Love's Shadow Part 39

'I'm not so sure of that,' murmured Sir Charles.

'I merely replied that I had a great deal to do, and could make no engagements at present. I did not like to hurt her feelings by pointing out the glaring incongruity of her suggestion, but really I was astonished; and when I said this about the engagements, she answered, "Oh well, never mind; no doubt we shall often meet here," almost as if she guessed my strong aversion to seeing her at Hyacinth's house. Then she went away; and I took the opportunity to advise Hyacinth against encouraging her. Hyacinth seemed extremely vexed and did not take my suggestion at all well. So now, if I know I am to run the risk of meeting that person there and, as I say, am to give advice to no purpose, I prefer to keep away altogether.'

'Did you ask Hyacinth how it was Miss Yeo turned up again?'

'I did; and she answered that Anne could not live without her I Did you ever hear of anything so ridiculous in your life?'

'One can understand it,' said Sir Charles.

'I can't. What use can she possibly be to Hyacinth?'

'It isn't only a question of use, I suppose. They've been great friends for years, but as far as that goes, there's not the slightest doubt Anne could be of great use if she chose. Hyacinth isn't practical, and has never learnt to be, and Anne is.'

'Then you approve?' said Lady Cannon in a low voice of anger; 'you defend my being insulted, contradicted, and--and--asked to play dumb crambo by such a person as Miss Yeo!'

'Oh, no, my dear; of course I don't. But I daresay she didn't mean to be rude; she was always rather eccentric, and she can be very tactful when she likes. She never was in the slightest degree in the way when she was Hyacinth's companion and actually lived with her, so I don't see how she possibly can be now by going to see her occasionally. Really, I rather like Anne Yeo.'

'Oh, you do,' said his wife furiously; 'then I regret to say we differ very radically. It is _most_ unnecessary that you should like her at all.'

'No doubt it is unnecessary, but how can it possibly hurt you? When I say I like her, I mean that I have a friendly sort of feeling for her. I think she's a very good sort, that's all.'

'Then perhaps if _you_ were Cecil Reeve you would like her to live in the house altogether?'

'Oh, I don't go so far as that,' said Sir Charles.

'What I _can't_ get over,' continued Lady Cannon, who could never forgive the slightest opposition, and was intensely annoyed and surprised at her husband for once being of a different opinion, 'what I _can't_ forgive is her astonishing interference on the question of Jane's sister! When I know that it is the very situation to suit the girl! Now, in future, whatever difficulty Hyacinth may be in, I shall never come forward again with _my_ help and experience. I wash my hands of it. It was bad enough before; Hyacinth forgot every single thing I told her, but she never contradicted me and seemed grateful for my advice. But now--now that she has that creature to make her believe that my opinions are not worth considering, of course it is all over. I am sorry for Hyacinth, very sorry. By this, by her own folly, she loses a chance that very few young married women have--a chance of getting an under-housemaid, whose sister has been with me for five years! I have no doubt whatever in my own mind that it would have been arranged today, and that I should have brought the good news back to Jane, if it hadn't been for that unpleasant and unnecessary Miss Yeo. Poor thing! It is very hard on her.'

'What extraordinary creatures women are!' said Sir Charles.

'May I ask whom you are pitying now, Anne or Hyacinth?'

'Neither,' said Lady Cannon, with dignity as she left the room.

'I was pitying Jane's sister.'

CHAPTER x.x.xII

The Drive

From time to time invitations had been received from the Selseys, all of which Cecil had asked Hyacinth to refuse on various pretexts. As she was convinced that he intended never to see Lady Selsey again if he could possibly help it, she made no objection, and did not even remark to him that it would look odd.

One afternoon Cecil was in St James's Street when he remembered that there was an exhibition at Carfax's. He strolled in, and was for the moment quite taken by surprise at the evident gaiety of the crowd. It seemed so incongruous to hear laughter at a private view, where it is now usual to behave with the embarra.s.sed and respectful gloom appropriate to a visit of condolence (with the corpse in the next room).

Then he remembered that it was an exhibition of Max Beerbohm's caricatures, and that people's spirits were naturally raised at the sight of the cruel distortions, ridiculous situations, and fantastic misrepresentations of their friends and acquaintances on the walls.

