by Elinor Glyn
BRANCHES,
Friday night, _November 4th._
This morning Mr. Carruthers had his coffee alone. Mr. Barton and Ibreakfasted quite early, before nine o'clock, and just as I was callingthe dogs in the hall for a run, with my out-door things already on, Mr.Carruthers came down the great stairs with a frown on his face.
"Up so early!" he said. "Are you not going to pour out my tea for me,then?"
"I thought you said coffee! No, I am going out," and I went on down thecorridor, the wolf-hounds following me.
"You are not a kind hostess!" he called after me.
"I am not a hostess at all," I answered back--"only a guest."
He followed me. "Then you are a very casual guest, not consulting thepleasure of your host."
I said nothing. I only looked at him over my shoulder as I went down themarble steps--looked at him and laughed, as on the night before.
He turned back into the house without a word, and I did not see him againuntil just before luncheon.
There is something unpleasant about saying good-bye to a place, and Ifound I had all sorts of sensations rising in my throat at various pointsin my walk. However, all that is ridiculous and must be forgotten. As Iwas coming round the corner of the terrace, a great gust of wind nearlyblew me into Mr. Carruthers's arms. Odious weather we are having thisautumn!
"Where have you been all the morning?" he said, when we had recoveredourselves a little. "I have searched for you all over the place."
"You do not know it all yet, or you would have found me," I said,pretending to walk on.
"No, you shall not go now!" he exclaimed, pacing beside me. "Why won't yoube amiable, and make me feel at home?"
"I do apologize if I have been unamiable," I said, with great frankness."Mrs. Carruthers always brought me up to have such good manners."
After that he talked to me for half an hour about the place.
He seemed to have forgotten his vehemence of the night before. He askedall sorts of questions, and showed a sentiment and a delicacy I should nothave expected from his hard face. I was quite sorry when the gong soundedfor luncheon and we went in.
I have no settled plan in my head. I seem to be drifting--tasting for thefirst time some power over another human being. It gave me deliciousthrills to see his eagerness when contrasted with the dry refusal of myhand only the day before.
At lunch I addressed myself to Mr. Barton; he was too flattered at myattention, and continued to chatter garrulously.
The rain came on and poured and beat against the window-panes with asudden, angry thud. No chance of further walks abroad. I escaped up-stairswhile the butler was speaking to Mr. Carruthers, and began helpingVeronique to pack. Chaos and desolation it all seemed in my cosey rooms.
While I was on my knees in front of a great wooden box, hopelessly tryingto stow away books, a crisp tap came to the door, and without more ado myhost--yes, he is that now--entered the room.
"Good Lord! what is all this?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
"Packing," I said, not getting up.
He made an impatient gesture.
"Nonsense!" he said. "There is no need to pack. I tell you I will not letyou go. I am going to marry you and keep you here always."
I sat down on the floor and began to laugh.
"You think so, do you?"
"Yes."
"You can't force me to marry you, you know--can you? I want to see theworld. I don't want any tiresome man bothering after me. If I ever domarry, it will be because--oh, because--" and I stopped and began fiddlingwith the cover of a book.
"What?"
"Mrs. Carruthers said it was so foolish--but I believe I should prefer tomarry some one I liked. Oh, I know you think that silly--" and I stoppedhim as he was about to speak--"but of course, as it does not last, anyway,it might be good for a little to begin like that--don't you think so?"
He looked round the room, and on through the wide-open double doors intomy dainty bedroom, where Veronique was still packing.
"You are very cosey here; it is absurd of you to leave it," he said.
I got up off the floor and went to the window and back. I don't know why Ifelt moved--a sudden sense of the cosiness came over me. The world lookedwet and bleak outside.
"Why do you say you want me to marry you, Mr. Carruthers?" I said. "Youare joking, of course."
"I am not joking. I am perfectly serious. I am ready to carry out myaunt's wishes. It can be no new idea to you, and you must have worldlysense enough to realize it would be the best possible solution of yourfuture. I can show you the world, you know."
