Part 26 (1/2)
”I'll tell you a secret!” she said, stopping her work to emphasise her words with uplifted finger. ”_No_ man can altogether engross a woman!
However good, and fine, and tender he may be, there's still a need within her that only a woman can fill. The happiest married woman needs a woman friend. The better the husband, the more she needs her. A good man is so aggravatingly free from littlenesses. He objects to grumbling; he makes the best of misfortunes; he refuses to repeat gossip; he has a tiresome habit of imagining that his wife means everything she says. If a woman is to endure a good husband with any resignation, she must have another woman near by with whom she can let herself go!”
They laughed together, and Ca.s.sandra stretched out her hand for the silks which Dane was smoothing between his palms. Just for a moment the two hands touched, but after that moment there followed a pause of mutual self-consciousness. Ca.s.sandra bent her head, unwinding and re-winding her silks with careful deliberation. Dane played with the tangled ball, longing, yet not daring to ask what shade would be next required. He looked with distaste upon the two separate threads; wondering how long they would take to work. When Ca.s.sandra spoke again, she surprised him by a personal question:
”How soon are you to be married, Captain Peignton?”
For a moment he stared in surprise. Then he laughed.
”Apropos of good husbands?”
”I was not thinking of the connection, but let us hope it _is_ apropos.
Soon, I suppose? Men are generally impatient.”
”Are they?” He knit his brows, and appeared to consider the subject.
”I don't know that I am impatient. Being engaged is quite a pleasant condition. It's an opportunity of getting thoroughly acquainted. It doesn't seem fair on the girl to rush her into a hasty marriage. And in the meantime I have no settled home. I could leave the Moat at any time, if there were a sufficient reason, but Paley will be home in autumn. I should like to stay on until his return. It has fitted in very well for me having the run of the place while he is away, and I don't want to make a convenience of him. He wants me to put up at the Moat over Christmas, and have some hunting, and then, if I can find it, I'd like a small agency just to add the jam to my own bread. Perhaps next spring...”
A year from now! Ca.s.sandra was conscious of mingled dismay and relief.
A year more of friends.h.i.+p and understanding; a year more of unrest. For her own sake she could not decide whether she were glad or regretful, but she thought of Mrs Mallison and the pile of catalogues on a table when she had paid her visit of congratulation, and from her heart she was sorry for Teresa.
”I was engaged for six weeks,” she said, shrugging, and Dane opened his lips eagerly, choked back the coming words, and mumbled a conventional astonishment. She longed to know what he had been about to say!
For the next half-hour Ca.s.sandra st.i.tched steadily at the under-robe of the pictured dame, but Peignton had not another chance of feeling the electric thrill of contact as his fingers met hers. She declared that he ruffled the surface of the silks, and insisted upon unravelling for herself.
At half-past four a manservant announced Teresa's arrival. She had been shown into the drawing-room, and Ca.s.sandra rose to go to her, gathering her work materials together on the table. Peignton's eyes were wistful as they followed her movements; again she had the impression that he was on the point of speaking some eager words, but again he checked himself, and was silent.
”I will bring Teresa up to you,” she said quickly. ”You will enjoy a talk with her before tea.”
At five o'clock tea was carried into the Den, and the Squire and Ca.s.sandra came in to share in the meal. They found Teresa sitting close to the couch, in a somewhat aggressive att.i.tude of possession. She had less colour than usual, and her eyes looked tired, and Peignton's first words concerned her health.
”This girl has no business to be out,” he said kindly. ”She is quite hoa.r.s.e and wheezy. I tell her she is a dozen times worse than I am.
I'm afraid she has taken a chill.”
”Oh, Teresa, _don't_ be ill after my bulb party!” Ca.s.sandra entreated.
”Every year I have a batch of colds on my conscience, and this year there is an ankle thrown in. I'll order the car for you later on, and you must take half a dozen remedies to-night, to nip it in the bud.”
”It's no use,” Teresa said gloomily. ”All the remedies in the world won't stop my colds when they once get a start. They begin on my chest, and work steadily up to my head, and I'm fit for nothing but a desert island for a week or ten days. I came out to-day because I knew it would be my last chance. I shall be worse for it, of course; but I don't care. I had to see Dane.”
”Well!” cried Peignton with an air of imparting solace, ”if you are going to drive home there is no need to hurry. Now that the Squire is in and we are a four, what about a game of bridge?”
”Well thought of! So we will! Good idea!” cried the Squire heartily.
Teresa smiled; a thin, artificial smile.
At seven o'clock Ca.s.sandra wrapped her visitor in a warm coat, and walked beside her down the staircase. During the pauses of the game the wheezing of which Dane had spoken had been distinctly audible, and there was no doubt that the girl was in the initial stage of a chest cold.
She was low-spirited too, impatient with the contrariety of fate.
”Just my luck!” she said crossly. ”Now, of all times, when Dane has this tiresome ankle, and needs me to cheer him up. A man hates sitting still, and of course you have a hundred engagements. If he'd been with us, I could have amused him all day long.”
”It wouldn't have been very amusing for him, if you had been in bed with an attack of bronchitis! It _is_ hard luck, Teresa. But you must nurse yourself, and get better quickly. Captain Peignton will soon be able to come to see you. Till then, I'll do everything I can.”