Contrary Cousins

by Judith Harkness

  “Do you think he shall?” demanded Freddy, for he had not thought of this. “Lord! If he discovers it, then my father shall certainly not remain long deluded! And St. John is as like my father in his opinions as if they were two peas in a pod. Sometimes I think he cannot have any brain of his own. Oh, Lord!”

  “Fear not, old thing,” remarked Cuffs, with a sage nod. “It is perfectly simple: we shall not tell anyone they are your cousins. Heaven! There must be hundreds of Powells about, don’t you suppose? I know several. It is nearly as common a name as Smith or Brown. You may count upon it, Freddy—unless we give out the news, no one shall be the wiser. They shall only suppose we are escorting two very charming American ladies. Why, they shall be such a novelty, that no one will question why they have come. You may simply say they are visiting your aunt.”

  Freddy brightened visibly. “You’re right, Cuffs! Why on earth should anyone ask if they are my cousins? Why, to look at them, it would be impossible to guess they are cousins themselves! By Jove, Cuffs—for your sake, I hope the old one has got some sort of evening gown!”

  Such an indecorous sentiment, so indelicately expressed, might well have dampened the enthusiasm of a lesser man. But Lytton-Smythe had made up his mind long before that this evening was to be devoted to the amusement of his friend. He should only go in the guise of cupid’s aid, to divert the elder Miss Powell, that the young lovers could have some peace together. He smiled, therefore, with admirable good humor.

  “I shall keep her in the shadow all evening, Freddy, if it will make you easier. The important thing, as I see it, is to keep out of your brother’s way, if he does come to the Opera. It should not be too difficult—there will be an amazing crowd tonight to see the new piece. So long as you sit in the back of the box, and do not strut about all night, he shan’t see you—for he is not likely to notice either of the Misses Powell, unless he sees they are with you. Such a connection is certain to draw his notice, and raise his curiosity about them.”

  Having agreed that so much was all that could be done for the moment, they arrived at Cadogan Place in reasonably cheerful spirits. They were put into the drawing room by Bentley, who informed them that her ladyship had left some time before for Carlton House.

  “The young ladies dined alone, did they, Bentley?” inquired Freddy.

  “Yes, sir. A light meal was ordered for them. Her ladyship was in a bit of a state before she left.”

  Freddy glanced at the row of gilt chairs, still in position against the potted palms.

  “Been practicing all day?”

  Bentley granted the young man a half smile, and bowed his head.

  “In actual fact, sir, she has been practicing hard all week. But I am perfectly confident of her abilities, sir.”

  “Shan’t sprawl all over the Prince’s feet, eh?” demanded the young man without much propriety.

  “I am sure she shall not, sir. I beg your pardon, sir. Shall I bring in a bottle of port?”

  “Sherry, if you will, Bentley—my nerves are a bit frazzled at the nonce.”

  “Very good, sir,” said the butler, and went off to fetch the wine.

  Freddy, pacing up and down the room, glanced irritably at his friend. Lytton-Smythe looked perfectly composed. He was reclining in one of her ladyship’s ornate campaign chairs with his long legs stretched out before him.

  “Well, I am glad you ain’t nervous, Cuffs!” exclaimed Freddy at last, seeing the slow smile with which his friend was following every move he made.

  “Why, I see no point in it, Freddy! What good is apprehension on my part? You, at least, may be certain of what dangers you face, and have therefore cause for anxiety. I know nothing, save that I am to watch Madame Oscuri perform in Fidelio, that I am to keep you out of view as much as possible, and to protect the identity of our lady friends. Is there something else I should know?”

  Freddy had opened his mouth to speak, when the reappearance of Bentley, bearing a tray with sherry and two glasses, prevented him.

  “How are the ladies?” demanded Freddy nervously, taking out his watch. “We shall miss the beginning, you know, if they do not come soon!”

  “I shall send word up to them, sir,” said Bentley with a bow, and made for the door. With his hand upon the nob he paused, and turned back.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Bentley?”

