by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER II.--ARRIVAL OF EVELYN.
Audrey met her governess at the lodge gates, and the two plunged down aside-path, and were soon making for the wonderful moors about a mileaway from Wynford Castle.
"What are you thinking about, Audrey?" said Miss Sinclair.
"Do you happen to know," said Audrey, "any people in the village orneighborhood of the name of Leeson?"
"No, dear, certainly not. I do not think any people of the name livehere. Why do you ask?"
"For such a funny reason!" replied Audrey. "I met a girl who had come bymistake through the shrubberies. She was on her way to the Castle to geta good meal. She told me her name was Sylvia Leeson. She was pretty inan _outre_ sort of style; she was also very free. She had the cheek tocompare herself with me, and said that as my name was Audrey and hersSylvia we ought to be two of Shakespeare's heroines. There was somethinguncommon about her. Not that I liked her--very far from that. But Iwonder who she is."
"I don't know," said Miss Sinclair. "I certainly have not the least ideathat there is any one of that name living in our neighborhood, but onecan never tell."
"Oh, but you know everybody round here," said Audrey. "Perhaps she is astranger. I think on the whole I am glad."
"I heard a week ago that some people had taken The Priory," said MissSinclair.
"The Priory!" cried Audrey. "It has been uninhabited ever since I canremember."
"I heard the rumor," continued Miss Sinclair, "but I know noparticulars, and it may not be true. It is just possible that this girlbelongs to them."
"I should like to find out," replied Audrey. "She certainly interestedme although----Oh, well, don't let us talk of her any more. Jennydear"--Audrey in affectionate moments called her governess by herChristian name--"are you not anxious to know what Evelyn is like?"
"I suppose I am," replied Miss Sinclair.
"I think of her so much!" continued Audrey. "It seems so odd that she, astranger, should be the heiress, and I, who have lived here all my days,should inherit nothing. Oh, of course, I shall have plenty of money, formother had such a lot; but it does seem so unaccountable that allfather's property should go to Evelyn. And now she is to live here, andof course take the precedence of me, I do not know that I quite like it.Sometimes I feel that she will rub me the wrong way; if she is verymasterful, for instance. She can be--can't she, Jenny?"
"But why should we suppose that she will be?" replied Miss Sinclair."There is no good in getting prejudiced beforehand."
"I cannot help thinking about it," said Audrey. "You know I have neverhad any close companions before, and although you make up for everybodyelse, and I love you with all my heart and soul, yet it is somewhatexciting to think of a girl just my own age coming to live with me."
"Of course, dear; and I am so glad for your sake!"
"But then," continued Audrey, "she does not come quite as an ordinaryguest; she comes to the home which is to be hers hereafter. I wonderwhat her ideas are, and what she will feel about things. It is verymysterious. I am excited; I own it. You may be quite sure, though, thatI shall not show any of my excitement when Evelyn does come. Jenny, haveyou pictured her yet to yourself? Do you think she is tall or short, orpretty or ugly, or what?"
"I have thought of her, of course," replied Miss Sinclair; "but I havenot formed the least idea. You will soon know, Audrey; she is to arrivein time for dinner."
"Yes," said Audrey; "mother is going in the carriage to meet her, andthe train is due at six-thirty. She will arrive at the Castle a littlebefore seven. Mother says she will probably bring a maid, and perhaps aFrench governess. Mother does not know herself what sort she is. It isodd her having lived away from England all this time."
Audrey chatted on with her governess a little longer, and presently theyturned and went back to the house. The sun had already set, and the bigfront-door was shut; the family never used it except on this special dayor when a wedding or a funeral left Wynford Castle. The prettyside-door, with its sheltered porch, was the mode of exit and ingressfor the inhabitants of Wynford Castle. Audrey and her governess nowentered, and Audrey stood for a few moments to warm her hands by thehuge log fire on the hearth. Miss Sinclair went slowly up-stairs to herroom; and Audrey, finding herself alone, gave a quick sigh.
"I wonder--I do wonder," she said half-aloud.
Her words were evidently heard, for some one stirred, and presently atall man with a slight stoop came forward and stood where the light ofthe big fire fell all over him.
"Why, dad!" cried Audrey as she put her hand inside her father's arm."Were you asleep?" she asked. "How was it that Miss Sinclair and I didnot see you when we came in?"
"I was sound asleep in that big chair. I was somewhat tired. I hadreceived three hundred guests; don't forget that," replied SquireWynford.
"And they have gone. What a comfort!" said Audrey.
"My dear little Audrey, I have fed them and warmed them and sent them ontheir way rejoicing, and I am a more popular Squire Wynford of CastleWynford than ever. Why should you grumble because your neighbors, everymother's son of them, had as much to eat and drink as they could desireon New Year's Day?"
