I thought, It's from Esmeralda! and hurried to thank her.
She looked blank. "I wish I'd thought of it, Ellen. It is just right for your dress. I thought there'd be flowers for anyone who wanted them."
"But not for poor relations," I responded; I was not bitter with Esmeralda, who was always most kind, just happy because I had my orchid.
I enjoyed trying to think who had sent it to me. I thought it must be Cousin William Loring because I had fancied he was a little uneasy at my going away to work for Mrs. Oman Lemming and Rose told me that she had heard him say to the mistress that there was no need for me to go.
"He rather suggested that when Esmeralda married she might like to take you with her as a sort of companion and secretary perhaps because once Philip gets into his stride he is going to have a very busy life and his wife will have to do a great deal of entertaining. I don't think he liked the idea of your going but She was firm about it."
So it seemed very likely that the orchid had come from kind Cousin William.
It was beautiful and there was no doubt that it transformed my dress. I no longer felt dowdy. Esmeralda gave me a pin with a small solitary diamond with which to hold it in place. I dressed with special care, piling my hair high on my head. I thought I looked quite elegant.
Esmeralda looked pretty in her magnificent gown but she was nervous, very conscious that she was the reason for the ball's being given and she was apprehensive at the notion of receiving a proposal.
"I wish we didn't have to grow up, Ellen," she said. It was clear that the prospect of a grand marriage appalled her. "They all think I'm going to marry Philip, but I never thought he liked me very much. After all, he did push me into the Serpentine."
"That was when we were children. Men often fall in love with girls they've not noticed when they were children."
"But he did notice me... enough to push me into the water."
"Well, if you don't want to marry him you can always say no."
"But you see, Mama wants it and . . ."
I nodded. What she wanted she usually got.
I comforted her. Her father would be on her side, so there was no reason why she should marry anyone if she didn't want to.
I had received instructions a few days before from Cousin Agatha. "You will make yourself useful, Ellen. In the supper room make sure that people are well served. Keep your eyes especially on Lady Emily, and see that she is well looked after. I shall find one or two gentlemen to whom I shall introduce you, and perhaps they may ask you to dance."
I could visualize the evening. Ellen the Poor Relation—in somber black to distinguish her from the real guests. "Ellen, do tell Wilton we need more salmon." Or "Ellen, poor old Mr. Something is sitting alone. Come and let me introduce you. He may ask you to dance." And there would be Ellen stumbling round with rheumaticky old Mr. Something when her feet longed to be gliding over the floor with a kindred spirit.
How different it was. Not at all what I had dreaded. Right from the first Philip was beside me.
"So you received my orchid," he said.
"Yours!"
"No one else would send you flowers, I hope."
I laughed, for he and I had always been special friends.
We danced together. I wondered if Cousin Agatha noticed and hoped so. How well our steps fitted! I knew they did because we used to dance together in the country—jigs we made up as we went along.
"Did you know I was here tonight as the Poor Relation?" I asked.
"What does that mean?"
"That I have to keep my eyes open for neglected guests."
"That's all right. You keep your eyes on me, for if you don't I shall feel very neglected."
"And you. . . one of the Carringtons!" I mocked.
"But only a younger son."
"Is Great Rollo here tonight?"
"Great Rollo is far away. He's hardly ever here."
"That makes you the catch of the season, I suppose."
"Listen," he said. "Let's talk. I've a good deal to say to you. Where can we get away to be quiet?"
"There are one or two smaller rooms on this floor. They have been set aside for private conversations."
"Let's go then."
"Ought you, or more important still, ought I? Cousin Agatha's eagle eyes will be searching for me soon if she has some aging gentleman who might care to amble round the floor with me."
"All the more reason why you should escape."
"Is this a game? We are not fourteen any more, remember."
"Thank heaven for that, and it's deadly serious."
"Is something wrong?"
"It could be quite the reverse, but I must talk to you, Ellen."
We sat in one of the small rooms in which were pots of plants, a settee and a few chairs. I sat on the settee and Philip was beside me.
"Ellen," he said, "I've been hearing things. Your servants talk to ours and ours to yours. These people know as much of our affairs as we do ourselves. More perhaps. The whispers indicate that you are indeed going away to be a governess to those odious Oman Lemming children."
"I've told you it's true."
"I didn't really believe it. You ... a governess!"
"The only occupation for a young lady of some gentility, education and no money."
"But why. . . after all these years?"
"Cousin Agatha was doing her duty to the defenseless child. Now the child has become a woman and must fend for herself, so she is being given a gentle but very firm push into the cruel world."
"We'll put a stop to that. We're not having you governessing to that woman. She's poisonous."
I turned to him abruptly and my fear of the future suddenly enveloped me in earnest.
He took me by the shoulders and, laughing, held me against him. "Ellen, you idiot, do you think I'd ever let you go?"
"What authority would you have to stop me?"
"The best of all authority. Of course you're not going to be governess to that woman's children! I happen to know they're terrors. I always meant it would be us two, Ellen. You and I are going to get married. That's the answer. I always meant we should."
