Part 24 (1/2)
Then ensues a pause. Somehow every one has stopped talking, and Lady Chetwoode has set down the teapot and turned to Lilian with an air full of expectancy. They all feel that something yet remains to be said.
Possessed with this idea, and seeing Lilian's hesitation, Lady Chetwoode says, in her gentlest tones:
”Well, dear?”
”He is unhappy,” says Lilian, running one of her fingers up and down the table-cloth and growing more and more embarra.s.sed: ”every year he used to come to the Park for his holidays, and now----”
”And now he cannot go to the Park: is that it?”
”Yes. A little while ago he joined his regiment, and now he has leave of absence, and he has nowhere to spend it except at Colonel Graham's, who is his guardian and his uncle, and he _hates_ Colonel Graham,” says Lilian, impressively, looking at Lady Chetwoode with appealing eyes.
”Poor boy,” says that kindest of women, ”I do not like to hear of his being unhappy. Perhaps, Lilian, you would wish----”
”I want you to ask him here,” says Lilian, quickly and boldly, coloring furiously, and fixing her great honest eyes on Lady Chetwoode. ”He said nothing about it, but I know he would like to be where I am.”
”My dear, of course,” says Lady Chetwoode, with most unusual briskness for her, ”ask him instantly to come here as _soon_ as you like, to stay as _long_ as you like.”
”Auntie Nannie,” says Lilian, rising tumultuously from her chair, ”you are the dearest, kindest, best of women!” She presses her lips gently, although rapturously, to her auntie's cheek, after which she returns to her seat. ”Now I am thoroughly content,” she says naively: ”I could not bear to picture Taffy wretched, and that old Colonel Graham is a downright Tartar!”
”'Taffy'! what an extraordinary name!” says Florence. ”Is it a fancy name?”
”No; it is, I am ashamed to say, a nickname. I believe he was christened James, but one day when we were both almost babies he stole from me my best doll and squeezed the eyes out of it to see what lay behind, and I was very angry, and said he was a regular 'Taffy' to do such a thing.
You know the old rhyme?” turning to Lady Chetwoode with a blush and a light laugh:
”Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to my house And stole a piece of beef.
There is a good deal more of it, quite as interesting, but of course you know it. Nurse laughed when I so christened him, and after that he was always called 'Master Taffy' by the servants, and nothing else.”
”How nicknames do cling to one!”
”I don't believe I should know him by any other now. It suits him much better than his own, as he doesn't look the least in the world like a James.”
”How old is your cousin?” asks Florence, with an eye to business.
”A year older than I am.”
”And that is----”
”Nineteen.”
”Indeed! I should have thought you older than that.”
”He is very like me, and he is a dragoon!” says Lilian, proudly. ”But I have never seen him since he was gazetted.”
”Then you have not seen him in his uniform?” says Guy.
”No. But he tells me,” glancing at her letter, ”he looks 'uncommonly jolly' in it.”
They all laugh. Even Florence condescends to be amused.