The Woman's Way
CHAPTER XIV
As Celia undressed slowly, going over the scene that had taken place inthe hall below, recalling the changes in the Marquess's expressive face,his strange manner, with its suggestion of anger and impatience, shesought in vain for an explanation. Had he actually been annoyed andirritated by her admission that she had noticed a resemblance in theportrait of his dead brother to someone whom she had met? He had said,emphatically, that it was only a fancied resemblance, and she acceptedhis decision. It certainly could be only a freak of imagination on herpart, seeing that the Marquess's brother had not married--indeed, it wasridiculous to suppose that there was any connection between the noblefamily of the Sutcombes and the unknown man in the poverty-stricken roomat Brown's Buildings. Woman-like, her mind dwelt more on him than on theMarquess's impatience and annoyance. There was something strange,mysterious, in the fact that, not only was she haunted by the memory ofthe young man, but that here, at Thexford Hall, she should fancy aportrait of one of the family resembled him.
It did not need much to recall him to her mind; for it may be said thatin no idle moment of hers was her mind free of him. Now she askedherself, for the hundredth time, not only what had become of him, butwhat was her duty to him. She had not tried to find him, had notendeavoured to communicate with him. At the moment it occurred to herthat she might have inserted a carefully-guarded advertisement in thePersonal column of one or more of the newspapers, and she felt ashamedthat the thought had not struck her before. She almost, but not quite,decided to insert such an advertisement at once; but, as she pondered,she questioned the wisdom of such an action. Her mind swung, like apendulum, from one side to the other, and at last she fell asleep, stillundecided, but still thinking of him.
The next morning she went out with Roddy for her usual before-breakfastrun. It seemed that the Marquess also was an early riser; for she sawhis figure, pacing one of the walks, his eyes fixed on the ground. Shewas going in his direction, and Roddy, catching sight of him, boundedtowards him. The Marquess saw her, raised his hat, and turned. It seemedto Celia that he wished to avoid her, and she went on her way--the dogreturning to her--and re-entered the house. She did not know whether toexpect a visit in the library from the Marquess; and every now and then,when she heard his footstep or his voice, she paused in her work withsomething like apprehension. But he did not come. In the afternoon hewent out in the motor, and presently Mrs. Dexter came into the library.
"The Marquess tells me he saw you last night, my dear," she said. "Ihope you liked him."
"Yes," said Celia; "he was very kind."
"Oh, his lordship is kindness itself," said Mrs. Dexter; "and he seemsquite interested in you; he is anxious that you should not overworkyourself, and he told me that I was to look after you and see that youwent out and took plenty of exercise every day. He's like that; no onecould be more kind and considerate to those in his service. And now, mydear, it's a beautiful afternoon and you must go for a run, or I shallget into trouble with his lordship."
"Anything rather than that," said Celia, with a laugh. "Indeed, I'm justgoing out. Won't you come, too, Mrs. Dexter?"
"Oh, my dear, it's quite impossible," said the housekeeper, "Lord andLady Heyton are coming this afternoon.... No, you can't help me, thankyou very much; everything is ready. I've given her ladyship the bestsouth room, and I hope she will be pleased. I hear that she is a verybeautiful young lady. She's a clergyman's daughter, and it was alove-match. It is a good thing that Lord Heyton is married and settled;a good thing for everybody," she added, with, perhaps, unintentionalsignificance.
Remembering her promise to Lady Gridborough, Celia decided to go to seeSusie; and, with Roddy scampering about her, she walked briskly in thedirection of the cottage. As Celia came up to it, Susie was at the gatewith the child in her arms, and the pale-faced girl-mother turned as ifto avoid her; but Celia, with shyness in her soft, clear voice, said:
"Oh, mayn't I see the baby? Mayn't I come in?"
"Yes; you may come in, if you wish, if you want to, miss," said Susie,in her low voice, and after a moment's hesitation.
Celia followed her into the little sitting-room. It was a tiny place,but it was scrupulously clean and neat. Susie placed a chair for thevisitor, and stood, with her baby pressed close to her, her eyesdowncast. Her girlish face, pretty, notwithstanding the lines andhollows graved by sorrow, was like a mask in its impassivity. It was asif she were saying, "You have come, but I did not ask you to do so; I donot want you. I have all I want here, lying on my bosom."
"Let me have him for a moment," begged Celia, who, young as she was,comprehended the girl's feelings. "How sweet he looks!" she exclaimed,as she took the child and kissed it.
The mother's face twitched as she noted the kiss, and her eyes softeneda little.
"He is very good," she said, as if she were speaking to herself ratherthan to Celia. "He is never any trouble; he is very healthy."
"He looks like a strong little cherub," said Celia, touching, with aforefinger as light as a feather, the dimple on the child's chin; "and,of course, he isn't any trouble. And you wouldn't think he was, if hewere, would you? What is his name?"
Susie turned away to set a vase straight.
"He hasn't any name," she said, not suddenly, but in a dull, tonelessvoice. "He hasn't been christened yet."
"Oh, but you must have him christened," said Celia, speaking lightly, toconceal the embarrassment of the subject. "Haven't you decided on a namefor him yet?"
Susie shook her head. "What does it matter?" she asked, in a whisper.
Celia fought the growing embarrassment womanfully.
"Oh, I think it matters a great deal," she responded, in the same lighttone. "If I had a beautiful boy like this, I should like him to have anice name--a manly name. But, of course, you've thought of one?"
Susie shook her head again.
"No? Will you think me very--well, cheeky--if I suggest some? Now, letme see! He is fair, isn't he? Some names are appropriate to fair men,while others are more suitable to dark ones, don't you think so?"
