The Spider and the Fly
"We should be all asleep," said Violet, quietly.
"Exactly," assented Mr. Leicester, gravely.
"We are very glad to see you at any time," said Mrs. Mildmay. "And I think it is very kind of you to take the trouble on such a warm day, to come and see Violet's dog; poor fellow! we cannot think what ails his leg."
"We shall perhaps be able to find out," said Mr. Leicester.
"Will you take a cup of coffee?" asked Violet.
"Yes, I will, please," he said. "Coffee is a good antidote to the heat, is it not, Captain Murpoint?"
"Yes," said the captain, who had taken the opportunity to scrutinize the young man's face during the exchange of remarks; "yes, with a little curry powder added. We used to take it with chillies every morning at Madras."
Mr. Leicester sipped his coffee and chatted in his grave way; then, when the coffee had disappeared, Violet rose to conduct him to the stables.
When they reached the stables, where Violet was welcomed by many a groom and stable-help with smiles and hat-touchings, the great mastiff Leo came limping out of his kennel, baying and throwing up its head, with mingled pain and pleasure.
"Poor old fellow," said Violet. "See, isn't it a pity? He is very fierce," she added, as the dog eyed the stranger with suspicious, threatening aspect.
"I'm not afraid of a dog," said Mr. Leicester, quietly, and without hesitation he knelt down and stroked the thick, smooth neck. The dog growled and put its paws on his shoulder.
"Oh, please be careful!" said Violet, apprehensively. "Quiet, Leo! Quiet, sir."
Mr. Dodson, however, did not seem at all nervous and, with a grave, "Poor old man!" took hold of the bad foot and examined it.
"There's a thorn in this foot, or there was, and it is festering. I prescribe a poultice," he said.
"Oh, dear me! who is to put it on?" said Violet.
"I will," said Mr. Leicester, "if you will be kind enough to order some warm water and linseed."
Violet, without any further fuss, sent one of the grooms for the required articles, and Mr. Leicester seated himself on the top of the kennel and talked to the dog until they came.
Then he mixed the poultice, applied it, and washed his hands, all with the same self-composed gravity which half amused Violet and half awed her.
This Mr. Leicester, whom she had once almost despised for being the son of a tallow melter was gradually winning her respect and setting her thinking.
"How kind of you," she said. "I am really very grateful. But I am ashamed that you should have had so much trouble."
"Not at all. I am very fond of dogs," said Mr. Leicester, and the speech, though it seemed ungracious, was pleasantly spoken.
"If you are fond of horses, come and see my ponies," said Violet, in her frank way, and they turned to the stables.
"They are a pretty pair; they'd go well in tandem," said Mr. Leicester, thoughtfully.
"Would they?" said Violet, eagerly. "How I should like to drive them. Is it difficult?"
"No," said Mr. Leicester, "not at all, when you have acquired the knack. If you will allow me, I will show you how to drive the ponies tandem."
"Thank you so much," said Violet, gratefully; "but are you sure that it will not bore you? I know gentlemen dislike being bored."
"No, it will give me great pleasure," he said, simply. "When will you take the first lesson?"
"Oh, you shall say the time."
"This afternoon, at five?"
"Yes," said Violet; "I shall be delighted! Oh, I forgot!" she added, quickly, and with an unmistakable air of disappointment. "I am to drive Captain Murpoint over to the village, and perhaps he would not care to risk his neck."
Captain Murpoint came from the house at that moment to answer the question.
"Will you be present at a little equestrian experiment, Captain Murpoint?" asked Mr. Leicester.
The captain smiled.
"Are you going to ride three of Miss Mildmay's horses a-row?" he said, with his smooth smile.
"No; Mr. Dodson has been kind enough to offer to teach me how to drive tandem," said Violet.
"I shall be only too delighted to make a spectator."
"Will you come into the house again?" she asked, as Mr. Leicester raised his hat and paused at the walk leading to the gate.
"No thank you," he said. "I am going down to the village for my mother. Good-morning. Good-morning, Captain Murpoint." And he sauntered off.
