CHAPTER XXIX.
BARMECIDE'S FEAST, AND A BROWN STUDY.
"Control, give, sympathise: these three must be learnt and practised: self-control, charity, and sympathy."
_Oriental Saying._
Althea was glad of a few minutes' quiet to recover herself, for she feltagitated and shaken. The sight of that comfortless sick-room, andEverard's worn face and haggard eyes, oppressed and saddened her.
A perfect passion of pity for him and his motherless girls swept overher as she closed the door. She had left the room in answer to awistful, pleading look from him; her presence there evidently troubledhim, and he was unwilling for her to run any risk. It was kind, it wasfriendly of him, she thought. Everard always had a good heart; but atthat moment her impulsive, highly wrought nature only yearned to showher sympathy in action. In spite of her sensitive nerves, she wasconstitutionally brave, and had no fear of any form of illness. "Weshall only die when our time comes," was a favourite saying of hers, andneither she nor Doreen shirked anything that met them in their dailypath of duty.
Mollie was very ill, there was little doubt of that, and she wouldprobably be worse. The sight of the sweet, flushed face, and theremembrance of the poor, thick voice would haunt her, she knew; andthere was Waveney----But at this point the sound of a hansom driving uprapidly dispersed her gloomy thoughts, and the next moment Lord Ralstonentered the room.
"We have got her!" he said, triumphantly,--"Nurse Helena, the best andcleverest nurse in the Institution; and she will be here in ten minutes.I saw the matron, and there is another one coming at eleven to-morrow. Ishall go round to Dr. Duncan's house presently, and have a talk withhim. We must have Sir Hindley Richmond down, I am determined on that."
"Why not wait for to-morrow?" returned Althea, quietly. "You are soimpetuous, Moritz. There is no need for you to see Dr. Duncan to-night.Poor dear Mollie is very ill--I have just seen her; but good nursing andthe proper remedies may do wonders. Wait until to-morrow--it will be farbetter; and tell me what has become of Noel."
"He is up in his room putting up his things. I am going to take himround to Eaton Square directly. I shall stay there myself for the nextweek or two. And you really saw her, Althea? Is she--does she look verybad?" Moritz's anxiety was so intense he could hardly bring out thewords.
"She is evidently in great pain," she returned, slowly. "It isimpossible to judge at this stage. But she was able to speak to me.Moritz, she asked me to give you this; it was put away in a drawer, andshe told me where to find it!" and Althea handed him the little whiteparcel.
"For me! are you sure it is for me?" he asked, breathlessly. But Althea,with a faint smile, only pointed to the direction, for, in Mollie'ssprawling handwriting, was very lightly inscribed: "Mr. Ingram, withMollie Ward's good wishes." Nothing could be more correct or proper.Then why did Lord Ralston's eyes brighten so strangely, and why did asudden smile of tender amusement come to his lips? Because his keenscrutiny had detected something that Althea had not perceived--twohalf-obliterated letters before the "good": "lo"--he could make that outplainly. "With Mollie Ward's love"--that was what she had meant towrite, until her maidenly scruples, and perhaps some suddenself-consciousness, induced her to change the inscription.
Moritz walked off into the inner room with his treasure. Would Mollieguess how her lover's heart beat almost to suffocation as he looked atthe white vellum book with its clustering pansies?
"Little darling," he kept saying over and over to himself, "she musthave known they were my favourite flowers." And then he looked at thefirst page and saw his name prettily illuminated. "Pansies, that's forthoughts," was the motto under it; and one or two pansies were droopingloosely underneath.
It was a dainty remembrance. Mollie had evidently not spared either timeor thought for her friend. It was to be a token of her gratitude for allthe pleasure Monsieur Blackie had given her, and for all his lavishgifts. But even Mollie could not guess, in the faintest degree, theintense joy that pansy pocket-book gave Ingram.
As he replaced it in its cover his eyes were dim, and his honest heartwas recording its vows. If Mollie lived, her life's happiness, as far ashuman power could effect it, should be his task and joy. "My owndarling, you are beginning to love me," he thought; "and now----" andthen there was a stab of pain through the young man's heart, for howcould he tell how long it would be before he saw "the angel laughing outof Mollie's eyes" again? When he went back into the other room he foundNoel there. The nurse had arrived and had gone up to see her patient.And presently Everard came down to them.
He seemed a little surprised when Althea told him that Noel was going tostay with her cousin. "Moritz wants him, and they will be company foreach other," she said. "It will be easier for him to go from there toSt. Paul's by-and-bye." And as this was reasonable, Mr. Ward offered noobjection. Then, at her suggestion, he sat down and wrote a few tender,urgent words to Waveney.