  The butler coughed. “Her ladyship, sir, was rather insistent before she left that I inform you—uh—she seems to wish to keep the young ladies’ relationship to yourself a secret, sir. I mean to say—she wondered if you might avoid mentioning the fact to anyone, unless it is essential, sir.”

  One of Freddy’s eyebrows mounted slightly.

  “Why, Bentley! How extraordinary—it was my very thought.”

  “I supposed it might be, sir,” muttered the elderly butler, and with the suspicion of a smile, he bowed and withdrew.

  “What do you think of that?” exclaimed Freddy, as soon as the sound of Bentley’s footsteps had died away. “Eh, Cuffs? I’m deuced relieved, I can tell you. I thought perhaps Aunt Winifred might have spread the news about herself—she was in rather a peculiar state of mind about the whole thing when I spoke to her. Seemed rather to relish flaunting them in my father’s face. Well! I can see she has got some sense, after all!”

  “Very lucky for you, I agree, old fellow,” returned Cuffs. “Though, to be frank—I rather wonder what all this secrecy will behoove you in the end. It must come out sooner or later—especially if your feelings for the beauteous Miss Powell continue as they are now.”

  “Yes,” muttered Freddy, staring into the fire with a frown, “I’ve been puzzling about that all day. It had not occurred to me before St. John appeared, I don’t know why. Well! Better later than sooner, in any case. And you know—something may turn up to make things easier!”

  Cuffs smiled enigmatically, and in such a way that Freddy sensed his friend did not foresee such a possibility as very likely. Still, he said nothing, and in a moment a step was heard outside the door. Freddy whirled about, and strode toward it, flinging it open with a flourish, and making a grand bow.

  “My dear Miss Powell!” he exclaimed.

  Antonia stood before him, flushed and radiant in a gown of lavender satin, with rose-colored silk buds in her glossy dark hair and adorning the furbelows of her skirt. Her throat and bosom were bare, revealing a length of lily-white skin touched with pink, her charming slender arms were covered to above the elbow in French kid, and about her throat was a simple diamond necklace.

  “My dear Mr. Howard!” she returned, dimpling prettily, and dropping a mock curtsey, “I am sorry we are so fearfully slow. It is done, however, in all the best houses in America, you know!”

  Freddy watched her with so much admiration in his gaze that Cuffs, standing back by his chair, could not help but smile. Indeed, the young lady was perfectly charming—a delight to look upon, and, from the laughter in her voice and intelligent eyes, no less delightful to converse with.

  Advancing toward this latter gentleman, Antonia raised her hand, and said, “And I suppose this must be Mr. Lytton-Smythe, cousin! Good evening, sir. I suppose we had better not wait for Mr. Howard’s introduction!”

  Cuffs smiled in reply—and saw with one glance at her teasing smile that she was just the sort of girl to tame Freddy’s wandering eye.

  “We had better not, Miss Powell—for I can see by his look that Freddy may not budge again all evening. I have heard a great deal about you, Miss Powell—and about your cousin.”

  “Have you?” demanded Antonia, with a laughing but keen look. “I wonder what my sad relative has told you? Nothing remarkably ill, I hope!”

  “On the contrary. All remarkably favorable.”

  “Well, I am glad to hear it, sir!” remarked the young lady, smiling very broadly at Freddy, who still stood speechless by the door. “For I half feared he might have told you that his American cousins were a very inelegant pair—used only to small dances at t
he Grange, and not fit for the fashionable life in London!”

  This coming, as it did, so close to at least half the truth, Freddy was forced to blush a little. He made, however, a great show of demurring, until Antonia cut him off.

  “Never mind! We shall endeavor not to shame you, Mr. Howard. Serena and I have been practicing all day our walking, speech, and etiquette, so that we might spare you any pain. Serena, I am afraid, is still struggling with her curtsey, and I must go up and help her—I only came to let you know we would be ready in half an instant!”

  And with these words, which had been spoken with a mixture of solemnity and laughter, Antonia turned and disappeared again, leaving Freddy speechless only for a moment.

