tended to reassure her. She laughed and coloured slightly as sherepeated her very commonplace, little observation.
"I was only saying that it feels ever so much colder here than farthersouth!" she said.
"You've come from the south," he responded, with some appearance ofinterest. "Have you travelled f r to-day?"
"Oh, no, not really very far," she replied. "After all, one can'ttravel very far in England; but any cross-country journey makes you feelas if you had--it wastes so much time, though we fitted in our trainspretty well."
"Is your husband with you?" her companion rejoined, in reality for thesake of drawing her out, for he knew perfectly well that Duke Headfortwas still in India, and likely to be there for some time. For, as thehousekeeper had mentioned to Philippa, the elder Mr Gresham was a veryfrequent visitor at Wyverston, and intimately acquainted with the insand outs of the Headfort family affairs.
Evelyn started slightly.
"I shouldn't have said `we,'" she thought to herself. "Oh, no," shesaid, aloud, "I'm quite alone here, and it is my first visit to thispart of the country. It is considered very--well, I don't exactly knowwhat to say--not picturesque, I suppose, but not commonplace?"
"Far from commonplace. It is bleak in some directions--bleak and bare;but the moors are very fine, and at some seasons their colouring iswonderful. And the stretch of the Wildering Hills to the west is veryimposing. You will think it so, I have no doubt, as you come from--" Hestopped, and went on again:
"Did I not understand you to say that you live in a flat country?"
"Well, yes," said Evelyn, though she did not remember having volunteeredany information of the kind. "---shire _is_ flat, certainly, and wherewe live there is no beauty except good trees. My sister," shecontinued, feeling as if she were talking very inanely, and with anervous dread of letting the conversation drop, "was staying lately inWestshire. She was delighted with it. She said part of the routecoming back was as pretty as--as Switzerland."--"How idiotic thatsounds!" she said to herself.
But her companion appeared rather to appreciate her remarks.
"Westshire," he repeated. "Yes, some parts of Westshire are charminglypicturesque. May I ask what part of the country your sister was stayingin?"
"I don't know what part it was that she thought so pretty," said Evelyn,gratified by his interest. "The place she was staying at was Dorriford.It belongs to the Lermonts--cousins of ours."
"Oh, indeed," said Mr Gresham, thawing more and more; "I knowDorriford--at least I was there the other day. I drove over with somefriends in the neighbourhood. Your sister's name is?" and he glanced ather questioningly.
"Raynsworth," said Evelyn, quickly.
"Exactly," rejoined her companion. "I remember her perfectly. But youare not like each other--Strikingly unlike, even; for Miss Raynsworth isdark--dark and tall. I remember."
An appalling misgiving seized Evelyn. He "remembered her perfectly;"perhaps, by no means improbably, suggested her sisterly pride, he hadbeen struck by Philippa's somewhat uncommon style of beauty. Why, inheaven's name, had she drawn the conversation round to Philippa at all,the very last topic she should have chosen to talk about while atWyverston? And fearful lest Mr Gresham's watchful eyes should detectthe least trace of confusion, she forced herself to smile and to saylightly:
"What a coincidence! I must remember to mention it to my sister when Igo home." Then, somewhat at random, she plunged suddenly into some ofher Indian reminiscences--a subject she usually avoided as hackneyed andcommonplace.
Mr Gresham seemed somewhat perplexed, though he listened courteously,but without his former interest.
"I have never been in India," he said, with a touch of languor, "and Idon't think I want to go. Were you born there? I've often noticed thatpeople who were born there have a sort of liking for the place," as ifthe great empire of the east were some insignificant village.
"Oh, no," said Evelyn, "we are all quite English, and I don't think I dolike India. I am not very fond of travelling. I fear I am the lazy oneof the family."
"Your sister certainly struck me as very vigorous," began Mr Greshamagain; "the Lermonts were talking of wonderful expeditions they had beenmaking while she was with them."
