CHAPTER IV
"Some tea, Timothy?" said Lady Mary.
"If you please, my dear," said Sir Timothy, dropping his letters intothe box.
"I am afraid the tea will be little better than poison, brother," saidLady Belstone, in warning tones; "it has stood so long."
"Perhaps dear Mary intends to order fresh tea, Isabella," said MissCrewys.
"It hasn't stood so _very_ long," said Lady Mary, looking appealinglyat Sir Timothy; "and you know Ash is always cross if we order freshtea."
"Excuse me, my love," said Miss Crewys. "I am the last to wish totrouble poor Ash unnecessarily, but the tea waited for ten minutesbefore you came down."
"My dear Mary," said Sir Timothy, "will you never learn to bepunctual? No; I will take it as it is. Poor Ash has enough to do, asGeorgina truly says."
Lady Mary sighed rather impatiently, and it occurred to John Crewysthat Sir Timothy spoke to his wife exactly as he might have addresseda troublesome child. His tone was gentler than usual, but this Johndid not know.
"I should have liked to take a turn about the grounds with you," saidSir Timothy to his cousin, "if it had been possible; but I am afraidit is getting too dark now."
"Surely there will be time enough to-morrow morning for that,brother," said Lady Belstone.
Sir Timothy had walked to the oriel window, but he turned away as heanswered her.
"I may be otherwise occupied to-morrow."
"But I hope the opportunity may arise before very long," said John,cheerfully. "I should like to explore these woods."
"You will have to come with _me_, then," said Lady Mary, smiling."Timothy hates walking uphill, and I should love to show our beautifulviews to a stranger."
"I do not like you to tire yourself, my dear," said Sir Timothy.
"A walk through Barracombe woods means simply a climb, Mary," saidLady Belstone; "and you are not strong."
"I am perfectly robust, Isabella. Do allow me at least the use of mylimbs," said Lady Mary, impatiently.
"No woman, certainly no _lady_, can be called _robust_," said MissCrewys, severely.
The sudden clanging of a bell changed the conversation.
"Visitors. How tiresome!" said Lady Mary.
"My dear Mary!" said Sir Timothy.
"But I know it can't be anybody pleasant, Timothy," said his wife,with rather a mischievous twinkle, "for I owe calls to all the nicepeople, and it's only the dull ones who come over and over again."
"You _owe_ calls, Mary!" said Lady Belstone, in horrified tones.
"I am afraid," said Miss Crewys, considerately lowering her voice asthe butler and footman crossed the hall to the outer vestibule, "thatdear Mary is more than a little remiss in civility to her neighbours."
"My dear admiral never permitted me to postpone returning a call formore than a week. Royalty, he always said, the same day; ordinarypeople within a week," said Lady Belstone.
"When royalty calls I certainly will return the visit the same day,"said Lady Mary, petulantly. "But I cannot spend my whole life drivingalong the high-roads from one house to another. I hate driving, as youknow, Isabella."
"What did Providence create carriages for but to be driven in?" saidLady Belstone.
"You will give John a wrong impression of our worthy neighbours,Mary," said Sir Timothy, pompously. "Personally, I am always glad tosee them."
"But you don't have to return their calls, Timothy," said Lady Mary.
The canon inadvertently laughed. Sir Timothy looked annoyed. MissCrewys whispered to Lady Belstone, unheard save by the doctor--
"How very odd and flippant poor Mary is to-night--worse than usual!What can it be?"
"It is just the presence of a strange gentleman that is upsetting her,poor thing," said her sister, in the same whisper. "Her head is easilyturned. We had better take no notice."
The doctor muttered something emphatic beneath his breath.
"Mrs. and Miss Hewel," said Ash, advancing into the hall.
"Is it only you and Sarah, after all? What a relief! I thought it wasvisitors," cried Lady Mary, coming forward to greet them very kindlyand warmly. "Did you come across in the ferry?"
"No, indeed. You know how I dislike the ferry. I have the long drivehome still before me. But we were so close to Barracombe, at theGilberts' tea-party. I thought we should be certain to meet youthere," said Mrs. Hewel, in rather reproachful tones. "Sarah, ofcourse, wanted to go back in the ferry, but I am always doublyfrightened at night--and in one's best clothes. It was quite a largeparty."
