Part 16 (1/2)
Having enclosed and addressed these lines, he took up his greatcoat--and checked himself in the act of putting it on. The brown miss was a British miss. A strange New Englander had better be careful of his personal appearance, before he ventured into her presence. Urged by this cautious motive, he approached the looking-gla.s.s, and surveyed himself critically.
”I doubt I might be the better,” it occurred to him, ”if I brushed my hair, and smelt a little of perfume. Yes. I'll make a toilet. Where's the boy's bedroom, I wonder?”
He observed a second door in the sitting-room, and opened it at hazard.
Fortune had befriended him, so far: he found himself in his young friend's bedchamber.
The toilet of Amelius, simple as it was, had its mysteries for Rufus.
He was at a loss among the perfumes. They were all contained in a modest little dressing case, without labels of any sort to describe the contents of the pots and bottles. He examined them one after another, and stopped at some recently invented French shaving-cream. ”It smells lovely,” he said, a.s.suming it to be some rare pomatum. ”Just what I want, it seems, for my head.” He rubbed the shaving cream into his bristly iron-gray hair, until his arms ached. When he had next sprinkled his handkerchief and himself profusely, first with rose water, and then (to make quite sure) with eau-de-cologne used as a climax, he felt that he was in a position to appeal agreeably to the senses of the softer s.e.x. In five minutes more, he was on his way to Mr. Farnaby's private residence.
CHAPTER 2
The rain that had begun with the morning still poured on steadily in the afternoon. After one look out of the window, Regina decided on pa.s.sing the rest of the day luxuriously, in the company of a novel, by her own fireside. With her feet on the tender, and her head on the soft cus.h.i.+on of her favourite easy-chair, she opened the book. Having read the first chapter and part of the second, she was just lazily turning over the leaves in search of a love scene, when her languid interest in the novel was suddenly diverted to an incident in real life. The sitting-room door was gently opened, and her maid appeared in a state of modest confusion.
”If you please, miss, here's a strange gentleman who comes from Mr.
Goldenheart. He wishes particularly to say--”
She paused, and looked behind her. A faint and curious smell of mingled soap and scent entered the room, followed closely by a tall, calm, shabbily-dressed man, who laid a wiry yellow hand on the maid's shoulder, and stopped her effectually before she could say a word more.
”Don't you think of troubling yourself to git through with it, my dear; I'm here, and I'll finish for you.” Addressing the maid in these encouraging terms, the stranger advanced to Regina, and actually attempted to shake hands with her! Regina rose--and looked at him.
It was a look that ought to have daunted the boldest man living; it produced no sort of effect on _this_ man. He still held out his hand; his lean face broadened with a pleasant smile. ”My name is Rufus Dingwell,” he said. ”I come from Coolspring, Ma.s.s.; and Amelius is my introduction to yourself and family.”
Regina silently acknowledged this information by a frigid bow, and addressed herself to the maid, waiting at the door: ”Don't leave the room, Phoebe.”
Rufus, inwardly wondering what Phoebe was wanted for, proceeded to express the cordial sentiments proper to the occasion. ”I have heard about you, miss; and I take pleasure in making your acquaintance.”
The unwritten laws of politeness obliged Regina to say something. ”I have not heard Mr. Goldenheart mention your name,” she remarked. ”Are you an old friend of his?”
Rufus explained with genial alacrity. ”We crossed the Pond together, miss. I like the boy; he's bright and spry; he refreshes me--he does. We go ahead with most things in my country; and friends.h.i.+p's one of them.
How _do_ you find yourself? Won't you shake hands?” He took her hand, without waiting to be repelled this time, and shook it with the heartiest good-will.
Regina shuddered faintly: she summoned a.s.sistance in case of further familiarity. ”Phoebe, tell my aunt.”
Rufus added a message on his own account. ”And say this, my dear. I sincerely desire to make the acquaintance of Miss Regina's aunt, and any other members of the family circle.”
Phoebe left the room, smiling. Such an amusing visitor as this was a rare person in Mr. Farnaby's house. Rufus looked after her, with unconcealed approval. The maid appeared to be more to his taste than the mistress. ”Well, that's a pretty creature, I do declare,” he said to Regina. ”Reminds me of our American girls--slim in the waist, and carries her head nicely. How old may she be, now?”
Regina expressed her opinion of this familiar question by pointing, with silent dignity, to a chair.
”Thank you, miss; not that one,” said Rufus. ”You see, I'm long in the legs, and if I once got down as low as that, I reckon I should have to restore the balance by putting my feet up on the grate; and that's not manners in Great Britain--and quite right too.”
He picked out the highest chair he could find, and admired the workmans.h.i.+p as he drew it up to the fireplace. ”Most sumptuous and elegant,” he said. ”The style of the Re_nay_sance, as they call it.”
Regina observed with dismay that he had not got his hat in his hand like other visitors. He had left it no doubt in the hall; he looked as if he had dropped in to spend the day, and stay to dinner.
”Well, miss, I've seen your photograph,” he resumed; ”and I don't much approve of it, now I see You. My sentiments are not altogether favourable to that art. I delivered a lecture on photographic portraiture at Coolspring; and I described it briefly as justice without mercy. The audience took the idea; they larfed, they did. Larfin'
reminds me of Amelius. Do you object to his being a Christian Socialist, miss?”
The young lady's look, when she answered the question, was not lost on Rufus. He registered it, mentally, in case of need. ”Amelius will soon get over all that nonsense,” she said, ”when he has been a little longer in London.”