"I hate the custom," said Audrey. "It belongs to the Middle Ages; itought to be exploded."
"What! and allow the people to go hungry?"
"Those who are likely to go hungry," continued Audrey, "might have moneygiven to them. We do not want all the small squires everywhere round tocome and feed at the Castle."
"But the small squires like it, and so do the poor people, and so do I,"said Squire Wynford; and now he frowned very slightly, and Audrey gaveanother sigh.
"We must agree to differ, dad," she said.
"I am afraid so, my dear. Well, and how are you, my pet? I have not seenyou until now. Very happy at the thought of your cousin's arrival?"
"No, dad, scarcely happy, but excited all the same. Are not you alittle, wee bit excited too, father? It seems so strange her coming allthe way from Tasmania to take possession of her estates. I wonder--I dowonder--what she will be like."
"She takes possession of no estates while I live," said the Squire, "butshe is the next heiress."
"And you are sorry it is not I; are you not, father?"
"I don't think of it," said the Squire. "No," he added thoughtfully amoment later, "that is not the case. I do think of it. You are betteroff without the responsibility; you would never be suited to a greatestate of this sort. Evelyn may be different. Anyhow, when the timecomes it is her appointed work. Now, my dear"--he took out hiswatch--"your cousin will arrive in a moment. Your mother has gone to meether. Do you intend to welcome her here or in one of the sitting-rooms?"
"I will stay in the hall, of course," said Audrey a little fretfully.
"I will leave you, then, my love. I have neglected a sheaf ofcorrespondence, and would like to look through my letters beforedinner."
The Squire moved away, walking slowly. He pushed aside some heavycurtains and vanished. Audrey still stood by the fire. Presently arestless fit seized her, and she too flitted up the winding white marblestairs and disappeared down a long corridor. She entered a pretty roomdaintily furnished in blue and silver. A large log fire burned in thegrate; electric light shed its soft gleams over the furniture; there wasa bouquet of flowers and a little pot of ivy on a small table, also abookcase full of gaily-bound story-books. Nothing had been neglected,even to the big old Bible and the old-fashioned prayer-book.
"I wonder how she will like it," thought Audrey. "This is one of theprettiest rooms in the house. Mother said she must have it. I wonder ifshe will like it, and if I shall like her. Oh, and here is herdressing-room, and here is a little boudoir where she may sit and amuseherself and shut us out if she chooses. Lucky Evelyn! How strange it allseems! For the first time I begin to appreciate my darling, belovedhome. Why should it pass away from me to her? Oh, of course I am notjealous; I would not be mean enough to entertain feelings of that sort,and---- I hear the sound of wheels. She is coming; in a
moment I shall seeher. Oh, I do wonder--I do wonder! I wish Jenny were with me; I feelquite nervous."
Audrey dashed out of the room, rushed down the winding stairs, and hadjust entered the hall when a footman pushed aside the heavy curtains,and Lady Frances Wynford, a handsome, stately-looking woman, entered,accompanied by a small girl.
The girl was dragging in a great pile of rugs and wraps. Her hat wasaskew on her head, her jacket untidy. She flung the rugs down in thecenter of a rich Turkey carpet; said, "There, that is a relief;" andthen looked full at Audrey.
Audrey was a head and shoulders taller than the heiress, who had thinand somewhat wispy flaxen hair, and a white face with insignificantfeatures. Her eyes, however, were steady, brown, large, and intelligent.She came up to Audrey at once.
"Don't introduce me, please, Aunt Frances," she said. "I know this isAudrey.--I am Evelyn. You hate me, don't you?"
"No, I am sure I do not," said Audrey.
"Well, I should if I were you. It would be much more interesting to behated. So this is the place. It looks jolly, does it not? Aunt Frances,do you know where my maid is? I must have her--I must have her at once.Please tell Jasper to come here," continued the girl, turning to aman-servant who lingered in the background.
"Desire Miss Wynford's maid to come into the hall," said Lady Frances inan imperious tone; "and bring tea, Davis. Be quick."
The man withdrew, and Evelyn, lifting her hand, took off her ugly felthat and flung it on the pile of rugs and cushions.
"Don't touch them, please," she said as Audrey advanced. "That isJasper's work.--By the way, Aunt Frances, may Jasper sleep in my room? Ihave never slept alone, not since I was born, and I could not surviveit. I want a little bed just the ditto of my own for Jasper. I cannotlive without Jasper. May she sleep close to me, please, Aunt Frances?And, oh! I do hope and trust this house is not haunted. It does lookeerie. I am terrified at the thought of ghosts. I know I shall not be avery pleasant inmate, and I am sorry for you all--and for you in special,Audrey. What a grand, keep-your-distance sort of air you have! But I amnot going to be afraid of you. I do not forget that the place willbelong to me some day. Hullo, Jasper!"
