle Bob had been within reach! But he wasn't. He had run down toFlorida to look after his orange grove, and Dr. Prue was up to her eyesin grip cases. There was every reason why Margaret Elizabeth should stayon at Pennington Park.
So the Little Red Chimney had no chance to get in its work. In vainVirginia looked from the dining-room window for its curling smoke. Invain did the invalid sister of Miss Kitty, the dressmaker, dream of thebeautiful young lady who brought her roses. In vain did the postman andthe market-man inquire of Nancy when Miss Bentley was coming back. Tothe Miser alone, who from his study window had also noted the deadnessof the Little Red Chimney, was the privilege of a word with theenchantress accorded. It came about through Mrs. Gerrard Pennington'sinterest in the furnishing of the new quarters of the Colonial Dames.
Hearing of a desirable print owned by Mr. Knight, which it
wasunderstood he might be induced to part with, she drove thither tocanvass the matter, accompanied by her niece. On the way they pickedup Augustus, who knew nothing of prints, but was pleased to join theexpedition.
The Miser, beneath his grave courtesy, seemed taken aback by thisinvasion of his solitude. Mrs. Pennington's conventional suavity plainlyembarrassed him. He smiled indeed at Margaret Elizabeth, remarking as hespread out his engravings that it had been long since he last saw her.
The impulse was strong upon her to follow him to his desk and ask if hehad any news of the Candy Man. There were moments when she thought itstrange she had had no word. These were but fleeting moments, however;for the most part she succeeded, or thought she succeeded, in dismissinghim to the limbo of the past. So now she resisted the impulse to asknews of him.
When it came to negotiations Margaret Elizabeth and Augustus, leavingMrs. Pennington to conduct them, moved about the room, viewing theMiser's curios.
"Do you care for mezzotints?" she asked him.
"I don't know the first thing about them," Augustus owned. "In factnever saw one."
She laughed. "Oh, yes, you have. Ever so many of the Reynolds and Romneyportraits were reproduced in mezzotint. If I am not mistaken there isone hanging in your own hall."
Augustus gazed at her in undisguised admiration. "I don't see how youlearn so much, Miss Bentley. I have no doubt I have a lot of things youcould help me to appreciate."
From this dangerous ground she moved hastily, calling attention to theportrait above the mantel. Mr. McAllister was more at home here.
"A rattling good picture. General Waite, by the way," he informed her,"was own cousin to my grandmother on my mother's side. My greatgrandfather and his father were brothers, don't you know."
"Indeed!" said Margaret Elizabeth, politely. The relationship didnot interest her, but she wondered, in annoyance, why the cousin ofAugustus, on his mother's side, should look down on her with the eyes ofthe Candy Man. Stern eyes they were, with a sparkle of humour behind thesternness.
On the way home Mrs. Pennington was stirred to reminiscence. "One ofthe first parties I ever attended was in that old house," she said."It must have been thirty-five years ago. I was a very young girl--barelyseventeen. General Waite was a most courtly man, and his wife was quitefamous for her beauty. It was there I met Mr. Pennington. He and thegeneral's nephew, Robert Waite, were great friends. They went to collegetogether. He disappeared strangely. I remember Gerrard was dread fullyupset about it at the time. It was just before our marriage."
To all this Margaret Elizabeth only half listened. The eyes of thegeneral lingered reproachfully with her, and perhaps were at the bottomof that policy of postponement with which Augustus was met when theinevitable moment came.
Just a little time was all she asked. Mr. McAllister was talking of atrip to Panama; let him go, and on his return he should have his answer.
Miss Bentley was very sweet as she spoke thus; eminently worth waitingfor. So Augustus went to Panama, and she was left to argue matters withherself.
During the process she grew pale. Mixed up with her arguments was thatfoolish idea that she ought to have heard something from the Candy Man.Had he seen that item in the _Evening Record_?
Mrs. Pennington noticed the pallor, but treated it lightly. MargaretElizabeth was tired out, but now Lent was here she would rest. She wasworn to death herself, but she would recuperate, and surely her niece,who was years younger, could do the same. She failed to take intoconsideration the complications lacking in her own case. In fact, havingbrought matters to the present status, Mrs. Pennington allowed herselfto relax.
Mr. Gerrard Pennington looked at Margaret Elizabeth from beneath hisbushy brows. Confound them, what were they doing to her? She had a wayof joining him in the library, and sitting with a book in her lap, whichshe seldom read.
One day, laying down his paper, and after a cautious glance over hisshoulder, he remarked: "Did it ever occur to you, Margaret Elizabeth,that you don't have to marry anybody?"
She stared at him with surprised eyes, in which a smile slowly dawned."Why, Uncle Gerry, what do you mean? Of course I don't have to."
"There is a great deal in suggestion," continued Mr. Pennington. "Keeptelling people a certain thing, confront them with it on all occasions,and they will be influenced in spite of themselves; and it has occurredto me----"
"Yes?" said Margaret Elizabeth.
"Well, that it applies in your case." Mr. Pennington cleared his throat."A certain person whom we know has behaved very well of late; betterthan I thought was in him, but--unless you are pretty sure you can'tlive without him--Now this is rank treason on my part, but don't be toosoft-hearted, Margaret Elizabeth."
Mr. Pennington returned to his stock-market reports, and silencereigned, but presently two hands rested on his shoulders, and a velvetcheek touched his for a moment. "Thank you, Uncle Gerry," said MargaretElizabeth.
The Little Red Chimney: Being the Love Story of a Candy Man Page 12
