Part 30 (1/2)

”He's relieved,” declared the d.u.c.h.essa inwardly, and somewhat astounded.

”He's so amazingly diffident, and yet so utterly in love, he's relieved.”

Of course she was right, she knew perfectly well she was right. Well, perhaps courage would grow with Trix's absence. For his own sake it was to be devoutly trusted that it would.

Doctor Hilary took his tobacco pouch from his pocket, and with it a small piece of paper. He looked at the paper.

”The name of a new rose,” he said. ”Michael Field, the new under-gardener at the Hall, gave it to me. He tells me it is a very free flowerer, and has a lovely scent. Do you care to have the name, d.u.c.h.essa?” He held the slip of paper towards her.

The d.u.c.h.essa looked carelessly at it. Trix was looking at the d.u.c.h.essa.

”No, thank you,” she replied. ”We have plenty of roses here, and Thornby can no doubt give me the name of any new kinds I shall want.”

Now it was not merely an entirely unnecessary refusal, but the tone of the speech was nearly, if not quite, deliberately rude. It was a terribly big p.r.i.c.kle, and showed itself perfectly distinctly. There wasn't even the smallest semblance of disguise about it.

Doctor Hilary put the paper and his tobacco pouch back into his pocket.

”I must be off,” he said in an oddly quiet voice. ”I've one or two other calls to make.”

Miss Tibb.u.t.t walked towards the house with him,--to fetch some more knitting, so she announced. Trix suspected a little mental stroking.

”What's the matter, Pia?” asked Trix calmly, leaning back in her chair.

”The matter?” said Pia, the faintest suspicion of a flush in her cheeks.

”You were very--very _snubbing_ to Doctor Hilary,” announced Trix, still calmly. Inwardly she was not so calm. In fact, her heart was thumping quite loudly.

”My dear Trix,” replied the d.u.c.h.essa coldly, ”I have an excellent gardener. I do not care for recommendations emanating from a complete stranger.”

”There was no smallest need to snub Doctor Hilary, though,” said Trix quietly. The queer surprise on his face had caused a little stab at her heart.

The d.u.c.h.essa made no reply.

”Pia, what _is_ the matter?” asked Trix again.

”I have told you, nothing,” responded the d.u.c.h.essa.

Trix shook her head. ”Yes; there is. You're unhappy. You've been--you can tell me to mind my own business, if you like--you've been horribly p.r.i.c.kly lately. You've tried to hurt my feelings, and Tibby's, and now you've tried to hurt Doctor Hilary's. And he didn't deserve it in the least, but he thought, for a moment, he did. And it isn't like you, Pia.

It isn't one bit. Do tell me what's the matter?”

”Nothing,” said Pia again.

”Darling, that's a--a white lie at all events.”

Pia coloured. ”Anyhow it's not worth talking about,” she said.

”Are you sure it isn't?” urged Trix. ”Couldn't I help the weeniest bit?”

The d.u.c.h.essa shook her head.