XIII.
Though exhibiting indifference, Somerset had felt a pang ofdisappointment when he heard the news of Paula's approachingdinner-party. It seemed a little unkind of her to pass him over, seeinghow much they were thrown together just now. That dinner meant morethan it sounded. Notwithstanding the roominess of her castle, she was atpresent living somewhat incommodiously, owing partly to the stagnationcaused by her recent bereavement, and partly to the necessity foroverhauling the De Stancy lumber piled in those vast and gloomychambers before they could be made tolerable to nineteenth-centuryfastidiousness.
To give dinners on any large scale before Somerset had at least seta few of these rooms in order for her, showed, to his thinking, anoverpowering desire for society.
During the week he saw less of her than usual, her time being toall appearance much taken up with driving out to make calls on herneighbours and receiving return visits. All this he observed from thewindows of his studio overlooking the castle ward, in which room henow spent a great deal of his time, bending over drawing-boards andinstructing Dare, who worked as well as could be expected of a youth ofsuch varied attainments.
Nearer came the Wednesday of the party, and no hint of that eventreached Somerset, but such as had been communicated by the Baptistminister. At last, on the very afternoon, an invitation was handed intohis studio--not a kind note in Paula's handwriting, but a formal printedcard in the joint names of Mrs. Goodman and Miss Power. It reached himjust four hours before the dinner-time. He was plainly to be used as astop-gap at the last moment because somebody could not come.
Having previously arranged to pass a quiet evening in his rooms at theLord Quantock Arms, in reading up chronicles of the castle fromthe county history, with the view of gathering some ideas as to thedistribution of rooms therein before the demolition of a portion of thestructure, he decided off-hand that Paula's dinner was not of sufficientimportance to him as a professional man and student of art to justifya waste of the evening by going. He accordingly declined Mrs. Goodman'sand Miss Power's invitation; and at five o'clock left the castle andwalked across the fields to the little town.
He dined early, and, clearing away heaviness with a cup of coffee,applied himself to that volume of the county history which contained therecord of Stancy Castle.
Here he read that 'when this picturesque and ancient structure wasfounded, or by whom, is extremely uncertain. But that a castle stood onthe site in very early times appears from many old books of charters. Inits prime it was such a masterpiece of fortification as to be the wonderof the world, and it was thought, before the invention of gunpowder,that it never could be taken by any force less than divine.'
He read on to the times when it first passed into the hands of 'DeStancy, Chivaler,' and received the family name, and so on from DeStancy to De Stancy till he was lost in the reflection whether Paulawould or would not have thought more highly of him if he had acceptedthe invitation to dinner. Applying himself again to the tome, he learnedthat in the year 1504 Stephen the carpenter was 'paid eleven pence fornecessarye repayrs,' and William the mastermason eight shillings 'forwhyt lyming of the kitchen, and the lyme to do it with,' including 'anew rope for the fyer bell;' also the sundry charges for 'vij crockes,xiij lytyll pans, a pare of pot hookes, a fyer pane, a lanterne, achafynge dyshe, and xij candyll stychs.'
Bang went eight strokes of the clock: it was the dinner-hour.
'There, now I can't go, anyhow!' he said bitterly, jumping up, andpicturing her receiving her company. How would she look; what would shewear? Profoundly indifferent to the early history of the noblefabric, he felt a violent reaction towards modernism, eclecticism, newaristocracies, everything, in short, that Paula represented. He evengave himself up to consider the Greek court that she had wished for, andpassed the remainder of the evening in making a perspective view of thesame.
The next morning he awoke early, and, resolving to be at work betimes,started promptly. It was a fine calm hour of day; the grass slopes weresilvery with excess of dew, and the blue mists hung in the depths ofeach tree for want of wind to blow them out. Somerset entered thedrive on foot, and when near the castle he observed in the gravel thewheel-marks of the carriages that had conveyed the guests thither thenight before. There seemed to have been a large number, for the roadwhere newly repaired was quite cut up. Before going indoors he wastempted to walk round to the wing in which Paula slept.
Rooks were cawing, sparrows were chattering there; but the blind of herwindow was as closely drawn as if it were midnight. Probably she wassound asleep, dreaming of the compliments which had been paid her byher guests, and of the future triumphant pleasures that would follow intheir train. Reaching the outer stone stairs leading to the great hallhe found them shadowed by an awning brilliantly striped with redand blue, within which rows of flowering plants in pots bordered thepathway. She could not have made more preparation had the gathering beena ball. He passed along the gallery in which his studio was situated,entered the room, and seized a drawing-board to put into correct drawingthe sketch for the Greek court that he had struck out the night before,thereby abandoning his art principles to please the whim of a girl. Darehad not yet arrived, and after a time Somerset threw down his pencil andleant back.
His eye fell upon something that moved. It was white, and lay in thefolding chair on the opposite side of the room. On near approach hefound it to be a fragment of swan's-down fanned into motion by his ownmovements, and partially squeezed into the chink of the chair as thoughby some person sitting on it.
