Leonore Stubbs Part 27

"Lion? Yes, a delightful dog."

"It's awfully funny to see your father with him. When he can't make anything of Foster--he makes no end of a fuss with Foster--but it doesn't always exactly come off--then he panders to the dog. And, you know, they take it exactly in the same way! Lion gives him a bored look, and shakes himself. I think--he--he! his master would like to do the same."

Leo could not but smile; she had noticed the bored look, and once or twice it was even a disgusted one--on Paul's face. She would willingly have caught at the opening, but a moment's hesitation proved fatal. Miss Merivale struck in again and the opportunity was lost.

On the a.s.sembling of the ladies after dinner, Lady b.u.t.ts fell to Leo's share. There was a greater lady present, Lady St. Emeraud, once before mentioned in these pages,--but this august personage, who had, as we know, kissed Leo on her marriage day, took no notice of Mrs. Stubbs on the present occasion. It was only at long intervals that she favoured Boldero Abbey with the light of her countenance, and being a connection of the Fosters, she had now come to see Maud and do the civil in view of the forthcoming alliance.

Accordingly her ladyship spread herself upon the princ.i.p.al sofa, with Sue on one side and Maud on the other,--while the lesser ladyship subsided upon Leo, and Sybil, in the distance, gathered round her the rest of the party, and chattered about wedding arrangements and bridesmaids' dresses.

Leo rather liked Lady b.u.t.ts, who was uniformly amiable and safely unintelligent. She could be trusted not to say anything awkward. She never went below the surface of things; and she had not had Val Purcell's opportunities of seeing Paul Foster at close quarters. Her "Your sister's _fiance_ is charming. And how radiant she looks! How pleased you must all be about it!"--with a few other appropriate plat.i.tudes, dismissed the subject.

Then it was: "You saw my nephew in Town, he told me. Sir Thomas and I only went up for a few weeks, and had left before you and your sister arrived. You had a pleasant time, I hope?"

Leo thanked her, and had had a very pleasant time. She had seen Mr.

b.u.t.ts about, but only to speak to on one occasion.

He had not called?

No, he had not called.

"So rushed he hardly knows what he is doing;" the fond aunt concealed her disappointment, for her hopes had been renewed by the London visit, and she knew nothing of a certain affair which was being conducted independently of her leadership, (and we may add was brought to a successful issue in consequence). "George is simply done to death in the season. We saw next to nothing of him ourselves."

"You will soon _hear_ something of him or I'm mistaken, however,"

mentally commented Leo--and the whole conversation which ensued left but one impression on her mind: How could she ever have chosen the long path whereby to conduct Mr. George b.u.t.ts across the park?

As for poor Tommy Andrews, her feelings about Tommy had undergone a strange revulsion of late. Self-disgust had given way to such a sense of pity and sorrow as made her long to do something, anything, to heal his wound; and instead of wincing when she saw his figure in the distance, she cried out in her heart, "Oh, I am so sorry, so sorry,"--and could have wept for very tenderness of--fellow-feeling.

In the course of the evening Leo found Paul at her elbow; he had returned from seeing some departing guests to their carriage, and paused near the door where she was standing.

"It is a fine fresh night," he remarked, cheerfully.

"Has the moon come out?" said she. "It was raining a little while ago."

"The rain has stopped, and the moonlight is glorious. I saw you flitting about in the dusk this afternoon," continued Paul, smiling. "I was coming your way, but I turned off. I didn't feel sure that my company would be welcome. One likes to be alone sometimes."

"Yes. I--I do. I do like it;" emphatically.

"That's flat." This time he laughed outright, seeming so much amused by her brusquerie, that she perceived how it must have struck him.

No matter, it was as well he should be thus struck. He would know for the future.

"Your grounds are so extensive that you have a pretty wide range for your rambles," resumed Paul, in the same easy, friendly accents; "you can walk all the way to Claymount without touching the road, young Purcell tells me; and as for the paths, they seem to be legion; I should get lost if I attempted to wander about by myself."

"Don't wander then; I advise you not. You really might get lost."

"And then if I fell in with you I should be obliged to throw myself on your mercy, which would be a terrible catastrophe."

"Oh, I should soon get rid of you," she made an effort to retort in the same light tone; "I should say--" she paused, "I should say, 'Maud is there,' and you would fly."

"Is Maud then a woodland nymph also?"

Was it her own fancy or was there an almost imperceptible pause before he spoke? And did the gay tone of the minute before undergo ever so slight a modification? Leo made answer with rather forced jocularity.

"It would be my ruse for throwing you off, don't you see? I should not be positive absolutely that Maud was there, or anywhere--but you could look. You _might_ find her--or you might not. But anyhow you would not find me if you came back."

"I am to give you a wide berth then, always?"

"Always."

CHAPTER XIV.

PAUL GOES--AND RETURNS.

"Is Paul going to stay here _all_ the time?" abruptly demanded Leonore one day.

"That's what I want to know." Her father's voice made answer from the depths of an easy-chair; and it was a disconcerting answer, for he had been un.o.bserved, indeed unseen. Had his head appeared above the back of the chair, Leo would have left the library as suddenly as she had entered it. She had thought Sue was alone.

"Of course if he wishes to stay, he can," proceeded the general, laying down his paper; "but it's a monstrous long time--that's to say, hum--ha--there are still three weeks till the twenty-fifth, and he has been here three weeks already."

"I am sure he is the best of guests," said Sue, gently.

"Oh, the best of guests, no doubt. Bothers n.o.body. Still----"

"Has anything been said?"--interposed Leo. She was drawing quick, impatient breaths, and had an air of giving battle, if not replied to as desired.

No, nothing had been said, but Sue believed----

"If you only _believe_, that's no good. Can't you tell him to go? Can't you say it isn't the thing for him to stay on and on?"----

"My dear Leo!"

"Highty-tighty!--" simultaneously e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the general, "here's fierceness!" But he looked amused. "If Paul were your sweetheart, young lady, you wouldn't be in such a hurry to have him sent to the right-about. However, there's something in it, Sue."

Sue looked distressed. "Remember what you said when he first came, father. How repeatedly you told him to make this his headquarters,--and there is another thing. The engagement took place so soon after he and Maud met, that they could not have known very much of each other. Hardly enough, perhaps. Don't you think it is as well----"

"What is there to know?" struck in Leo, vehemently. "If they are in love, as we presume they are----" she stopped short.

"Certainly," murmured Sue.

"Why, aye, that's all that's needed, no doubt," a.s.sented the general, with a bland expression. "Leo has. .h.i.t the nail upon the head. Those two are in love with each other----"

"I said '_if_,'" said Leo, loudly.

"'If--well 'if,' Madam Sceptic,--but I suppose you will allow they have taken the only means in their power of showing it? Well, what more do they want but to get married as fast as they can?"