Sparrows Part 4

Mavis clambered into the cart and was driven quickly from the station.

At the top of the hill, they turned sharp to the right, and rolled along the Bathminster road. Mavis first noticed how much the town had been added to since she had last set foot in it; then she became conscious that distances, which in her childhood had seemed to be considerable, were now trivial.

The man driving her had been a gentleman's servant; seeing that Mavis belonged to a cla.s.s of life which he had been accustomed to serve, he treated her with becoming respect. Mavis incorrectly argued from the man's deference that it had been decided to secure her services: her heart leapt, her colour heightened at her good fortune.

If a few moments of pleasure are worth purchasing at a cost of many hours of crowded disappointment, it was as well that Mavis was ignorant of the way in which her prospects had been prejudiced by the trend of events at Melkbridge House since Mrs Devitt had replied to Miss Mee's letter. To begin with, Mavis's visit had been within an ace of being indefinitely postponed; it was owing to Harold's expressed wish that the original appointment had been allowed to stand. The reason for this indifference to Mavis's immediate future was that, the day after the schoolmistress had written, Harold had been seriously indisposed. His symptoms were so alarming that his doctor had insisted on having a further opinion; this was obtained from a Bathminster physician, who had confirmed the local medical man's diagnosis; he had also advised Harold a month's rest on his back, this to be followed by a nine months' residence abroad. As if this were not enough to interfere with Mavis's visit, Montague Devitt had met young Sir Archibald Windebank, the bachelor owner of Hayc.o.c.k. Abbey, when going to discharge his duties as borough magistrate, the performance of which he believed might ease his mind of the pain occasioned by his son's illness.

After he had told Windebank his bad news, and the latter had expressed his genuine concern, Devitt had said:

"Do you remember Keeves--Colonel Keeves?"

"Of Melkbridge Court? Of course. Why?"

"I heard something of his daughter the other day."

"Little Mavis!"

"She's big Mavis now," remarked Devitt.

"Have you seen her?" asked Windebank eagerly.

"Not yet, but I may very soon."

"She promised to be an awfully pretty girl. Is she?"

"I haven't seen her. But if she comes down you might care to call."

"Thanks," replied Windebank. "When you see her, you might mention I asked after her."

"I will."

"Although I don't suppose she'll remember me after all these years."

Devitt had left Windebank and gone about his business. When he came out of the court house, and was about to get into his motor, Windebank again approached him, but in such a manner that made Devitt wonder if he had been hanging about on purpose to speak to him.

Windebank made one or two remarks about nothing in particular. Devitt was about to start, when the other said:

"By the way, when you do see Miss Keeves, you might tell her that the mater and my sister will be down here next week and that they'll be awfully pleased to see her, if she'd care to come and stay."

"I won't forget," replied Devitt dryly.

"Tell her to come for as long as she cares to, as the mater and Celia were always fond of her. None of us could ever make out what became of her."

"I won't forget," said Devitt again.

"Thanks. Good-bye."

Montague told his wife of this; she had replied:

"We will decide nothing till we see her," which meant that, if Mavis had not fulfilled the promise of her childhood, and had grown up plain, there would be some prospect of her being engaged in some capacity in the Devitt family, as her acquaintance with the big people about Melkbridge might result in introducing Victoria within the charmed circle, without prejudicing the latter's chances of making a brilliant match. Mrs Devitt's words likewise meant that, if Mavis were charming or pretty, her prospects of securing an engagement would be of the slenderest.

Mavis, ignorant of these considerations, was driven to the door of Melkbridge House. On getting out of the cart, the front door was opened by Hayter, the fat butler, who showed her into the drawing-room. Left to herself, Mavis looked about the expensively furnished room. Noticing a mirror, she walked to it in order to see if hair or hat had been disarranged by her journey and drive; as she looked at her comely reflection, she could not help seeing with a thrill of satisfaction that already the change of air, together with the excitement of the occasion, had flushed her cheeks with colour; she was looking her best.

She walked to the window and looked in the direction of her old home, which was on a slight eminence about a mile from where she stood: were the time of year other than summer, its familiar outlines would not have been obscured by foliage. Mavis sighed, turned her back on the window and walked towards the fireplace; something moving in the cool, carefully shaded room caught her eye. It was the propitiatory wagging of a black, c.o.c.ker spaniel's tail, while its eyes were looking pleadingly up to her. Mavis loved all animals; in a moment the spaniel was in her lap, her arms were about its neck, and she was pressing her soft, red lips to its head. The dog received these demonstrations of affection with delight; although it pawed and clawed the only decent frock which Mavis possessed, she did not mind a bit.

"I shall be here a long time and we shall always be the best of friends," murmured Mavis, as she pressed the affectionate animal to her heart.

Mavis waited half an hour in the drawing-room before anyone came.

Victoria was the first to join her; she entered the room with a frank smile, together with an apology for having kept Mavis waiting. The latter took to Miss Devitt at once, congratulating herself on her good fortune at the prospect of living with such congenial companions as Miss Devitt and the dog. Victoria explained that her brother's illness was responsible for Mavis having been treated with apparent neglect.

"I am so sorry," replied Mavis. "Is it serious?"

"Not at present, but it may be."

"How dreadful it must be for you, who love him!"

"We are all of us used to seeing my brother more or less ill; he has been a cripple for the last eight years."

"How very sad! But if your brother is worse, why didn't you wire and put me off?"

"You would have been disappointed if we had."

"I should have understood."

Then, after making further sympathetic reference to Harold's condition, Mavis said:

"What a dear dog this is! Is he yours?"

"It's Harold's. She's no business to be in here. She'll dirty your dress."

"I don't mind in the least."

"Let me turn her out," said Victoria, as she rose from her seat.

"Please don't. I love to have her with me," pleaded Mavis, adding, as Victoria acceded to her request:

"Don't you like dogs?"

"In their proper place. Jill wouldn't be allowed in at all if Harold didn't sometimes wish it."

"If I had a house, it should be full of dogs," remarked Mavis.

"I understand that you were born near here."

"Yes, at Melkbridge Court."

"I don't know what time you go back, but, after luncheon--of course you'll stay--you might take the opportunity of your being down here to have a look at the old place."

"I--I might," faltered Mavis, who suddenly felt as if all the happiness had been taken out of her life; for Miss Devitt's words hinted that her family was not going to keep Mavis at Melkbridge House.