Part 24 (1/2)

'Indeed!' And here Max looked a little perplexed. 'I thought you told me, Miss Darrell, that your cousin found our service too long and wearisome, and this was the reason she stayed away.'

'Oh no; you must have misunderstood me,' returned Miss Darrell, flus.h.i.+ng a little. 'Gladys may have said she liked a shorter sermon in the evening, but that was hardly her reason for staying away; at least--'

'Of course not. What nonsense you talk, Etta!' observed Mr. Hamilton impatiently. 'You know what a trouble I had to coax Gladys to stay at home; she was rather obstinate about it,--as girls are,--but I asked her as a special favour to myself to remain.'

Max's face cleared up surprisingly, and as Miss Hamilton at that moment re-entered the room, he accosted her almost eagerly.

'Miss Hamilton, we have been talking about you in your absence; your brother and I have been agreeing that it is really a great pity that you should have given up all your parish duties; it is a little hard on us all, is it not, Tudor? Your brother declares occupation will do you good.

Now, I am sure your cousin will not have the slightest objection to give up your old cla.s.s, and she can take Miss Matthews's, and then I shall have two good workers instead of one.'

For an instant Miss Hamilton hesitated; her face relaxed, and she looked at Max a little wistfully; but Miss Darrell interposed in her sprightly way:

'Do as you like, Gladys dear. Mr. Cunliffe will be too glad of your help, I am sure, as he sees how much you wish it. We all think you are fretting after your old scholars; home duties are not exciting enough, and even Giles notices how dull you are. Oh, you shall have my cla.s.s with pleasure; anything to see you happy, love. Shall we make the exchange to-morrow?'

'No, thank you, Etta; I think things had better be as they are.' And Miss Hamilton walked away proudly, and spoke to Mr. Tudor; the sudden brightness in her face had dimmed, and I was near enough to see that her hand trembled.

'There, you see,' observed Miss Darrell complacently. 'I have done my best to persuade her in public and private to amuse herself and not give way to her feelings of la.s.situde. ”Do a little, but not much,” I have often said to her; but with Gladys it must be all or none.'

'Ursula, do you know how late it is?' asked Max, coming up to me. He looked suddenly very tired, and I saw at once that he wished me to go: so I made my adieux as quickly as possible, and in a few minutes we had left the house, accompanied by Mr. Tudor.

Uncle Max was very quiet all the way home. I had expected him to be full of questions as to how I had enjoyed my evening, but his only remark was to ask if I were very tired, and then he left me to Mr. Tudor.

'Well, how do you like the folks up at Gladwyn?' demanded Mr. Tudor.

'Lady Betty was not in the best of humours to-night, and hardly deigned to speak to me; but I am sure you must have admired Miss Hamilton.'

'I like both of them,' was my temperate reply: 'you must not be hard on poor little Lady Betty. Miss Darrell had been lecturing her, and that made her cross.'

'So I supposed,' was the prompt answer. 'Well, what did you think of the Dare-all,--as the vicar calls her sometimes? is she not like a pleasant edition of Tupper's _Proverbial Philosophy_,--verbose and full of long sentences? How many words did she coin to-night, do you think?'

There was a little scorn in the young man's voice. Miss Darrell was evidently not a favourite in the vicarage, yet most people would have called her elegant and well-mannered, and, if she had no beauty, she was not bad-looking. She was so exceedingly well made up, and her style of dress was so suitable to her face, that I was not surprised to hear afterwards from Lady Betty that many people thought her cousin Etta handsome. Now when Mr. Tudor made this spiteful little speech I felt rather pleased, for my dislike to Miss Darrell had increased rather than diminished by the evening's experiences; under her smooth speeches there lurked an antagonistic spirit; something had prejudiced her against me even at our first meeting; I was convinced that she did not like me, and would not encourage my visit to Gladwyn. Mr. Tudor and I talked a good deal about Lady Betty; he described her as most whimsical and sound-hearted, half-child and half-woman, with a touch of the brownie; her brother often called her Brownie, or little Nix, to tease her. She was very fond of her sister, he went on to say, but there was not much companions.h.i.+p between them. Miss Hamilton was very intellectual, and read a good deal, and Lady Betty never read anything but novels; they all made a pet of her,--even Mr. Hamilton, who was not much given to pets,--but she was hardly an influence in the house.

'She has not backbone enough,' he finished, 'and the Dare-all rules them all with a rod of iron--”cased in velvet.”'

Uncle Max listened to all this in silence, and as they parted with me at the gate of the White Cottage he only said 'Good-night, Ursula,' in a depressed voice. He was evidently rather cast down about something; perhaps Miss Hamilton's decision had disappointed him; she had been his favourite worker, and had helped him greatly; he seemed to feel it hard that she should withdraw her services so suddenly. How wistfully she had looked at him as he pleaded with her! it was the first time I had seen her look at him of her own accord, and yet she had denied his request,--very firmly and gently.

'I must be friends with her, and then perhaps she will tell me all about it some day,' I thought; for I was convinced that there was more than met the eye; but it was some time before I could banish these perplexing thoughts.

I saw a good deal of Lady Betty during the next week or two. I met her frequently on my way to the Lockes', and she would walk with me to the gate, and two or three times she made her appearance at the Marshall's'; 'for it's no use calling at the White Cottage of an afternoon,' she would say disconsolately, 'for you are never at home, you inhospitable creature.'

'Why, do you think I live here, Lady Betty!' I returned, smiling. 'Do you know I am becoming a most punctual person? I am always back at the White Cottage by five, and sometimes a little earlier, and I shall always be pleased if you will come in and have tea with me.'

'I should like it of all things,' replied Lady Betty, with a sigh; 'and I will come sometimes, you will see if I don't. But I know Etta will make a fuss; she always does if I stay out after dark; and it is dark at four now. That is why I pop in here to see you, because Etta is always busy in the mornings and never takes any notice of what we do.'

'But surely Miss Darrell will not object to your coming to see me?' I asked, somewhat piqued at this.

'Oh dear, no,' returned Lady Betty, jumbling her words as though she found my question embarra.s.sing. 'Etta never objects openly to anything we do, only she throws stumbling-blocks in our way. I do not know why I have got it into my head that she would not like Gladys or me to come here without her, but it is there all the same,--the idea, I mean; it was something she said the other night to Mrs. Maberley that gave me this impression. Mrs. Maberley wanted to call on you, because she said you were Mr. Cunliffe's niece, and people ought to take notice of you. And Etta said, ”Oh dear, yes; and it was a very kind thought on Mrs.

Maberley's part, and Mr. Cunliffe would think it so. That was why Giles had invited you to Gladwyn. But there was no hurry, and you evidently were not prepared to enter into society. You had rather strong-minded views on this subject, and she was not quite sure whether Giles was wise to encourage the intimacy with his sisters.”'

'Miss Darrell said this to Mrs. Maberley?'

'Yes. Was it not horrid of Etta? I felt so cross. And Mrs. Maberley is such an old dear: only rather old-fas.h.i.+oned in her notions about girls.