They repaired to the drawing-room, that being the coolest part of the house, and there the captain was most attentive. The conversation got on to the topic of music, and Violet turned over her new songs, and at last, in answer to a question whether he sang or not, the captain offered to sing.
He seated himself at the piano, struck a few chords, and commenced a barcarole in so sweet and yet powerful a voice that Violet was charmed.
The music drew Mrs. Mildmay into the room from another part of the house, and the morning, which Violet had feared would be extremely dull, promised to pass away most pleasantly.
While he was singing, Violet heard her door open.
She was standing at the piano, and she did not turn her head, but raised her eyes to a mirror which hung over the instrument, and which reflected the whole of the room.
As she did so, she saw that the door was opened by the captain's servant, and her gaze was riveted by the picture which the mirror showed her.
The man, thinking himself unobserved was standing, with the door handle in his hand, with such an expression of infinite mockery and sardonic amusement on his evil face that Violet felt herself fascinated and strangely impressed by it.
Suddenly the captain raised his eyes, and she knew by the look of mingled anger, alarm, and suspicion which displaced the smile upon his face that he was conscious of her fixed attention upon the mirror.
He finished the song abruptly, turned his head, and saw Jem Starling, whose face instantly resumed its usual snug demureness.
"Well, James?"
"A letter, captain," said James, "marked 'immediate.'"
The captain took it.
Jem left the room.
"Pray, do not mind us," said Mrs. Mildmay, and, with a bow, the captain took out his letter, which he had thrust into his pocket.
He was almost on the point of returning into the hiding place, for at a glance he saw that it was only a sham one – an old envelope sealed up.
However, with his usual quickness, he decided to open it, and, accordingly, made a slight fuss with the seal, and, taking out a piece of paper, read:
"The pleece inspector's cum down to-day."
Captain Murpoint smiled.
"Business, my dear madam; business men always mark their letters 'immediate,'" and he thrust the letter into his pocket, and commenced talking as if the matter were of no moment.
Violet played a little, and practiced some new song, and Mrs. Mildmay ventured to pass through the French window into the garden, the captain accompanying her.
It was after they had left the room that Violet, happening to glance at the carpet, saw a scrap of paper by her side.
It was the captain's note.
"'The pleece inspector's cum down to-day,'" she said; "why, where can this have come from?"
For the moment she thought that it must be the letter which the captain had received, but the scrap of paper had so little of the appearance of a missive that had come through the post, and the information seemed to have still less connection with the captain, that she dismissed the idea.
"Strange," she said, and, with a laugh, she put the piece of paper in her pocket.
The captain had pulled it from his with his pocket handkerchief.
CHAPTER VII
IMPRESSIONS
Five o'clock came, and with it Leicester Dodson.
It had been very warm out all day; it was warm still, but Mr. Dodson did not look at all distressed, and his velvet lounging jacket hung loosely and comfortably upon his strong, muscular frame.
"Have you courage enough to face the weather?" he said, putting his head through the window frame, "or do you give in?"
"No," said Violet, laughing; "on the contrary, I feel quite brave. I will not keep you long. Will you take a seat while I get my hat?"
He entered, sauntered to a chair, and dropped into it, prepared to wait the three-quarters of an hour which ladies usually require for donning hat and cape.
But Violet was quick and impulsive in all her actions, and before ten minutes had passed he heard her voice on the stairs again, speaking to a servant.
Before she entered the room, however, the door opened, and Captain Murpoint came in.
"Oh, here you are, Mr. Dodson," he said. "Can you tell me at what time the post goes out?"
"Six o'clock," said Leicester.
"So soon?" returned the captain. "I am afraid I shall be compelled to deprive myself of the pleasure of accompanying you. I have some rather important letters to write, and shall barely have time to get through them."
"I am sorry for that," said Leicester Dodson, quietly telling a polite falsehood, for he was in reality rather glad than otherwise, and looked forward with no little satisfaction to a tête-à-tête with Violet.
