CHAPTER XVI
Not only on her own account, but on that of the Marquess, Celiaregretted keenly the advent of Lord and Lady Heyton at the Hall. Of theman, Celia had formed a most unfavourable opinion, and she could not butsee that his wife, beautiful as she was, was shallow, vain, andunreliable, the kind of woman who would always act on impulse, whetherit were a good or evil one. Such a woman is more dangerous than adeliberately wicked and absolutely heartless one.
The coming of these two persons had broken up the quiet and serenity ofthe great house; she felt sorry for the Marquess, who had been forcedalmost into an open quarrel with his son on this first night; and shefelt sorry for herself; for she had taken an instinctive dislike to LordHeyton, and knew that she would have hard work to avoid him. There aremen whose look, when it is bent upon a woman, is an insult; the touch ofwhose hand is a contamination; and Celia felt that Lord Heyton was oneof these men. She shut herself up in the library the next morning, andthough she heard him in the hall, and was afflicted by the pungentcigarette, which was rarely out of his lips, he did not intrude on her;but as she was passing through the hall, on her way for a walk, she methim coming out of the smoking-room. His was a well-groomed figure, andsave for the weak and sensuous lips, and the prominent eyes with thecurious expression, he was, physically, by no means a bad specimen of ayoung man; but Celia was acutely conscious of the feeling of repulsion,and she quickened her pace. With his hands still in his pockets, healmost intercepted her.
"Good morning, Miss Grant!" he said, with the free-and-easy manner of aman addressing a dependent. "First-rate morning, isn't it? Going for awalk?"
"Yes, my lord," replied Celia, giving him his title with a littleemphasis, and speaking coldly, with her eyes fixed on the ground, herhands touching Roddy, who had not offered to go to Lord Heyton, butgazed up at Celia as if he were saying, "I don't like this man. Let usgo for our walk and get away from him."
"Not a bad idea, a walk; tip-top morning," said Heyton. "I'll come withyou, if you'll allow me."
Celia bit her lip, and flushed angrily; for the request for permissionwas so evidently a mere matter of form.
"I would rather go alone, my lord," she said. "I am going to call on afriend."
"Oh, but I can go as far as the door with you, surely," he said, withthe smile of a man too self-satisfied to accept a woman's rebuffseriously. "Two's company and one's none."
"But there are already two," said Celia, forcing a smile and glancing atRoddy. "It is very kind of your lordship, but I would rather be alone."She moved on quickly, her heart beating rather fast with resentment, herface crimson. Heyton followed her to the door, and stood looking afterher, an evil smile on his face.
"Pretty high and mighty for a typewriting girl," he muttered. "By jove!she's pretty. I like that swing of hers. All right, my girl; I'm nottaken in by that mock shyness. You wait awhile. Yes; she's deucedpretty. I wonder how the old man picked her up!"
Celia had gone some distance before she recovered her equanimity.Certainly, this son of the Marquess was a hateful creature, and shecould not help wondering how even so shallow and frivolous a woman ashis wife could have married him. She had reached the bend of the road,when she stopped short and stared with amazement at a group whichpresented itself a little farther down.
On the bank adjoining the pathway was seated Lady Gridborough; her hatwas on one side, her face was flushed, her mantle dusty and disarranged;but her good-natured face was wreathed in smiles as she watched a youngman, standing beside the Exmoor pony and attempting to keep it fromrearing and plunging.
"Oh, whatever is the matter?" demanded Celia, as she ran forward.
Lady Gridborough looked up, laughed, and wiped her eyes.
"Good morning, my dear," she said; "you've come just in time to enjoy alittle comedy." She nodded at the young man and the frisking pony. "Turktook it into his head to bolt just now, coming down the hill there. Isuppose it was only his fun, but we ran up on to the path, the cartoverturned----"
"Oh! Are you hurt?" demanded Celia, anxiously.
"Not a bit," replied Lady Gridborough; "but I might have been, for I wasmixed up with the cart in some extraordinary fashion. I don't know whatmight have happened if it hadn't been for that young man there. Heappeared on the scene as if he had dropped from the clouds; hedisentangled me somehow, set the cart up again, and is now trying topersuade that fool of a pony that this isn't a circus."
At the sound of Celia's voice, the young man had turned his head anduttered an exclamation, and now that Celia saw his face, she, too,uttered a cry of astonishment; for she recognized Mr. Reginald Rex, theyoung man of the British Museum.
She sprang up and went to him with a hand extended; he grasped it, andthey stared at each other for a moment in astonished silence; then Celiaburst into laughter.
"Why, how ridiculous!" she said. "To think of meeting you here, and inthis way!"
"It's--incredible!" he retorted. "What are you doing here?"
"I may ask you the same question," said Celia.
