Part 21 (1/2)
”The House is not sitting this afternoon. You know it rises for the Easter vacation to-morrow.”
”On Thursday I go down to Hazels. I wanted that bad person, Mary Gray, to come with me. She says she has to work at her book. Did you ever hear such stuff and nonsense? As though the world can't get on without one young woman's book. I told her she could do it at Hazels. She says she couldn't--that she'll have to be out all day long. London will not tempt her out, she says. Is she to go bending her back and dimming her eyes while the lambs are at play in the fields and the primroses thick in the woods?”
”She's an obstinate person, Mrs. Morres. When she has made up her mind to do a thing----”
”Ah! you know her pretty well.”
”We first met about nine years ago.”
”Dear me! I had no idea that you were such old friends. I thought you met first in this house.”
”Lady Anne Hamilton, the old lady who adopted Miss Gray, was my mother's friend.”
He said nothing about the fact that twelve hours ago he had not known Mary Gray for the child he had played with for one afternoon, nor of the long gap between that occasion and their next meeting. Not from any disingenuousness; but he had a feeling that he liked to keep that meeting of long ago to himself.
”Dear me, to be sure you would be interested in Mary. You would know a good deal about her. Nine years--it is a long time.”
If he had been the most consummate plotter he could not better have paved the way for the suggestion he was about to make.
”Put off your return to Hazels till Sat.u.r.day morning. I want to take you and Miss Gray into the country for a day on Thursday.”
”Indeed, young man! And wait for the Sat.u.r.day crowd of holiday-makers! A nice figure I should be struggling among them.”
”I will be at Victoria to see you off.”
”Oh, you needn't do that.” Mrs. Morres turned about with the inconsequence of her s.e.x. ”I've brought one of the maids up with me. She will take care of me better than most men. She is alarming, this good Susan, to the people who don't know her. But I thought you were going abroad?”
”So I am. Sat.u.r.day morning will do me very well.”
”How did you know I was in town? No one is supposed to. All the blinds are down in front and will be till her Ladys.h.i.+p returns.”
”Miss Gray told me. I saw her yesterday.”
She looked at him sharply. His honest, plain face rea.s.sured her. A friends.h.i.+p of nine years, too. What trouble could there possibly arise after a friends.h.i.+p of nine years? Mary must know that he was all but engaged to his cousin.
”Does she approve of the country trip?”
”I have not asked her. I left that to you to do. She has been shut up in London all the winter. She needs a breath of country air.”
”So she does. She shows the London winter, though you may not see it.
Very well, you shall take us both into the country on Thursday. Mary will not dream of refusing me.”
”That is it. She means to spend those six days between Thursday and Wednesday toiling at her book. I have heard her say that she will spend Thursday at the British Museum.”
”Stuff and nonsense, she shan't! The world will do just as well without the book. She must come to Hazels on Sat.u.r.day. You will help me to persuade her?”
”I will do my best. How did you leave Hazels?”
”Lovely. For the rest, a wilderness of despairing dogs. They will forgive me if I bring back Mary. By the way, what have you got for me to do on Friday? If you will keep me in town when all the shops are shut!
Not that it matters. I've finished all my shopping. But am I to spend my Good Friday here, in this room? London streets are no place for a poor woman on Good Friday.”