He appeared to be extraordinarily good-looking as he stood there, his faceto the dying light. Supposing I took him at his word, after all!
"But what has suddenly changed your ideas since yesterday? You told me youhad come down to make it clear to me that you could not possibly obey herorders."
"That was yesterday," he said. "I had not really seen you--to-day I thinkdifferently."
"It is just because you are sorry for me; I suppose I seem so lonely," Iwhispered, demurely.
"It is perfectly impossible, what you propose to do--to go and live byyourself at a London hotel--the idea drives me mad."
"It will be delightful--no one to order me about from day to night!"
"Listen," he said, and he flung himself into an arm-chair. "You can marryme, and I will take you to Paris, or where you want, and I won't order youabout--only I shall keep the other beasts of men from looking at you."
But I told him at once that I thought that would be very dull. "I havenever had the chance of any one looking at me," I said, "and I want tofeel what it is like. Mrs. Carruthers always assured me I was very pretty,you know, only she said that I was certain to come to a bad end, becauseof my type, unless I got married at once, and then if my head was screwedon it would not matter; but I don't agree with her."
He walked up and down the room impatiently.
"That is just it," he said. "I would rather be the first--I would ratheryou began by me. I am strong enough to ward off the rest."
"What does 'beginning by you' mean?" I asked, with great candor. "Old LordBentworth said I should begin with him, when he was here to shootpheasants last autumn; he said it could not matter, he was so old; but Ididn't----"
Mr. Carruthers bounded up from his chair.
"You didn't what! Good Lord! what did he want you to do?" he asked,aghast.
"Well," I said, and I looked down for a moment; I felt stupidly shy. "Hewanted me to kiss him."
Mr. Carruthers looked almost relieved. It was strange.
"The old wretch! Nice company my aunt seems to have kept!" he exclaimed."Could she not take better care of you than that--to let you be insultedby her guests?"
"I don't think Lord Bentworth meant to insult me. He only said he hadnever seen such a red, curly mouth as mine; and as I was bound to go tothe devil some day with that, and such hair, I might begin by kissinghim--he explained it all."
"And were you not very angry?" his voice wrathful.
"No, not very; I could not be, I was shaking so with laughter. If youcould have seen the silly old thing, like a wizened monkey, with dyed hairand an eye-glass--it was too comic! I only told you because you said thesentence 'begin with you,' and I wanted to know if it was the samething----"
Mr. Carruthers's eyes had such a strange expression--puzzle and amusement,and something else. He came over close to me.
"Because," I went on, "if so--I believe if that is always the beginning, Idon't want any beginnings. I haven't the slightest desire to kiss any one.I should simply hate it."
Mr. Carruthers laughed. "Oh, you are only a baby child, after all!" hesaid.
This annoyed me. I got up with great dignity. "Tea will be ready in thewhite drawing-room," I said, stiffly, and walked towards my bedroom door.
He came after me.
"
Send your maid away, and let us have it up here," he said. "I like thisroom."
But I was not to be appeased thus easily, and deliberately calledVeronique and gave her fresh directions.
"Poor old Mr. Barton will be feeling so lonely," I said, as I went outinto the passage. "I am going to see that he has a nice tea," and I lookedback at Mr. Carruthers over my shoulder. Of course, he followed me, and wewent together down the stairs.
In the hall a footman with a telegram met us. He tore it open impatiently.Then he looked quite annoyed.
"I hope you won't mind," he said, "but a friend of mine, Lord RobertVavasour, is arriving this afternoon. He is a--er--great judge ofpictures. I forgot I asked him to come down and look at them; it cleanwent out of my head."
I told him he was host, and why should I object to what guests he had.
"Besides, I am going myself to-morrow," I said, "if Veronique can get thepacking done."
"Nonsense! How can I make you understand that I do not mean to let you goat all?"
I did not answer--only looked at him defiantly.
