Under the Country Sky
CHAPTER VI
WHEN ROYALTY COMES
"It was so good of you to ask me," said Jeannette in a voice of muchsweetness, as she put out her hand to her cousin. Then she turned to theman in livery who stood at attention by the door of the car. "You maytake this coat back with you, Dennis," she said; and she let him removefrom her shoulders the long, fur-lined cloak she had worn for the Marchdrive. He gathered together her belongings, as she walked up the pathwith Georgiana, and he afterward went back for a long motor trunk whichhad been brought upon the back of the car. Besides this was a largerreceptacle of black leather which he brought and deposited in the hall.
"Dennis can take all these to my room for me," said Jeannette, with moreappreciation of the situation than Georgiana had expected. Dennis didnot look altogether pleased with this task, but he performed it and wasrewarded by a smile from his young mistress, which promised to soothehis injured dignity at some future time.
Mr. Warne, rising slowly from the armchair as Jeannette was broughtinto his presence, looked keenly into the face of his sister's daughter.Her fine clothing was nothing to him; he could not have told what shewore; but he was interested in learning what she might be, herself. Itwas something of a test for any stranger, the meeting of that clear lookof his, kindly though it was sure to be. With all his appearance offrailty and exhaustion, one felt instinctively that whatever hadhappened to the body, the mind was intact and resolute with energy, thejudgment swift and accurate.
As they all took tea together Georgiana could feel their guest strivingto adjust herself to her entertainers. Her manner was very charming,though a little languid, a little weary, as if she were tired with herlong drive--and with other things besides. But there was that about herwhich proclaimed her unmistakably the gentlewoman, and this was good toknow. She got on well with her newly discovered uncle, and he with her.Indeed, the simplicity and straight-forwardness of Father Davy's mannerwith every one, his keen observation, his ready imagination, would haveput him instantly on an equal footing with the most exalted of hisfellow-creatures. It could do no less with his niece, no matter how newto her his type of man might be, nor how new to him the fashion of herspeech and smile.
This was a pleasant beginning. But if Georgiana, before her guestarrived, had thought the old house shabby, she felt it now to bepositively shambling. She struggled mightily against this attitude ofmind, knowing that it was unworthy of her, but, as she led thiswonderful, winsome creature, whom she knew to be accustomed only to thesoftnesses of life, up over the worn stair carpeting to the room she hadprepared for her, she was wondering how she herself had ever conceivedthe preposterous idea of inviting her cousin to visit her; the task ofmaking this daughter of luxury comfortable, even for a fortnight, seemedsuddenly so impossible.
"Oh, how very attractive!" exclaimed Jeannette, as she was taken intothe room over which Georgiana had spent so much thought. "I shall loveit here!"
That was to be her attitude, thought Georgiana. Being exceedinglywell-bred, the guest was prepared to like everything that was done forher. Though this was precisely what was to be expected and desired,Georgiana found herself already irritated by it--most unreasonably, itmust be admitted.
"I'm a jealous goose!" said she sternly to herself, and fell to helpingher cousin. There was something appealing about the girl's helplessness,because she evidently tried hard not to show it. As the two lifted thegarments from the carefully packed trunk trays it was Georgiana whofound the right places for them in clothespress and bureau drawers. Shehad seldom seen, never handled, such exquisite apparel, from the pilesof sheer, convent-embroidered linen to the frocks and wraps and negligeswhich went into retirement on the padded hangers she had provided. Sherealized, too, that elaborate as seemed to her the array of clothingJeannette had thought it necessary to bring for her visit, it wasprobable that the girl herself had felt that she was having packed onlythe simplest of her wardrobe and the least that a civilized being coulddo with.
It was when Jeannette herself spread forth upon the littledressing-table--cleverly contrived out of an old washstand, a long andnarrow mirror, and some odds and ends of muslin and lace--the articlesshe was accustomed to use every day of her life, but which might havebeen matched only in the homes of princes, that the young hostess foundit hardest to control the pang of envy which smote her. Such silver,such crystal, such genuine ivory--and such sheer beauty of design andfinish! Yet Jeannette was almost awkward in her disposal of the imposingarray, saying with a laugh that she really couldn't remember how thethings went at home, but that it didn't matter in the least.