"I'm afraid I forgot all about it," said Lady Mary, with aconscience-stricken glance at her husband.
"I hope you sent the carriage round to the stables?" said Sir Timothy.
"No, no; we mustn't stop a minute. But I couldn't help just poppingin--so very long since I've seen you--and all this happening at once,"said Mrs. Hewel. She was a large, stout woman, with breathless mannerand plaintive voice. "And I wanted to show you Sarah in her firstgrown-up clothes, and tell you about _her_ too," she added.
"Bless me!" said Sir Timothy. "You don't mean to say little Sarah isgrown up."
"Oh yes, dear Sir Timothy; she grew up the day before yesterday," saidMrs. Hewel.
"Sharp work," said the doctor, grimly.
"I mean, of course, she turned up her hair, and let her dresses down.It's full early, I know, but it's such a chance for Sarah--that'spartly what I came about. After the trouble she's been all her life tome, and all--just going to that excellent school in Germany--here's myaunt wanting to adopt her, or as good as adopt her--Lady Tintern, youknow."
Everybody who knew Mrs. Hewel knew also that Lady Tintern was heraunt; and Lady Tintern was a very great lady indeed.
"She is to come out this very season; that is why I took her to theGilberts', to prepare her for the great plunge," said Mrs. Hewel, notintending to be funny. "It will be a change for Sarah, such a hoydenas she has always been. But my aunt won't wait once she has got afancy into her head; though the child is only seventeen."
"At seventeen _I_ was still in the nursery, playing with my dolls,"said Lady Belstone.
"Oh, Lady Belstone!" said an odd, deep, protesting voice.
John looked with amused interest at the speaker. The unlucky Sarah hadtaken a low chair beside her hostess, and was holding one of the softwhite hands in her plump gloved fingers.
Sarah Hewel's adoration for Lady Mary dated from the days when she hadbeen ferried over the Youle with her nurse, to play with Peter, in hischubby childhood. Peter had often been cross and always tyrannical,but it was so wonderful to find a playmate who was naughtier thanherself, that Sarah had secretly admired Peter. She was the blacksheep of her own family, and in continual disgrace for lesser crimesthan he daily committed with impunity. But her admiration of Peter wastame and pale beside her admiration of Lady Mary. A mother who neverscolded, who told no tales, who petted black sheep when they werebruised and torn or stained entirely through their own wickedness, whocould always be depended on for kisses and bonbons and fairy-tales,seemed more angelic than human to poor little Sarah; whose own motherwas wrapt up in her two irreproachable sons, and had small affectionto spare for an ugly, tiresome little girl.
Sarah, however, had slowly but surely struggled out of the uglinessof her childhood; and John Crewys, regarding her critically in thelamplight, decided she would develop, one of these days, into a veryhandsome young woman; in spite of an ungainly stoop, a wide mouth thatpouted rather too much, and a nose that inclined saucily upwards.
Her colouring was fresh, even brilliant--the bright rose, and creamytint that sometimes accompanies vivid red hair--and of a vivid,uncompromising red were the locks that crowned Miss Sarah's littlehead, and shaded her blue-veined temples.
Miss Crewys had, in consequence, long ago pronounced her to be apositive fright; and Lady Belstone had declared that such hair wouldprove an insuperable obstacle to her chances of getting a husband.
"I know she's very young," said Mrs. Hewel, glanc
ing apologeticallyat her offspring. "But what can I do? There's no going against LadyTintern; and at seventeen she ought to be something more than atomboy, after all."
"_You_ were married at seventeen, weren't you?" said Sarah to LadyMary, in her deep, almost tragic voice--a voice that commandedattention, though it came oddly from her girlish chest.
"Sarah!" said Mrs. Hewel.
Lady Mary started and smiled. "Me? Yes, Sarah; I was married atseventeen."
"Mamma says nobody can be married properly--before they're one andtwenty. I _knew_ it was rot," said Sarah, triumphantly.
"Miss Sarah retains the outspokenness of her recently discardedchildhood, I perceive," said Sir Timothy, stiffly.