Mr. Barton was waiting patiently for us in the white drawing-room, and wehad not been munching muffins for five minutes when the sound of wheelscrunching the gravel of the great sweep--the windows of this room look outthat way--interrupted our made conversation.
"This must be Bob arriving," Mr. Carruthers said, and went reluctantlyinto the hall to meet his guest.
They came back together presently, and he introduced Lord Robert to me.
I felt at once he was rather a pet. Such a shape! Just like the ApolloBelvedere! I do love that look, with a tiny waist and nice shoulders, andlooking as if he were as lithe as a snake, and yet could break pokers inhalf like Mr. Rochester in _Jane Eyre_.
He has great, big, sleepy eyes of blue, and rather a plaintive expression,and a little fairish mustache turned up at the corners, and the nicestmouth one ever saw; and when you see him moving, and the back of his head,it makes you think all the time of a beautifully groomed thorough-bredhorse. I don't know why. At once--in a minute--when we looked at eachother, I felt I should like "Bob." He has none of Mr. Carruthers'scynical, hard expression, and I am sure he can't be nearly as old--notmore than twenty-seven or so.
He seemed perfectly at home--sat down and had tea, and talked in the mostcasual, friendly way. Mr. Carruthers appeared to freeze up, Mr. Barton gotmore _banal_, and the whole thing entertained me immensely.
I often used to long for adventures in the old days with Mrs. Carruthers,and here I am really having them!
Such a situation! I am sure people would think it most improper! I alonein the house with these three men! I felt I really would have to go--butwhere?
Meanwhile I have every intention of amusing myself.
Lord Robert and I seemed to have a hundred things to say to each other. Ido like his voice--and he is so perfectly _sans gene_ it makes nodifficulties. By the end of tea we were as old friends. Mr. Carruthers gotmore and more polite and stiff, and finally jumped up and hurried hisguest off to the smoking-room.
I put on such a duck of a frock for dinner--one of the sweetest,chastened simplicity, in black, showing peeps of skin through the thinpart at the top. Nothing could be more demure or becoming, and my hairwould not behave, and stuck out in rebellious waves and curls everywhere.
I thought it would be advisable not to be in too good time, so sauntereddown after I knew dinner was announced.
They were both standing on the hearth-rug. I always forget to count Mr.Barton; he was in some chair, I suppose, but I did not notice him.
Mr. Carruthers is the taller--about one inch. He must be a good deal oversix feet, because the other one is very tall, too; but now that one sawthem together, Mr. Carruthers's figure appeared stiff and set besides LordRobert's, and he hasn't got nearly such a little waist. But they reallyare lovely creatures, both of them, and I don't yet know which I likebest.
We had such an engaging time at dinner! I was as provoking as I could bein the time, sympathetically, absorbingly interested in Mr. Barton's longstories, and only looking at the other two now and then from under myeyelashes; while I talked in the best demure fashion that I am sure evenLady Katherine Montgomerie--a neighbor of ours--would have approved of.
They should not be able to say I could not chaperone myself in anysituation.
"Dam good port this, Christopher," Lord Robert said, when the '47 washanded round. "Is this what you asked me down to sample?"
"I thought it was to give your opinion about the pictures?" I exclaimed,surprised. "Mr. Carruthers said you were a great judge."
They looked at each other.
"Oh--ah--yes," said Lord Robert, lying transparently. "Pictures areawfully interesting. Will you show me them after dinner?"
"The light is too dim for a connoisseur to investigate them properly," Isaid.
"I shall have it all lit by electricity as soon as possible; I wrote aboutit to-day," Mr. Carruthers announced, sententiously. "But I will show youthe pictures myself, to-morrow, Bob."
This at once decided me to take Lord Robert round to-night, and I told himso in a velvet voice while Mr. Barton was engaging Christopher'sattention.
They stayed such a long time in the dining-room after I left that I was onmy way to bed when they came out into the hall, and could with difficultybe persuaded to remain--for a few moments.
