CHAPTER XVIII
THE MORAL CLAIMS OF AN UMBRELLA
The ghost was, so to speak, dead, as far as any mention of him was madeat the Lodgings. But in the servants' quarters he was very much alive.
The housemaid, who had promised not to tell "any one" that Miss Scotthad seen a ghost, kept her word with literal strictness, by tellingevery one.
Robinson was of opinion that the general question of ghosts was still anopen one. Also that he had never heard in his time, or his father's, ofthe Barber's ghost actually appearing in the Warden's library. When themaids expressed alarm, he reproved them with a grumbling scorn. Ifghosts did ever appear, he felt that the Lodgings had a first-classclaim to one; ghosts were "classy," he argued. Had any one ever heardtell of a ghost haunting a red brick villa or a dissenting chapel?
Louise had gathered up the story without difficulty, but she had secretdoubts whether Miss Scott might not have invented the whole thing. Shedid not put much faith in Miss Scott. Now, if Lady Dashwood had seen theghost, that would have been another matter!
What really excited Louise was the story that the Barber came to warnWardens of an approaching disaster. Now Louise was in any case preparedto believe that "disasters" might easily be born and bred in placeslike the Lodgings and in a city like Oxford; but in addition to all thisthere had been and was something going on in the Lodgings lately thatwas distressing Lady Dashwood, something in the behaviour of the Warden!A disaster! Hein?
When she returned from St. Aldates, Gwendolen Scott had had only time tosit down in a chair and survey her boots for a few moments when Louisecame into her bedroom and suggested that Mademoiselle would like to haveher hair well brushed. Mademoiselle's hair had suffered from the passingevents of the day.
"Doesn't Lady Dashwood want you?" asked Gwendolen.
No, Lady Dashwood was already dressed and was reposing herself on thecouch, being fatigued. She was lying with her face towards the window,which was indeed wide open--wide open, and it was after sunset and atthe end of October--par example!
Gwendolen still stared at her boots and said she wanted to think; butLouise had an object in view and was firm, and in a few minutes she haddeposited the young lady in front of the toilet-table and was brushingher black curly hair with much vigour.
"Mademoiselle saw the ghost last night," began Louise.
"Who said that?" exclaimed Gwendolen.
"On dit," said Louise.
"Then they shouldn't on dit," said Gwendolen. "I never said I saw theghost, I may have said I thought I saw one, which is quite different.The Warden says there are no ghosts, and the whole thing is rubbish."
"There comes no ghost here," said Louise, firmly, "except there is adisaster preparing for the Warden."
"The Warden's quite all right," said Gwen, with some scorn.
"Quite all right," repeated Louise. "But it may be some disasterdomestic. Who can tell? There is not only death--there is--par exemple,marriage!" and Louise glanced over Gwendolen's head and looked at thegirl's face reflected in the mirror.
"Well, that is cool," thought Gwendolen; "I suppose that's French!"
"The whole thing is rubbish," she said.
"One cannot tell, it is not for us to know, perhaps, but it may be thatthe disaster is, that Mrs. Dashwood, so charming--so douce--will notpermit herself to marry again--though she is still young. Such thingshappen. But how the Barber should have obtained the information--thegood God only knows."
Gwendolen blew the breath from her mouth with protruding lips.
"What has that to do with the Warden? I do wish you wouldn't talk somuch, Louise."
"It may be a disaster that there can be no marriage between Mrs.Dashwood and Monsieur the Warden," continued Louise.
"The Warden doesn't want to marry Mrs. Dashwood," replied Gwendolen,with some energy.
"Mademoiselle knows!" said Louise, softly.
"Yes, I know," said Gwendolen. "No one has thought of such athing--except you."
"But perhaps he is about to marry--some one whom Lady Dashwood esteemsnot; that would be indeed a disaster," said Louise, regretfully. "Ah,indeed a disaster," and she ran the brush lengthily down Gwendolen'shair.
"I do wish you wouldn't talk," said Gwen. "It isn't your business,Louise."
"Ah," murmured Louise, brushing away, "I will not speak of disasters;but I pray--I pray continually, and particularly I pray to St. Josephto protect M. the Warden from any disaster whatever." Then she added: "Ibelieve so much in St. Joseph."
"St. Joseph!" said Gwendolen, sharply. "Why on earth?"
"I believe much in him," said Louise.
"I don't like him," said Gwendolen. "He always spoils those pictures ofthe Holy Family, he and his beard; he is like Abraham."
"He spoils! That is not so; he is no doubt much, much older than theBlessed Virgin, but that was necessary, and he is un peu homme dumonde--to protect the Lady Mother and Child. I pray to St. Joseph,because the good God, who was the Blessed Child, was always so gentle,so obedient, so tender. He will still listen to his kind protector, St.Joseph."
"Oh, Louise, you are funny," said Gwendolen, laughing.
"Funny!" exclaimed Louise. "Holy Jesus!"
"Well, it all happened such ages ago, and you talk as if it were goingon now."
"It is now--always now--to God," exclaimed Louise, fervently; "there isno past--all is now."