"I'll tell you directly," he replied, "as soon as I've persuaded thispony that we've finished the trick act."
"Celia!" called Lady Gridborough from the bank. "Come here at once. Whatdoes this mean? Do you know that young man? You greet each other as ifyou were life-long friends!"
"Well, we're not quite that," said Celia, laughing. "We've met at theBritish Museum. He is a novelist."
For an instant Lady Gridborough looked slightly disappointed; but it wasfor an instant only.
"Well, he's a plucky young man all the same, my dear," she said. "Hereally did show great presence of mind, and has been awfully nicethroughout the whole business. Fancy your meeting here in this way! Whatis his name?"
As Celia told her, Reggie, having secured the harness sufficiently,brought the now placid and subdued Turk to his mistress.
"Oh, is it all right?" said her ladyship. "Well, Mr. Rex, I'm very muchobliged to you. And so you know this young lady, my friend, Miss Grant!Dear me, how extraordinary. My dear, is my hat straight?"
It was resting on one ear; and Celia, laughingly, but gently, put itstraight.
"I was going into the village," said Lady Gridborough; "but I supposeI'd better go home."
"Yes, yes; of course you had!" said Celia. "You must be very muchshaken, if you are not actually hurt."
"Very well, then," said her ladyship. "Get in, my dear. And you, too,Mr. Rex, if you've not already had enough of me, and Turk."
"I'll come, and drive," said Rex, with marked promptitude.
"Yes, do; though a child might drive him with a match and a piece ofcotton now. This is a very interesting meeting for you two. May oneinquire what you are doing in this locality, young man?"
"I'm taking a bit of a holiday--well, scarcely a holiday; for I'mthinking out a new novel," said Reggie, modestly, and with a littleblush.
"Dear me, you don't say so," said the old lady, opening her eyes wide."Wonder how you do it! Come in search of character, I suppose? Well,here's your heroine, anyway."
"Yes, she is," said the boy, now blushing outright and nodding at Celia."She's been my heroine ever since I first saw her--in the British MuseumReading Room, you know."
"That's a candid avowal," observed her ladyship, dryly, as Celialaughed.
They chatted in this pleasant fashion, and, in due course, reached theGrange. It was quite a merry little lunch, through which Reggie talkedincessantly, to the increased amusement of his good-natured hostess, andconfirming her good opinion of him.
"Now, you two children can go and sit on the terrace while I have mynap. Wiggins, give Mr. Rex a cigar."
The two went out on the terrace; and scarcely waiting for him to light acigar, Celia demanded "his story."
"Oh, well; I've had a stroke of luck," he said, with a long breath. "Andit's all owing to you."
"To me!"
"Yes. You remember that 'short' I sent you? But, of course, you don't."
"Oh, yes, I do," Celi
a assured him. "It was an awfully good story."
"Well, backed up by all the fine things you said, I sent it to theeditor of the _Piccadilly Magazine_. He accepted it--perhaps he wasn'twell at the time--and more than that, he sent for me. I thought,perhaps, he wanted to shoot me; but, bless you, no! He liked the thingso much that he commissioned me to write a 'long, complete,' twentythousand words; so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone, run downinto the country for a holiday and business combined. But, look here,before I say another word, you've got to tell me what you're doinghere."
Celia told him as briefly as she could.
"Oh, but that's splendid!" he cried, seizing her hand and shaking it,just as if she were another boy. "I say, you _are_ a swell; and amongstsuch swells; marquesses and lords and ladies of high degree! But, I say,I am glad. How happy you must be!"
"I am," said Celia. "But go on, tell me about your novel; what kind of anovel is it to be?"
"Do you remember my telling you, that afternoon at the A.B.C. shop, how,if ever I got a chance, I meant to go in for character, psychology? Goodword, psychology! Well, I've got my chance, and I'm going for itbald-headed. Since I saw you, I have been studying Lavater; thephysiognomy man, you know--wonderful book!--and I've been fittingimaginary histories to everybody, man or woman, I've met."
"I used to do that," said Celia, dreamily; and back came Brown'sBuildings.
"Yes? Of course, one may make an awfully bad shot sometimes; but I'minclined to think that, as a rule, one is pretty accurate. I mean, thatyou can judge the character of a man from his face--not so often that ofa woman, because she's more difficult, she knows how to mask herfeelings----"
"Thank you," interjected Celia.
"Oh, you know what I mean! She's been the slave of the man forcenturies, and she's been obliged to deceive him."
"Thank you very, _very_ much!"
"Oh, but she's getting past that, now; she's coming into her own,whatever that may prove to be; and presently she'll go about with anopen countenance, and it may be easier for me to study her."
"It's to be a detective story, I suppose?" said Celia.
