Part 36 (2/2)

No day pa.s.sed without a visit from the Kitten and although he was not wholly blind to the defects in her character, he was sure she was the ”peartest, sauciest, cleverest little baggage in the British Isles.”

Of course the fact that Eloquent had been asked to dine at the Manor House was much canva.s.sed in the village. Miss Gallup trumpeted the matter abroad, and naturally it was discussed exhaustively by what Mr Ffolliot would have called his ”retainers.”

Willets was not sure that he approved. ”I've no doubt,” he said leniently to Mrs Willets as they were sitting at tea, ”that he's a smart young chap and he's got on wonderfully, but I don't altogether trust that pus.h.i.+ng kind myself, and he's that sort. Why, I saw him, with my own eyes, walk past this house with our Miss Mary as bold as bra.s.s. I'll warrant if Squire had seen him he'd have been put out.”

”He was her partner at dinner last night,” Fusby was saying, ”and what's more,” here Mrs Willets lowered her voice mysteriously, ”he says as he looked at her that loving, he's sure he's after her.”

”After your grandmother!” Willets said rudely, his hawk's eyes bright with anger. ”As if Miss Mary would so much as look at him! Let him seek a mate in his own cla.s.s.”

”That's just what he won't do; Miss Gallup--she's that set-up and silly about him--says he must marry a lady, one who'll be able to help him now he's got so high up. I'm surprised, I own it, at Squire--but probably it was the Mistress, she's all for friendliness always. But I'll warrant they'd both be in a pretty takin' if they thought he was after Miss Mary.”

”I tell you he's nothing of the kind,” Willets shouted, thumping the table so violently that he hurt his hand. ”It's scandalous to say such things, and so I'll tell Fusby the first time I see him--gossiping old silly.”

”Now, William, it's no good going on against Fusby. He was as upset as you could be yourself, an' he only told me when he looked in this afternoon because he felt worried like. He wouldn't care a bit if it wasn't that she seems taken with 'im. He says he saw them whisperin'

at dinner, and young Gallup he give something to Miss Mary under the table. Fusby _saw_ them.”

”I don't believe it,” Willets said stoutly. ”It's all some foolishness Fusby's gone and made up. I don't hold with such cackle, and I'm surprised at you, my dear, allowing him to say such things.”

”How could I stop him? He was worried, I tell you. You talk to him about it yourself and see what he says.”

”I'm not going to talk about Miss Mary to anyone, let alone Fusby.

There's nothing but mischief happens when people begins talking about a young lady. I've seen it over and over again. If, which I can't believe, young Gallup's got the cheek to be after our Miss Mary, he'll be choked off, and pretty quick too.”

”Who's going to do the chokin'? He's in parlyment, he's got plenty money, there's nothing against him as I know of, and they've asked him to their house. Who's going to do the chokin?”

Mrs Willets paused, breathless and triumphant. She seemed to take a malicious delight in considering the possibility of such a courts.h.i.+p.

Willets looked at her steadily. ”We shan't have far to seek,” he said, ”and that old fool Fusby's got a maggot in his head. Why, the fellow's gone to London; Parliament meets to-morrow, I saw it in the paper.”

Mrs Willets nodded, as who should say ”I could an' I would”--aloud she remarked, ”And Miss Mary's going to London to her granpa for a long visit, beautiful new clothes she's gettin', and going to see the King and Queen and all, so they're certain to meet. It's quite like a story book.”

Willets frowned. He had once spent two days in London. He realised what a big place it was, but he also remembered that during those two days he had met seven people he knew in other parts of the country.

CHAPTER XXIV

CROSS CURRENTS

Reggie kept his word as to not interfering with Mary till such time as she should have seen a little more of the world. How much of the world in general, and the male portion of it in particular, he was willing she should see, he could not make up his mind. Sometimes he thought a very little would sufficiently salve his conscience and make a definite course of action possible. Reggie was not one of those who feared his fate. He was always eager to put it to the touch. Inaction was abhorrent to him. To desire a thing and to do nothing to obtain it seemed to him sheer foolishness. Whether any amount of effort would get for him what he desired just now was on the knees of the G.o.ds. But it was the waiting that tried him far more than the uncertainty. He was not conceited. He was confident, ready to take risks and to accept responsibility, but that is quite another thing.

Just before her birthday he sent her a little necklet under cover to Mrs Ffolliot, asking that it might be put with Mary's other presents on her plate that morning. And she had written to thank him for it, but he did not answer the letter. He had always been by way of writing to her from time to time; letters, generally embellished with comic sketches and full of chaff and nonsense, which were shared by the family. Lately he had not felt in the mood to write such letters. He wanted to see her with an unceasing ache of longing intense and persistent; and if he wrote he wanted to write, not a love letter--Reggie did not fancy he'd be much of a hand at love letters--but something intimate and revealing that would certainly be unsuitable for ”family reading.”

Then he got two letters from Redmarley that seemed to him to need an answer.

These were the letters:--

<script>