Part 21 (2/2)

He wouldn't nevertheless be turned from his grievance. That mode of reparation to a person whom you had insulted which consisted in forgetting you had done so was doubtless largely in use on back piazzas; but a creature of any spirit required a different form. ”What did you mean last night by accusing me of having come down here to watch you?

Pardon me if I tell you I think you grossly rude.” The sting of the imputation lay in the fact that there was a certain amount of truth in it; yet for a moment Mrs. Headway, looking very blank, failed to recover it. ”She's a barbarian, after all,” thought Waterville. ”She thinks a woman may slap a man's face and run away!”

”Oh,” she cried suddenly, ”I remember-I was angry with you! I didn't expect to see you. But I didn't really mind about it at all. Every now and then I get mad like that and work it off on any one that's handy.

But it's over in three minutes and I never think of it again. I confess I was mad last night; I could have shot the old woman.”

”'The old woman'?”

”Sir Arthur's mother. She has no business here anyway. In this country when the husband dies they're expected to clear out. She has a house of her own ten miles from here and another in Portman Square; so she ain't in want of good locations. But she sticks-she sticks to him like a strong plaster. It came over me as I kind of a.n.a.lysed that she didn't invite me here because she liked me, but because she suspects me. She's afraid we'll make a match and she thinks I ain't good enough for her son.

She must think I'm in a great hurry to make him mine. I never went after him, he came after me. I should never have thought of anything if it hadn't been for him. He began it last summer at Homburg; he wanted to know why I didn't come to England; he told me I should have great success. He doesn't know much about it anyway; he hasn't got much gumption. But he's a very nice man all the same; it's very pleasant to see him surrounded by his-” And Mrs. Headway paused a moment, her appreciation ranging: ”Surrounded by all his old heirlooms. I like the old place,” she went on; ”it's beautifully mounted; I'm quite satisfied with what I've seen. I thought Lady Demesne well-impressed; she left a card on me in London and very soon after wrote to me to ask me here. But I'm very quick; I sometimes see things in a flash. I saw something yesterday when she came to speak to me at dinner-time. She saw I looked pretty and refined, and it made her blue with rage; she hoped I'd be some sort of a horror. I'd like very much to oblige her, but what can one do?

Then I saw she had asked me only because he insisted. He didn't come to see me when I first arrived-he never came near me for ten days. She managed to prevent him; she got him to make some promise. But he changed his mind after a little, and then he had to do something really polite.

He called three days in succession, and he made her come. She's one of those women who holds out as long as she can and then seems to give in while she's really fussing more than ever. She hates me as if I knew something about her-when I don't even know what she thinks I've done myself. She's very underhand; she's a regular old cat. When I saw you last night at dinner I thought she had got you here to help her.”

”To help her?” Waterville echoed.

”To tell her about me. To give her information she can make use of against me. You may give her all you like!”

Waterville was almost breathless with the attention he had paid this extraordinary burst of confidence, and now he really felt faint. He stopped short; Mrs. Headway went on a few steps and then, stopping too, turned and shone at him in the glow of her egotism. ”You're the most unspeakable woman!” he wailed. She seemed to him indeed a barbarian.

She laughed at him-he felt she was laughing at his expression of face-and her laugh rang through the stately gardens. ”What sort of a woman's that?”

”You've got no delicacy”-he'd keep it up.

She coloured quickly, though, strange to say, without further irritation.

”No delicacy?”

”You ought to keep those things to yourself.”

”Oh I know what you mean; I talk about everything. When I'm excited I've got to talk. But I must do things in my own way. I've got plenty of delicacy when people are nice to me. Ask Arthur Demesne if I ain't delicate-ask George Littlemore if I ain't. Don't stand there all day; come on to lunch!” And Mrs. Headway resumed her walk while her companion, having balanced, slowly overtook her. ”Wait till I get settled; then I'll be delicate,” she pursued. ”You can't be delicate when you're trying to save your life. It's very well for _you_ to talk, with the whole State Department to back you. Of course I'm excited.

I've got right hold of this thing, and I don't mean to let go!” Before they reached the house she let him know why he had been invited to Longlands at the same time as herself. Waterville would have liked to believe his personal attractions sufficiently explained the fact, but she took no account of this supposition. Mrs. Headway preferred to see herself in an element of ingenious machination, where everything that happened referred to her and was aimed at her. Waterville had been asked then because he represented, however modestly, the American Legation, and their host had a friendly desire to make it appear that his pretty American visitor, of whom no one knew anything, was under the protection of that establishment. ”It would start me better,” the lady in question complacently set forth. ”You can't help yourself-you've helped to start me. If he had known the Minister he'd have asked him-or the first secretary. But he don't know them.”

They reached the house by the time she had developed her idea, which gave Waterville a pretext more than sufficient for detaining her in the portico. ”Do you mean to say Sir Arthur has told you this?” he inquired almost sternly.

”Told me? Of course not! Do you suppose I'd let him take the tone with me that I need any favours? I'd like to hear him tell me I'm in want of a.s.sistance!”

”I don't see why he shouldn't-at the pace you go yourself. You say it to every one.”

”To every one? I say it to you and to George Littlemore-when I get nervous. I say it to you because I like you, and to him because I'm afraid of him. I'm not in the least afraid of you, by the way. I'm all alone-I haven't got any one. I must have some comfort, mustn't I? Sir Arthur scolded me for putting you off last night-he noticed it; and that was what made me guess his idea.”

”I'm much obliged to him,” said Waterville rather bewildered.

”So mind you answer for me. Don't you want me to take your arm to go in?”

”You're a most extraordinary combination!” he gave to all the winds as she stood smiling at him.

”Oh come, don't _you_ fall in love with me!” she cried with a laugh; and, without taking his arm, she pa.s.sed in before him.

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