Part 40 (2/2)
”How can you say so, Janet?” he involuntarily exclaimed.
”Should she launch into some of her favourite topics, her horses and her dogs, it will sound unfeminine to Mrs. Briscow's ears. In her young days--in _my_ days also, George, for the matter of that--these subjects were deemed more suitable to men's lips than to young women's. George, had your mother lived, it would have been a sore day to her, the one that brought the news that you had fixed your mind on Charlotte Pain.”
”It was not so to my father, at any rate,” George could not help saying.
”And was it possible that you did not see how Charlotte Pain played her cards before your father?” resumed Janet. ”Not a word, that could offend his prejudices as a refined gentleman, did she ever suffer herself to utter. I saw; if you did not.”
”You manage to see a great deal that the rest of us don't see, Janet. Or you fancy that you do.”
”It is no fancy, lad. I would not like to discourage a thing that you have set your heart upon; I would rather go a mile out of my way than do it: but I stand next door to a mother to you, and I can but warn you that you will repent it, if you ever suffer Charlotte Pain to be more to you than she now is.”
George rose. ”Set your mind at rest, Janet. It has never been my intention to marry Charlotte Pain: and--so far as I believe at present--it never will be.”
The dinner went off pleasantly. Mrs. Briscow was a charming old lady, although she was of the ”antediluvian” school, and Charlotte was on her best behaviour, and half fascinated Mrs. Briscow. George, like a trespa.s.sing child, received several hints from Janet that bed might be desirable for him, but he ingeniously ignored them, and sat on.
Charlotte's bonnet and an attendant arrived, and Thomas G.o.dolphin put on his hat to see her to the Folly.
”I need not trouble you, Mr. G.o.dolphin. I shall not be run away with.”
”I think it will be as well that I should see you do not,” said he, smiling.
It was scarcely dark. The clock had not struck ten, and the night was starlight. Thomas G.o.dolphin gave her his arm, and the maid walked behind them. Arrived at Ashlydyat, he left her. Charlotte stood for a few moments, then turned on her heel and entered the hall. The first thing that caught her notice was a hat; next a travelling coat. They had not been there when she left in the afternoon.
”Then Verrall's back!” she mentally exclaimed.
Hastening into the dining-room, she saw, seated at a table, drinking brandy and water, not Mr. Verrall, but Rodolf Pain.
”Good gracious!” exclaimed Charlotte, with more surprise in her tone than satisfaction, ”have _you_ come?”
”Come to find an empty house,” rejoined Mr. Pain. ”Where's Mrs. Verrall?
They tell me she is gone to London.”
”She is,” replied Charlotte. ”Verrall neither came back nor wrote; she had a restless fit upon her, and started off this morning to him.”
”Verrall won't thank her,” observed Mr. Pain. ”He is up to his eyes in business.”
”Good or bad business?” asked Charlotte.
”Both. We have got into a mess, and Verrall's not yet out of it.”
”Through what? Through whom?” she questioned.
Rodolf Pain gave his shoulders a jerk, as if he had been a Frenchman.
”It need not trouble you, Charlotte.”
”Some one came down here from London a week ago; a Mr. Appleby. Is it through him? Verrall seemed strangely put out at his coming.”
Mr. Pain nodded his head. ”They were such idiots in the office as to give Appleby the address here. I have seen Verrall in a tolerable pa.s.sion once or twice in my life, but I never saw him in such a one as he went into when he came up. They'll not forget it in a hurry. He lays the blame on me, remotely; says I must have left a letter about with the address on it. I know I have done nothing of the sort.”
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