The Eldest Son Part 25

"There's no reason why you shouldn't get married if you want to," said Walter.

"I don't know whether it would surprise you to know that I do want to,"

replied Humphrey.

Walter looked at him in surprise. "My dear chap," he said, "I'm awfully glad. Who is it?"

"Well, I hadn't meant to say anything until I saw how the land lay, so keep it to yourself for the present. It's Susan Clinton."

Walter looked a little blank. He had not been particularly charmed either with Lady Aldeburgh or her daughter, and he was too straightforward to feign an enthusiasm which he did not feel. "Will she have you?" he asked.

"Oh, I think so," said Humphrey. "We're very good pals. But, of course, there's Aldeburgh to settle with, or rather her ladyship, because he lets 'em go their own way and he goes his. It can't be said to be much of a match. Still, there are four other girls, two of them out and about, and if the governor sees his way to greasing the wheels, I ought to be able to pull it off."

There was something about this speech which displeased Walter. He knew Humphrey's way of talking and he knew that his dwelling on the financial side of a marriage, even before he was engaged, might possibly hide a feeling which he would not want to express. But somehow he found it difficult to believe that this speech did hide any particular feeling for Lady Susan Clinton, and equally difficult to infuse any particular warmth into his congratulations.

"Well, I'm glad you told me," he said. "If you want to pull it off I hope you will, and I shouldn't think there would be much difficulty about money. Besides, you want far less when you're married than you'd think. Muriel and I aren't spending anything like what we've got, and we're as happy as possible. I'd advise every fellow to get married, if he finds a girl who'll fit in with him."

"Susan and I will fit in together all right," replied Humphrey, "but we've both been used to crashing about a good deal, and I'm afraid we shouldn't save much on your income. Besides, Muriel brought you something, and I don't think Aldeburgh will be likely to cough up much with Susan. We shall be as poor as church mice, anyhow. But if she don't mind that I don't particularly, as long as we have enough to get along on."

Walter knew well enough that Humphrey hated above all things to feel poor, and decided that if he was not wishing to marry Susan Clinton for what she could bring him, he must really love her, in spite of his mercenary speech. "Well, old chap," he said, with more warmth, "I'm sure I hope you'll be happy. I haven't spoken to her much, but she seems a jolly good sort, and she's a sort of relation already, I suppose. So we ought all to get on with her. Well, I think I'll go and lie down for a bit before breakfast."

But Humphrey still had something to say, something which he seemed to find it rather difficult to say. "d.i.c.k and I are not particularly good friends now," he began.

"Oh, he was annoyed at your letting out something or other about his Lady George," said Walter. "But he's all right, really."

"I shouldn't like him to think," said Humphrey, "that I was working against him with the governor. But, of course, if he does marry her, and the governor does what he's threatened to do--well, it would make a lot of difference to me."

"He's not likely to think you worked that," said Walter rather coldly.

"And I hope it won't happen. Good-night."

The next morning the whole party went to church, with the exception of Lady Aldeburgh, who was averse to making engagements as early as eleven o'clock. The Squire was displeased at this defection on her part, and when Bobby Trench came into the hall, as they were setting out, on his way to the smoking-room, with a pipe in his mouth and a novel under his arm, he said to him, "Haven't you got a watch? It's ten minutes to eleven. You'll be late for church."

"To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking of going," replied Bobby Trench. "Still, I may as well. I can write my bits of letters afterwards."

The Squire grunted and went out. "I'll see that that young cub behaves himself as long as he's here, at any rate," he said to Mrs. Clinton.

Bobby Trench winked at Lady Susan, who was standing alone in the hall.

"Cheery sort of place to come to, isn't it?" he said. "Makes you think yourself back at school again."

She turned away from him without smiling. "I'm enjoying myself very much," she said.

"The deuce you are," said Bobby Trench to himself as he went to deposit his pipe and his book in the smoking-room. "Sits the wind in that quarter? But never again, Robert, never again!"

After church Humphrey said to Susan Clinton, "Come and see old Aunt Laura with me. She can't get out much in the winter, but she likes to see people."

So they went to the little house in the village and found Aunt Laura nursing the fire, with a Shetland shawl round her bent old shoulders and a large Church Service on the table by her side.

She was flattered by the visit of Lady Susan, but a little anxious lest she should be carrying about any false impression of the relative importance of the various families of Clinton. "It must be very nice for you to come to Kencote, my dear," she said. "I dare say you have often thought about it and wished to see the place. Your great-grandfather--oh, but I suppose he was much more than that, great-great-great, very likely--did not behave at all well, but that is all forgiven and forgotten now, and I am sure there is n.o.body at Kencote now who is not pleased to see you."

"What did my great-great-grandfather do, Miss Clinton?" enquired Lady Susan indulgently. "I'm sorry he didn't behave well."