"So am I," said the captain, and, as he spoke, he looked round about the room, as if searching for something.
"Lost anything?" asked the other, in his slow, indolent way.
"Y – es," said Captain Murpoint, "a letter. I have dropped it from my pocket, and I fancied I should see it in this room."
At that moment the door opened and Violet entered.
The captain ceased his hunt immediately, and, murmuring softly, "It's of no consequence," turned to Violet and told her that he should be compelled to remain at home.
"I am sorry," said Violet, echoing Leicester's words, and with as little truth.
And she passed out onto the lawn.
"I don't know whether James has harnessed the ponies properly," she said, doubtfully, as the groom appeared, leading up the pretty pair tandem fashion.
"No, he hasn't," said Leicester, after examining them.
And he quietly explained to the man how the operation should be performed.
Then he handed Violet into the little toy phaeton, and took the reins.
At first the ponies, unused to their novel positions and quite fresh after two days' rest, showed signs of rebellion, and started first to one side, then the other, and at last the leader ventured to attempt the feat of walking on his hind legs.
But Mr. Leicester's iron hand drew him to earth again, and, with a touch of the long whip, hinted to him that a very different driver than Miss Violet sat behind him.
After a few minutes they settled down more quietly, and, as the feathery phaeton was rattled down the well-kept road to the village, Violet's face flushed and her eyes sparkled with pleasure.
"How delightful!" she exclaimed; "and how easy it looks!"
"Come and try," said Mr. Leicester, and he pulled the ponies up until he had changed seats with her.
Then Violet found that tandem-driving was one of those feats which look easier to perform than they really are. Her hold on the reins was not tight enough; the artful little creatures knew her gentle touch, and the leader commenced his old trick, and, in spite of all Violet's skill, insisted upon turning round, as if he meant to enter the carriage and take a ride himself.
Mr. Leicester smiled, and Violet pouted.
"Hold the reins tighter," he said, "and give Master Dot – or Spot? which is it? – a clean, little cut on the left side."
She did so, and Master Dot immediately spun round to the right.
Then Mr. Leicester showed her how to keep him straight by whipping him on the right, and Violet managed to drive him straight for some little distance until they came to a sharp corner.
"Now, take care," said Mr. Leicester; but his warning came too late.
Dot cut the corner rather close, Spot, of course, cut it closer, and the phaeton would have been over, and its contents spilled like eggs, had not Mr. Dodson's hand closed on the small ones of Violet, and tugged the leader round.
For the second time Violet learned how hard and firm that hand was, and involuntarily she uttered a little, sharp cry of pain.
"I am so sorry!" said Leicester, and his voice, naturally so cold and grave, grew wonderfully gentle and anxious. "I did not mean to hurt you."
"No, no; it's nothing," Violet said, coloring with shame at her weakness. "I am really very grateful. You did not hurt me. May I keep the reins a little longer? I don't deserve to after such a silly mistake."
"Yes," he said, "there is a bit of straight road now."
He seemed so genuinely kind that Violet could not refrain from thanking him again.
"You are very good-natured, Mr. Dodson," she said. "I might have thought you proud if I had judged by first impressions."
"Why?" he asked.
"Why?" she repeated. "Are you sure that I shall not offend you?"
"Quite," he said, with a short laugh. "Pray, go on."
"Well, then, if you remember how abruptly you turned away from me that morning when you so foolishly and recklessly, but so heroically, risked your life for my paltry sunshade? You actually refused to shake hands," and she laughed, "and turned away with the cut direct."
He laughed, and looked up at her with a half-amused smile.
"I did, did I?" he said. "Come, I will be candid. I had judged you, not by first impressions, but by hearsay. The unkind things said of one always get repeated – one's friends always see to that. And I have heard some of the mighty civil things your aunt, and perhaps you had said of tallow chandlers in general, and ourselves and the Cedars in particular."
Violet crimsoned, and whipped Dot almost angrily for very shame.