Althea took her leave after this. She had made another fruitless attemptto dissuade Moritz from going to Dr. Duncan; he was utterlyunmanageable. "I mean to make a clean breast to him," he said,recklessly. "If he is a sensible man, he won't want any explanation. Ishall tell him that Mr. Ward has influential friends, and that they wisha second opinion. Why, good heavens, Althea"--working himself up to apitch of nervous excitement, "how do we know what that poor child needs,and that only money can buy?" And then Althea, with a vivid remembranceof that bare, dingy-looking room, wisely held her peace.
As she drove off she wondered vaguely, but without much interest, howMoritz was to keep up his masquerading at Eaton Square. Noel was asharp-witted lad, as he had himself said, and there had been noopportunity of coaching the servants. An old retainer of the family, whohad been the old viscount's butler, took care of the house when it wasnot occupied, and his wife and one or two maids kept a few rooms alwaysin order. Moritz, who was a thorough Bohemian, had a habit of running upto town for a night or two as the fancy seized him, and he seldomannounced his intention beforehand. More than once Mrs. Barham had beenat her wits' end to make his lordship comfortable, but she soon got usedto his odd ways, and now, when Moritz arrived at his town house, he wassure of finding his dining-room and library and a couple of bedrooms infirst-rate order. Althea need not have wondered if she had listened tothe brief conversation that took place between Moritz and Noel on theirway to Eaton Square.
It was rather late, for Moritz, like an obstinate man, had had his way;he had left Noel in the cab and had seen the doctor alone. Though Dr.Duncan was a sensible man and no toady, he was much impressed by LordRalston's impetuous generosity. He could not deny, he said, that therewere many things that his patient required, though he had forborne toname them, as he knew Mr. Ward had small means. Sir Hindley Richmond!Oh, certainly, he had no objection to meet him; but there was no needfor that at present. He would keep it in mind; and Mr. Ward must beconsulted. And then, after a little more talk, and a promise on thedoctor's part to respect his confidence, the interview ceased. Moritzfelt a little happier when he jumped into the hansom again. He thoughtDr. Duncan had spoken hopefully of the case; and then, as he looked atthe list in his hand, he foresaw a delightful morning's work before him.
To rush from shop to shop, to pay the highest price possible for eacharticle, to order in fabulous quantities of the needed commodities,would be purest joy to him. If Mollie recovered she would find herselfstocked for a year or two with eau-de-cologne and other good things.
"What an age you have been!" grumbled Noel. The poor lad was too coldand hungry and miserable to mind his manners. "Wasn't the old chap in?"
"Oh, yes, he was in," replied Ingram, vaguely. And then he pushed upthe little trap-door and told the man to drive to Number Fourteen, EatonSquare. "I hope Mrs. Barham will be able to give us something to eat,"he continued. "You see, she does not expect us, and there may be nothingin the house."
Noel's face grew rather long at this.
"Is it your house? Do you live there?" he
asked, curiously.
"Yes," returned Ingram, "It is my house, but I am not often there. Ihave another house in the country." And then, rather abruptly, "Noel,lad, can you keep a secret--honour bright, you know, and all that sortof thing?"
Then Noel looked up in his face a little suspiciously, and there was aknowing twinkle in his eyes.
"Mum's the word," he said, quickly, "but I know what you are going tosay. Your name isn't Ingram."
"Oh, yes, it is," returned the other, rather amused at this, "only Ihave another. It is the family name. My father was Colonel Ingram, anduntil eighteen months ago I was plain Mr. Ingram."
"And now?" and there was growing excitement in Noel's voice.
"Well, the only difference is an old cousin died, and so I becameViscount Ralston. Why, my boy," with a little chuckling laugh, "I was aspoor as a church mouse before that--poorer than your father. I paintedbad pictures that would not sell, and lived in a tin shanty, holdhard--don't interrupt me, for we shall be at my diggings directly. Iwant you to understand that for the present, at Cleveland Terrace and atthe Red House, I am still Mr. Ingram. I have my reasons, and some dayyou shall know them; but I want you to promise that you will not betrayme." Then Noel, feeling utterly bewildered, and not a little mystified,nodded an assent to this, and the next moment they stopped before one ofthe big, gloomy-looking houses in Eaton Square. A tall, grey-haired oldman admitted them.
"I have taken you by surprise, Barham," observed Lord Ralston,carelessly; "and you see I have brought a friend."
"Yes, my lord," returned Barham, tranquilly. "And I am glad to say thereis a fire in the library; but there is something wrong with thedining-room chimney, and the workmen have been there."