This was far too metaphysical for Gwendolen. "You are funny," sherepeated.
"Funny--again funny. Ah, but I forget, Mademoiselle is Protestant."
"No, I'm not," said Gwen; "I belong to the English branch of theCatholic Church."
"We have no branch, we are a trunk," said Louise, sadly.
"Well, I'm exactly what the Warden is and what Lady Dashwood is," saidGwendolen.
"Ah, my Lady Dashwood," said Louise, breaking into a tone of tragicmelancholy. "I pray always for her. Ah! but she is good, and the goodGod knows it. But she is not well." And Louise changed her tone to oneof mild speculation. "Madame perhaps is souffrante because of so muchfresh air and the absence of shops."
"It is foolish to suppose that the Warden does just what Lady Dashwoodtells him. That doesn't happen in this part of the world," saidGwendolen, her mind still rankling on Louise's remark about LadyDashwood not esteeming--as if, indeed, Lady Dashwood was the importantperson, as if, indeed, it was to please Lady Dashwood that the Wardenwas to marry!
"Ah, no," said Louise. "The monsieurs here come and go just like guestsin their homes. They do as they choose. The husband in England saysnever--as he does in France: 'I come back, my dearest, at the firstmoment possible, to assist you entertain our dear grandmamma and ourdear aunt.' No, he says that not; and the English wife she never says:'Where have you been? It is an hour that our little Suzette demands thatthe father should show her again her new picture book!' Ah, no. I findthat the English messieurs have much liberty."
"It must be deadly for men in France," said Gwendolen.
"It is always funny or deadly with Mademoiselle," replied Louise.
But she felt that she had obtained enough information of an indirectnature to strengthen her in her suspicions that Lady Dashwood hadarranged a marriage between the Warden and Mrs. Dashwood, but that theWarden had not played his part, and, notwithstanding his dignifiedappearance, was amusing himself with both his guests in a manneraltogether reprehensible.
Ah! but it was a pity!
When Louise left the room Gwendolen went to the wardrobe, and took outthe coat that Louise had put away. She felt in the wrong pocket first,which was empty, and then in the right one and found the ten-shillingnote. Now that she had it in her hand it seemed to her amazing that Mrs.Potten, with her big income, should have fussed over such a smallmatter. It was shabby of her.
Gwendolen took her purse out of a drawer which she always locked up.Even if her purse only contained sixpence, she locked it up because shetook for granted that it would be "stolen."
As she put away her purse and locked the
drawer a sudden anddisagreeable thought came into her mind. She would not like the Wardento know that she was going to buy an umbrella with money that Mrs.Potten had "thrown away." She would feel "queer" if she met him in thehall, when she came in from buying the umbrella. Why? Well, she would!Anyhow, she need not make up her mind yet what she would do--about theumbrella.
Meanwhile the Warden surely would speak to her this evening, or wouldwrite or something? Was she never, never going to be engaged?
She dressed and came down into the drawing-room. Dinner had already beenannounced, and Lady Dashwood was standing and Mrs. Dashwood wasstanding. Where was the Warden?
"I ought not to have to tell you to be punctual, Gwen," said LadyDashwood. "I expect you to be in the drawing-room before dinner isannounced, not after."
"So sorry," murmured Gwen; then added lightly, "but I am more punctualthan Dr. Middleton!"
"The Warden is dining in Hall," said Lady Dashwood.
So the Warden had made himself invisible again! When was he going tospeak to her? When was she going to be really engaged?
Gwendolen held open the door for the two ladies and, as she did so,glanced round the room. Now that she knew that the Warden was outsomehow the drawing-room looked rather dreary.
Her eyes rested on the portrait over the fireplace. There was thatodious man looking so knowing! She was not sure whether she shouldn'thave that portrait removed when she was Mrs. Middleton. It would servehim right. She turned out the lights with some satisfaction, it left himin the dark!
As she walked downstairs behind the two ladies, she thought that theytoo looked rather dreary. The hall looked dreary. Even the dining-roomthat she always admired looked dreary, and especially dreary looked oldRobinson, and very shabby he looked, as he stood at the carving table.And young Robinson's nose looked more turned-up, and more stumpy thanshe had noticed before. It was so dull without the Warden at the head ofthe table.
There was very little conversation at dinner. When the Warden was away,nobody seemed to want to talk. Lady Dashwood said she had a headache.
But Gwendolen gathered some information of importance. Mrs. Potten hadturned up again, and had been told that the right money had gone to Mrs.Harding.
Gwendolen stared a good deal at her plate, and felt considerable reliefwhen Lady Dashwood added: "She knows now that she did not lose her notein Christ Church. She is always dropping things--poor Marian! But shevery likely hadn't the note at all, and only thought she had the note,"and so the matter _ended_.
Just as dinner was over Gwen gathered more information. The Warden wasgoing away early to-morrow! That was dreary, only--she would go and buythe umbrella while he was away, and get used to having it before he sawit.
That the future Mrs. Middleton should not even have an umbrella to callher own was monstrous! She must keep up the dignity of her futureposition!