Denzil Quarrier Part 21

There was a pause of uncertainty broken by Serena Mumbray's quiet voice.

"Dear Mrs. Tenterden, Stockholm is not in Denmark, but in Sweden. And we are told that Mrs. Quarrier was an English governess there."

"Ah! a governess!" cried two or three voices.

"To tell the truth," said Mrs. Mumbray, more dignified than ever after her vindication, "it is probable that she belongs to some very poor family. I should be sorry to think any worse of her for _that_, but it would explain the private marriage."

"So you think people _can_ be married legally in Paris?" persisted the alderman's wife, whose banns had been proclaimed in hearing of orthodox Polterham about a year ago.

"Of course they can," fell from Serena.

Lilian's age, personal appearance, dress, behaviour, underwent discussion at great length.

"What church do they go to?" inquired some one, and the question excited general interest.

"They were at St. Luke's last Sunday," Mrs. Walker was able to declare, though her wonted timidity again threw some suspicion on the statement.

"St. Luke's! Why St. Luke's?" cried other voices. "It isn't their parish, is it?"

"I think," suggested the widow, "it may be because the Liversedges go to St. Luke's. Mrs. Liversedge is"----

Her needless information was cut short by a remark from Mrs. Tenterden.

"I could never listen Sunday after Sunday to Mr. Garraway. I think him excessively tedious. And his voice is so very trying."

The inc.u.mbent of St. Luke's offered a brief diversion from the main theme. A mention of the Rev. Scatchard Vialls threatened to lead them too far, and Mrs. Roach interposed with firmness.

"I still think it a very singular thing that they went abroad to be married."

"But they _didn't_ go abroad, my dear," objected the hostess. "That is to say, one of them was already abroad."

"Indeed! The whole thing seems very complicated. I think it needs explanation. I shouldn't feel justified in calling upon Mrs. Quarrier until"----

Her voice was overpowered by that of Mrs. Tenterden, who demanded loudly:

"Is it true that she has already become very intimate with _that person_ Mrs. Wade?"

"Oh, I _do_ hope not!" exclaimed several ladies.

Here was an inexhaustible topic. It occupied more than an hour, until the last tea-cup had been laid aside and the more discreet callers were already on their way home.

CHAPTER XIV

There needed only two or three days of life at Polterham to allay the uneasiness with which, for all his show of equanimity, Denzil entered upon so perilous a career. By the end of January he had practically forgotten that his position was in any respect insecure. The risk of betraying himself in an unguarded moment was diminished by the mental habit established during eighteen months of secrecy in London. Lilian's name was seldom upon his lips, and any inquiry concerning her at once awakened his caution. Between themselves they never spoke of the past.

Long ago he had silenced every conscientious scruple regarding the relation between Lilian and himself; and as for the man Northway, if ever he thought of him at all, it was with impatient contempt. That he was deceiving his Polterham acquaintances, and in a way which they would deem an unpardonable outrage, no longer caused him the least compunction. Conventional wrong doing, he had satisfied himself, was not wrong-doing at all, unless discovered. He injured no one. The society of such a person as Lilian could be nothing but an advantage to man, woman, and child. Only the sublimation of imbecile prejudice would maintain that she was an unfit companion for the purest creature living. He had even ceased to smile at the success of his stratagem. It was over and done with; their social standing was una.s.sailable.

Anxious to complete his book on the Vikings, he worked at it for several hours each morning; it would be off his hands some time in February, and the spring publishing season should send it forth to the world. The rest of his leisure was given to politics. Chests of volumes were arriving from London, and his library shelves began to make a respectable appearance; as a matter of principle, he bought largely from the local bookseller, who rejoiced at the sudden fillip to his stagnant trade, and went about declaring that Mr. Denzil Quarrier was evidently _the_ man for the borough.

He fell upon history, economics, social speculation, with characteristic vigour. If he got into the House of Commons, those worthies should speedily be aware of his existence among them. It was one of his favourite boasts that whatever subject he choose to tackle, he could master. No smattering for him; a solid foundation of knowledge, such as would ensure authority to his lightest utterances.

