Part 39 (2/2)
The vision was now standing up and apparently disputing the bill, for it was evidently talking at great length to a man in livery, who had a slip of paper in his hand, and who occasionally pointed to it in a resentful manner and said something, whereupon the vision made negative gestures and there was much tossing and shaking of heads. Resolutely Braybrooke looked away. It was nothing to do with him even if the Ritz was trying to make an overcharge for plum cake.
”I just hinted that there must be men who--but you understand?”
Miss Van Tuyn smiled unembarra.s.sed a.s.sent.
”And then Miss Cronin”--he lowered his voice--”seemed thoroughly upset.
I scarcely knew what she thought I meant, but whatever it was I had not meant it. That is certain. But the fact is she is so devoted to you that the mere fact of your some day doing what all lovely and charming women are asked to do and usually consent to do--but--but Miss Cronin seems to--I think she wants to say something to you.”
Miss Van Tuyn looked suddenly rather rebellious. She did not glance towards the Philadelphia school friends, but turned her shoulder towards them and said:
”Naturally my marriage would make a great difference to f.a.n.n.y, but I have never known her to worry about it.”
”She is worrying now!” said poor Braybrooke, with earnest conviction.
”But really she--I am sure she wishes to speak to you.”
The line showed itself in Miss Van Tuyn's forehead.
”Will you be kind and just go and ask her what she wants? Please tell her that I am not coming back yet as I am going to call on Lady Sellingworth when I leave here.”
Braybrooke got up, trying to conceal his reluctance to obey. Miss Cronin, entrenched as it were behind her old school friend, and with dawnings of the dragon visible beneath her feathered hat, and even, strangely, mysteriously, underneath her long cloak of musquash, was endeavouring by signs and wonders to attract her Beryl's attention, while Mrs. Clem Hodson stood looking imperious, and ready for any action that would prove her solidarity with her old schoolmate.
”What she wants--and you are going to call on Lady Sellingworth!” said Braybrooke.
”Yes; and to-night I'm dining out.”
”Dining out to-night--just so.”
There was no further excuse for delay, and he went towards the two old ladies, a grievous amba.s.sador. It really had been the most unpleasant afternoon he remembered to have spent. He began to feel almost in fault, almost as if he had done--or at the least had contemplated doing--something outrageous, something for which he deserved the punishment which was now being meted out to him. As he slowly approached Miss Cronin he endeavoured resolutely to bear himself like a man who had not proposed that day for Miss Van Tuyn's hand. But preposterously, Miss Cronin's absurd misconception seemed to have power over his conscience, and that again over his appearance and gait. He was fully aware, as he went forward to convey Miss Van Tuyn's message, that he made a very poor show of it. In fact, he was just then living up to d.i.c.k's description of him as ”the beard with the gentleman.”
”Oh, Mr. Braybrooke,” said Miss Cronin as he came up, ”so you are here with Beryl!”
”Yes; so I am here with Miss Van Tuyn!”
Miss Cronin exchanged a glance with Mrs. Clem Hodson.
”You didn't tell me when you called that you were taking her out to tea!”
”No, I didn't!” said Braybrooke.
”This is my old schoolmate, Mrs. Clem Hodson. Suzanne, this is Mr.
Braybrooke, a friend of Beryl's.”
Mrs. Clem Hodson bowed from the waist, and looked at Braybrooke with the expression of one who knew a great deal more about him than his own mother knew.
”This hotel overcharges,” she said firmly.
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