Part 37 (1/2)
CHAPTER XXIX
ACHING HEARTS AND LAUGHING FACES
The composition of the letter to Wivernsea needed all the powers Miss Chantrelle could bring to bear upon it. They were in no way of a mean order.
She did not, however, grudge time or labour; the expenditure was in a good cause: Percy had been on the matrimonial stocks too long; his was the kind of beauty which age withered rather than ripened.
A little sigh of content escaped her when, at last, she had finished writing. Leaning back in her chair, the end of the penholder between her lips, she read:
MY DEAREST MAB,--_Isn't_ it a tiny little world? Just fancy--my brother and I are coming back to England on the same boat your brother is travelling by! Dear old d.i.c.k! He looks so strong and well; better I think than I have _ever_ seen him look. With him is Mr. Masters--oh, of course, I ought to congratulate you, oughtn't I?--but I will leave that till I see you. It is a good job you are not of a jealous disposition, Mab, or I am afraid there would be a rough time ahead for you: Mr. Masters is such a _dreadful_ flirt! He has been most popular with all the ladies on board, and made _violent_ love to me within twenty-four hours of meeting me! He did not succeed in _my_ case, though (not because of you, my darling Mab, because I had not heard of your engagement to him then) but I do not like a man who makes love to every woman he meets; whom you run across in odd parts of the boat engrossed in conversation with some pretty girl, generally _a different one each time_. But there, I must not say anything against him, or you will never forgive me. Besides, if you don't mind it, what does it matter? Of course, there's no real harm in what he does--don't think I want to insinuate that, it is the last thing I mean--as the girls must know he is only flirting; perhaps his heart is with you all the time. How beautiful it must be to have such faith as yours--I am afraid I'm not gifted that way. You must be _very_ fond of him if all he says is true: that you dote on the ground he walks on, etc., etc., etc. Asked if the marriage day had been fixed, he replied that that only rested with himself! Fancy that; _Aren't_ the men growing dreadfully cheeky? Your brother has asked us to come down to Wivernsea for Christmas. I _never_ saw a man grow so awfully white as Percy did when he heard of your forthcoming marriage to Mr. Masters. Till then I had had no idea that he--but there, that would be telling tales out of school. We are coming to spend Christmas, _unless_, dear Mabel, you would rather we did not. If for that or _any reason_ you would rather we did not come just now, _wire_ to us, care of Charing Cross cloak room, when you get this. _We shall quite understand_ that it is not convenient just now. You know what a dear, impulsive boy d.i.c.k is; he _absolutely insists_ on our coming; says you will be _really_ pleased to see us. I do hope so, darling. I have a recollection of many, _many_ happy days spent with you.
With _all_ my love, Believe me, _dearest_ Mabel, Your _ever true_ friend, AMY.
As she folded the letter and directed its envelope she muttered:
”I think this puts a spoke in Prince Charlie's wheel! If I know anything of Mabel's pride, this won't ensure open arms and the warmest of welcomes for him.”
She hesitated a moment, then laughed; continued:
”There is no sc.r.a.p of fear of my letter ever being produced. Her pride would not allow her to do that, and she overruns with it.”
Amy Chantrelle was a clever woman; that fact has been recorded. In addition to knowing what to say and how to say it, she correctly foresaw just the effect it would produce. Her study of womankind was a very close one.
The letter sent to Wivernsea carried all its intended evil. The descent of a bombsh.e.l.l could not have had a more disturbing effect. After perusal of it, Mrs. Seton-Carr was simply furious. Amy had not relied on the widow's pride in vain. Moreover, her belief in the proverb was justified: throw enough mud, some of it sticks.
The letter was read over and over again. Each time an effort was made to disbelieve its contents, each time the bad impression became deeper: that there is no smoke without fire.
Laughter would have resulted at the impertinence of Masters' conduct, as detailed in the letter, if she had not cared for the man. That was the weak point.
Not a day pa.s.sed without her thoughts being full of him. The letter came as a blow; a blow of the severely hurting sort. Wounded pride is hard of healing: there is generally some poison in the wound; it is apt to spread too, and endanger the hurt.
By the same mail which brought the Chantrelle episode she received a letter from her brother d.i.c.k. It told her that he was coming down to Wivernsea to spend his Christmas; that Prince Charlie was coming too.
Apart from the pleasure of receiving a letter from him written with an unshaking hand and the natural joy she felt at his buoyant style of writing, what he said was a big annoyance to her.
His letter exuded praise of Masters in every sentence. It was easy to read between the lines that he looked upon himself as that gentleman's future brother-in-law. This to Mrs. Seton-Carr could only fit as a confirmation of her friend Amy's letter.
Pride and a readily aroused temper usually battle together with conspicuous success. Mabel worked herself up to such a pitch of excitement that she positively cried. To think that this man--she knew in her heart of hearts that she loved him--should have the effrontery to talk of her so!
Was it to be nothing but insult from him? Could she not--was it not possible to--pay him back somehow? What had she done that he should single her out for annoyance? Whatever it might be, when was she to feel herself free from his cowardly attacks?
If only he were open about the matter; but he was not. Then came remembrance of the time of Gracie's convalescence; how he had ever treated her with uniform courtesy. She remembered, and sighed. The crown of sorrow is the remembrance of happier days.
The inaudible feet of Time continued their never-ending progress. It was not a period in which Mrs. Seton-Carr was at ease; the amount of patience in which she possessed her soul could have been easily balanced on a needle point.
The steamer bringing the quartette reached England. The four pa.s.sengers kept together; travelled down to Wivernsea in the same carriage. Reached it early in Christmas week.
d.i.c.k's reluctance to allow Masters to go to his old lodgings was manifest. There were many spare rooms at Ivy Cottage, he said, so why not go there? In his opinion it was simply idiotic to pig in at digs.
But Masters had ideas of his own; at that moment they did not fit in with his friend's.