Part 32 (2/2)

John Ball was courteous to her, but he was very silent throughout the whole evening. Her aunt showed her displeasure by not speaking to her, or speaking barely with a word. Her uncle, of whose voice she was always in fear, seemed to be more cross, and when he did speak, more sarcastic than ever. He asked her whether she intended to go back to Littlebath.

”I think not,” said she.

”Then that has been a failure, I suppose,” said the old man.

”Everything is a failure, I think,” said she, with tears in her eyes.

This was in the drawing-room, and immediately her cousin John came and sat by her. He came and sat there, as though he had intended to speak to her; but he went away again in a minute or two without having uttered a word. Things went on in the same way till they moved off to bed, and then the formal adieus for the night were made with a coldness that amounted, on the part of Lady Ball, almost to inhospitality.

”Good-night, Margaret,” she said, as she just put out the tip of her finger.

”Good-night, my dear,” said Sir John. ”I don't know what's the matter with you, but you look as though you'd been doing something that you were ashamed of.”

Lady Ball was altogether injudicious in her treatment of her niece.

As to Sir John, it made probably very little difference. Miss Mackenzie had perceived, when she first came to the Cedars, that he was a cross old man, and that he had to be endured as such by any one who chose to go into that house. But she had depended on Lady Ball for kindness of manner, and had been tempted to repeat her visits to the house because her aunt had, after her fas.h.i.+on, been gracious to her. But now there was rising in her breast a feeling that she had better leave the Cedars as soon as she could shake the dust off her feet, and see nothing more of the b.a.l.l.s. Even the Rubb connection seemed to her to be better than the Ball connection, and less exaggerated in its greediness. Were it not for her cousin John, she would have resolved to go on the morrow. She would have faced the indignation of her aunt, and the cutting taunts of her uncle, and have taken herself off at once to some lodging in London. But John Ball had meant to be kind to her when he came and sat close to her on the sofa, and her soft heart relented towards him.

Lady Ball had in truth mistaken her niece's character. She had found her to be un.o.btrusive, gentle, and unselfish; and had conceived that she must therefore be weak and compliant. As to many things she was compliant, and as to some things she was weak; but there was in her composition a power of resistance and self-sustenance on which Lady Ball had not counted. When conscious of absolute ill-usage, she could fight well, and would not bow her neck to any Mrs Stumfold or to any Lady Ball.

CHAPTER XVII

Mr Slow's Chambers

She came down late to breakfast on the following morning, not being present at prayers, and when she came down she wore a bonnet.

”I got myself ready, John, for fear I should keep you waiting.”

Her aunt spoke to her somewhat more graciously than on the preceding evening, and accepted her apology for being late.

Just as she was about to start Lady Ball took her apart and spoke one word to her.

”No one can tell you better what you ought to do than your cousin John; but pray remember that he is far too generous to say a word for himself.”

Margaret made no answer, and then she and her cousin started on foot across the grounds to the station. The distance was nearly a mile, and during the walk no word was said between them about the money.

They got into the train that was to take them up to London, and sat opposite to each other. It happened that there was no pa.s.senger in either of the seats next to him or her, so that there was ample opportunity for them to hold a private conversation; but Mr Ball said nothing to her, and she, not knowing how to begin, said nothing to him. In this way they reached the London station at Waterloo Bridge, and then he asked her what she proposed to do next.

”Shall we go to Mr Slow's at once?” she asked.

To this he a.s.sented, and at her proposition they agreed to walk to the lawyer's chambers. These were on the north side of Lincoln's Inn Fields, near the Turnstile, and Mr Ball remarked that the distance was again not much above a mile. So they crossed the Strand together, and made their way by narrow streets into Drury Lane, and then under a certain archway into Lincoln's Inn Fields. To Miss Mackenzie, who felt that something ought to be said, the distance and time occupied seemed to be very short.

”Why, this is Lincoln's Inn Fields!” she exclaimed, as she came out upon the west side.

”Yes; this is Lincoln's Inn Fields, and Mr Slow's chambers are over there.”

She knew very well where Mr Slow's chambers were situated, but she paused on the pavement, not wis.h.i.+ng to go thither quite at once.

”John,” she said, ”I thought that perhaps we might have talked over all this before we saw Mr Slow.”

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