"And," he exclaimed, laughing again, "I thought when you told me your name, 'Well, she shan't be compelled to know me because I picked up her sunshade,' and so I took myself off with all humility."
"Some one's darling sin is the pride that apes humility," answered Violet, with an arch smile.
"Exactly," said Mr. Leicester, "I did not choose that the acquaintanceship should be one of my commencing. If you chose to look down with contempt upon tallow melters – "
Violet stopped him, with a look almost of pain.
"You are unjust," she said, in a low voice. "And you forget that I never thought less of you for what you were. You are not a tallow melter – and – and – oh, I do not know what to say, save that I am not guilty of the meanness you lay to my charge."
"Forgive me," he said, gently and earnestly. "I was only half serious. I did not think so really. But," he added, laughing, "it is a fact that we made our money from tallow, and there's no getting over it. Ah! here is Captain Murpoint," he broke off, as the captain's tall and powerful figure stepped out on to the path beside the drive.
So sudden was his appearance, seeming to grow out of her thoughts, as it were, that Violet, who was by no means a nervous or sentimental young lady, half started, and certainly paled.
In starting, she tugged the reins.
Dot and Spot took the jerk as an excuse for a little freshness, and started off, with their heads down viciously.
Leicester, who had noticed her start, and the sudden pallor, caught hold of her hand, and soon pulled the sprightly ponies into a trot again.
But Violet's hands and his had met once more, and the contact had produced a strange thrill, which was as wonderful as that feeling which they had been speaking of, but it was certainly not one of antipathy.
Leicester stepped out, handed Violet to the steps; then, after patting the ponies, held out his hand.
"Will you not come in?" said Violet.
"No, thank you. It is nearly dinner time. I hope you are not tired."
"No," said Violet, giving him her hand, which he kept while she finished speaking. "No, and I am very much obliged. Good-by."
"Good-by," he said, and perhaps unconsciously he pressed her little hand as he released it.
Then he turned, and Violet, watching him, saw him stand for a moment to exchange a good-day with Captain Murpoint, then stride on.
It was nearly dinner time, as he had said, and he sauntered up to his room, and put himself into the hands of his valet with his usual indolence.
Then he came down to dinner, and ate it with rather more than his usual gravity, talking little, save to his mother, to whom he was always the perfection of knightly courtesy.
Once only he seemed cold, and that was when she said, "Leicester, we have been talking of returning the Mildmays' dinner party. What day would you like me to ask them?" for she always consulted her darling son on every matter, important or trifling.
"I do not care," he said; "I am going to town to-morrow, and I may not return for a week or two. You might ask them next week."
"Going to town," said Mrs. Dodson, ruefully. "Why my dear Leicester, you said you would stay a month with us!"
"I must go to-morrow, mother," he said, and she knew that it was useless to contend against the fiat when pronounced in that calm, cold tone.
After dinner he strolled out on to the cliffs and lit a cigar.
"Yes," he muttered, looking at the sea, lying like a great opal in the low sunset. "I will go to town; I am better there out of mischief. She is very pretty – beautiful, I think, if any woman's face did deserve the word; and there is something about her – is it her voice, or her look, or that swift turn of the head? – which moves me as never voice or look or gesture of woman moved me yet. She is a beautiful, bewitching snare, and, as I have no desire to be snared, as I am too selfish, too cynical, too philosophical to make any woman happy, I will fly. Yes, I will go to town before the danger grows greater." And, as to resolve and perform were nearly one with Mr. Leicester Dodson, to town he went, and Violet saw his dogcart rattling down to Burfield from her bedroom window.
He went to town, but, as we have seen, he could not be happy, contented, or even satisfied, and before the fortnight had passed, he was on his way back to Penruddie, with Bertie Fairfax accompanying him.
Fate stands at the crossroads of life and beckons with inexorable finger, and man, though he strive against the stern command and struggles to avoid that particular path up which the great fate beckons him, must yield at last and walk on to his happiness or his doom.
Fate beckons you, Leicester Dodson, and, though you proudly set your face against its decree, you cannot avoid the inevitable.