"You . . . marry me! But you're going to marry Esmeralda. It's all arranged. That's what this dance is for."
"What nonsense!"
"That's where you're wrong. This dance is for Esmeralda, and I have it on good authority that during it or after it, they are hoping to announce your engagement to her."
"They say hope springs eternal in the human breast. But 'they,' by whom I presume you mean the Lorings, are going to find they have made a mistake. Engagement yes, but to Ellen not Esmeralda."
"You mean you'd announce your engagement to me tonight?"
"Of course. I always had a sense of the dramatic. You know that."
"What will your parents say?"
"They'll be delighted."
"To accept me! You're joking."
"I am not" He looked very serious. "My father likes you. He said you were amusing and he likes to be amused."
"And Lady Emily?"
"She'll like you too. She wants me to be happy above all else."
Perhaps, but they can't possibly want me as your wife."
"That's where you're wrong. I've hinted to them and they're full of approval. They think I ought to get married soon."
I just did not believe it. I was quite bewildered. Philip had always liked to joke. Of course Philip and I had always been the best of friends, to the exclusion of Esmeralda; he had always expressed disappointment when I did not appear at the social gatherings Cousin Agatha arranged. I should have known; I wasn't in love with him. I couldn't be, because I had imagined his marriage to Esmeralda without any great sorrow. The fact was that Cousin Agatha had so impressed on me my inferior status and the glory of the Carringtons that I could never imagine myself marrying into that family—even to Philip. Now it excited me, not, alas, so much because of Philip—whom I liked very much of course—but because marriage with him would me
an that I did not have to take up the post of governess with the odious Mrs. Oman Lemming and her brood, who, I was sure, were as unpleasant as she was. Chiefly perhaps I was savoring the triumph of being the chosen one. The sight of Cousin Agatha's face if our engagement were announced would compensate me for years of humiliation, and I would have been inhuman not to relish the thought. As for Esmeralda, for whom I had an affection, she would not be in the least displeased. She had never wanted a Carrington marriage and she had insisted that Philip despised her ever since he had pushed her into the Serpentine.
"Well," said Philip. "You seem at a loss for words. It's the first time I've ever known you so."
"It's the first time I have ever had a proposal of marriage."
"We'll have fun together, Ellen."
I looked at him and believed we would.
"I hadn't thought of you as a husband," I said.
"Why ever not? I thought it was obvious."
"You never mentioned it."
"Well, I'm mentioning it now." He took my hands in his and kissed me. "Well," he said. "What now?"
"Give me time," I said. "I have to get used to the idea."
"You're not getting coy, are you? That's not like you."
"Look at it from my point of view. I came here expecting an announcement of Esmeralda's engagement."
"To me!"
"Of course to you. Cousin Agatha had set her heart on a Carrington son-in-law. And what she sets her heart on she usually gets."
"She'll have to put up with one as cousin-in-law."
"Second . . . several times removed."
"Well, who cares about her anyway?"
"I'm liking you more every minute."
He put his arm about me. "It's going to be fun, Ellen. There's going to be no more of this poor-relation stuff. When I heard about that governessing project I knew I had to take action. The family want me to marry. They've been on about it for some time. I think what they want is grandchildren and it doesn't seem as if Rollo is going to have any sons or even daughters."
"Why not?"
"Oh . . . it's a bit complicated. His wife's a bit . . . strange. I'll tell you sometime. But it means the family is very anxious for me to marry."
"You'll be a young husband."
"You'll be an even younger wife."
I was getting used to the idea and liking it more. I had to start thinking of my old friend Philip as a husband. It was not difficult. I was beginning to enjoy myself.
Philip was telling me how he had always loved me although when we were children he hadn't thought of it as love. He had merely enjoyed being with me. When he came to the country the first thing he thought of was whether I would be there. "They were good times we had together, Ellen," he said.
He went on to talk of what our life would be. We would travel a great deal. It would be necessary for his business. Rollo did most of it, but he was going to help him. It would be great fun, he told me. We would go out to India and Hong Kong and stay there for a while. He was learning about his father's business and I could help him in this because when we were in London we should have to entertain a good deal.
He was opening out a glittering vista to me. We would have an establishment of our own in London not far from the parental home. He would see that I was introduced to the most exclusive dressmaker. "You'll be stunning in the right clothes, Ellen," he told me. "You're a beauty, you know, only it's never shown to advantage."
"Cousin Agatha insists on hiding my light under a bushel," I said. "I'm the sort to let it shine forth."
"So it should do. My God, Ellen, it's going to be wonderful."
"Yes," I said. "I do believe it is."
Then he held me against him and we laughed together.
"Who'd have thought it?" I murmured. "After the way you used to bully me!"
"It was latent love," he told me.
"Was it really?"
"You know it was. I must have decided years ago that I was going to marry you."
"One of those secret decisions. . . secret even to yourself," I said. "You were terribly critical of me."
"That was a symbol of my feelings."
"What would your praise be?"
"Wait and see."
I was happy. It was the old bantering relationship and the prospects he was offering me were brilliant.
"You know I shall bring no dowry."
"I'll take you without."
