Love Me Little, Love Me Long Part 34

"No," said David, sullenly.

Eve, who hated Mr. Talboys, and saw through his sneers, bit her lip and colored, but kept silence.

But Mr. Talboys, unwarned by her flashing eye, proceeded with his ironical interrogatory, and then it was that Eve, reflecting that both these gentlemen had done their worst against David, and that henceforth the battlefield could never again be Font Abbey, decided for revenge. She stepped forward like an airy sylph, between David and his persecutor, and said, with a charming smile, "I will explain, sir."

Mr. Talboys bowed and smiled.

"The reason my brother carries this side-saddle is that it belongs to a charming young lady--you have some little acquaintance with her--Miss Fountain."

"Miss Fountain!" cried Talboys, in a tone from which all the irony was driven out by Eve's coup.

"She begged David to ride her pony home; she would not trust him to anybody else."

"Oh!" said Talboys, stupefied.

"Well, sir, owing to--to--an accident, the saddle came off, and the pony ran home; so then David had only her saddle to take care of for her."

"Why, we escorted Miss Fountain to Royston, and we never saw Mr.

Dodd."

"Ay, but you did not go beyond Royston," said Eve, with a cunning air.

"Beyond Royston? where? and what was he doing there? Did he go all that way to take her orders about her pony?" said Talboys, bitterly.

"Oh, as to that you must excuse me, sir," cried Eve, with a scornful laugh; "that is being too inquisitive. Good-morning"; and she carried David off in triumph.

The next moment Mr. Talboys spurred on, followed by the phaeton.

Talboys' face was yellow.

_"La langue d'une femme est son epee."_

"Sheer off and repair damages, you lubber," said David, dryly, "and don't come under our guns again, or we shall blow you out of the water. Hum! Eve, wasn't your tongue a little too long for your teeth just now?"

"Not an inch."

"She might be vexed; it is not for me to boast of her kindness."

"Temper won't let a body see everything. I'll tell you what I have done, too--I've declared war."

"Have you? Then run the Jack up to the mizzen-top, and let us fight it out."

"That is the way to look at it, David. Now don't you speak to me till we get home; let me think."

At the gate of Font Abbey, they parted, and Eve went home. David came to the stable yard and hailed, "Stable ahoy!" Out ran a little bandy-legged groom. "The craft has gone adrift," cried David, "but I've got the gear safe. Stow it away"; and as he spoke he chucked the saddle a distance of some six yards on to the bandy-legged groom, who instantly staggered back and sank on a little dunghill, and there sat, saddled, with two eyes like saucers, looking stupefied surprise between the pommels.

"It is you for capsizing in a calm," remarked David, with some surprise, and went his way.

"Well, Eve, have you thought?"

"Yes, David, I was a little hasty; that puppy would provoke a saint.

After all there is no harm done; they can't hurt us much now. It is not here the game will be played out. Now tell me, when does your ship sail?"

"It wants just five weeks to a day."

"Does she take up her pa.s.sengers at ---- as usual?"

"Yes, Eve, yes."

"And Mrs. Bazalgette lives within a mile or two of ----. You have a good excuse for accepting her invitation. Stay your last week in her house. There will be no Talboys to come between you. Do all a man can do to win her in that week."

"I will."

"And if she says 'No,' be man enough to tear her out of your heart."

"I can't tear her out of my heart, but I will win her. I must win her.

I can't live without her. A month to wait!"

Mr. Talboys. "Well, sir, what do you say now?"

Mr. Fountain (hypocritically). "I say that your sagacity was superior to mine; forgive me if I have brought you into a mortifying collision. To be defeated by a merchant sailor!" He paused to see the effect of his poisoned shaft.

Talboys. "But I am not defeated. I will not be defeated. It is no longer a personal question. For your sake, for her sake, I must save her from a degrading connection. I will accompany you to Mrs.

Bazalgette's. When shall we go?"

"Well, not immediately; it would look so odd. The old one would smell a rat directly. Suppose we say in a month's time."

"Very well; I shall have a clear stage."

"Yes, and I shall then use all my influence with her. Hitherto I have used none."

"Thank you. Mr. Dodd cannot penetrate there, I conclude."

"Of course not."

"Then she will be Mrs. Talboys."

"Of course she will."

Lucy sighed a little over David's ardent, despairing pa.s.sion, and his pale and drawn face. Her woman's instinct enabled her to comprehend in part a pa.s.sion she was at this period of her life incapable of feeling, and she pitied him. He was the first of her admirers she had ever pitied. She sighed a little, then fretted a little, then reproached herself vaguely. "I must have been guilty of some imprudence--given some encouragement. Have I failed in womanly reserve, or is it all his fault? He is a sailor. Sailors are like n.o.body else. He is so simple-minded. He sees, no doubt, that he is my superior in all sterling qualities, and that makes him forget the social distance between him and me. And yet why suspect him of audacity? Poor fellow, he had not the courage to _say_ anything to me, after all. No; he will go to sea, and forget his folly before he comes back." Then she had a gust of egotism. It was nice to be loved ardently and by a hero, even though that hero was not a gentleman of distinction, scarcely a gentleman at all. The next moment she blushed at her own vanity. Next she was seized with a sense of the great indelicacy and unpardonable impropriety of letting her mind run at all upon a person of the other s.e.x; and shaking her lovely shoulders, as much as to say, "Away idle thoughts," she nestled and fitted with marvelous suppleness into a corner of the carriage, and sank into a sweet sleep, with a red cheek, two wet eyelashes, and a half-smile of the most heavenly character imaginable. And so she glided along till, at five in the afternoon, the carriage turned in at Mr. Bazalgette's gates. Lucy lifted her eyes, and there was quite a little group standing on the steps to receive her, and waving welcome to the universal pet. There was Mr. Bazalgette, Mrs. Bazalgette, and two servants, and a little in the rear a tall stranger of gentleman-like appearance.

The two ladies embraced one another so rapidly yet so smoothly, and so dovetailed and blended, that they might be said to flow together, and make one in all but color, like the Saone and the Rhone. After half a dozen kisses given and returned with a spirit and rapidity from which, if we male spectators of these ardent encounters were wise, we might slyly learn a lesson, Aunt Bazalgette suddenly darted her mouth at Lucy's ear, and whispered a few words with an animation that struck everybody present. Lucy smiled in reply. After "the meeting of the muslins," Mr. Bazalgette shook hands warmly, and at last Lucy was introduced to his friend Mr. Hardie, who expressed in courteous terms his hopes that her journey had been a pleasant one.

The animated words Mrs. Bazalgette whispered into Lucy's ear at that moment of burning affection were as follows: