Part 24 (1/2)

I remained in haughty silence. I feared I should burst into screams of laughter if I attempted speech.

Miss Springle had evaded us at the last minute, and could be seen once more by Mr. Dodd's side as we drove past the shooters again on the road.

A meek woman, sister of Mr. McCormack, a Mrs. Broun by name, who had quietly stood by her husband and had not been in any one's way, now caught Mrs. Dodd's wrath.

”You've had a good deal to do with Jessie Springle's bringing up, I've heard, Mrs. Broun, since her mother died, and a disgrace she is to you, I can testify.”

”Oh, dear Mrs. Dodd, how can you say such a thing?” said Mrs. Broun, almost crying. ”Jessie is a dear girl, so full of fun.”

”Fun, you call it, Mrs. Broun! Looking after other women's husbands!

How would you like her to be flirting with your Tom?”

(This is the spirit my mother-in-law would approve of.)

”Oh, it is quite immodest, talking so, Mrs. Dodd!” replied the meek lady, flus.h.i.+ng scarlet. ”Why, no one would ever think of such things--a girl to flirt with a married man!”

”That's all you know about it, Mrs. Broun. I tell you that girl will upset your home yet! Mark my words; but I'll not have her running after Wullie, anyway.”

The situation was becoming very strained. I felt bound to interfere by some _ba.n.a.l_ remarks about the scenery, and finally we arrived back at Ledstone and I got rid of them by conducting them to their rooms.

IX

It poured rain again before the sportsmen returned, and they were more or less wet and cross. Antony went straight to his room to change, and so did the two other decent men. But the commercial friends stayed as they were, muddy boots and all, and were grouped round the fire, smelling of wet, hot tweed, when Mrs. Dodd sailed into the room.

”Wullie,” she said, sternly, ”you've no more sense than a child, and if it was not for me you'd have been in your coffin these five years.

Go up-stairs this minute and change your boots.” And off she sent him, but not without a parting shot from Miss Springle.

”Mind you put on a blue velvet smoking-suit, Mr. Dodd, dear. I do love gentlemen in smoking-suits,” she said, giggling.

Tea was a terrible function. Oh, the difference to the merry tea at Harley!

Lady Wakely, sleepily knitting and addressing an occasional observation to her neighbor; the rest of the women silent as the grave, except Miss Springle and Mrs. Dodd, who sparred together like two cats.

The men could talk of nothing but the war news which had come by the afternoon post.

There was a gloom over the whole party. How on earth was I to escape from the oppression? They were not people of the world, who would be accustomed to each person doing what they pleased. They expected to be entertained all the time. To get away from them for a moment I would be obliged to invent some elaborate excuse.

Antony had not appeared upon the scene, or Augustus, either.

At last--at last Lady Wakely put her knitting in a bag and made a move towards the door.

”I shall rest now,” she said, in her fat, kind voice, and I accompanied her from the room, leaving the rest of my guests to take care of themselves. I felt I should throw the cups at their heads if I stayed any longer.

There, in the hall, was Antony, quietly reading the papers. His dark-blue and black silk smoking-suit was extraordinarily becoming. He looked like a person from another planet after the people I had left in the drawing-room.

He rose as we pa.s.sed him.

”Some very interesting South African news,” he said, addressing me, and while I stopped to answer him Lady Wakely went up the stairs alone.