"Sarah!" said her mother, indignantly, "I said not unless they hadtheir parents' consent. I was not thinking of Lady Mary, as you knowvery well."
"_Your_ people didn't say you were too young to marry at seventeen,did they?" said Sarah, caressing Lady Mary's hand.
Lady Mary smiled at her, but shook her head. "You want to know toomuch, Sarah."
"Oh, I forgot," said Sarah the artless. "Sir Timothy was yourguardian, so, of course, there was nobody to stop his marrying you ifhe liked. I suppose you _had_ to do what he told you."
"Oh, Sarah, will you cease chattering?" cried her mother.
"I hope you have good news of your sons in South Africa, Mrs. Hewel,"said the canon, briskly advancing to the rescue.
Mrs. Hewel's voice changed. "Thank you, canon; they were all rightwhen we heard last. Tom is in Natal, so I feel happier about him;but Willie, of course, is in the thick of it all--and the newsto-day--isn't reassuring."
"But you are proud of them both," said Lady Mary, softly. "Everymother must be proud to have sons able and willing to fight for theircountry."
"We may feel differently concerning the justice of this war," said SirTimothy, clearing his throat; and Lady Mary shrugged her shoulders,whilst the canon jumped from his chair, and sat meekly down again oncatching the doctor's eye.
"But in our sympathy with our brave soldiers we are all one, Mrs.Hewel."
Sarah sprang forward. "You don't mean to say you're _still_ apro-Boer, Sir Timothy?" she exclaimed. "Well, mamma--talking of thejustice of the war--when Tom and Willie are risking their lives"--shebroke into a sudden sob--"and now _Peter_--"
"Peter!" said Lady Mary.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Sarah, running to her friend. "I didn't mean tohurt _you_--talking of the war--and--and the boys--when you must bethinking only of Peter." She wrung her hands together piteously.
"Of Peter!" Lady Mary repeated.
"We only heard to-day," said Mrs. Hewel, "and came in hoping for moredetails. My cousin George, who is also going out with Lord Ferries,happened to mention in his letter that Peter had joined the corps."
"I think I can explain how the mistake arose," said Sir Timothy,stiffly. "Peter wrote for permission to join, and I refused. My sonis fortunately too young to be of any use in a contest I regard withhorror."
"But Cousin George was helping Peter to get his kit, because they wereto sail at such short notice," cried Sarah.
"Sarah," said her mother, in breathless indignation, "_will_ you besilent?"
"What does this mean, Timothy?" said Lady Mary, trembling.
She stood by the centre table; and the hanging lamp above shed itslight on her brown hair, and flashed in her blue eyes, and from thediamond ring she wore.
The doctor rose from his chair.
"I am at a loss to understand," said Sir Timothy.
"It means," said Sarah, half-hysterically,--"oh, can't you see what itmeans? It just means that Peter is going to South Africa, whether youlike it or not."
"There must be some mistake, of course," said Mrs. Hewel, indistressed tones. "And yet--George's letter was so very clear."
Dr. Blundell touched the canon's arm.
"Shall I--must I--" whispered the canon, nervously.
"There is no help for it," said the doctor. He was looking at LadyMary as he spoke. Her face was deathly; her little frail hand graspedthe table.
"Sir Timothy," said the canon, "I--I have a communication to make toyou."
"On this subject?" said Sir Timothy.
"A letter from Peter."
"Why did you not say so earlier?" said Sir Timothy, harshly.
"I will explain, if you will kindly give me five minutes in thestudy."
"A letter from Peter," said Lady Mary, "and not--to me."
She looked round at them all with a little vacant smile.
John Crewys, who knew nothing of Peter's letter, had already graspedthe situation. He divined also that Lady Mary was fighting piteouslyagainst the conviction that Sarah's news was true.
"How could we guess you did not know?" said Mrs. Hewel, almostweeping.
"I am still in the dark," said Sir Timothy, coldly.
"Birch will explain at once," said the doctor, impatiently.
"Peter writes--asking me,--I am sure I don't know why he pitched uponme,--to--break the news to you, that he has joined Lord Ferries'Horse; feeling it his--his duty to his country to do so," said theunhappy canon, folding and unfolding the letter he held, with agitatedfingers.
