Part 49 (1/2)
”Unreturned?--that must be a new experience for him: Gerard has every quality to attract a woman.”
”This one is infinitely too proud and too intelligent to waste a thought upon a married man.”
”It is a girl, then! How unlike Gerard's usual taste!”
”Yes--Mordryn, shall you open Valfreyne quite soon?”
”Immediately--I shall have a party for Whitsuntide, if you will honour me by acting hostess.”
”All right--if I may bring my _personnel_ with me--a large order! I can't stand the racket without Stirling and James and Harmon, my chauffeur--and Miss Bush.”
”All are perfectly welcome--especially Miss Bush. She appeared an extremely clever girl when I had the pleasure of talking to her.”
”Yes, she is a wonderful creature. I am thinking of marrying her off to Sir John Townly.”
The Duke leaned forward, his voice was quite shocked.
”How inhuman, Seraphim! John Townly must be sixty, at least.”
”My dear Mordryn, that is only seven years older than you are, and I look upon you as hardly yet at the prime of life--and beggars cannot be choosers, the girl is of no family. Neither for that matter is Sir John.
It will be suitable in every way----I suppose you will let me have a say as to the guests for the Whitsuntide outbreak, eh?”
”Naturally--but spare me any too overmodern widows, or any further breakers in of my sensibilities!”
Seraphim laughed, and they set about making the list.
But when the Duke had gone to dress, she looked long into the fire, something a little sentimental and yet satisfied in her gaze.
”Dear Mordryn--Gerard and the smoking-room caused him uneasiness; it would not have done for that to continue, because of the unpleasant reflection that G. is a married man. Sir John was splendid--but Mordryn is no fool. I must now really oppose him in every possible way----I am not sure if, after all, I shall take her to Valfreyne.”
And the Duke, as he dressed, said to himself that he did not understand women. Here was Seraphim, a creature with the kindest heart, yet so full of that distressingly feminine matchmaking instinct which was the curse of her s.e.x, that she was ready to pitchfork this charming, living, fascinating young person into the mouldering arms of old John Townly!
The idea was simply revolting to contemplate, even if beggars could not be choosers! And then suddenly he seemed to see the auctioneer father and the butcher grandfather and the home at Bindon's Green!
He walked down to dinner in a subdued mood.
CHAPTER XXVII
On Easter Sunday in church, Katherine sat in the overflow pew, and so could be looked at by those highly placed in the chancel seat of honour without the least turning of their heads. It was not surprising, then, that the Duke found the sermon a very good, and a very short one, as his thoughts ran on just as Gerard Strobridge's had done in that same church once before.
What a charming oval face the girl had--and how purely white was her skin! What was she thinking about with that inscrutable expression? The mouth was so firm and so was the chin. Full red lips, which were yet firm, were dangerous things. Her air was very distinguished and her garments showed great taste. The whole thing was incredible, of course; there must be some harking back to gentle blood. Not one of the party looked so like his ideal of a lady as she.
And she had spoken, too, of love! She had admitted that she knew of one side of it. What were her words, ”It makes one feel mad--agitated, unbalanced, animal, even motherly and protective,” but what it could be if it touched the soul she could not fathom----Well, the phase which she did know was not without its charm! What extraordinary, alluring eyes she had! Who could the fellow have been? Not a person from--er--Bindon's Green, of course; she must always have been too refined for that--and not Gerard. A woman who had once felt those emotions for a man did not look at him with that serene calm with which Miss Bush had looked at Gerard. What a most d.a.m.nably exasperating circ.u.mstance it was that she was not a guest--and that he could not spend the afternoon discussing love, and its aspects, while pacing that sunny walk in the walled garden, safe from the east wind!
How beautifully her hair grew! The brow was queenly. How well it would look with an all-round crown of diamonds surmounting it. Sir John would probably give her something of the sort. These rich parvenus--people with but a grandfather, perhaps--would buy some flashy modern thing!
That kind of head would do justice to family jewels. He knew of one particular crown which had belonged to a certain d.u.c.h.ess of early regency days, which was reposing now at Garrards, and which would be specially becoming. Italy--she had spoken of Italy, she had never been there; what a companion to take to Italy! She grasped the spirit of countries. How she had understood ”Eothen!”
But the people were rising--the sermon was over. Capital fellow, Woolman, his sermons were much shorter, though, than they used to be.