Leonore Stubbs Part 21

"No matter about that. What happened at this precious meeting? Answer me truly, Tommy, for----" he paused, and once more the angry tone softened.

"You have neither father nor mother, and I've got to see you through this brash. The truth I _must have_, so out with it."

"She spoke to me," owned Tommy, reluctantly. "She knew who I was, and asked if I would take a message to Mrs. Craig?"

"Well?"

"Afterwards she was not sure that she had got the message correctly--it was from Miss Boldero, I believe,--and--and----"

"And you had to walk back with her to the Abbey and get it?"

Now this was precisely what had happened, but the dry tone with its covert mockery, stung.

"Certainly I had. I don't know why you should speak to me so, Dr. Craig?

I did what every man in my case would have done. And Mrs. Stubbs----"

"That's better. 'Mrs. Stubbs.' Never let me hear 'Leonore' again."

"Dash it, I can manage my own affairs, sir. I--I don't need either your advice or interference. You take advantage of your position, and of--of a moment's weakness on my part. Please to let me alone in future."

White, infuriated, and shaking like a reed, the wretched lad struggled desperately for manhood, and his companion was secretly relieved by the outburst.

Here was something to lay hold of at last; some good, honest, fighting blood roused; real anger melted as he a.s.sumed its mask.

"Very well--very well. Neither advice nor interference shall you have, if it comes to that, young sir; but there is such a thing as authority.

You are in my house, and in my employment, and I'll be hanged if I stand by and see you ruined. Unless you give me your word that you will hold no more communication with this woman, I shall go straight to Boldero Abbey, and speak to her--mark you--to _her_, myself."

"You?--To her?--You?"

"And if she will not hearken to me, I shall address myself to her father."

"To her father?"--in a soundless whisper.

"That's what I shall do. You can take your choice. Hollo!" For he saw what was going to happen, and pushed a chair beneath the nerveless limbs just in time. "Here! take a taste of this"--the doctor hurriedly poured from a small phial of brandy in his pocket, "take it,--or I'll pour it down your throat, silly loon. We'll not quarrel yet, you and I. And we'll talk no more at present; when we are both _reasonable_ again, and can discuss this business doucely and decently, as between man and man, we will. Meantime just bide here a bit, and think it over. And, Tommy, ahem----?"

Tommy's moist hand stole out feebly, tremulously.

"You'll never let on to anybody about--about yon wee story of mine?"

"Poor lad--poor lad," said the doctor, going out presently wiping his eyes. "He's safe now. But, Lord, what a time I've had of it! And one false step--one straining of the line and it would have snapped like silk. Aye, aye; I played my fish on a single gut, and," triumphantly, "landed him! Landed him, by Jupiter!"

It was strictly true that chance had discovered to Leonore the existence of her village admirer, who otherwise most certainly would never have come within the sphere of her observation. But each was waiting to despatch a telegram, and something had gone wrong with the wires. It was nothing too serious to be remedied and that speedily, they were a.s.sured, and if they could wait a few minutes, all would be well.

But the few minutes expanded into a quarter-of-an-hour, and then--perhaps it was she or perhaps it was he, or perhaps it was both at once who were electrified by the all-potent touch of opportunity.

On Leonore's part, here was a comely youth,--and she had seen the comely youth in Dr. Craig's gig, and guessed at once who he might be. Three months had pa.s.sed since the collapse of Lady b.u.t.ts' well-meant little scheme, and no one had stepped into the cast-off shoes of her philosophical nephew--and Leonore had been bored, sadly bored. True, Val was there, but since his perfunctory declaration, Val had lost his savour. Up till then, Leo had not been sufficiently certain of his real sentiments to make his company uninteresting, and had decided to probe them by way of experiment--but the excitement of the interview had fizzled out, and his honesty did him no service in the eyes of his charmer. She would now bring him straight in to where her sisters were a.s.sembled, if met outside--and as he was always happy and at home among them, he had not the wit to perceive that things had changed.

Consequently the coast was clear for George b.u.t.ts, and he had his ephemeral hour; and then?--then there rose above the dull, tame level of the horizon a new object.

What! He was beneath her? She would never have looked at him, still less spoken to him? Oh, my dear incredulous sir, or madam, how much or how little do you who p.r.o.nounce thus know of human nature? Have you ever felt what it is to have an eye, blue or grey or what not, a mute, appealing, impa.s.sioned eye, flashing into yours its secret?--and have you cared to reckon coldly its owner's claims to your notice? You bearded widower, with your family of big girls and boys, what about that little lodging-house keeper at the sea-side, who welcomes your most trivial order reverentially, who hardly ever speaks, but gives you one long look as she leaves the room? The humble soul has no idea of betraying herself, and as for you--you are resolved that if you marry again, it shall be well and prudently--but you can't forget that look.

And you, great lady of the manor, what takes you so often to the hot, stuffy, little village school-house, where the master, with awe upon his brow, in silence hands you copy-books and samplers? He hardly emits a syllable, but his soul flames beneath those weary eyelids--poor wretch, poor wretch!