"All right. Just pay the cabman." And then Lord Ralston led the way tothe library. It was a large room, and the firelight played fitfully overthe carved oak furniture and red morocco chairs. The next moment thesoft electric light enabled Noel to see his surroundings more plainly.Since his visit to the Red House his views had been considerablyenlarged, and he at once told himself that this room beat Miss Harford'slibrary hollow. Lord Ralston left him for a few moments. When hereturned he said, with something of his old whimsical dryness,--
"I have just been interviewing my worthy housekeeper, and have left hermetaphorically tearing her hair in the larder. She tells me that thereis literally nothing in the house, so I suppose we may expectBarmecide's feast."
Noel nodded. He was well acquainted with the story of "The Barber'sSixth Brother," and quite understood the allusion. But the youthfulpangs of hunger were so overmastering that he murmured something aboutbread-and-cheese, and then coloured up to the roots of his hair, fearingthat he had taken a liberty.
"Oh, Mrs. Barham is a woman of resources; she will do better for us thanthat," was the indifferent reply. "But we must exercise our patience. Iwill take you up to your room now."
And Noel presently found himself ensconced in a most luxurious chamber,with a bright fire, and everything prepared for his comfort.
"It is like the 'Arabian Nights,'" muttered the lad, when his host hadleft him. "To think of my cheek--Monsieur Blackie, indeed!" And thenNoel sat on the edge of the chair and chuckled. "A viscount! GreatScott! Lord Ralston! My word, how the pater and old Storm-and-Stresswill open their eyes! To think that 'the wobbly one' will be my ladysome day!" And here Noel gave a long, low whistle, proving that, inspite of that vulgarity, inherent in the English school-boy, the embryobarrister had his wits about him. "It does not take much eyesight to seea blank wall--especially when it is painted white, and the sun shines,"he had observed once to Waveney. "Any fool can see that chap is deadnuts on Mollie"--which was forcible if a trifle coarse.
When Noel found his way back, with some difficulty, to the library, hesaw a charming little dinner-table laid in readiness. Mrs. Barhamevidently knew her business well. The fish and cutlets, and sweetomelette, were all excellent; and a wonderful dessert followed.
Lord Ralston was most kind and hospitable, but he was hardly as good acompanion as usual; he seemed absent, and was continually falling into abrown study. When dinner was over, and coffee had been brought, he gaveup all attempt to be sociable. He even invited Noel to help himself to abook, and for the remainder of the evening Lord Ralston sat in silence,with his eyes fixed on the beech-logs, which were burning and sputteringso merrily.
It was nearly dinner-time at the Red House when Althea reached home.Doreen, who was already dressed, was waiting for her in the library.Waveney was still upstairs.
There was a short and hurried explanation on Althea's part, and a fewejaculations of pity from Doreen. Then she followed her sister upstairsand sent Peachy away.
It was one of their pretty sisterly ways to wait on each otheroccasionally, and Althea, who was accustomed to this loving ministry,took it calmly and as a matter of course. Doreen wanted to talk to her,that was all.
"I am so sorry you had such a wretched afternoon," observed Doreen,affectionately. "Poor dear, you were hardly fit for it. How was Mr.Ward? I am afraid he will be dreadfully anxious."
"Anxious! I should think so from his looks. I should say he had had nosleep. Do you know, Dorrie, I have discovered something to-day; dearlyas Everard loves all his children, it is Waveney who is the apple of hiseye."
"He loves her better than his pretty Mollie? Oh, no, Althea."
"Yes, dear, I am sure of it, and I cannot say I am greatly surprised.Mollie is a dear, sweet child, but Waveney is more human and_spirituelle_, her nature has greater depth. Oh, there is the gong.Please help me to arrange this ruff. Dorrie, you must do all the talkingat dinner. Waveney must have no hint of anything until we havefinished--there is the shopping and your purchases; you must make themost of those."
"So you went out, after all?" was Waveney's first remark, when grace hadbeen said; and her voice was rather reproachful. "And you promised thatyou would have a day's rest!"
"It hardly amounted to a promise, I think," returned Althea, with aforced smile. "One never knows what may turn up in the day's work, andI had to go out on an errand of charity. Well, how have you enjoyed yourshopping expedition?" And this question launched Waveney at once into alengthy description of all their purchases.
"It was too late to think of going to Cleveland Terrace," she finished,regretfully, "so we had tea at Fuller's instead. The cakes weredelicious. Oh, how I longed for Mollie to be with us! She does so lovebuying pretty things."
"Oh, I forgot," interposed Doreen, abruptly. "Mrs. Craven was atMarshall & Snellgrove's, buying things for Augusta's _trousseau_. We hadquite a long talk, in the mantle department. I have ordered a nicewaterproof cloak, Althea; it is Harris tweed, and your favourite grey."And so on, discussing the merits of each article purchased until dinnerwas over, and, with an unmistakable look of relief, Althea rose from thetable.