"Oh, my dear, haven't you read about it? It is all in the book about the Clintons--a very interesting book indeed. He was a younger son and he fought for the Dissenters against King Charles the First, and when King Charles was beheaded Oliver Cromwell turned his eldest brother, who of course was a Royalist, out of Kencote and gave it to your ancestor. When King Charles the Second came to the throne he gave it back to its rightful owner, but your ancestor had made a good deal of money, I'm sure I don't know how, and he was enn.o.bled in the reign of King William and Queen Mary, but I don't know what for. I dare say the Clintons of Kencote could have been enn.o.bled many times over if they had liked, but for my part I am glad they never were. There are very few commoners' families in England who have gone on for so many years in one place."

"Oh, I know," said Lady Susan, with an arch glance at Humphrey. "I have been told that."

"Only once by me," replied Humphrey. "I thought you had better know where you stood once for all. You belong to quite the junior branch, you know, and you must be properly humbled when you come to Kencote."

"Oh, there is no necessity for humility," said Aunt Laura, who so long as she felt that matters were thoroughly understood was anxious that her visitor should not be unduly cast down. "There are other good families in England besides the Clintons, and of course you do belong to us in a way, my dear."

"We like her to feel that she belongs to us, don't we, Aunt Laura?"

said Humphrey, looking at the girl and not at the old lady.

Lady Susan blushed. "Oh, of course I belong to you," she said hurriedly, not meeting his gaze. "And I think Kencote is a lovely place, much better than Thatchover, where we live."

"Ah, I have never seen that," said Aunt Laura. "I have seen Kemsale, my cousin Humphrey's place. I hear there is to be a ball there to-morrow night, and I suppose you are all going. I shall not be able to be present, although I have received an invitation. It was very thoughtful of Eleanor Kemsale to send me one. She must have known that my advanced age would make it impossible for me to accept, but she knew also that I should feel it if I were left out, for for a number of years there was no entertainment of that sort at Kemsale to which I and my dear sisters, who are now all dead, were not invited."

Lady Susan had been looking round the room. "What lovely old prints you have!" she said.

"They are old-fashioned things," replied Aunt Laura, "but I like them.

They do not actually belong to me. I brought them from the dower-house, where I and my sisters lived for a number of years. But wait--if you will come into the dining-room, where there is a fire and you need not be afraid of catching cold, I will show you something that does belong to me, and very pleased I am to have it."

"Oh, I think we'd better stay here, Aunt Laura," said Humphrey.

But Aunt Laura had already risen. "No, Humphrey," she said. "I must show Lady Susan the present you gave me, which has afforded me the greatest pleasure."

So they followed her into the little square, panelled dining-room, where she led them to an old engraving of "Kencote Park, Meadshire, the Seat of John Clinton, Esq.," which showed, besides the many-windowed, rectangular house, a large sheet of water with a Grecian temple on its banks, and certain gentlemen in tall hats and ladies with parasols feeding swans and apparently refusing the invitation of one of their number, who was seated in a boat, to go for a nice row.

"That is the house," explained Aunt Laura, "as it was when my grandfather altered it, and made the lake, which is now all grown round with rhododendrons and other trees, so that you cannot see it, as it is represented there. But I think it is a fine picture."

She put her little grey head crowned by its cap of lace and ribbons on one side, bird-like, as if she were trying to judge how the house might strike a stranger. "It was not in that house your ancestor lived," she told Lady Susan. "That was burnt down, more's the pity, for I believe it was still larger and finer than the present one. I should like to possess a picture of it, but that is impossible because none exists.

At any rate, it was very kind of Humphrey to find this one for me and have it well framed, as you see, and give it to me for a Christmas present. It is such little attentions as that that people value, my dear, when they come to my age."

As they walked away along the village street Lady Susan said to Humphrey, "I do think it was nice of you to give the old lady that picture. It seems to have pleased her very much."

"Oh, it was nothing," said Humphrey. "And she's worth pleasing."

"Yes, I think she's very nice," Lady Susan agreed.

"I'm glad you like her," said Humphrey, "and I think she's disposed to like you. I say, I wish you'd go and look her up with the twins some time to-morrow--without me, I mean. They go to see her every day, and she'd take it as a compliment if you went again of your own accord."

"Oh, certainly I will," said Lady Susan.

CHAPTER XVII

SUNDAY AND MONDAY

On Monday some of the party a.s.sembled at Kencote hunted, but the Squire, who had given up hunting for the season for reasons we know of, went out with Sir Herbert Birkett and George Senhouse to walk up partridges, and shoot whatever else came to their guns in an easy, pottering way. Although he would not have admitted it, he was getting quite reconciled to the loss of his favourite sport. His wide lands afforded him plenty of game, and he enjoyed these small days with a few guns, walking for miles through roots and over gra.s.s, and watching his dogs work, descendants of the famous breed of pointers which had been the pride of his sporting old grandfather. He thought they had not been given half enough to do of late years, and now that his mind was turned in another direction he had begun to feel keenly interested and to follow it up with vigour. "Driven birds are all very well," he said to his brother-in-law as they set out. "They're more difficult to hit and you get more shooting. But you don't get so much sport. Any c.o.c.kney who's got the trick of it can bring 'em down."