Part 9 (1/2)
”Sit here, Hope. Let me introduce you,” said her aunt; and Hope listened confusedly to a long list of names, bowed automatically from time to time, then thankfully subsided into a seat in a corner. There were two ladies present besides her aunt and cousin--one elderly and prosaic matron, and one young and sparkling brunette, who was busily occupied flirting with three men at the same time, and seemed capable of adding indefinitely to their number. For the rest, there were men in shooting-coats and leather gaiters--old men, middle-aged men, young men, all bronzed and healthy, and remarkably well satisfied with themselves and their day's sport.
Hope studied them shyly as she nibbled at her scone. The buzz of conversation had begun again by this time, and as her presence was apparently forgotten, she was at leisure to pursue her investigations.
The stout, grey man was the husband of the prosaic lady. The merry little man with the round bald head and the short legs was evidently an intimate of the family, for he threw fresh logs on the fire, and even dared to chaff Mrs Loftus herself. The fair youth with the eyegla.s.s was only pretending to be captivated by Miss Brunette; the older man with the fair hair was seriously smitten; the tall, distinguished-looking personage with the haughty eyelids and drooping moustache had the air of being bored by everything and every one. Hope looked at him critically, with a view to describing him to Theo. ”He would make a splendid hero.
Dark features, sharply cut; two horizontal lines in his forehead; lazy eyes that give a flash now and then, and show that he could be active enough if he chose; a square chin; and such great, wide shoulders. He looks quite different from the other men; and yet I don't know why he should.”
She looked him critically up and down, and her eyes, travelling upwards again, found his studying her in return. It might have been an embarra.s.sing discovery, but before it had time to become so the man who was different from other men had strolled across the hall, taken possession of the seat by her side, and was inquiring if she felt tired after her journey, in a tone which seemed to imply that he took not the faintest possible interest in her reply.
”A little tired,” said Hope prosaically, conscious that if Madge had been in her place she would have been ready with a vivacious retort which would have broken the ice of formality. She felt quite unable to frame such a retort. Instead she said simply, ”I am not particularly fond of railway travelling, and I dislike changes. I never feel that I can settle down comfortably when there is a change before me. Even if it is two hours ahead, I cannot determine to undo a rug and make myself comfortable.”
”No?” said Mr Merrilies; and once again his voice sounded so flat and uninterested that she wished she had not been so explicit in setting forth her feelings. She allowed herself to be helped to a second cup of tea, then relapsed into silence, waiting patiently for a fresh lead.
The other men were discussing the day's sport, and presently her companion must needs report on ”the bag” in his turn.
”We have been over the Tansy Woods to-day, seven of us, and the bag was two hundred and fifteen pheasants, a brace of partridges, thirty hares, and ninety-five rabbits. Pretty fair, isn't it?”
”I don't know,” said Hope simply. ”I know nothing about shooting.
Neither my father nor brother was a sportsman, so I cannot judge what is bad or good. It seems a tremendous number.”
She looked so pretty and so winsome as she glanced at him with her childlike eyes that his face relaxed from its set lines, and he smiled in involuntary friendliness.
”A few years ago it would have been a record day, a day to put in the papers, but now it is nothing at all extraordinary. In shooting, as in everything else, the standard has risen, and we are less easily satisfied. It is an age of great expectations; don't you think so?”
”I don't know,” said Hope again; but her brow clouded, and presently she asked in an anxious little voice, ”Do you really think the standard has risen in everything! Would it be more difficult to do well in--er--in any profession, for instance, than it was a dozen years ago! Would you have to be much cleverer?”
”Oh dear, yes! certainly you would. It is a different thing altogether.
A dozen years ago people were easily pleased, and ready to make allowances, but nothing short of perfection satisfies us nowadays. The days of the amateur are past; even professionals need constant study to maintain their high standard.”
”Y-es,” a.s.sented Hope faintly. She thought of her poor little songs, of Theo's ”worrying” story, and Madge's poster-like pictures, and felt a sinking of heart that took away her appet.i.te for scones and plum-cake.
She and her sisters had thought themselves geniuses at dear little Leabourne, but three months' experience of London had brought a bitter disillusionment. She stared at the ground, and Mr Merrilies in his turn stared at her charming profile, and sighed to think that the prettiest girls were generally the most stupid. He was unfeignedly relieved when Avice came forward to take her cousin upstairs to dress for dinner.
The room which had been set apart for Hope was one of the smallest and least handsomely furnished in the house, as became the abode of a poor relation; but it looked attractive enough, all the same, with a bright little fire burning in the grate and the curtains drawn cosily over the windows. Hope's box had already been unpacked, and as there could be no question of ”What will you wear for dinner?” there lay the black silk on the bed, solid and sober. Avice glanced at it carelessly.
”Oh yes, that will do very well. We shall be quite alone,” she said, with a nod; then leant against the mantelpiece and smiled at her cousin with languid friendliness. She gave the impression of wis.h.i.+ng to be really kind, but of lacking the energy to put her intention into effect; as a matter of fact, the girl was too anaemic to feel keen interest in anything or anybody. ”Sure you have all you want? If you require anything just ring, and it will be brought to you at once. You needn't be downstairs for an hour and a half. There are some books over there if you would like to read.”
”Couldn't you stay and talk to me?” asked Hope shyly; but Avice thought not--thought she had better lie down--thought there would be plenty of time to talk another day, and glided listlessly away, leaving the new-comer chilled and disappointed.
A little reading; a home letter written with a ”detaily” description of journey, arrival, and first impressions; a careful if simple toilet, made short work of the hour and a half's waiting, and Hope stopped shyly out of her room to find her way along the corridor. Half-way down a door creaked, a pair of dark eyes peered cautiously forth, followed by the whole of a curly dark head, and Miss Brunette's voice accosted her with the ease and geniality of an old acquaintance.
”There you are! I have been looking out for you for an age! Do come and lace up my dress, there's a kind creature! I have rung the bell three times over, but I suppose it is broken, as n.o.body has appeared. I didn't bring a maid with me this time; did you?”
”I? A maid! I never possessed such a thing in my life,” cried Hope, laughing; at which Miss Brunette stared, looked her critically up and down, and affected to frown.
”Really? But then it doesn't matter to you. You are one of those exasperating people who can't help looking nice, whatever they do. I _did_ bless you when you walked in this afternoon! If there is one thing that makes me wild, it is to have a better-looking girl than myself staying in a house. I have had it all my own way here so far, for Avice is too lazy to count, but now I shall have to play second fiddle. Men are so silly about pretty faces. Do you think I am pretty?
Honestly? Yes, most people do; but, to tell you a dead secret, it is all a mistake. I am really barely good-looking, but I give an impression of prettiness by my vivacity and strict attention to business.”
Hope laughed, and the two girls chattered gaily together over the belated toilet. When it was finished Truda Bennett slid her hand through Hope's arm in friendly confidence.
”You are a dear,” she said. ”I like you. When you came in I thought you were bound to be slow and proper. I always mistrust fair girls with blue eyes. Nine times out of ten they are deadly uninteresting; but I can see you are an exception. I will try not to be jealous of you, if you will promise not to flirt with Ralph Merrilies. I'm especially interested in him; so play fair, won't you? You may have all the others.”