She laughed; but there was no smile in Susie's eyes, as she turned andlooked, moodily, at the baby, one of whose chubby hands was claspingCelia's finger.
"Let's think of some names," said Celia. "James! I don't like that, doyou? Richard; no, that's a dark name. Percy; how would that do?"
It was almost impossible for the pale face to grow paler, and yet, for amoment, as the blue eyes fixed themselves on Celia, Susie's pallorincreased. Her arms went out as if she were about to take the child; butCelia looking up, smiled beseechingly.
"Oh, let me have him a little longer," she pleaded. "You have him allthe time, you know. Let me see, what was the last name--Percy! Do youlike it?"
With an effort, Susie said, slowly, and in almost a whisper:
"My--my father's name was Gerald:--will--will that do?"
"Oh, the very thing!" cried Celia, earnestly. "Gerald. Of course, youwill call him after his grandfather. Do decide on that, Mrs.--Morton,"she added, with a sudden nervousness.
"I'll call him Gerald, if you like," Susie said, phlegmatically. "Herladyship was saying that he ought to be christened."
"Of course," said Celia; "and I'd like to be his godmother, if you'lllet me?"
Susie swung round, her lips parted, her brows bent, and her eyes fixedon Celia's upturned face.
"You!" she said, as if she were panting. "You'll be a godmother to--him?And you know what he is--what I am? Her ladyship has told you?"
"Yes," said Celia, in a low voice.
"And you come here to me: you offer to--to do this! Don't you know thatI was driven from my place, the place in which I was born, that everywoman I've met, excepting her ladyship, would like to throw a stone atme? Why are you different from the others?"
"I don't know," said Celia, simply. "Perhaps it's because LadyGridborough told me the whole story. But I'm--you see, I'm young, likeyourself; and though I've mixed in the world, perhaps I haven't learntto f
eel hardly as some of the folks you speak of do. I was going to saythat I pity you, Susie; but I won't say that. I like you, I like to seeyou when you're looking at the child."
Susie turned away, her bosom heaving; there were no tears in her eyes,she had already wept them dry.
"And you mustn't look at me as if I were a stranger, as if I had come tosee you out of impertinent curiosity only; I want to come to see youvery often. I'm in love with Gerald--it is to be Gerald, isn'tit?--already. And it will be such a pleasure to me to run in and see himas often as I can; indeed, I must look after him; I shall be his secondmother, you see; and between us, we'll train him up in the way he shouldgo, and make a good man of him."
She was smiling now; but there were tears in her eyes, though Susie'swere still dry.
"I can't resist you," said Susie, at last. "I know it's wrong that youshould be mixed up with one like me. Your friends----"
"Haven't any friends," said Celia, lightly. "I mean, friends that wouldinterfere with me; and if I had, I should not let them do so. I'm alonein the world, like yourself, Susie; and I'm my own mistress. Come, say'Yes.'"
"I must. It's not in me to resist you, miss," said Susie, with a littlegesture of yielding. "But, mind me! the people hereabouts, the grandfolk up at the Hall, will take offence----"
"Let them!" said Celia. "But I don't think they will. They are all verykind, even the Marquess."
Susie looked up swiftly.
"Is--is he here, at the Hall?" she asked.
"Yes," said Celia. "He came last night. I saw him; he is very kind,though a very sad, melancholy man. You shall have the baby now. It'scruel of me to have kept him so long. But I must hurry back; for I haveso much work to do. I shall come again as soon as I can; and I'll speakto Lady Gridborough about the christening, and arrange everything."
Susie went out to the gate with her, and was saying the last good-bye,when the stillness was broken by the humming of a motor-car. In a cloudof dust, an automobile came up the road; it was upon them almost in aninstant.
"That's the big car from the Hall," said Celia. "Why, it must have comefrom the station, and that must be----"
As she spoke the car came abreast of them. In it were seated a fair,good-looking man, with prominent eyes and loose lips, and beside him anextremely pretty woman, clad daintily in a fashionable and expensivetravelling costume.
"----Yes, that must be Lord and Lady Heyton," finished Celia; and herattention was so engrossed by the occupants of the car that she did notsee the sudden pallor which had fallen on the face of the girl besideher, nor the swift gesture with which she drew the shawl over thechild's face and pressed it to her bosom, as if to hide it. She utteredno cry, but a look of something like terror transformed her face; and,with a quick movement, she turned and fled into the cottage. Celiaopened the garden gate and went on her way, half-suffocated by the dustof the rapidly disappearing car.
As Celia entered the Hall, she was met by the odour of an Egyptiancigarette. There was something unpleasantly pungent about it, and,coming out of the fresh air, she, unconsciously, resented the tooobtrusive perfume; it recalled to her the atmosphere of a cheap Sohorestaurant, and shady foreigners with shifty glances. Such an atmospherewas singularly inappropriate in that great hall, with its air ofrefinement and dignity. She was making her way to the stairs, when theman she had seen in the car came out of one of the rooms. Theobjectionable cigarette was between his lips, his hands were thrust inhis pockets, there was a kind of swagger in his walk. He looked like agentleman, but one of the wrong kind, the sort of man one meets in thelowest stratum of the Fast Set. Celia noted all this, without appearingto look at him; it is a way women have, that swift, sideways glanceunder their lashes, the glance that takes in so much while seeming quitecasual and uninterested.
Lord Heyton stared at her, curiously and boldly; her youth and herbeauty brought a smile to his face, the smile which is very near to aninsult, and he removed his cigarette and opened his lips, as if to speakto her. But, as if unconscious of his presence, Celia went up the stairsquickly and looking straight before her. She had seen the smile, andknew, without looking back, that he was standing in the hall and staringup at her.
Instinctively, she felt that Lord Heyton was a man to be avoided.