Part 34 (2/2)
”Are you angry with me for what happened up-stairs?” he asks, gently, after a pause spent in as earnest an examination of her as any she has bestowed upon him.
”Up-stairs?” says Lilian, with raised brows of inquiry and carefully studied ignorance.
”I mean my unfortunate _rencontre_ with you in Musgrave's room.”
”Oh, dear, no,” with clear denial. ”I seldom grow angry over _trifles_.
I have not thought of it since.” She utters her fib bravely, the truth being that all during dinner she has been consumed with shame.
”Have you not? _I_ have. I have been utterly miserable ever since you bestowed that terrible look upon me when your eyes first met mine. Won't you let me explain my presence there? I think if you do you will forgive me.”
”It was not your fault: there is nothing about which you need apologize,” says Lilian; but her tone is more cordial, and there is the faintest dimpling of a smile around her mobile lips.
”Nevertheless I hate myself in that I caused you a moment's uneasiness,”
says Mr. Chesney, that being the amiable word he employs for her ill-temper. ”I shall be discontented until I tell you the truth: so pray let me.”
”Then tell it,” says Lilian.
”I have a man, a perfect treasure, who can do all that man can possibly do, who is in fact faultless,--but for one small weakness.”
”And that is?”
”Like Mr. Stiggins, his vanity is--brandy hot. Now and then he drinks more of it than is good for him, though to do him justice not very often. Once in six months, regular as clockwork, he gets hopelessly drunk, and just now the time being up, he, of course, chose this particular day to make his half-yearly exhibition of himself, and having imbibed brandy _ad lib._, forgot to bring himself and my traps to Chetwoode in time for the first dressing-bell.”
”What a satisfactory sort of servant!”
”He is, very, when he is sober,--absolutely invaluable. And then his little mistakes occur so seldom. But I wish he had not chosen this night of all others in which to play me false. I don't know what I should have done had I not thrown myself upon Musgrave's mercy and borrowed his brushes and combs and implements of war generally. As it was, I had almost given up hope of being able to reach the drawing-room at all to-night, when just at the last moment my 'treasure' arrived with my things and--any amount of concealed spirits. Do I bore you with my explanation? It is very good of you to listen so patiently, but I should have been too unhappy had I been prevented from telling you all this.”
”I think, after all, it is I should explain my presence in that room,”
says Lilian, with a gay, irresistible laugh that causes Guy, who is at the other end of the room, to lift his head and regard her anxiously.
He is sitting near Florence, on a sofa (or rather, to speak more correctly, she is sitting near him), and is looking bored and _gene_.
Her laugh pains him unaccountably; glancing next at her companion he marks the still admiration in the dark face as it gazes into her fair one. Already--_already_--he is surely _empresse_.
”But the fact is,” Lilian is saying, ”I have always been in the habit of visiting Taffy's room before he has quite finished his dressing, to see if there be any little final touch required that I might give him. Did you meet him in London?”
”No; never saw him until a couple of hours ago. Very nice little fellow, I should say. Cousin of yours?”
”Yes: isn't he a pet?” says Lilian, eagerly, always glad to hear praise of her youthful plunger. ”There are very few like him. He is my nearest relative, and you can't think how I love that boy.”
”That boy is, I should say, older than you are.”
”Ye--es,” doubtfully, ”so he says: about a year, I think. Not that it matters,” says Miss Chesney, airily, ”as in reality I am any number of years older than he is. He is nothing but a big child, so I have to look after him.”
”You have, I supposed, const.i.tuted yourself his mother?” asks Archibald, intensely amused at her pretty a.s.sumption of maternity.
”Yes,” with a grave nod, ”or his elder sister, just as I feel it my duty at the moment to pet or scold him.”
”Happy Taffy!”
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