Part 14 (1/2)

”He is actually animated! I always said that it would take a convulsion of nature to rouse him from his deadly propriety, but upon my word he looks excited. What can have happened?”

The laws of propriety do not always permit us to ask the questions nearest our hearts, however, and Miss Carr was obliged to content herself with commonplaces.

”It is a beautiful day. I suppose Madge got home safely last night?

She isn't too tired after the picnic, I hope!”

”A little fatigued, I believe, but no doubt she will have recovered before evening. She is apt to get excited on these occasions and to exert herself unduly.”

”n.o.body can say the same of you, more's the pity,” was Miss Carr's mental comment. ”Madge rows very well, and the exercise will do her no harm,” she said shortly, and relapsed into determined silence. ”I suppose he has something to say, some message for Lettice most likely; better let him say it and take himself off as soon as possible,” was her hospitable reflection; but Mr Newcome sat twirling his hat and studying the pattern of the carpet in embarra.s.sed silence.

Three times over did he clear his throat and open his lips to speak, before he got the length of words.

”Miss Carr, I--er, I feel that I am--er--I am deeply sensible of my own unworthiness, and can only rely on your generosity, and a.s.sure you of my deep and sincere--”

”What in the name of all that is mysterious is the man driving at?”

asked Miss Carr of herself; but she sat bolt upright in her seat, with a flush on her cheeks and a pang of vague, indefinite fear at her heart.

”My dear Mr Newcome, speak plainly, if you please! I cannot follow your meaning. In what respect are you a claimant for my generosity?”

”In respect of what is the most important question of my life,” replied Mr Newcome, recovering his self-possession at last, and looking her full in the face, in what she was obliged to confess was a very manly fas.h.i.+on--”In respect to my love for your ward, Miss Bertrand, and my desire to have your consent to our engagement, to ratify her own promise.”

”Her own promise! Your engagement! Lettice? Do you mean to tell me that you have proposed to Lettice and that she has accepted you?”

”I am happy to say that is my meaning. I had intended to consult you in the first instance, but yesterday, on the river, we were together, and I--I--”

He stopped short with a smile of tender recollection, and Miss Carr sat gazing at him in consternation.

Arthur Newcome had proposed to Lettice, and Lettice had accepted him.

The thing was incomprehensible! The girl had showed not the slightest signs of preference, had seemed as gay and heart-whole as a child. Only a fortnight before she had convulsed Miss Carr with laughter by putting on Mr Rayner's top-coat, and paying an afternoon call, _a la_ Arthur Newcome, when all that young gentleman's ponderous proprieties had been mimicked with merciless fidelity. And she had actually promised to marry him!

”I--excuse me--but are you quite sure that you understood Lettice aright? Are you sure you are not mistaken?”

Mr Newcome smiled with happy certainty.

”Quite sure, Miss Carr. I can understand your surprise, for I find it difficult to believe in my own good fortune. Lettice is the sweetest, most beautiful, and most charming girl in the world. I am not worthy of her notice, but there is nothing that I would not do to ensure her happiness. She is all the world to me. I have loved her from the day we first meet.”

He was in earnest--horribly in earnest! His voice quivered with emotion, his eyes were s.h.i.+ning, and his face, which was usually immovable, was radiant with happiness. Miss Carr looked at him, and her heart fell. If the mere thought of Lettice could alter the man in this manner, she could imagine the transformation which must have pa.s.sed over him as he spoke to the girl herself, among the trees and flowers on the river-bank; and, alas for Lettice! she could imagine also how easily gratified vanity might have been mistaken for reciprocal love. It had been late when they returned from the water party the night before, and Lettice had hurried off to bed. She had been a trifle more lingering than usual in her good-night embrace, but Lettice was always demonstrative in her ways, so that the fact had attracted no attention, and the morning had been so full of engagements that there had been no time for private conferences.

Miss Carr was speechless with grief, disappointment, and dismay. Her anxious training for the last three years, her motherly oversight, her hopes and prayers for the welfare of her beloved child, had they all ended in this, that Lettice had been too selfish to discourage admiration which she could not return?--too weak to say no to the first man who approached with flattering words? Poor, foolish child! What misery she had prepared for herself and everyone belonging to her!--for of course it was all a mistake, her heart was not really touched; the engagement could not be allowed. With a sigh of relief Miss Carr reflected that the onus of responsibility was lifted off her shoulders by the fact of Mr Bertrand's arrival in town that very afternoon, and also that Lettice's engagements for the day would prevent a meeting until she had been able to consult with her father. She drew a long sigh, and her voice sounded both sad and tired as she replied--

”Ah, well! I am only Lettice's guardian in name, Mr Newcome; I have no authority to refuse or to sanction her engagement. I have had a telegram to say that Mr Bertrand is coming to town on business to-day, so you will be able to see him to-morrow and hear what he has to say.

Lettice is very young--too young, in my opinion, to be able to know her own mind. I wish there had been no such questions to disturb her for the next two or three years. I don't know what Mr Bertrand will think.”

”I am in a good position.I can provide a name that will not be unworthy of her. You know me and my family. We have been friends for years. She would have the warmest welcome--”

”Yes, yes, I am sure of that. I will tell Mr Bertrand all you say, Mr Newcome, and if you call to-morrow morning you will find him at home.

In the afternoon he will probably be engaged. I can say nothing, and-- Excuse me! I am not so young as I was, and I feel a good deal upset...”

Arthur Newcome rose at once, and held out his hand in farewell.