Part 14 (2/2)
”Gordon, please go at once,” said his wife.
My hands were released, the blue eyes of Major Grayson looked full into mine. Certainly father's eyes were the most wonderful in all the world.
They seemed to me to hold within their depths a mixture of every sort of emotion, of fun, of reluctant, half ashamed, half pleased, half boyish penitence, of sorrow, of a pathos which was always there and always half hidden, and also of a queer and indescribable n.o.bility, which, notwithstanding the fact that I had not seen him for years, and notwithstanding the other fact that he had married a worldly woman when he might have made me so happy, seemed to have grown and strengthened on his face. He kissed one of his hands to me, raised Lady Helen's jewelled hand to his lips, bowed to her, smiled, and departed.
”He has charming manners,” she said, and then she turned to me.
”Bring me food, child,” she said; ”I want you to wait on me to-day; I am tired; we had a very rough crossing. To-morrow I shall take you in hand, but you are tremendously improved already. Yes, your father has delightful manners--we shall win through yet; but it will be a battle.”
”What do you mean by 'winning through'?” I asked.
”Nothing that you need interfere about,” she answered, a little sharply; ”only listen to me once for all. I am not Lady Helen Dalrymple for nothing, and when I stoop to conquer I do conquer. Now then, fetch me the cake basket; I am ravenously hungry and have a pa.s.sion for chocolate.”
I gave her what she required, and she ate without looking at me, her sharp eyes wandering round and round the room.
”Why, how hideous!” she suddenly exclaimed. ”How more than wrong of Clarkson! I gave orders that the curtains in this room were to be rose-pink; those dull blue abominations must come down; we won't have them--they'd try anyone's complexion. Child, for goodness' sake don't stare! And yet, come and let me look at you. That blue dress suits you; but then you are young, and you have a complexion for blue.”
She patted my hand for a minute, then she yawned profoundly.
”I am glad to be home,” she said. ”A honeymoon when you are no longer young is fatiguing, to say the least of it, and I am sick of hotel life. I have already sent out my 'At Home' invitations, and for the next few days the house will be crammed every afternoon. You will have to be present--why, of course, you will--don't knit your brows together like that. I mean to be a good stepmother to you, Heather. Ah, here comes Gordon. Gordon, you look very presentable now. Sit close to me on this sofa, and let Heather give you some tea. It's nice to have one's own girl to wait on one, isn't it?”
”Profoundly nice,” said the Major; ”exquisitely nice. To think that we have a child of our very own, Helen!”
”I don't think about it,” replied Lady Helen. ”It isn't my custom to wear myself out going into raptures, but, Gordon, I am very seriously displeased about those curtains.”
”Curtains, dear--what ails them? I see nothing wrong in them.”
”But I do. I told Clarkson's people rose-colour, soft rose-colour, and they sent blue--I will never get anything at Clarkson's again.”
”They must be changed, sweetest one,” replied my father.
I was giving him a cup of tea just then, and my hand shook. My stepmother noticed this; she said, in a sharp voice:
”Heather, get me a fan; that fire will spoil my complexion.”
I fetched her one. She held it between herself and the fire.
”By the way, Gordon,” she said suddenly, ”we had better tell the child now.”
”Oh, what?” I asked in some astonishment and also alarm.
”Really, Heather, you need not give way to such undue excitement. A year of my training will completely change you. I only wished to mention the fact that your name is no longer Grayson; in future you are Heather Dalrymple. Your father and I have agreed that you both take my name; that is a thing often done when there is a question of money. I hold the purse strings. I am a very generous person as regards money; Major, dear, you can testify to that.”
”I can, Helen. There never was your like, you are wonderful.”
”You therefore are little Heather Dalrymple in future,” continued my stepmother, ”and your father and I are Major and Lady Helen Dalrymple.
It's done, child, it's settled; the lawyers have arranged it all.
Grayson is a frightful name; you ought to be truly thankful that it is in my power to change it for you. You need not even wait for your marriage; the change takes place at once.”
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