"Oh, why did I say I had a sister," thought Evelyn, in desperation, "andwhy did I ever give in to this mad escapade of Philippa's? I feelcertain it is going to land us in some dreadful hobble," andunconsciously to herself her expression grew so tragic that Mr Greshambegan to wonder what in the world was the matter.
Just then, to Evelyn's enormous relief, came a happy interruption. Avoice from the opposite side of the table, which was not a very wideone, addressed her by name.
Evelyn looked up in surprise, forgetting for the moment that as all theguests had been introduced to her, the owner of the voice had everyreason to know who she was.
"I hope, Mrs Headfort," he said, "that my dog did not really frightenyou to-day? He is very demonstratively affectionate when he takes afancy, and he had made great friends with--with your maid."
"`Out of the frying-pan into the fire,'" thought the unfortunate Evelyn;"this time I must brave it out."
"Is your dog a dachs?" she said, quickly. "Oh, yes, I remember seeinghim; he tried to jump into the carriage, but I wasn't really frightened,only startled for a moment. Is he with you here? You must introducehim formally, if so. I love dachshunds--our favourite dog was a dachs.He died--some years ago. We can hardly bear to talk of it even now."
A perplexed look stole over Michael Gresham's face at her words. Was hedreaming? or going through one of those strange experiences familiar tous all, in which it seems as if we were living for a second time throughsome event, or train of events, often of the most trivial, which hasalready happened?
No; the conviction he now felt that words almost similar to those MrsHeadfort had just uttered had quite recently been addressed to him, wastoo strong, too unmistakable to have anything of fancy about it.
"By Jove," he thought, "it was the girl in the railway carriage--hermaid--who told me the very same thing about a dachshund she had had. Ican't make it out. They didn't seem to be talking like mistress andmaid when Solomon jumped at them, though I didn't hear clearly what theywere saying. There was something inconsistent about the girl from thefirst. Well, it's no business of mine." Then, conscious that Evelyn'seyes were still directed towards him, he threw off his hesitation andanswered lightly:
"I hope the association will not be too painful to prevent your makingfriends with my Solomon. Not that I don't sympathise in the loss of adog--it's a terrible thing."
"Don't let my cousin get on to dogs, Mrs Headfort, his own dogsespecially," interrupted the elder Gresham; "he'll go on for hours aboutthat Solomon of his, I warn you."
Evelyn smiled gently. In her heart she was not very devoted to dogs.Bonny and Vanda were much more adorable pets. Nor was she anxious inany way to grow more familiar with the dachshund's master.
"He must be rather a stupid young man," she thought, as she glancedacross the table at Michael's somewhat rugged face. "His cousinevidently thinks him so, and all the better for us if he is notobservant. And, oh! how plain-looking he is compared to this one!"
For the moment, however, she had not much opportunity of admiring herneighbour's clear-cut features. For her host, having done his duty sofar by the elderly dowager on his right hand, now felt free to turn hisattention to his cousin's pretty young wife. A kindly question or twoabout her "Duke" and his doings--even more, some allusion to theincomparable Bonny, set Evelyn perfectly at her ease. The conversationwhich ensued, though of the liveliest interest to herself and notwithout charm for the squire himself, naturally left her orthodoxcompanion somewhat out in the cold. For on his other side was placed acertain Miss Worthing, a person whom he would have characterised as a"bread-and-butter miss," whose timid attempt at breaking the silence metwith but faint success, for all the answers that Mr Greshamcondescended to make to her were monosyllabic and
discouraging in theextreme.
It was not this first evening that young Mrs Headfort discovered howmuch honour had been done her by her companion's animation, though asshe rose to follow in the file of women on their way to thedrawing-room, it did strike her that Mr Gresham's face looked bored inthe extreme.
"How I do wish he could know Philippa and she him!" she thought. "Shewould be just the person to shake him out of that silent _hauteur_, andI do believe he was struck by her at Dorriford. If only she