"You'd get a good one, you know, with Esmeralda."
"I'm not tempted. It has to be Ellen or no one."
I put my arms about his neck and kissed him heartily; it had to be at that moment that Cousin Agatha appeared.
"Ellen!" Her voice was shrill with mingled disbelief and righteous anger.
I broke away from Philip and stood up uneasily.
"What are you doing here? This is disgraceful. I shall talk to you later. In the meantime guests are being neglected."
"Not all of them," said Philip cheekily. He had always liked to disconcert Cousin Agatha and he invariably did, because she wanted to be indignant with him but how could she be so with a Carrington?
I said: "I'll go and see what I can do."
I wanted to get away because I still could not believe that Philip was really serious. He tried to take my hand, but I was away too quickly. I wondered what he said to Cousin Agatha. Later he told me that she made a remark about the weather, which of course she would consider the very height of good taste and subtle diplomacy in changing the subject.
I was in a whirl. I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes brilliant. I decided that the black gown was not so unbecoming after all.
Then Mr. Carrington asked me to dance with him and I did. I found him courteous and charming. We talked about the play we had seen together and I sat out with him afterwards. It was not long before Philip joined us.
"She's said yes, Father," he told Mr. Carrington.
Mr. Carrington nodded, smiling. He took my hand and pressed it. "I am very happy," he said. "You seem to me a remarkable young woman."
"We'll announce it at supper," said Philip. "You can do it, Father. Better not let Mother. She'll forget who's to be the bride and before I know where I am I'll be partnered off with someone most unsuitable."
Philip and I danced together. It was the waltz and our steps fitted perfectly. Had we not gone to dancing classes together?
"Your Cousin Agatha is glaring like a gorgon," he informed me.
"Let her," I answered. "That particular gorgon has now no power to turn me to stone nor even into a governess."
"Ellen, I fancy you're rather pleased with life."
"I know just how Cinderella felt when she went to the ball."
"I must make a delightful Prince Charming."
"He rescued her from the ashes. You've rescued me from Cousin Agatha and the Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming, who are far more deadly."
"Remember it, Ellen. I shall remind you over the next fifty years."
"And after that?"
"I shall have brought you to such a state of gratitude that you will never need to be reminded. That'll take care of the next twenty years."
"How odd to think of us . . . old."
"A fate to which we all must come, even my divine Ellen."
"Oh, Philip, I'm happy. Life is going to be so . . . amusing, isn't it?"
"Just imagine us together with no Nanny Grange hovering to observe decorum and silly little Esmeralda trailing on."
"Don't be unkind to Esmeralda. You're fond of her really, and she is very dear to me. Don't forget she's lost a bridegroom tonight."
"They couldn't have been serious about that."
"Why not? They wanted her married. Your parents evidently wanted you married. Two families governed by financial wizards! What could be better than a merger? And you have spoilt it all by preferring the Poor Relation."
"You're the one who's spoilt it. Who could look at Esmeralda with you around?"
When the waltz was over he took me to my seat and Philip talked about the future, but I was too absorbed in the glorious present to think very much about it. And when we went in to supper, Mr. Carrington made the announcement to the company. He said how pleased he was to tell them all that this was a very special occasion for his family because his son Philip had confided in him that he had asked for the hand of a young lady who had promised to be his wife. He wanted everyone to drink to the health and future happiness of Miss Ellen Kellaway and his son Philip.
What a hush there was in the dining room, where the great table was so expertly dressed by Wilton and his minions, laden with cold salmon, meats of all descriptions, salads and desserts, and the black-gowned white-capped-and-aproned staff stood at intervals like sentries waiting to serve. All eyes were on me. I knew that some of the stern dowagers were thinking: But it was to be Esmeralda, and if not Esmeralda, were not their own daughters far more eligible than Agatha Loring's Poor Relation?
And there was I in my simple black gown made beautiful by Philip's orchid, just as I was made attractive because I was the chosen one. I knew my eyes were shining, my cheeks faintly flushed; and I sensed that Philip was proud of me. He gripped my hand firmly. Yes, I was happy as I had rarely been. It was a miracle. Mrs. Oman Lemming faded away as a nightmare does by day. She and her establishment were just an evil dream. No more humiliation. It was ironical. I, the despised, was to be one of the Carringtons. And there was Philip beside me, metaphorically fitting the glass slipper on my foot and proclaiming me as the one he had chosen.
Lady Emily wafted up to me and kissed me on the ear. I think she had meant it to be my cheek but she always missed the point; then Mr. Carrington took my hand and kissed it and his smile was warm and welcoming. Esmeralda came up and threw her arms about me. Dear Esmeralda! Even though she had not wanted to marry Philip she might have felt a little piqued to be passed over. Not she! She could see that I was happy, and she was contented too.
Philip and I sat together with his parents. Cousin Agatha and Cousin William Loring eventually joined us with Esmeralda. It was a kind of ritual—the two families together to celebrate the happy event. Cousin Agatha tried bravely to hide the fury in her heart and I had to admit she contrived to do so very well. But when I met her gaze once it was quite venomous.
Lord of the Far Island Page 5
