Part 31 (1/2)

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

DISCOVERIES.

This interview had an agitating and painful effect upon Lucy, though she could not tell why. It was not what she expected or feared--neither in one sense nor the other. He had neither distressed her by opposing her proceedings, nor accepted her beneficence towards the Contessa with levity and satisfaction, both of which dangers she had been prepared for. Instead, however, of agitating her by the reception he gave to her proposal, it was he who was agitated by something which in entire unconsciousness she had said. But what that could be Lucy could not divine. She had said nothing that could affect him personally so far as she knew. She went over every word of the conversation without being able to discover what could have had this effect. But she could find nothing, there was no clue anywhere that her unconscious mind could discover. She concluded finally with much compunction that it was the implied reproach that he had taken away all pleasure in what she did by opposing her, that had so disturbed her husband. He was so kind. He had not been able to bear even the possibility that his opposition had been a source of pain. ”I think I will never oppose you any more.” In an answering burst of generosity Lucy said to herself that she did not desire this; that she preferred that he should find fault and object when he disapproved, not consent to everything. But the reflection of the disturbance she had seen in her husband's countenance was in her mind all day; she could not shake it off; and he was so grave that every look she cast at him strengthened the impression. He did not approach the circle in which the Contessa sat all the evening, but stood apart, silent, taking little notice of anybody until Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter secured his ear, when Sir Tom, instead of his usual genial laugh at MTutor's solemnities, discharged little caustic criticisms which astonished his companion. Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter was going away next day, and he, too, was preoccupied. After that conversation with Sir Tom, he betook himself to Lucy, who was very silent too, and doing little for the entertainment of her guests. He made her sundry pretty speeches, such as are appropriate from a departing guest.

”Jock has made up his mind to stay behind,” he said. ”I am sorry, but I am not surprised. I shall lose a most agreeable travelling companion; but, perhaps, home influences are best for the young.”

”I don't know why Jock has changed his mind, Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter. He wanted very much to go.”

”He would say that here's metal more attractive,” said the tutor with an offended smile; and then he paused, and, clearing his throat, asked in a still more evident tone of offence--”Does not your young friend the Signorina appear again? I thought from her appearance last night that she was making her _debut_.”

”Yes, it was like it,” said Lucy. ”The Contessa is not like one of us,”

she added after a moment. ”She has her own ways--and, perhaps, I don't know--that may be the Italian fas.h.i.+on.”

”Not at all,” Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter said promptly. He was an authority upon national usages. ”But I am afraid it was very transparent what the Contessa meant,” he said, after a pause.

To this Lucy made no reply, and the tutor, who was sensitive, especially as to bad taste, reddened at his inappropriate observation. He went on hastily; ”The Signorina--or should I say Mademoiselle di Forno-Populo?--has a great deal of charm. I do not know if she is so beautiful as her mother----”

”Oh, not her mother,” cried Lucy quickly, with a smile at the mistake.

”Is she not her mother? The young lady's face indeed is different. It is of a higher order--it is full of thought. It is n.o.ble in repose. She does not seem made for these scenes of festivity, if you will pardon me, Lady Randolph, but for the higher retirements----”

”Oh, she is very fond of seeing people,” said Lucy. ”You must not suppose she is too serious for her age. She enjoyed herself last night.”

”There is no age,” said Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter, ”at which one can be too serious--and especially in youth, when all the world is before one, when one cannot tell what effect a careless step may have one way or another.

It is just that sweet gravity that charms me. I think she was quite out of her element, excuse me for saying so, Lady Randolph, last night.”

”Do you think so? Oh, I am afraid not. I am afraid she liked it,” said Lucy. ”Jock, don't you think Bice liked it. I should much rather think not, but I am afraid--I am afraid----”

”She couldn't like that little cad,” said Jock, who had drawn near with an instinctive sense that something was going on which concerned him.

”But she's never solemn either,” added the boy.

”Is that for me, Jock?” said MTutor, with a pensive gentleness of reproach. ”Well, never mind. We must all put up with little misunderstandings from the younger generation. Some time or other you will judge differently. I should like to have had an opportunity again of such music as we heard last night; but I suppose I must not hope for it.”

”Oh, do you mean Lord Montjoie's song?” cried one of the young ladies in blue, who had drawn near. ”Wasn't it fun? Of course I know it wasn't to be compared to the Contessa; but I've no musical taste. I always confess it--that's Edith's line. But Lord Montjoie _was_ fun. Don't you think so, dear Lady Randolph,” Miss Minnie said.

Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter gave her one glance, and retired, Jock following.

”Perhaps that's your opinion too,” he said, ”that Lord Montjoie's was fun?”

”He's a scug,” said Jock, laconically, ”that's all I think about him.”

Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter took the lad's arm. ”And yet,” he said, ”Jock, though you and I consider ourselves his superiors, that is the fellow that will carry off the prize. Beauty and genius are for him. He must have the best that humanity can produce. You ought to be too young to have any feeling on the subject; but it is a humiliating thought.”

”Bice will have nothing to say to him,” said Jock, with straightforward application of the abstract description; but MTutor shook his head.

”How can we tell the persecutions to which Woman is subject?” he said.

”You and I, Jock, are in a very different position. But we should try to realise, though it is difficult, those dangers to which she is subject.

Kept indoors,” said MTutor, with pathos in his voice, ”debarred from all knowledge of the world, with all the authorities about her leading one way. How can we tell what is said to her? with a host of petty maxims preaching down a daughter's heart--strange!” cried Mr. Derwent.w.a.ter, with a closer pressure of the boy's arm, ”that the most lovely existence should thus continually be led to link itself with the basest. We must not blame Woman; we must keep her idea sacred, whatever happens in our own experience.”

”It always sets one right to talk to you,” cried Jock, full of emotion.