Cecil was smiling to himself at a charming picture of the Archbishop of Canterbury, when someone touched him on the shoulder.

He turned round. It was Lord Selsey with his wife. He looked suave and debonair as ever, with his touch of attenuated Georgian dandyism. She had not changed, nor had her long brown eyes lost their sly and fascinating twinkle. Evidently Lord Selsey had not been able--if indeed he had tried--to persuade her to take much trouble about her appearance, but he had somehow succeeded in making her carelessness seem picturesque. The long, rather vague cloak that she wore might pa.s.s--at any rate, in a picture-gallery--as artistic, and the flat hat with its long brown feather suggested a Rembrandt, and must have been chosen for her against her will, no doubt by her husband. She really looked particularly plain this afternoon, but at the first glance Cecil admired her as much as ever.

'It's most fortunate we've met you. I have to go on somewhere, and you must drive Eugenia home. You must have a lot to talk about,' Lord Selsey said.

Cecil began to make an excuse.

'Oh, you can't refuse! Are you afraid of me? Don't you want to have a talk with your aunt?' said Eugenia.

He had no choice, and ten minutes later found himself driving in a hansom with his old love.

'Well, tell me, Cecil, aren't you happy? Weren't we quite right?'

'Of course,' said he.

'What an absurd boy you are. It's nice to see you again. I feel just like a mother to you. When am I going to see Hyacinth? Why won't you let me be friends with her? I fell in love with her at first sight. I suppose she worships you, eh? And you take it as a matter of course, and give yourself airs. Oh, I know you! I like Ted very much. He's a wonderful man. He knows everything. He's--what's the word--volatile?

No, versatile. He's a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge. He can write Persian poetry as soon as look at you, and everything he hasn't learnt he knows by instinct. He has the disposition of an angel and the voice of a gazelle. No, wait a minute; do I mean gazelles? Gazelles don't sing, do they? I must mean nightingales. He sings and plays really beautifully. Why didn't you tell me what a rare creature your uncle is?

He has the artistic temperament, as they call it--without any of the nasty temper and horrid unpunctuality that goes with it. I really do admire Ted, Cecil. I think he's perfect.'

'That is most satisfactory,' said Cecil.

She burst out laughing.

'Oh, Cecil, you haven't changed a bit! But marvellous and angelic as Ted is, it's a sort of relief in a way to meet an ordinary man. _You_ don't know all about everything, do you? If I asked you the most difficult question about art or science or history or metaphysics, or even dress, you wouldn't be able to answer it, would you? Do you always keep your temper? Is your judgement thoroughly sound? Can you talk modern Greek, and Arabian? I think not. You're full of faults, and delightfully ignorant and commonplace. And it's jolly to see you again.'

'Eugenia, you're the same as ever. Don't go home yet. Let's go for a drive.'

'But oughtn't you to go back to your wife? I daresay she's counting the minutes. Nothing could ever grow prosaic to her, not even being married to you.'

'She's gone out somewhere, with Anne Yeo, I think. Do, Eugenia; I shall never ask you again. Just for once, like old times. I couldn't stand the idea of going to see you at Selsey House; it depressed and irritated me.

This is different.'

'All right,' said Eugenia. 'Then make the most of it. I shan't do it again.'

'Where shall we drive?'

'I've always wondered what happened at the very end of the Cromwell Road. Let's drive there, and then you can leave me at home. That will be quite a long way. It's rather a mad idea, Cecil, but it's fun. Isn't it just like Ted to ask you to take me home? You see what a darling, clever creature he is. He guessed--he knew we should be a little excited at meeting again. He wanted to get it over by leaving us quite free to talk.'

'I must say I shouldn't have done that in his place,' said Cecil.

'Oh, you! You might have had some cause of jealousy. He never could. But don't think I shall allow any more freaks like this. In a way I'm rather pleased you haven't forgotten me, Cecil.'

'Who could ever forget you? Who could ever get tired of you?'

'You could; and you would have by now, if I had been foolish enough to marry you.'

She seemed to Cecil, as ever, a delightful medley of impulses, whims, and fancies. For him there was always some magic about her; in her pale radiance he still found the old dazzling, unaccountable charm....

'Hyacinth, do let us score off Lady Cannon, and get the housemaid without her help.'