The Toast of the Town

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  ‘Admirably — for her purpose!’ snapped Mrs. Cur-shawe. ‘But I fancy she may have been told a few home truths by the young doctor. From what I saw of him, he wasn’t one to mince his words! And a good thing too, for it’s high time someone took the minx down a peg or two!’

  The song ended, and there was a burst of applause. As it subsided, Georgiana deliberately dropped her reticule underneath Mrs. Curshawe’s chair. Then she bent forward with a mischievous smile on her face, but the flame of anger in her green eyes. She tapped the older woman on the shoulder.

  ‘I am sorry to disturb you, ma’am,’ she said, politely, ‘but while I was sitting behind you during the last song, I dropped my reticule under your chair. Perhaps if you could move a little to one side’

  As they turned and realized who was addressing them, the look on both their faces seemed to Georgy an ample revenge for all that she had suffered from their whispered malice. Mrs. Curshawe stuttered something, and moved her chair at once. Georgy bent down to recover her property, then rose, giving them a sardonic smile.

  ‘Careless of me, but it was soon retrieved,’ she said meaningly. ‘What a pity that a lost reputation is not so easily recovered!’

  She did not stay to see the effect of this, but walked away. She had scarcely taken a step when the schoolboy was at her side.

  ‘I say, Miss Eversley, can I get you some refreshment?’ he asked shyly. ‘There’s a famous spread in the anteroom beyond — mountains of pastries, and a great ham, and ices and jellies galore, besides I don’t know how many other things! More than we see at school in a month of Sundays. I dare say you’re feeling a bit hungry, I confess I am myself.’

  It was on the tip of Georgy’s tongue to say that she was leaving, for this had been her intention. But looking into the eager yet diffident face which was only just an inch or two above the level of her own, she knew that she could not make such a churlish reply. It was not so long since her brother Freddy had been the same age as this boy. Experience and a quick perception told her that he was feeling like a fish out of water, and that only in herself had he recognized a kindred spirit. She gave him a friendly, encouraging smile.

  ‘Why, that’s prodigious kind in you! By all means let’s go and sample these delights together.’ She placed her hand lightly on his arm, and saw the quick flush of pleasure which touched his cheek. ‘But I don’t think I know your name,’ she added.

  ‘I’m a Routledge, ma’am — one of Lady Routledge’s grandsons. But you can call me Clive, if you like,’ he offered with the air of one conferring a jealously guarded favour.

  ‘Then I will call you Clive, and you shall call me Georgy, for your Grandmother was a very close friend of my mother’s,’ she replied. ‘Very well, Clive — lead on to the feast.’

  They were both laughing as they made their way to the refreshment room. On the way they passed close to Mrs. Curshawe and her gossiping friend. Georgy caught the meaning glances which the two ladies bestowed first on her and then on each other as she passed. The angry flash returned for a moment to her eyes. She guessed they would be saying that Georgiana Eversley was at her old tricks again, that even an innocent schoolboy was not safe from her. She tossed her head, and the boy at her side glanced enquiringly at her.

  ‘What’s up, Miss Georgy?’ he asked in the direct way of his kind. ‘Have I somehow annoyed you? ‘Pon my word, I wouldn’t for the world! Assure you — truly!’

  She laughed. ‘Did I look angry, then?’

  He grinned in relief. ‘Mad as fire. There’s a sort of green light comes in your eyes. But I’m glad it wasn’t my doing — who was it who put you out of humour then?’

  They had entered the room, and now stood before a long table loaded with food. She saw with amusement that Clive’s attention began to wander from her.

  ‘Oh, just two females whom I find repulsive,’ she replied airly.

  ‘Most of’em are — oh, not you, of course!’ he hastily amended the thoughtless statement. ‘But what would you like, ma’am? Look at that delicious trifle piled high with cream! And then there’s the pastry — though of course ham is more filling. Perhaps we could start with that, and then work our way on to -‘

  ‘So this is where you are, Clive,’ said a voice at their elbows. ‘Your Mama has been searching for you all over.’

  The boy turned and saw his grandmother standing there. His eyes travelled back to the loaded table. ‘Does she require me at once, ma’am?’ he asked wistfully. ‘I was just about to get something for Miss Eversley to eat.’

  ‘Yes, certainly she does. She is in the other room on the left as you enter. You need not worry about Miss Eversley, Clive,’ as he turned reluctantly to go. ‘I will see that her wants are supplied.’

  ‘And don’t worry about yourself,’ whispered Georgy, ‘there’ll be plenty here when you return, you may depend.’

  ‘You’re a right one, Miss Georgy!’ he whispered back, sketching a bow before he hurried off.

  ‘What in the world were you two whispering about?’ demanded Lady Routledge, tapping Georgiana’s arm with her fan. ‘It comes to something, puss, when you make a conquest of a babe like that!’

  Something in her guest’s face told her that this little pleasantry had misfired. She changed the subject smoothly asking if Georgy would care for some refreshment.

  ‘No thank you, ma’am. I was just about to seek you out and take my leave as a matter of fact. It has been a delightful evening, but I have had so many late nights just lately that I feel a trifle fagged. I am sure you will understand.’

  ‘Of course, my dear child.’ Lady Routledge studied Georgy’s face thoughtfully. ‘It seemed to me you were not quite in spirits when you arrived. Perhaps you’ve been overdoing things — you young people will try to cram eight and forty hours into every day! I suppose this means that you will be depriving me of Pamyngton’s company too. He was your escort this evening was he not?’

  Georgy assented.

  ‘Then I will send someone to find him. He is a dear boy, is he not? So like his Mama! Never out of humour, and always ready to oblige a hostess by helping to entertain a difficult guest — I declare I do not know any gentleman I would rather invite to my occasions. But there’ — darting a shrewd glance at Georgy — ‘I dare say I need not sing his praises to you, of all people. Tell me, my dear — you won’t mind an old friend asking you, I’m sure, for I’ve known you since you were a baby — tell me, do you mean to have him in the end? I’m sure you couldn’t find a better husband anywhere!’

  ‘I — I don’t think of marriage at present,’ stammered Georgy.

  ‘It’s time you did, my dear. How old are you, now? One and twenty isn’t it? At your age I had brought two children into the world — and so had your Mama. Take my advice, and don’t leave marriage for too long. A woman’s notions become nicer, the older she gets, until no man seems quite good enough for her, and she most likely ends up as an old maid. And that will never do for you, my dear Georgiana. You are by far too handsome and lively for such a fate.’ Seeing the expression on Georgy’s face, she broke off and patted her hand. ‘There, my dear, I’ve said enough, even for an old friend. I won’t keep you any more, but let you go home.’

  After Pamyngton had handed Georgy up into his carriage, he began some light-hearted comments on the evening’s entertainment. He soon found that she was not attending, however, and said no more for a time. When the silence had lasted for several minutes, he asked her solicitously if she felt tired.

  ‘No — yes — I don’t know!’ replied Georgy, impatiently. ‘It has been a stupid, boring evening!’

  ‘Has anything happened to vex you particularly?’ he asked carefully.

  She was about to deny it, but changed her mind at the last minute.

  ‘Oh, that stupid female, Mrs. Curshawe!’ she answered with a shrug. ‘She was gossiping about me to one of her cronies, and I chanced to overhear them. They say eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves,’ she added rue
fully, attempting a smile.

  ‘I am sure you need pay no attention to the idle chatter of elderly females who have no better way of passing their time,’ he replied.

  ‘No — but Mrs. Curshawe was talking about her son, and — and saying that I had led him on,’ went on Georgy, indignantly. ‘And as she happens to be the third person to accuse me of that in the last few days — without the slightest justification! — I just felt — oh, I can’t tell you! Mad as fire!’ she concluded, borrowing from Clive Routledge’s vocabulary.

  He nodded. ‘Who were the others?’

  She shrugged again, and as they passed under a street lamp, he saw that her lips were trembling.

  ‘My brother Hugh, for one,’ she said, unsteadily.

  ‘And the other?’

  He thought she was not going to answer; but after a moment she said in a very thin voice, ‘Dr. Graham.’

  He drew in his breath sharply. ‘I see. One might ask what concern it was of his?’

  Georgy’s hands clenched tightly together in her lap.

  ‘He — he knows about the bet,’ she said. ‘Henry Curshawe told him.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘No, you don’t!’ she said explosively, and suddenly burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, my dear!’

  He placed an arm about her shoulders, at the same time fishing a large white handkerchief from his pocket.

  ‘Use this,’ he said gently, offering it to her.

  She pressed the handkerchief to her face, turning slightly to lay her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Oh, Pam!’ she whimpered, incoherently. ‘What a fool I am!’

  ‘Nothing of the kind,’ he murmured, comfortingly, stroking her hair with gentle fingers.

  She sobbed quietly for a moment. He tightened his hold on her, but said nothing. Presently she took the handkerchief from her face, and looked up at him, still nestling against his shoulder.

  ‘You’re such a comfort, Pam!’

  Her green eyes were misty with tears, her expression that of a small lost child. A swift surge of compassion caught at him. He bent his head and kissed her very gently on the lips.

  ‘Give me the right to comfort you always, my dear,’ he whispered, as he drew back reluctantly from the embrace.

  She smiled ruefully, shaking her head.

  ‘Why not?’ he persisted, though still gently. ‘Could you not learn to love me a little, Georgy? I worship you — but then, you must know that already.’

  ‘That’s why it wouldn’t be fair,’ she answered, with another shake of the head. ‘I don’t return your feelings in the same measure. You deserve nothing less.’

  ‘Few of us are lucky enough to get our deserts,’ he said. ‘A little affection from you would mean more to me than another woman’s entire devotion.’

  ‘You think so now, but it wouldn’t do. You could not be content with less than everything — no one could.’

  He smiled. ‘Ah, but you are such a whole-hearted person, my love — if I may call you so.’ He paused, but she made no objection. ‘Let me be the judge of my own happiness. If you will only be my wife, I will be content to wait for your affection to grow. You see’ — looking down at her tenderly — ‘I don’t think so poorly of myself as to believe that it won’t grow, given time.’

  Her look was thoughtful. ‘You may be right,’ she said, slowly. ‘I am very fond of you, after all, and everyone seems agreed that we are prodigiously well suited. We have had some capital fun together — and I can’t imagine that you would ever vex me, or hurt me ‘ she broke off. ‘But there’s no — no — magic,’

  she concluded, sadly.

  ‘Perhaps we can conjure some up, together,’ he said, hoarsely. ‘Georgy — my love’

  She raised her head hurriedly from his shoulder, and placed a restraining hand on his chest.

  ‘No, you mustn’t kiss me again, Pam. Not yet — not now. I want to think ‘

  He raised the hand to his lips. ‘Must you think, my darling? Marry me first, and we’ll do the thinking together afterwards.’

  ‘It would be too late then.’ She moved a little away from him, and he released her hand, watching her face intently. ‘Pam’ — her tone had changed to one of decision — ‘I know what I must do. I must make up my mind, once for all.’

  ‘That’s just what I’ve been trying to make you do ‘

  ‘Yes, but not now,’ she interrupted him, ‘not like this, when I am upset and looking for comfort. I must go right away from you, Pam — I must be able to think’

  He started to protest, but she cut him short.

  ‘I shall go back to Hugh’s,’ she said, decidedly, ‘and stay there until after Sue has had her baby. That means I shall be there for some weeks. And you are not to follow me, Pam, nor to write to me.’

  ‘But that’s too cruel, Georgy! What on earth shall I do with myself while you are away? But I suppose’ — with a resigned sigh — ‘you will do whatever you choose.’ He turned towards her again. ‘Will nothing persuade you to give me an answer now?’

  ‘No, Pam. I must be sure. But when I do return to London, I will give you my answer. And I promise you there shall be no shilly-shallying on my part — it will be plain ‘Yes or No.’’

  ‘Very well, dearest Georgiana, if you will have it so, I suppose I must be content. But it is monstrous hard.’

  CHAPTER 18

  Intercession

  Characteristically, Georgy lost no time in carrying out her intention, but posted back to Fulmer Towers on the following day. With less than a fortnight to go to her confinement Susan was very pleased to see her.

  ‘Aunt Lavinia and Mrs. Levibond between them are nearly killing me with kindness, Georgy! I was never so cossetted in my life! It will be good to have someone near me who’s able to treat me as if I were a normal female, and not something made of delicate china.’ ‘Margaret Radley is a sensible enough woman.’

  ‘Oh, the Radleys returned to London yesterday, after Pam had left. There is only Freddy here, now, and he will be gone in a day or two.’

  ‘Well, Sue, you wouldn’t wish to have a large party in the house for your lying-in.’

  ‘I assure you I don’t mind how many people there may be, just as long as you are here — and Hugh, of course. What I do feel is the need of someone lively about me.’

  But during the next few days, Susan was not to find her sister-in-law at all a lively companion. Georgy seemed to have developed a taste for solitary rides and walks, and for poring over books or magazines instead of indulging in the light-hearted chatter which they had always shared. Susan could not help but notice, too, that very often the book that Georgy was supposed to be reading would rest in her hands at the same page for half an hour at a stretch while her eyes gazed un-seeingly at the print. Undoubtedly there was something very wrong: Susan recalled the way her sister-in-law had rushed off just over a week ago to London and felt certain that, whatever the trouble was, it had started then. She determined to get to the bottom of it, and with this in view persuaded Georgy to take a walk with her in the shrubbery one morning. Aunt Lavinia, who disliked all forms of exercise, was glad to let them go alone.

  They strolled along the paths in silence for a while. They passed a couple of gardeners busy sweeping up the golden leaves and transporting them in wheelbarrows to a great mound from which fragrant blue smoke issued.

  ‘I love the smell of garden bonfires,’’ said Susan, breaking the silence.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Georgy, absently. ‘But it’s sad to see those beautiful leaves burnt. Still’ — with a sigh — ‘I suppose all beauty has to fade. Autumn is a melancholy season, don’t you think?’

  ‘Not to me — not at present!’ laughed Susan.

  ‘No, I forgot. Of course, you are happy, so you will not feel it.’

  ‘And aren’t you happy, Georgy?’

  The other girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know — no, I don’t think so. Not particularly ‘

  ‘Be honest, love, and admi
t it,’ urged Susan, gently. ‘Something has made you unhappy. I know it — you cannot take me in. I know you too well.’

  ‘I suppose you do.’

  Susan waited a moment for something to be added to this grudging admission. When her sister-in-law still kept silent, she prompted, ‘Well, then — don’t you intend to tell me what it is?’

  Georgy kicked at a stone lying in the path in a way that either Mrs. Curshawe or Aunt Lavinia would have unhesitatingly condemned as unladylike.

  ‘I’m not sure that I can,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not sure that I know myself, altogether.’

  ‘Well, I think it would help you to talk about it,’ said Susan, firmly. ‘I’ve been watching you since you came back, Georgy, and you’ve been behaving just like a broody hen! All those books you pretend to read — and you’re always slipping off on your own on one pretext or another — it doesn’t require anyone with a very intimate knowledge of your character to see that you are not at all yourself at present.’

  Georgy gave a short laugh. ‘I suppose I have been rather a surly creature. Poor Sue, you deserve better of me! I am supposed to be keeping your spirits up.’

  ‘My spirits were never better, but we really must try to see what can be done to mend yours. Won’t you trust me, love? We always used to confide in each other, once.’

  The faint reproach stirred Georgy’s conscience.

  ‘I know, my dear, but it would be brutal of me to burden you with my troubles at present. You must see that. Besides, there is nothing so very dreadful, after all,’ she added, with an attempt at lightness which did not quite succeed.

  ‘Then tell me, if it isn’t so very dreadful, why has it changed you from a lively, carefree girl into a dreary, brooding female?’

  ‘Oh, dear, is it as bad as that?’ asked Georgy, with a laugh. ‘Very well, Sue, I’ll tell you. Since I came back here, I have been trying to make up my mind whether or not to accept an offer of marriage.’