A Witch of the Hills Volume I Part 17

He had been making up that opening as he came along I felt sure, from the pompous effect with which he produced it. He raised his hand as I was bursting into an angry protest, and continued--

'You have obtained my daughter's consent and my consent to becoming her affianced husband.' This, too, was a studied phrase, brought out with pedantic decision. 'On that understanding I leave her and her mother in this neighbourhood with confidence, and I call upon you to swear----'

But here Babiole broke away from him, and retreating quickly to the other side of the table, out of reach of the rough paternal arm, she cried out, with burning cheeks and flashing blue eyes--

'Papa, you are insulting Mr. Maude, and I can't listen. He has been the best friend we ever had; n.o.body knows how good he is; and now for you, who ought to thank him,--honour him for what he has been to us,--to talk as if you mistrusted him, as if we mistrusted him,--Oh, it is too horrible! I can't bear it! How can we stay here after this?

How, if we do stay here, can we look him in the face? He is the best man in all the world, and the kindest, and the cleverest; and oh! you might have trusted him, and not have brought this shame upon us!'

And the poor child crouched down upon the nearest chair, and turned away her head to hide her falling tears.

Her father listened to this outburst with unmoved pompous stolidity; but as she sank down, he looked from her to me with a proud and satisfied glance, as much as to say, 'Do you observe my daughter's exquisite sensibility? This is one of the results of a parent's devotion to Art.'

'Mr. Ellmer, let me walk down the drive with you,' said I hurriedly, quite unmanned and nerveless at the sight of the girl's distress.

'Surely, we can arrange everything to your satisfaction by ourselves.'

'There I differ from you,' said he, doggedly holding his ground, determined to carry through to the end his own more dramatic plan of settlement. 'I am a father, Mr. Maude, and a father's sense of his duty to his child must be respected. I am not insensible that you have so far shown yourself quite the gentleman.'

Babiole, so to speak, curled up at this.

'And therefore I have permitted this engagement. But I must have it plain that I hold you responsible for my little girl's happiness, and that if anything goes wrong with her, it is you--you, Mr. Maude--who will have to answer for it to me!'

He spoke with savage earnestness which impressed me, and struck terror into his daughter, whom he kissed with genuinely pa.s.sionate tenderness on both cheeks.

'Good-bye, Bab,' said he; 'be a good girl, and don't grow too like your mother. Don't be too sweet to the man you fancy till he's your husband, and you'll have more sweetness to spare for him then. Don't believe your mother when she says your father's nothing but a blackguard, for he'll do more for you at a pinch than any of your beaux. Good-bye, child. G.o.d bless you!'

She kissed him, trembling, with timid affection answering to his tenderness--

'Good-bye, papa,' she said, and added in a whisper, 'Won't you some day live with mamma and me again? We would try to make you happy, and I am learning to understand all about Art.'

'Ah, well, some day perhaps,' he said hastily, and disengaged himself from her twining arms.

I thought he was going out without any further greeting to me, but close to the door he stopped, and giving me a stolid frown, jerked his head slowly back in the direction of his daughter; then, with a menacing nod to remind me of his warning, he left the room and the house. A minute later I saw him blubbering,--there is no other word for it,--like a great overgrown child as he went down the drive.

I waited at the window on purpose to give Babiole time to recover enough serenity to bridge over the awkwardness of the situation. The startling necessity of the case restored her to full self-command much sooner than I had expected. After a very few minutes, during which I heard her sobs die away like a child's into silence, I ventured to turn round, and found her with red swollen eyelids and a very sad little face, but perfectly calm. She rose from her chair in quite a dignified way, and said--

'We have kept you from your work, I am afraid, Mr. Maude,' with the odd primness which I could remember as one of her earliest characteristics.

'Not at all. I--I was not busy,' I answered, with frozen stiffness.

For the moment I dared not speak to her, except under this ridiculous mask of frigidity; such a lot of indiscreet emotions were bubbling up in me, ready to burst into rash speech at the first opening. She seemed a little dismayed by my coldness, and hung her head in what I knew to be shame at her father's clumsy show of mistrust.

'Well, you shall have a little peace now at least,' she said, without looking at me, as she crossed to the door.

'And to-day's lessons?' I asked rather abruptly.

'I think I will ask you to excuse me to-day,' she said in a trembling voice.

'Certainly,' said I, with an involuntary bow, which caused her to look up and redden at this unusual ceremoniousness.

The old footing was, for a time at least, completely destroyed.

'Good-afternoon, Mr. Maude,' she said.

'Good-afternoon,' I repeated.

But, as she took another step and reached the screen, her shy glance met mine; impulsively she stretched out her hand. I seized it, and for one brief minute we looked straight into each other's eyes with the frank confidence of our old friendship: the next, she had broken away, and I was left alone with silent To-to and sympathetic Ta-ta.

END OF VOL. I