"I am too awfully sorry," Lord Robert said. "I could not get away. I donot know what possessed Christopher; he would sample ports, and talked thehind-leg off a donkey, till at last I said to him straight out I wanted tocome to you. So here I am. Now you won't go to bed, will you?--please,please."
He has such pleading blue eyes, imploring pathetically, like a baby indistress, it is quite impossible to resist him--and we started down thegallery.
Of course, he did not know the difference between a Canaletto and aTurner, and hardly made a pretence of being interested; in fact, when wegot to the end where the early Italians hang, and I was explaining thewonderful texture of a Madonna, he said:
"They all look sea-sick and out of shape. Don't you think we might sit inthat comfy window-seat and talk of something else?" Then he told me heloved pictures, but not this sort.
"I like people to look human, you know, even on canvas," he said. "Allthese ladies appear as if they were getting enteric, like people used inAfrica; and I don't like their halos and things; and all the men are oldand bald. But you must not think me a Goth. You will teach me theirpoints, won't you?--and then I shall love them."
I said I did not care a great deal for them myself, except the color.
"Oh, I am so glad!" he said. "I should like to find we admired the samethings; but no picture could interest me as much as your hair. It is theloveliest thing I have ever seen, and you do it so beautifully."
That did please me. He has the most engaging ways--Lord Robert--and he isvery well informed, not stupid a bit, or thick, only absolutely simple anddirect. We talked softly together, quite happy for a while.
Then Mr. Carruthers got rid of Mr. Barton and came towards us. I settledmyself more comfortably on the velvet cushions. Purple velvet cushions andcurtains in this gallery, good old relics of early Victorian taste. Lotsof the house is awful, but these curtains always please me.
Mr. Carruthers's face was as stern as a stone bust of Augustus Caesar. I amsure the monks in the Inquisition looked like that. I do wonder what hewas going to say, but Lord Robert did not give him time.
"Do go away, Christopher," he said. "Miss Travers is going to teach methings about Italian Madonnas, and I can't keep my attention if there is athird person about."
I suppose if Mr. Carruthers had not been a diplomat he would have sworn,but I believe that kind of education makes you able to put your face howyou like, so he smiled sweetly and took a chair near.
"I shall not leave you, Bob," he said. "I do not consider you are a goodcompanion for Miss Evangeline. I am responsible for her, and I am going totake care of her."
"Then you should not have asked him here if he is not a respectableperson," I said, innocently. "But Italian Madonnas ought to chasten andelevate his thoughts. Anyway, your responsibility towards me isself-constituted. I am the only person whom I mean to obey," and I settledmyself deliberately in the velvet pillows.
"Not a good companion!" exclaimed Lord Robert. "What dam cheek,Christopher! I have not my equal in the whole Household Cavalry, as youknow."
They both laughed, and we continued to talk in a sparring way--Mr.Carruthers sharp and subtle, and fine as a sword-blade; Lord Robertdownright and simple, with an air of a puzzled baby.
When I thought they were both wanting me very much to stay, I got up andsaid good-night.
They both came down the gallery with me, and insisted upon each lighting acandle from the row of burnished silver candlesticks in the hall, whichthey presented to me with great mock-homage. It annoyed me--I don't knowwhy--and I suddenly froze up and declined them both, while I saidgood-night again stiffly, and walked in my most stately manner up thestairs.
I could see Lord Robert's eyebrows puckered into a more plaintiveexpression than ever while he let the beautiful silver candlestick hang,dropping the grease onto the polished oak floor.
Mr. Carruthers stood quite still, and put his light back on the table. Hisface was cynical and rather amused. I can't say what irritation I felt,and immediately decided to leave on the morrow--but where to, fate or thedevil could only know.
When I got to my room a lump came in my throat. Veronique had gone to bed,tired out with her day's packing.
I suddenly felt utterly alone--all the exaltation gone. For the moment Ihated the two down-stairs. I felt the situation equivocal and untenable,and it had amused me so much an hour ago.
It is stupid and silly, and makes one's nose red, but I felt like crying alittle before I got into bed.