Evelyn flitted in a curious, elf-like way across the hall, and went upto a dark woman who stood just by the velvet curtain.
"Don't be shy, Jasper," she said. "You have nothing to be afraid ofhere. It is all very grand, I know; but then it is to be mine some day,and you are never to leave me--never. I was speaking to my aunt, LadyFrances, and you are to have your little bed near mine. See that it isarranged for to-night. And now, please, pick up these rugs and cushionsand my old hat, and take them to my room. Don't stare so, Jasper; dowhat I tell you."
Jasper somewhat sullenly obeyed. She was as graceful and deft in all heractions as Evelyn was the reverse. Evelyn stood and watched her. Whenshe went slowly up the marble stairs, the heiress turned with a laugh toher two companions.
"How you stare!" she said; and she looked full at Audrey. "Do you regardme as barbarian, or a wild beast, or what?"
"I am interested in you," said Audrey in her low voice. "You aredecidedly out of the common."
"Come," said Lady Frances, "we have no time for analyzing character justnow. Audrey, take your cousin to her room, and then go yourself and getdressed for dinner."
"Will you come, Evelyn?" said Audrey.
She crossed the hall, Evelyn following her slowly. Once or twice theheiress stopped to examine a mailed figure in armor, or an old pictureon which the firelight cast a fitful gleam. She said, "How ugly! A queerold thing, that!" to the figure in armor, and she scowled up at thepicture.
"You are not going to frighten me, you old scarecrow," she said; andthen she ran up-stairs by Audrey's side.
"So this is what they call English grandeur!" she remarked. "Is not thishouse centuries old?"
"Parts of the house are," answered Audrey.
"Is this part?"
"No; the hall and staircase were added about seventy years ago."
"Is my room in the old part or the new part?"
"Your room is in what is called the medium part. It is a lovely room;you will be charmed with it."
"I by no means know that I shall. But show it to me."
Audrey walked a little quicker. She began to feel a curious sense ofirritation, and knew that there was something about Evelyn which mightunder certain conditions try her temper very much. They reached thelovely blue-and-silver room, and Audrey flung open the door, expecting acry of delight from Evelyn. But the heiress was not one to give herselfaway; she cast cool and critical eyes round the chamber.
"Dear, dear!" she said--"dear, dear! So this is your idea of an Englishbedroom!"
"It is an English bedroom; there is no idea about it," said Audrey.
"You are cross, are you not, Audrey?" was Evelyn's remark. "It is verytrying for you my coming here. I know that, of course; Jasper has toldme. I should be ignorant and quite lost were it not for Jasper, butJasper puts me up to things. I do not think I could live without her.She has often described you--often and often. It would make you scream tolisten to her. She has taken you off splendidly. Really, all thingsconsidered, you are very like what she has pictured you. I say, Audrey,would you like to come up here after your next meal, whatever you callit, and watch Jasper as she takes you off? She is the most splendidmimic in all the world. In a day or two she will be able to imitate AuntFrances and every one in the house. Oh, it is killing to watch her andto listen to her! You would like to see yourself through Jasper's eyes,would you not, Audrey?"
"No, thank you," replied Audrey.
"How you kill me with that 'No, thank you,' of yours! Why, they are thevery words Jasper said you would be certain to say. Oh dear! this isquite amusing." Evelyn laughed long and loud, wiping her eyes with herhandkerchief as she did so. "Oh dear! oh dear!" she said. "Don't lookany crosser, Audrey, or I shall die with laughing! Why, you will make mescream."
"That would be bad for you after your journey," said Audrey. "I see youhave hot water, and your maid is in the dressing-room. I will leave younow. That is the dressing-bell; the bell for dinner will ring in half anhour. I must go and dress."
Audrey rushed out of the room, very nearly, but not quite, banging thedoor after her.
"If I stayed another moment I should lose my temper. I should saysomething terrible," thought the girl. Her heart was beating fast; shepressed her hand to her side. "If it were not for Jenny I do not believeI could endure the house with that girl," was her next ejaculation. "Tothink that she is a Wynford, and that the Castle--the lovely, beautifulCastle--is to belong to her some day. Oh, it is maddening! Our darlingknight in armor--Sir Galahad I have always called him--and our Rembrandt:one is a scarecrow, and the other a queer old thing. Oh Evelyn, you arealmost past bearing!"