"Right the first go off!" he assented, admiringly. "Yes; but somethingout of the ordinary, I hope. I've been through a course of Gaborieau,and the rest of the detective-story men, and I want to come out withsomething fresh. Of course, what I need is real experience. I suppose Iought to have served my term as a criminal reporter; do murders andforgeries, and all that kind of thing. But, then, I haven't. I musttrust to luck and chance. You don't happen to know whether a nice littlemurder I could sleuth down has been committed here?"
"I'm afraid there hasn't," replied Celia, laughing.
"Rather a pity, isn't it? Never mind! Oh, are you going?"
"Yes, I must go," said Celia. "I won't disturb Lady Gridborough. Willyou say good-bye to her for me?"
"Oh, but I'm coming with you," he said, decidedly. "I'll walk with youas far as your place and then come back and make my adieux to herladyship."
They set off, laughing and talking; and presently, as they came toSusie's cottage, Susie herself, with the baby in her arms, was standingat the door. At sight of Celia's companion, Susie drew back; but Celiacalled to her and ran up to her.
"Oh, Susie, I'm so sorry!" she said, remorsefully; "but I meant to speakto Lady Gridborough to-day about the christening. I have seen her; butshe met with an accident; she is all right, quite all right. I will goup to the Grange again to-morrow, and come in to tell you what we havearranged."
She had taken the child in her arms and was hugging and kissing it;then, seeing that Susie wanted to retreat, she gave her the child andreturned to Reggie, who had been standing by the gate, his eyes fixed onthem. He drew a long breath as they turned away, and exclaimed, in a lowvoice:--
"I say! What an awfully pretty woman! Was that her baby? She lookedquite a girl."
"Yes," said Celia, gravely. "Susie is only a girl."
"She must have been married very young," said Reggie, with, evidentinterest. "What beautiful eyes! But, I say, why did she look so sad?Isn't--isn't her husband good to her?"
Celia was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the ground, a faintcolour in her cheeks. If he were staying in the neighbourhood, he mustinevitably learn something of Susie's story. Would it not be well forher to tell him?
"She is not married!" said Celia, in a whisper.
"Oh, lord," said Reggie, "I'm sorry! Poor girl!"
There was no more light-hearted chatter; he became absent-minded;indeed, they were almost silent till they were close upon the lodgegates.
"You must go back now," said Celia.
"Must I? I say, when can I see you again; and how soon? May I write toyou and fix up an appointment, or will you write to me? You will, won'tyou, Miss Grant?"
"Yes," said Celia. "I want to hear how the novel goes on. Perhaps LadyGridborough will let us come to tea at the Grange, if I ask her."
They were shaking hands, when they both saw Lord Heyton crossing thelawn. Reggie looked at him in silence for a moment; then he said:--
"That one of the swells of the house?"
"That is Lord Heyton, the Marquess's son," said Celia.
"Friend of yours?" Reggie inquired.
"No!" escaped Celia's lips.
Reggie turned his eyes to her quickly.
"Glad of that!" he said. "Because, if there's anything in the science ofphysiognomy, that gentleman is a decidedly bad lot."
Celia turned away from the gate and walked slowly beside Reggie.
"You jump at conclusions," she said. "You have only seen him for amoment or two, and at a distance."
"I've got very good eyes," said Reggie; "and a moment or two's longenough; it's the first impression that's valuable; and, as I say, ifthere's any truth in the theory that you can read a character by facialcharacteristics, that gentleman is about as bad as they make 'em."
"But--forgive me--that you should be able to judge so swiftly soundsabsurd."
"Well, it may be," admitted Reggie, grudgingly. "But I'll bet my lastdollar that I'm right. Why, don't you see," he went on, earnestly,insistently, "the man's got all the wrong points; the low, shelvingbrow, the weak chin, the--the wrong lips. Did you notice the trick hehas of looking sideways under his lids? You know what I mean, thefurtive 'does-anyone-know' look?"
"I have noticed it," said Celia, reluctantly. "I have only seen him onceor twice. I--I agree with you partly, and I don't think he's a goodman."
"_Good_ man!" retorted Reggie, with a laugh of derision. "You take itfrom me that he's as bad as they make 'em. It's my belief that he's donesomething already--something he's ashamed of; something he's afraid maybe found out. Oh, laugh if you like; but, look here, Miss Grant, youtake my advice and keep clear of that man."
"I mean to," said Celia, as lightly as she could. "And so, as he's inthe front of the house, I'm going in at this side door. Good-bye; I'llwrite to you."
Reggie walked on towards the Grange, and as he approached Susie'scottage, his step grew slow, so slow that, when he came to the gate, healmost stopped; and his eyes searched the door and the window eagerly;but he was not rewarded by a sight of the sad, pretty face which hadmoved him so deeply.