In the meantime, he began to perceive that Lilian was not likely to form many acquaintances in the town. With the Liversedges she stood on excellent terms, and one or two families closely connected with them gave her a welcome from which she did not shrink. But she had no gift of social versatility; it cost her painful efforts to converse about bazaars and curates and fashions and babies with the average Polterham matron; she felt that most of the women who came to see her went away with distasteful impressions, and that they were anything but cordial when she returned their call. A life of solitude and study was the worst possible preparation for duties such as were now laid upon her.

"You are dissatisfied with me," she said to Denzil, as they returned from spending the evening with some empty but influential people who had made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Dissatisfied? On the contrary, I am very proud of you. It does one good to contrast one's wife with women such as those."

"I tried to talk; but I'm so ignorant of everything they care about. I shall do better when I know more of the people they refer to."

"Chattering apes! Malicious idiots! Heaven forbid that you should ever take a sincere part in their gabble! That lot are about the worst we shall have to deal with. Decent simpletons you can get along with very well."

"How ought I to speak of Mrs. Wade? When people tell downright falsehoods about her, may I contradict?"

"It's a confoundedly difficult matter, that. I half wish Mrs. Wade would hasten her departure. Did she say anything about it when you saw her the other day?"

"Nothing whatever."

It appeared that the widow wished to make a friend of Lilian. She had called several times, and on each occasion behaved so charmingly that Lilian was very ready to meet her advances. Though on intellectual and personal grounds he could feel no objection to such an intimacy, Denzil began to fear that it might affect his popularity with some voters who would take the Liberal side if it did not commit them to social heresies. This cla.s.s is a very large one throughout England. Mrs. Wade had never given occasion of grave scandal; she was even seen, with moderate regularity, at one or other of the churches; but many of the anti-Tory bourgeois suspected her of sympathy with views so very "advanced" as to be socially dangerous. Already it had become known that she was on good terms with Quarrier and his wife. It was rumoured that Quarrier would reconsider the position he had publicly a.s.sumed, and stand forth as an advocate of Female Suffrage. For such extremes Polterham was not prepared.

"Mrs. Wade asks me to go and have tea with her to-morrow," Lilian announced one morning, showing a note. "Shall I, or not?"

"You would like to?"

"Not if you think it unwise."

"Hang it!--we can't be slaves. Go by all means, and refresh your mind."

At three o'clock on the day of invitation Lilian alighted from her brougham at Pear-tree Cottage. It was close upon the end of February; the declining sun shot a pleasant glow across the landscape, and in the air reigned a perfect stillness. Mrs. Wade threw open the door herself with laughing welcome.

"Let us have half-an-hour's walk, shall we? It's so dry and warm."

"I should enjoy it," Lilian answered, readily.

"Then allow me two minutes for bonnet and cloak."

She was scarcely longer. They went by the hedge-side path which led towards Bale Water. To-day the papers were full of exciting news. Sir Stafford Northcote had brought forward his resolution for making short work of obstructive Members, and Radicalism stood undecided. Mrs. Wade talked of these things in the liveliest strain, Lilian responding with a lighthearted freedom seldom possible to her.

"You skated here, didn't you?" said her companion, as they drew near to the large pond.

"Yes; a day or two after we came. How different it looks now."

They stood on the bank where it rose to a considerable height above the water.

"The rails have spoilt this spot," said Mrs. Wade. "They were only put up last autumn, after an accident. I wonder it was never found necessary before. Some children were gathering blackberries from the bramble there, and one of them reached too far forward, and over she went! I witnessed it from the other side, where I happened to be walking. A great splash, and then a chorus of shrieks from the companions. I began to run forward, though of course I could have done nothing whatever; when all at once I saw a splendid sight. A man who was standing not far off ran to the edge and plunged in--a magnificent 'header!' He had only thrown away his hat and coat. They say it's very deep just here. He disappeared completely, and then in a few seconds I saw that he had hold of the child. He brought her out where the bank slopes yonder--no harm done. I can't tell you how I enjoyed that scene.