CHAPTER VIII
SYMPATHY OR ANTIPATHY?
The captain, as he opened his bedroom window, saw Mr. Leicester Dodson's departure, and was rather surprised.
Captain Murpoint was too shrewd an observer of human nature not to have noticed Mr. Leicester's evident partiality for Miss Violet's society, and, although it would seem to be antagonistic to the captain's plans that the young man should be hanging about the house, yet, in reality, he was quite willing that Violet's attention should be absorbed by handsome Mr. Leicester, or any one else, so that it was drawn for the present from Captain Murpoint.
He could not understand Mr. Leicester's sudden flight, and Mr. Starling, when interrogated, could not very much enlighten him.
Jem or "Starling," as the captain now called him, entered his master's bedroom with the water for the bath, and found the captain still in bed, but with his head resting on one strong hand, and his face turned dreamily to the window.
Starling grunted his morning salutation, and the captain nodded.
"Go to the window," he said, "and tell me if that young Dodson's dogcart has come back; if I have calculated correctly, it has just had about time enough to get to the station and back."
"Here it comes, captain."
"Without Mr. Leicester?"
"Without Mr. Leicester," replied Starling.
"Then he has gone to town," said the captain, springing out of bed and stretching himself thoughtfully. "Gone to town! What the deuce has he gone to town for?"
"That's what everybody wants to know," said Jem, from the next room, where he was spreading out the towels and pouring the water into the bath.
"Did you make friends with the people in the servants' hall at the Cedars?" asked the captain.
"I did, captain, obedient to your commands," said Jem with a wink. "And a very nice, genteel lot o' people they are, though I prefer the hall here, if there's any choice. Oh, yes, I walked up last night, permiscous like, and when they knew as I was your man they made me welcome, drawed me some of the best October and would 'a' opened a bottle of Madery, but I wouldn't hear on it – I allus was so modest. I had a cut of duck and a helpin' o' some sort o' cream with a long, furrin name – "
"Tush! I don't want to know what you had to eat and drink," interrupted the captain. "What did you hear?"
"Not much," he said, laying out the captain's ready-brushed morning suit. "I heard that Mr. Leicester was going up to London this morning, quite sudden like – and he ain't one of your impulse gents, neither. His man didn't know what was up, and depended to stop here for another month at the least. There wasn't anything awkward between the old people and the young 'un, neither, for the butler – which is a more high and mighty swell, in a bigger shirt front, than our chap – he heard Mr. Dodson beg o' Mr. Leicester to stop. But, no, he said he'd go, and gone he has, sure enough."
"And now you can go," said the captain. "Stay! did you find that piece of paper which I told you to look for in the drawing room?"
"No, captain, and I looked everywhere."
"Idiot!" said the captain, between his teeth, "let that be a warning to you never to put your clumsy paw to paper again. How do I know who may have picked that up, with its cursed, telltale sentence?"
"I beg pardon," said Jem, humbly, "but I thought I was doing right. This 'ere inspector was a man from London, and he might have spotted either of us – "
"Enough," said the captain, with a displeased frown.
"You were right to be cautious, and to give me warning, but you should have taken a better way in which to do it. Your grinning face and that stupid business of the letter were enough to arouse the suspicions of a child. Has the inspector gone?"
"Yes, captain," said Jem, "went last night. Found everythink satisfactory; the force in fine condition, and the reserve able and active. He! he!"
"What are you laughing at?" said the captain.
"There's only one policeman – bar the coastguard, which don't count – in the place," grinned Jem.
"Only one policeman – and the coastguard!" mused the captain.
Then he muttered, "All the better," and, dismissing his faithful servant, he prepared for his bath.
For a week Violet felt very dull, and the captain, who watched her closely behind his well-assumed simplicity and carelessness, found that all his amusing stories, songs and little pieces of acting failed to amuse her, and he was not surprised to hear Mrs. Mildmay say at breakfast one morning:
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Для бесплатного чтения открыта только часть текста.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера:
Полная версия книги