None but a woman would have worn or brought that swan's-down into hisstudio, and it made him reflect on the possible one. Nothing interruptedhis conjectures till ten o'clock, when Dare came. Then one of theservants tapped at the door to know if Mr. Somerset had arrived.Somerset asked if Miss Power wished to see him, and was informed thatshe had only wished to know if he had come. Somerset sent a returnmessage that he had a design on the board which he should soon be gladto submit to her, and the messenger departed.
'Fine doings here last night, sir,' said Dare, as he dusted hisT-square.
'O indeed!'
'A dinner-party, I hear; eighteen guests.'
'Ah,' said Somerset.
'The young lady was magnificent--sapphires and opals--she carried asmuch as a thousand pounds upon her head and shoulders during that threeor four hour. Of course they call her charming; Compuesta no hay mugerfea, as they say at Madrid.'
'I don't doubt it for a moment,' said Somerset, with reserve.
Dare said no more, and presently the door opened, and there stood Paula.
Somerset nodded to Dare to withdraw into an adjoining room, and offeredher a chair.
'You wish to show me the design you have prepared?' she asked, withouttaking the seat.
'Yes; I have come round to your opinion. I have made a plan forthe Greek court you were anxious to build.' And he elevated thedrawing-board against the wall.
She regarded it attentively for some moments, her finger resting lightlyagainst her chin, and said, 'I have given up the idea of a Greek court.'
He showed his astonishment, and was almost disappointed. He had beengrinding up Greek architecture entirely on her account; had wrenched hismind round to this strange arrangement, all for nothing.
'Yes,' she continued; 'on reconsideration I perceive the want of harmonythat would result from inserting such a piece of marble-work in amediaeval fortress; so in future we will limit ourselves strictly tosynchronism of style--that is to say, make good the Norman work byNorman, the Perpendicular by Perpendicular, and so on. I have informedMr. Havill of the same thing.'
Somerset pulled the Greek drawing off the board, and tore it in twopieces.
She involuntarily turned to look in his face, but stopped before she hadquite lifted her eyes high enough. 'Why did you do that?' she asked withsuave curiosity.
'It is of no further use,' said Somerset, tearing the drawing in theother direction, and throwing the pieces into the fireplace. 'Yo
u havebeen reading up orders and styles to some purpose, I perceive.' Heregarded her with a faint smile.
'I have had a few books down from town. It is desirable to know a littleabout the architecture of one's own house.'
She remained looking at the torn drawing, when Somerset, observing onthe table the particle of swan's-down he had found in the chair, gentlyblew it so that it skimmed across the table under her eyes.
'It looks as if it came off a lady's dress,' he said idly.
'Off a lady's fan,' she replied.
'O, off a fan?'
'Yes; off mine.'
At her reply Somerset stretched out his hand for the swan's-down, andput it carefully in his pocket-book; whereupon Paula, moulding hercherry-red lower lip beneath her upper one in arch self-consciousness athis act, turned away to the window, and after a pause said softly as shelooked out, 'Why did you not accept our invitation to dinner?'
It was impossible to explain why. He impulsively drew near andconfronted her, and said, 'I hope you pardon me?'
'I don't know that I can quite do that,' answered she, with ever solittle reproach. 'I know why you did not come--you were mortified at notbeing asked sooner! But it was purely by an accident that you receivedyour invitation so late. My aunt sent the others by post, but asyours was to be delivered by hand it was left on her table, and wasoverlooked.'
Surely he could not doubt her words; those nice friendly accents werethe embodiment of truth itself.
'I don't mean to make a serious complaint,' she added, in injured tones,showing that she did. 'Only we had asked nearly all of them to meetyou, as the son of your illustrious father, whom many of my friends knowpersonally; and--they were disappointed.'
It was now time for Somerset to be genuinely grieved at what he haddone. Paula seemed so good and honourable at that moment that he couldhave laid down his life for her.
'When I was dressed, I came in here to ask you to reconsider yourdecision,' she continued; 'or to meet us in the drawing-room if youcould not possibly be ready for dinner. But you were gone.'
'And you sat down in that chair, didn't you, darling, and remained therea long time musing!' he thought. But that he did not say.
'I am very sorry,' he murmured.
'Will you make amends by coming to our garden party? I ask you the veryfirst.'
'I will,' replied Somerset. To add that it would give him greatpleasure, etc., seemed an absurdly weak way of expressing his feelings,and he said no more.
'It is on the nineteenth. Don't forget the day.'
He met her eyes in such a way that, if she were woman, she must haveseen it to mean as plainly as words: 'Do I look as if I could forgetanything you say?'
She must, indeed, have understood much more by this time--the whole ofhis open secret. But he did not understand her. History has revealedthat a supernumerary lover or two is rarely considered a disadvantage bya woman, from queen to cottage-girl; and the thought made him pause.