  “What did I tell you!” he cried. “Is she not the loveliest nymph you ever laid eyes upon? Is she not a morsel, sent from Heaven, for the pleasure of mankind? My dear Cuffs, is she not inspiring?”

  “Very charming, dear Freddy—she seems a most delightful young witch, and lacking nothing in arts to make you miserable for at least a week!”

  “A week!” cried Freddy, appalled at the idea. “Why, a whole lifetime, at least! An eternity, Cuffs—for I should so little weary of her in a mere lifetime, that I should wish to follow her to Heaven or Hell, whichever she likes best!”

  Cuffs smiled indulgently at his friend’s good humor, which really did surpass even the bliss into which his first glimpse of Theonia Ulridge had put him. “I admit she is everything delightful, Freddy,” remarked he.

  Freddy poured forth his passion for a little longer, but suddenly stopped, and looking keenly at his friend, exclaimed, “By Jove, Cuffs! I see why you are not more enthusiastic! Oh, Lord! Why is not life more equal? If only you were to be blessed with such a companion for the evening!”

  And with a very pitying look, which Cuffs received amiably, considering the description he had been afforded of his prospective partner, Freddy recommenced his praise of Antonia.

  This was interrupted, much to the relief of his friend, very shortly, for a rustling was heard just then, and the door again swung open. Cuffs looked up, expecting anything but what he saw, standing in the half-light of the doorway, seeming to hesitate with one foot over the threshold, and the candlelight glimmering upon her hair.

  Chapter XI

  “I shall be more decorous in my introductions than Mr. Howard!” came the light and laughing voice of Antonia, who had stepped into the room immediately after her cousin. “Serena, you are acquainted with Mr. Howard, of course. May I present to you Mr. Lytton-Smythe, his friend?”

  “How do you do?” murmured Serena, raising her eyes shyly to the tall, angular man who was gazing at her wonderingly.

  “How do you do, Miss Powell?” returned that gentleman, bowing over her hand. His voice seemed to come from somewhere other than his own chest, and had a hollow ring. “I have heard a great deal about you.”

  “Lord, how they must talk of us behind our backs, Serena!” exclaimed Antonia, who was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of the two gentlemen. Freddy’s jaw was at about the level of his knees, and he was evidently struck too dumb to utter a sound. Mr. Lytton-Smythe, with a little more grace, had managed to hide his astonishment—but there was so much admiration evident in his remarkable eyes, that she did not doubt he had been led to expect something very different. “It is all they do, I don’t wonder. I suppose they have nothing better to occupy them!”

  “It is perfectly true,” said Mr. Lytton-Smythe, managing to tear his eyes away from the young woman in front of him for a moment, “but what better occupation could there be for two poor creatures, than to discuss the charms of such admirable ladies?”

  “You are too kind, Mr. Lytton-Smythe,” returned Antonia. “Though I do not believe a word you say. Do you think he speaks the truth, Serena?”

  “I—I do not know, Antonia!” replied Serena, flushing. “I shall be better equipped to judge their veracity, when I have known the speaker a little longer.”

  “Most beautifully expressed, Miss Powell,” said Cuffs, with a little bow, “you have acquitted yourself admirably, and turned away your cousin’s jesting spirit with dignity. I doubt not but that she would have preferred you to continue in the same vein, however.”

  “You are a clever, wicked man, sir!” cried Antonia with a laugh, “and I see I had better not toy with your opinion any longer! Well, Mr. Howard, have you nothing to add to our remarks?”

  Freddy, who had so completely lost both tongue and wit during the foregoing that he was no more capable of understanding than of speech, seemed suddenly to jerk into life.

  “Why!” cried he, “you—you look splendid, Miss Powell!”

  “Doesn’t she?” demanded Antonia, turning to look at her friend, who stood quietly beside Mr. Lytton-Smythe, half flushing, and avoiding their looks. “You see, though we are a very rustic nation, and though Serena and I are used only to Grange dances, yet we are capable of mustering something like elegance when it is called for.”

