CHAPTER FIVE.
A SURPRISE VISIT.
Clytie opened the gate with the little half-startled look ofastonishment in her face which she had so quickly yet carefully planned.The countenance of the visitor, on the other hand, was not free from areciprocating surprise. He had not bargained on this admission at thehands of one of the daughters of the house--and an uncommonly attractivelooking one at that.
"Er--my name is Wagram," he began, raising his hat. "One of yoursisters met with something of an accident on our place a few days back,and I thought it would be a satisfaction to know she was none the worsefor it. Is Major Calmour at home?"
The semi-puzzled look which had rested on Clytie's face during thisspeech gave way to a carefully planned light up at its conclusion.
"Oh, yes, of course. We heard about that, and your part in it, MrWagram. But won't you come in? My father is somewhere at the back, andwill be delighted to thank you in person." And having uttered thisshocking tarradiddle, she ushered him into the drawing-room.
Delia rose as he entered, having spent the intervening period in makingsuperhuman efforts to recover her wonted composure. A volume ofeffusive thanks on the subject of the bicycle aided her efforts stillfurther.
"Oh, Mr Wagram, what a lovely machine it is!" she began. "Why, it'ssimply perfection. A free wheel, too. I've always longed for a freewheel. No, it's too lovely. When we unpacked it just now, why, Ithought I must be dreaming."
"Just now," she had said. Wagram looked up astonished, and feelingsomewhat uncomfortable, fearing lest his arrival at that inopportunemoment should wear an appearance as though he had come to be thanked.
"Has it only just come?" he said. "Why, it ought to have been deliverednearly a week ago. Gee and Vincent are not usually such dilatorypeople. I must row them up over it."
"Oh, please don't," said Delia. "Why should you take any furthertrouble about it? You have been too kind already."
"No, no," he laughed. "By the way, it was just as Perrin said. The gnumust have jumped the palings of the west park. There was no gap orbreakdown anywhere."
"Really? But--tell me. Was the Squire very angry?"
"Not he. He was relieved to hear you had escaped uninjured. You arenone the worse, are you? It was to ascertain that that I took theliberty of calling."
"How kind of you again," she answered, with a lustrous softness in hereyes that was not studied, and wonderfully attractive. "No; I am notone atom the worse."
"Another thing has been on my conscience ever since, Miss Calmour; andthat is, that I should have allowed you to walk all that way home. Iought to have insisted upon your coming on to the Court with me anddriving back."
"Oh, but you did try and persuade me, remember; it wasn't your fault atall. Shall I tell you something, Mr Wagram? I believe the secret of myholding out was that I was more than a little afraid to face the Squireafter what had happened."
As a matter of fact, Delia had repented her refusal ever since. Such anopportunity might never recur; and, apart from that, it would have beenso much more time to look back to and dwell upon.
"You needn't have been. It was a pity," he answered.
"Yes. And I hear you have some beautiful things at the Court, MrWagram--pictures and old relics and all that," she added half shyly, asthe consciousness flashed in upon her that he would take her remark as adirect "fishing" for an invite to come and see them--a misgiving whichwould not have afflicted her in the slightest degree had he been anybodyelse in the world. But at that moment the door opened, admittingClytie, who had returned from a fictitious search for her parent,combined with a renewed command to the retired Bob on no account to showhimself, on pain of such disabilities as it was within her power toplace him under.
"I can't find father anywhere," she said. "He must have gone outwithout telling us. But he may be back any moment now. Oh, that's mytyping work, Mr Wagram," following his glance. "I'm afraid you'll thinkus very untidy. It really has no business littering about in here, butI brought it in because the light is better."
As a matter of fact, she had hurriedly brought it in before going toanswer his ring--and that with a purpose.
"Ah yes. Ladies have taken to that sort of thing a good deal, I'm told.Do you do much of it?"
"Not so much as I should like; only as much as I can get," laughedClytie. "We have to do these things--and it all helps."
"And very right and plucky it is of you to do it," he answered.
"That sounds nice. Oh, and, Mr Wagram, if you should know of anybodywho wants anything done in that line you might mention me. There are somany people in these days who write, or try to. And, as I said before,it all helps."
Wagram, of course, promised accordingly, at the same time thinking itwould be hard if he could not put something in her way. He had knownstraitened circumstances himself, and the fact of this girl turning herhand to a means of adding to a small income sent her up in his opinion,as she had guessed it would. But Clytie was honestly scheming for Deliathis time, and for her she judged it the moment to put in a word.
"But Delia is the one who works the hardest," she said. "My typing ismere child's play compared with all she does. She has been away acouple of years, and had to come home for a rest."
"Really?" he answered, turning to Delia. "Well, that is plucky of you,Miss Calmour." And both thought to read in the high approval expressedin his look and tone a shade of regret that she should be exposed to thenecessity of being overworked at all.
They talked on, and soon their visitor became acquainted with all thefamily doings--of the third sister, who was away also working; of Boband another brother in Canada, and three more at school; then of otherthings, and Wagram was surprised to note how well they talked. He hadmade up his mind to pay this call from a sense of duty, and hadapproached it with considerable misgiving. One girl he had alreadyseen, and she had impressed him favourably, yet how would she show upunder the circumstances of a surprise visit? For the others he hadexpected to find very second-rate types, possibly overdressed, certainlyunderbred; forward and gushing or awkwardly shy. But in these two, eachmore than ordinarily attractive after her different type, he had foundnothing of the kind. There was an ease of manner and entire freedomfrom affectation about them that fairly astonished him, remembering therepute in which the family was apparently held; and, realising it, theywent up in his estimation accordingly. Both were at their best, andknew it.