She set about removing her traveling clothes as if she never had beenwaited upon in her life. It was only when she failed to discover how shewas put together that Georgiana had to come to the rescue.
"It's dreadfully stupid of me," protested Jeannette, her delicate cheeksflushing, "but I simply can't find that absurd hook."
It was then that Georgiana frankly took the situation by its horns anddid away with all embarrassment.
"You must let me help you, Jean," she said, finishing the unhooking withease, "whenever you need it. I shall love to do it, for you might haverather a bad time trying to do everything for yourself. There youare--and please call me when you are ready to be fastened into yourother frock. I'm just around the corner, and there's nobody else at homenow."
Before supper was served, Georgiana prepared her cousin to meet "theboarder." Not on any account would she have let his presence beaccounted for on the score of his being a guest in the house; not evenwould she call him a "paying guest."
"Mr. Jefferson came to us through a letter from a friend. He said hewanted a quiet place to work in, away from all interruptions by friendsor claims of any sort. He is writing a book, and we see as little of himas if he were not in the house--except at the table. I think you willlike him. It's so long since we have had a man in the house we're notyet used to it, but on the whole it's rather comforting."
"How interesting--to have a book being written in the house! Is it factor fiction, do you know?"
"I don't imagine it's fiction. He has piles of reference books, and agreat deal of mail, and--somehow--he doesn't look as if he wrotefiction."
Yet, as Mr. Jefferson came into the dining-room that night, Georgianafound herself wondering why she should think he did not look as if hewould write fiction--not foolish fiction, certainly, but sensiblefiction, made possible by keen observation and set off by a capacity forquiet--possibly even biting--humour. He looked at least as if he mightwrite essays, thoughtful, clever essays, full of searching analyses ofhis fellow human creatures, of their oddities, their hopes, theiraspirations, their sins, and their virtues. Or--was he, after all,writing on scientific matters--facts, pure and simple; inferences,deductions, conclusions from facts? She wondered, more than she had yetdone, as to the nature of his work.
"I think Mr. Jefferson is delightful," said Jeannette cordially, besidethe living-room fire, when supper was over, and the boarder, afterlingering in the living-room doorway for a minute, but declining on thescore of work Mr. Warne's invitation to enter, had gone his wayupstairs. On this first night Georgiana had let the disordered diningtable wait, and had accompanied the others to the fireside as if she hada dozen servants to attend to her household affairs. "After this, shewon't notice so much," she had argued with herself. "I don't want tohave her offering to help. I don't mean to do a thing differently on heraccount, but I can't help--well, _shying_ at the dishes the very firstminute after supper!"
"A man of fine intellect," Father Davy responded to his niece'sobservation, "and accustomed to think worthy thoughts. One can see thatat once. It is a real pleasure to have him here. It is good for us, too.Georgiana and I were growing narrow before he came. He has broadened us;we get his point of view on subjects that we thought had been disposedof for all time--and find them not disposed of at all."
Before the moment arrived when, in Georgiana's mind, the waiting work inthe kitchen must be done without
further postponement, the front doorwas besieged by James Stuart. A basket of late winter apples in hand, hecame in, looking the image of vigorous youth, his well-set-up figureshowing its best in the irreproachable clothes he always wore when hisday's work was over, his manner, as usual, that of the friend of thehouse. He had not received Georgiana's permission to come in upon thisfirst evening of Miss Crofton's visit, but he had taken his welcome forgranted and was not disappointed in receiving it. It was impossible notto be glad to see his smiling face, for his good looks were backed by acapacity for adapting himself to whatever company he might find himselfin, though it should be of the most distinguished.