"I knew there would be a satisfactory explanation," said Mrs. Hewel,tearfully. "Dear Lady Mary, having so inadvertently anticipatedPeter's letter, there is only one thing left for me to do. I must atleast leave you and Sir Timothy in peace to read it. Come, Sarah."
"Allow me to put you into your carriage," said Sir Timothy, in a voiceof iron.
Sarah followed them to the door, paused irresolutely, and stole backto Lady Mary's side.
"Say you're not angry with me, dear, beautiful Lady Mary," shewhispered passionately. "Do say you're not angry. I didn't know itwould make you so unhappy. It was partly my fault for telling Peterin the holidays that only old men, invalids, and--and cowards--wereshirking South Africa. I thought you'd be glad, like me, that Petershould go and fight like all the other boys."
"Sarah," said Dr. Blundell, gently, "don't you see that Lady Marycan't attend to you now? Come away, like a good girl."
He took her arm, and led her out of the hall; and Sarah forgot she hadgrown up the day before yesterday, and sobbed loudly as she went away.
Lady Mary lifted the miniature from the table, and looked at itwithout a word; but from the sofa, the two old sisters babbled audiblyto each other.
"I always said, Isabella, that if poor Mary spoilt Peter so terribly,_something_ would happen to him."
"What sad nonsense you talk, Georgina. Nothing has happened tohim--_yet_."
"He has defied his father, Isabella."
"He has obeyed his country's call, Georgina. Had the admiral beenalive, he would certainly have volunteered."
John Crewys made an involuntary step forward and placed himselfbetween the sofa and the table, as though to shield Lady Mary fromtheir observation, but he could not prevent their words from reachingher ears.
She whispered to him very softly. "Will you get the letter for me? Iwant to see--for myself--what--what Peter says."
"Go quietly into the library," said John, bending over her for amoment. "I will bring it you there immediately."
She obeyed him without a word.
John turned to the sofa. "I beg your pardon, canon," he saidcourteously, "but Lady Mary cannot bear this suspense. Allow me totake her son's letter to her at once."
"I--I am only waiting for Sir Timothy. It is to him I have to breakthe news; though, of course, there is nothing that Lady Mary may notknow," said the canon, in a polite but flurried tone. "I really shouldnot like--"
"My brother must see it first," said Miss Crewys, decidedly.
"Exactly. I am sure Sir Timothy would not be pleased if--Bless mysoul!"
For John, with a slight bow of apology, and his grave air ofauthority, had quietly taken the letter from the canon's undecidedfingers, and walked away with it into the library.
"How very oddly our cousin John behaves!" said Lady Bel
stone,indignantly. "Almost snatching the letter from your hand."
"Depend upon it, Mary inspired his action," said Miss Crewys, angrily."I saw her whispering away to him. A man she never set eyes onbefore."
"Pray are _we_ not to hear the contents?" said Lady Belstone,quivering with indignation.
"I suppose he thinks Lady Mary should make the communication herselfto Sir Timothy," gasped the canon. "I am sure I have no desire tofulfil so unpleasing a task. Still, the matter _was_ entrusted to me.However, the main substance has been told; there can be no furthersecret about it. My only care was that Sir Timothy should not beunduly agitated."
"It is a comfort to find that _some one_ can consider the feelings ofour poor brother," said Miss Crewys.
"Do give me your arm to the drawing-room, canon," said Lady Belstone,rightly judging that the canon would reveal the whole contents ofPeter's letter to her more easily in private. "The shock has made mefeel quite faint. You, too, Georgina, are looking pale."
"It is not the shock, but the draught, which is affecting me,Isabella,--Sir Timothy thoughtlessly keeping the door open so long. Iwill accompany you to the drawing-room."
"But Sir Timothy may want me," said the canon, uneasily.
"Bless the man! they've got the letter itself, what can they want with_you?_" said her ladyship, vigorously propelling her supporter out ofreach of possible interruption. "Close the door behind us, Georgina, Ibeg, or that odious doctor will be racing after us."
"He takes far too much upon himself. I have no idea of permittingcountry apothecaries to be so familiar," said Miss Crewys.