But through it all came the recollection of that action for breach ofpromise. Which of them was concerned in it, he wondered; or was it theabsent one? Well, there was no finding out now. Yet somehow, he didnot think it could be Delia. If it were either of these two he wouldrather think it was Clytie; and then, suddenly, it occurred to him towonder why on earth he was troubling his head about it at all. He hadpaid his duty call, and there was an end of the whole matter. But--wasthere?
"_So_ sorry father was out, Mr Wagram," said Clytie as he rose to takehis leave, "and so will he be. But, perhaps, if you are in Bassinghamagain and are inclined to drop in for a cup of tea, I know he'll bedelighted."
Wagram, as in duty bound, declared that the pleasure would be mutual.It was strange, he said, that he did not even know Major Calmour bysight; but he was so seldom in Bassingham, and had not been very long atthe Court, for the matter of that.
"We pulled that off well, Delia," said Clytie as they returned fromseeing their visitor to the gate. "He's gone away thinking no smallbeer of us. He had heard all sorts of beastly things said about us, andcame to see if they were true, and has come to the conclusion they arenot."
"Why do you think that?"
Clytie smiled pityingly.
"My dear child, I never saw the man yet I couldn't read like a book,even in matters far more complicated than that, and not often a woman.Never mind. I'll back you up all I know how if you'll go on playing upto me as you did just now. Oh, good Lord! there's the old man, and--he's `fresh.'"
&
nbsp; For a volley of raucous profanity had swamped her last words, and overthe top of the front gate a face was visible--a very red face indeed,surmounted by a hat awry. The profanity was evoked by its utterer'snatural inability to open a locked gate by the simple process of pushingand battering against the same. Delia looked troubled.
"Do you think _he_ saw him?" she said. "He's only just this second goneout."
"Depends which way the old man came. But `he', if you remember, saidhe'd never set eyes on him."
"Yes; but that's not to say he never will. And then, on top of thatrecognition, he'll be in no lively hurry to wend our way again."
"Leave all that to the future, and chance," returned Clytie. "Oh,bother! The old man's blaring away like a calf that has lost its cow.We'd better let him in sharp or he'll draw a crowd."
The two walked leisurely back to the gate, against which their parentwas raining kicks--and curses.
"Go easy, dad," said Clytie. "How the deuce can a fellow open the gatefrom this side what time you're banging it in from that? There! Now,come along."
"How the deuce? Look here, you minx, that's nice sort of femininelanguage to use to your father, isn't it? Or to anyone," he repeated ashe walked stiffly and with an ominous swaying gait up the garden path.
"And that's nice sort of masculine language to use to your daughters--and the gate, and things in general, as you were doing just now, isn'tit?" laughed Clytie serenely. "Unless you can plead, with theproverbial Scotchman, that you were only swearing `at large.'"
"Ha-ha! What a girl it is!" chuckled the old man, with the suspicion ofa hiccough. "You ought to go on the stage, dear; you'd make yourfortune."
"No doubt. But I've got to get there first. I say, dad, who d'youthink has just gone?"
"Dunno, don't care; only that I'm devilish glad they have gone. Now Ican have a `peg.'"
"No, you can't."
"Can't! What the devil do you mean, Clytie?"
"What I say. You've had enough of a `peg' to last you till to-night.What you want now is some strong coffee, so come right in and have it."
He grumbled something about not being master in his own house, and agood deal more. But in the end he submitted; for Clytie was the one whoruled him, and, to do her justice, ruled him tactfully and for his good,so far as it lay within her power; whereas Delia was somewhat intolerantof this phase of her parent's weakness, and adopted towards it ascornful attitude.
"Well, dad, you haven't guessed who has just gone," went on Clytie.
"How the blazes should I know--or care?" snapped the old man. "Somespark of yours, I suppose."
"Haven't got any just now. Everyone seems `off' me. Delia's putting mynose clean out of joint," was the placid reply. "Well, what d'you thinkof Wagram?"
"What?" roared old Calmour, who was just in the quarrelsome stage andwas glad of an object whereon to vent it. "He? If I'd been here I'dhave kicked him out of the house."
"No, you wouldn't," said Delia quickly. "You couldn't, to begin with."
"What the--what the--?" And as the old man, purple with rage, let off astring of unstudied profanity, both girls put their fingers to theirears.
"Let's know when you've blown off steam, dad," said Clytie, "then we'lllisten to you again."
At last old Calmour, seeing no fun in cursing without an audience, andbeing, moreover, quite blown, desisted, the resumed thread of his wrathtaking the shape of rumbling growls. He would teach that blanked,stuck-up jackanapes--keeping wild beasts to attack his girls on a publicroad. He didn't care this or that for any blanked Wagram, even if theyowned half the county. He'd knock a thousand pounds damages out of themfor that little job. He'd put it in his solicitors' hands at once, hewould, by so and so.
"You'll do nothing of the sort, dad," said Clytie. "We've got a muchbetter plan than that."
"Oh, you have, have you? And what is it?"
"Not going to tell you--not yet. Leave it to me, and--keep quiet."
Again he grumbled and swore, but Clytie's equanimity was proof againstsuch little amenities. She was not going to let her father into theirscheme only to have him giving it away in his cups, in this or thatsaloon bar about the place, not she. At last, drowsy with the combinedwarmth of the day, his own vehemence, and, incidentally, the liquor hehad imbibed, he subsided on a sofa, and snored.
He did not look lovely as he lay there, open-mouthed and breathingstertorously, his grey hair all touzled about his red and bloated face.It was hard to realise that he could be the father of these two veryattractive girls, yet in his younger days he had been a good-looking manenough. But the effects of poverty and domestic worry, and drink takento drown the care inseparable therefrom, had made him--well, what hewas.
The Red Derelict Page 5