Leonore having uttered a few commonplaces to a companion delayed like herself, chanced to glance directly at him. To her he was virtually a stranger, and, to do her justice, she would have talked to any stranger, obeying the sociable instincts which she alone of her family possessed--but to find a pair of fine, dark, luminous...o...b.. fastened eagerly, almost ravenously, upon hers was?--her first emotion was one of great surprise.

It was weeks since young Andrews had secretly elected her to be the lady of his dreams--(when and where he had first beheld her, it boots not here to say)--but he had been content to adore from afar, and had never thrust himself upon her notice,--so that all the concentrated fire of brooding, hopeless pa.s.sion was not only visible, but almost offensive--and yet it was not quite offensive.

The _lady_ within her stiffened, but the _woman_? At least she need not be uncivil; to be haughty and supercilious, as Maud would have been under like circ.u.mstances, went against the grain; she could keep the young man at a distance without hurting his feelings; she--essayed a remark.

Afterwards she laughed to think how that remark was leaped at; how it was turned and twisted and stammered over. For very pity of his hopeless confusion she had to rejoin kindly, and again the words were caught out of her lips, and so on, and so on--and still the postmistress was invisible behind the scenes.

Eventually, as we know, Leonore accepted an escort back to the Abbey when the two errands were accomplished, and a message extracted from her sister threw a properly respectable air over the whole proceeding.

Had things ended there, Dr. Humphrey Craig would not have returned home unexpectedly on the present occasion. But he had heard whispers and caught glimpses--he saw a gossip nudge her neighbour and look up a bye-street; and looking himself, recognised two figures whose backs were turned. Not a word said he; but he watched young Andrews narrowly that evening, and the next, and on the third day he spoke.

He spoke, and the bubble burst.

Ignorant of any cause for the non-delivery of her prescribed tonic which she had arranged to receive herself at one of the park lodges--since General Boldero was not to be annoyed by the suspicion of ill-health, and would infallibly make a fuss if medicines were handed in at the front door--Leonore, after waiting some time in vain, returned home and said nothing about the matter;--but she started a little when she heard a voice in the doorway a few hours later, and found that it proceeded from Dr. Humphrey Craig.

He had not yet rung the bell; and took the liberty of a privileged old friend to hail her instead of doing so.

"Mrs. Stubbs? It was you I wanted to see. If no one's about, I'll step inside for a minute. Eh? It's all right, is it? I've something here for you; but I might have a word first, perhaps?"

She drew him into an empty room.

"This is not a professional visit," nodded he; "you haven't called me in, and there will be no note of it in my tablets,--but I understand from my young man that you are feeling a wee bit run down,--don't be frightened, we'll soon put you to rights--and I thought I'd look in.

How's the appet.i.te?"

Presently it was the sleep--then the spirits, the walking powers;--she was completely put through her facings, her tongue looked at, her pulse felt,--and at length the doctor sat back in his chair. "I have known you from a child, Miss Leonore, ahem--Mrs. Stubbs. Your family has honoured me with its friendship for fifteen years now, and as a friend," with emphasis, "I'm going to lay down the law on this matter. If you'd prefer me to speak to Miss Sue, I will."

"Oh, no--no."

"I thought not," said the doctor, smiling a little grimly. "But if it should become necessary, I shall do it all the same. You must get away from this place. Your father must be made to let you go. Only for a bit, of course,--but that bit I do insist upon. You've been shut up here, fretting, and brooding, for a matter of nearly two years----"

"Indeed, indeed I am quite well."

"You tell Tommy Andrews you're not. Trust me, my dear young lady, you wouldn't have told Tommy anything if you had been. It was, ahem--a foolish thing to do, to consult a raw young apprentice."

"I--I didn't like to trouble you."

"Trouble me? Bless my soul, what am I for? If you hadn't been a wee thing off colour you would never have had such a ridiculous notion.

However, I take it, your father--aye, I see--and you thought if you could quietly get a few bottles of physic, and no questions asked, it would set all to rights. Well, now," proceeded he, on receiving a mute a.s.sent, "I've got a tonic here worth a score of that rubbish Andrews was for giving you. But you need something more than that. I've forbidden that lad of mine, forbidden him _absolutely_ to have you for a patient in future; he's a good lad, but he had mistaken his place, Miss Leonore--Mrs. Stubbs. You understand me? Yes, I thought you would. He will not trouble you any more. While for you, it's not physic you want most, it's a thorough change of life and scene. You must get away--I say, you _must_. Now," rising, "will you manage this, or shall I? It must be done soon, mind."

Voices were heard outside at the moment, and Leonore swiftly turned and opened the door.

"Come in, Sue, come in and find me out. I've been trying to get doctored,"--and she ran on glibly--but directly the conference was over, shamefaced and crestfallen she flew to be alone.

"He saw; oh, how horrible, how detestable! How could I stoop to it?" For hours she rang the changes on this theme.

And the very next day, Sue, alarmed and repentant, herself conveyed her young sister up to London.