Presenting Stuart to her cousin, it occurred to Georgiana to wonder asto the impression each must make upon the other. Jeannette was wearing afrock of a peculiar shade of blue which the firelight and lamplight,instead of dulling, seemed to make almost to glow. It was the sort ofapparently simple attire which is the product of high art, and in it,sitting just where all lights seemed to play together upon hair andcheek and perfect throat, the visitor was, as Georgiana owned toherself, certainly worth looking at.
She left them together presently and went off to the kitchen. Here shecovered from view with a big pinafore her own undeniably attractivefigure and fell upon her task, proceeding to dispatch it with all thespeed compatible with quiet. She had cleared the table, and, havingarranged her dishes in orderly piles, was just filling her dishpan withthe steaming water which made suds as it fell upon the soap, when afamiliar footstep was heard upon the bare kitchen floor.
Georgiana looked over her shoulder, words of reproof upon her lips:"Well--having come without an invitation, the least you can do is tostay where you belong and entertain the guest."
"There's a characteristic welcome for you!" The intruder seemed in nowise daunted by his reception, but picked up a dish towel and stood atease, waiting the placing of the first tumbler in the rinsing pan. "Andwhere should I belong, if not standing by a chum in distress?"
"I'm not in distress, if you please."
"Don't mind washing dishes while the guest sits by the fire?"
"Not a bit--more than usual," Georgiana amended honestly.
"Why don't you pile 'em up and let 'em wait till morning?"
"I shouldn't sleep for thinking of them."
"My word, but you're a hustler! I don't know whether I can keep up."
"Don't try. Go back to the other room, please, Jimps. You can be of realuse there."
"Well, I like that!"
As he wiped away assiduously, Stuart surveyed his companion's face inprofile. It belied the dictatorial words, for Georgiana was smiling. Hercheeks were of a splendid colour, her dark hair drooped over theprettiest white forehead in the world, and the whole outline of her facewas distracting. Here was a lamplight effect which rivalled the one inthe living-room, though it was thrown from a common kitchen lamp,unshaded, and fell upon a figure in a red-and-white checked apron.Georgiana glanced at her self-appointed assistant and encountered theflash of an eye which told her that, however Stuart objected to herwords, he liked the look of what he saw.
"Isn't Jeannette a beauty?" she inquired hastily, and plunged her handsinto her pan with such energy that she sent a splash of hot, soapy waterupon Stuart's cheek. He surreptitiously wiped it off with a corner ofhis dish towel.
"She sure is," he assented cordially. "I wasn't prepared for quite sucha looker. She doesn't seem to have brought with her that proud andhaughty expression she had in the Sunday papers."
"She's a dear, and not in the least proud and haughty. I'm going toenjoy her visit, I know. If I can only make her enjoy it!"
"I'll be glad to help," Stuart offered. "This isn't a very promisingtime of year for the country, but if you think she'd like any of thegood times we can give her here, I'll get them up."
"Our sort of good times is just what I do want to give her. She's hadenough of her own kind and needs the diversion. What would you get up,for instance?"
"I'll take overnight to think it out, but I can promise you it'll be anoutdoor affair. Would she be up to any kind of a tramp, do you think?"
"Oh, no, Jimps! Not yet, at any rate."
"All right. I'll harness up my best team and carry her most of the way.We must have another man, I suppose. Shall we ask the literary light,just for a lark? It would give tone to the company to have him along,eh?"
"He probably wouldn't go."
"Don't you fool yourself. A fellow who covers as many miles a day as hedoes will jump at it, no matter how important his next chapter is. Doyou know, I'll have to admit I rather like him since I tramped a coupleof miles in his company the other day. There are a lot of interestingideas in his head, and I got him to give me the benefit of a few ofthem. Drew him out, you know. Though to be strictly honest"--with alaugh--"when I thought it over afterward I wasn't exactly sure that hehadn't drawn me out rather more than I drew him. Anyhow, the interestseemed to be mutual, and that flattered me a bit. It's perfectly evidentthat he's a great student of affairs."
They finished the work at a gallop. Georgiana slipped off her pinafore,and Stuart, who had insisted on waiting for her, hung it upon itsaccustomed nail.
"Do you suppose pretty cousin ever wore one?" he queried.