Audrey ran away to her room, where her maid, Eleanor, was waiting toattend on her. Audrey was never in the habit of confiding in her maid;and the girl, who was brimful of importance, curiosity, and news, didnot dare to express any of her feelings to Miss Audrey in her presentmood.
"Put on my very prettiest frock to-night, please, Eleanor," said theyoung lady. "Dress my hair to the best advantage. My white dress, didyou say? No, not white, but that pale, very pale, rose-colored silk withall the little trimmings and flounces."
"But that is one of your gayest dresses, Miss Audrey."
"Never mind; I choose to look gay and well dressed."
The girl proceeded with her young mistress's toilet, and a minute or twobefore the second bell rang Audrey was ready. She made a lovely andgraceful picture as she looked at herself for a moment in the longmirror. Her figure was already beautifully formed; she was tall,graceful, dignified. The set of her young head on her stately neck wassuperb. Her white shoulders gleamed under the transparent folds of herlovely frock. Her rounded arms were white as alabaster. She slipped asmall diamond ring on one of her fingers, looked for a moment longinglyat a pearl necklace, but finally decided not to wear any more adornment
,and ran lightly down-stairs.
The big drawing-room was lit with the softest light. The Squire stood bythe hearth, on which a huge log blazed. Lady Frances, in fullevening-dress, was carelessly turning the leaves of a novel.
"What a quiet evening we are likely to have!" she said, looking up atthe Squire as she spoke. "To-morrow there are numbers of guests coming;we shall be a big party, and Audrey and Evelyn will, I trust, have apleasant time.--My dear Audrey, why that dress this evening?"
"I took a fancy to wear it, mother," said Audrey in a light tone.
There was more color than usual in her cheeks, and her eyes werebrighter than her mother had ever seen them. Lady Frances was not awoman of any special discernment. She was an excellent mother and asplendid hostess. She was good to look at, and was just the sort of_grande dame_ to keep up all the dignity of Wynford Castle, but shenever even pretended to understand her only child. The Squire, asensitive man in many ways, was also more or less a stranger to Audrey'sreal character. He looked at her, it is true, a little anxiously now,and a slight curiosity stirred his breast as to the possible effectEvelyn's presence in the house might have on his beautiful youngdaughter. As to Evelyn herself, he had not seen her, and did not evencare to inquire of his wife what sort of girl she was. He was deeplyabsorbed over the silver currency question, and was writing anexhaustive paper on it for the _Nineteenth Century_; he had not time,therefore, to worry about domestic matters. Just then the drawing-roomdoor was flung open, and the footman announced, as though she were astranger:
"Miss Evelyn Wynford."
If Audrey was, according to Lady Frances's ideas, slightly overdressedfor so small a party, she was quite outshone by Evelyn, whose dress wasaltogether unsuitable for her age. She wore a very thick silk, brightblue in color, with a quantity of colored embroidery thrown over it. Herlittle fat neck was bare, and her sleeves were short. Her scanty fairhair was arranged on the top of her head, two diamond pins supporting itin position; a diamond necklace was clasped round her neck, and she hadbracelets on her arms. She was evidently intensely pleased with herself,and looked with the utmost confidence from Lady Frances to her uncle.With a couple of long strides the Squire advanced to meet her. He lookedinto her queer little face and all his indifference vanished. She washis only brother's only child. He had loved his brother better than anyone on earth, and, come what might, he would give that brother's child awelcome. So he took both of Evelyn's tiny hands, and suddenly stooping,he lifted her an inch or so from the ground and kissed her twice.Something in his manner made the little girl give a sort of gasp.
"Why, it is just as if you were father come to life," she said. "I amglad to see you, Uncle Ned."
Still holding her hand, the Squire walked up to the hearth and stoodthere facing Audrey and his wife.
"You have been introduced to Audrey, have you not, Evelyn?" he said.
"I did not need to be introduced. I saw a girl in the hall, and Iguessed it must be Audrey. 'Cute of me, was it not? Do you know, UncleNed, I don't much like this place, but I like you. Yes, I am right-downsmitten with you, but I don't think I like anything else. You don't mindif I am frank, Uncle Ned; it always was my way. We are brought up likethat in Tasmania--Audrey, don't frown at me; you don't look pretty whenyou frown. But, oh! I say, the bell has gone, has it not?"
"Yes, my dear," said Lady Frances.
"And it means dinner, does it not?"
"Certainly, Evelyn," said her uncle, bending towards her with the mostpolished and stately grace. "Allow me, my niece, to conduct you to thedining-room."
"How droll you are, uncle!" said Evelyn. "But I like you all the same.You are a right-down good old sort. I am awfully peckish; I shall beglad of a round meal."