  “I should say so!” exclaimed Freddy. The admiration of his friend, however, was more eloquent, though completely silent. Lytton-Smythe had turned to converse with Serena in low tones, and from watching him for half a moment, Antonia could see that he was bewitched. And no small wonder! Where there had been a tall, thin, stooping figure, self-conscious and painfully shy, now there was an elegant young goddess. Even Antonia, who had been intimately involved with the process of transformation, could not but marvel at it.

  Freddy, who had known nothing about it, was hard put to believe this was the same creature he had beheld several days before. “The old brown witch,” as he had been pleased to call her, had come out of her rags, and now he saw a splendid, regal figure, whose height and slenderness—which had struck him before as unfortunate—only served to enhance her elegance. To be sure, the gown was very beautiful, and she was most becomingly coiffed—but could only the arrangement of curls and of cloth effect so radical a metamorphosis? He did not believe it. Of course, he had been so distracted by her drab clothing and ungainly caps that he had not noticed what magnificent hair she had—a sort of deep golden red, lustrous and thick. But why had he never seen her eyes, so huge and luminous? Nor the delicacy of her features and complexion, now set off against the striking hue of her bodice, cut in a deep décolletage, to reveal an unbelievable length and grace of neck, and slender, shapely shoulders. He had certainly never witnessed so striking an example of the transformation which mere clothing, jewelry, and hair styling could produce. He could not, of course, know of the struggles Antonia and Celeste had endured in coaching Serena to keep her shoulders back, to lift her head high, and to walk as if she were a queen rather than an awkward schoolgirl. He could only admire the effects of their labors, and wonder at them.

  “I am very glad, Freddy,” Cuffs was remarking, “that you prepared me so well for this evening. Else, I should have been struck dumb by the beauty and charm of Miss Powell!”

  These words were spoken with a sly look at this friend, and Antonia was pleased to see the young man beside her look thoroughly embarrassed. For her own part, she hid her smiles as best she could, and seeing that no one else was much prepared to fill the gap of silence, rattled on cheerfully about something or other. Thus was the transition from drawing room to carriage effected, and the commencement of the drive to the Opera House. Presently, however, she saw that Mr. Lytton-Smythe was paying her very little heed, and that his attention was almost completely fastened upon the young woman riding beside him. Serena, for her part, seemed to be holding her own much better than Antonia had dared to hope, to judge from the reluctance with which she had put on her evening gown and submitted to the ministrations of Celeste. Until the very last moment, Antonia had feared her cousin’s sudden rebellion, for, even as they had been coming down the stairs, Serena had whispered to her, “This is all foolishness, Tony. How shall I know what to say to anyone?” To which Antonia had replied, “Only keep your head up, my dear, and smile—and you need not
say anything at all!”

  At first, Antonia had hardly dared hope her cousin would be capable of speaking, but, after seeing Mr. Lytton-Smythe, she had seemed to relax, and presently the two were engaged so deeply in conversation that after watching them a little, Antonia turned to Mr. Howard.

  “I confess, I have waited this evening with great eagerness, Mr. Howard. I really thought that when we came to London we should meet a great many new people, but save for some sightseeing excursions, we have scarcely been out of Cadogan Place.”

  “Truly, Miss Powell?” demanded Freddy. Having got over his initial amazement at seeing the transformed cousin, his fascination was once again fastened upon Antonia. She it was who inspired an irresistible temptation in his breast to seize that small, pert figure in his arms, to see the impudent eyes raised lovingly to his, and to taste the very pretty, very sweet tartness of her curving lips. There was nothing so calculated to raise his own interest as a woman whose admiration could be gained with trouble, and in that teasing look, that irresistibly arch smile, that infinitely calculated sweetness, he detected Trouble in its most enticing form. Determined to prolong the struggle, as much as he was to win it at last, he turned eyes upon her in amazement.

  “Yes, indeed,” returned she, with a coy glance from beneath lowered lashes, appreciated to the full by her companion, “I have been in rather a frenzy to get out!”

  “Well, then,” returned Frederick, looking very grave, “I am sure you shall take a great deal of pleasure from this opera. Madame Oscuri is said to be one of the greatest talents in history. She sings like a bird. I suppose you go to the Opera a good deal at home?”