Part 16 (2/2)
”Lettice--is--engaged--to--Arthur Newcome?”
”Lettice--is--engaged--to--Arthur Newcome!”
”But--but--we knew that he admired her in his solemn way, but she never seemed to like him! She used to make fun of him, and imitate the way he talked!”
Raymond sat up and pa.s.sed in his cup for a fresh supply of tea. What was the good of fainting if n.o.body took any notice! ”I say,” he cried energetically, ”fancy Arthur Newcome proposing! I'd give anything if I could have overheard him. ... 'Miss Bertrand!--Lettice!--may I call you Lettice? Deign, oh deign--'”
”Oh, be quiet, Raymond, and let us hear the letter,” pleaded Norah, who was on the verge of tears with agitation and distress. ”I can't believe it until I hear her own words. Read it, Hilary, from the very beginning.”
Hilary opened out the dainty, scented sheet, and read aloud, with an impressiveness worthy of the occasion:--
”My dearest old Hilary, and Norah, and every one of you,--I have a great piece of news to tell. I am engaged to Arthur Newcome, and he wants to be married some time this autumn. He proposed to me a month ago, on the day of our water party, but father and Miss Carr wished us to wait a month before it was settled, so that I should have time to make up my mind. They think I am so young, but if we wait until September I shall be twenty, and many girls are married at that age. I have a beautiful ring--a big pearl in the centre, and diamonds all round, and Arthur has given me a brooch as well, three dear little diamond swallows--it looks so sweet at my neck! Madge is very pleased, of course, and Mr and Mrs Newcome are very kind. Won't it be nice when I have a house of my own, and you can come and stay with me? I shall have six bridesmaids--you three, Madge, Edna, and either Mabel Bruce or Monica Bewley. You must think of pretty dresses. I like a white wedding, but it doesn't show the bride off so well--that's the great objection. We shall have a great deal to talk about when I come home next month, and I am longing for the time to come. It is so hot and close in town, and Cloudsdale must be looking lovely just now. Father expects to leave on Tuesday.
He does not seem very pleased about my engagement. I suppose parents never are! Good-bye, dear, darling girls. I wish I could be with you now.
”Your own loving Lettice.
”PS--How surprised you will be. Tell me every word you said when you read this letter!”
”Humph I slightly awkward if we took her at her word!” It was Rex who spoke, and there was the same expression of ill-concealed scorn in his voice which had been noticeable on his face since the announcement of the news. ”Charming epistle, I must say. So much about 'dear Arthur'
and her own happiness. One must excuse a little gush under the circ.u.mstances, and Lettice was always demonstrative!”
Hilary looked at him, puckering her forehead in anxious fas.h.i.+on. ”You mean that sarcastically! She says nothing about being happy. I noticed that myself. There is something strange about the whole thing. I am quite sure she did not care for him when I was there in spring. What can have possessed her to accept him?”
”Because he asked her nicely, and puts lots of treacle on the bread,”
said Raymond, laughing. ”You could always make Lettice do what you wanted if you flattered her enough. She would accept any fellow who went down on his knees and swore he wors.h.i.+pped her. Oh, I say I fancy having Arthur Newcome as a brother-in-law! We used to call him 'Child's Guide to Knowledge' when he was at Windermere last summer, because he would insist upon improving every occasion. We played some fine pranks on him, didn't we, Norah? We'll give him a lively time of it again if he comes to visit us, as I suppose he will, under the circ.u.mstances.”
”We can't,” said Norah dolefully. ”He is engaged to Lettice, and she would be vexed. I don't feel as if I could ever play pranks again. I was so looking forward to having Lettice with us again when we went up to London, but now it will never be the same again. Even if she has a house of her own, Arthur Newcome will be there, and I could never, never get to like him as a brother.” She put her cup on the table and walked off by herself into the shrubbery which encircled the lawn, and though the others looked after her in sympathetic silence, they did not attempt to follow. As Lettice's special friend and companion, the news was even more of a shock to her than to the rest, and it was understood that she might prefer to be alone.
Ten minutes later, however, when tea was finished, Rex rose lazily from the ground, stretched his long arms, and strode off in the direction of the shrubbery. Half-way down the path he met Norah marching along in solitary state, white about the cheeks, suspiciously red and swollen about the eyes.
Rex clasped his hands behind his back, and blocked the narrow way.
”Well, what are you doing here?”
”Crying!” Norah flashed a defiant glance at him, then turned aside to dab her face with her handkerchief and gulp in uncontrollable misery, whereupon Rex looked distressed, uncomfortable, and irritated all at the same moment.
”Then please stop at once. What's the use of crying? You can't help it now, better make the best of it, and be as jolly as you can. Norah-- look here, I'm sorry to bother you any more to-day, but I came over specially to have a chat. I have not had a chance of speaking to you quietly until now, and my father is driving round for us at six o'clock.
Before he comes I wanted to tell you--”
Norah put her handkerchief in her pocket, and faced him with steady eyes. Her heart gave a leap of understanding, and a cold certainty of misery settled upon her which seemed to dry up the fountain of tears, and leave her still and rigid.
”Yes?”
”We had a big talk last night, Norah. The three years are up, you know, and I have fulfilled my share of the bargain. I have known all the time what my decision would be, and six months ago I wrote to all the men I know abroad, asking them to look out for the sort of berth I wanted. On Tuesday I had a letter from a man in India offering me a good opening.
You will be surprised to hear why he gives me the chance instead of all the other fellows who are anxious to get it. It is because I am a good musician! I don't mean in your sense of the word, of course, but I can rattle away on the piano and play any air I happen to hear, and he says the fellows up-country set no end of store by that sort of thing. If other qualifications are equal, the post is given to the man who can play, and make things cheerful in the evening. Rather a sarcasm, isn't it, after all the money that has been spent on my education, that such a trifle should decide my destiny? Well--I showed the letter to my father, and he was terribly cut up about the whole thing. I had said nothing about my plans for some time back, for it seemed no use to upset him before it was necessary, but he has been hoping that I was 'settling down.' Norah, I can't do it! I hate leaving home, and shall be wretched when the time comes; but I have roving blood in my veins, and cannot settle down to a jog-trot, professional life in a small English town. If I go out to this place I shall lie low until I have a practical knowledge of the land and its possibilities, and then I'll buy an estate, and work it in my own way. I have the money my uncle left me, and can make my way without asking father for a penny. He is coming over this afternoon, and I am sure he means to talk to you. We didn't say anything to the mater and Edna, but he knows that you and I are friends, and that I will listen to what you say. He means to ask you to persuade me to stay at home. But--you understand how I feel, Norah?”
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