The Honorable Miss Part 19

For had he not met Beatrice and incidentally gathered that she would be sure to be on the water that night? And after receiving this information, had he not carefully made his plans, wandering about on the quay just when the Bells were getting into their boat, accepting the invitation eagerly given that he should go on the water with them, and afterwards come home to supper.

"Sophy," Mrs. Bell had gasped, at that critical and triumphant moment in a whisper, pulling her youngest daughter aside, "fly up to Gibb's at the corner, and order in two lobsters for supper. The captain loves lobsters with the coral in them. Be sure you see that they have the coral in them, Sophy. Fly, child. We'll wait for you here."

And Captain Bertram had overheard this whisper, and mentally determined that Beatrice Meadowsweet should also eat lobster with coral in it for supper. Was it likely, therefore, that he would now yield to that impatient tug of Mrs. Bell's rudder? On the contrary, he put out his hand in apparently the most unconscious way, and held the little green boat to the side of the white. In his way he was a diplomat, and even Matty did not suspect that he wanted to do anything but show her a kindness by keeping her in such close conversation with her friend.

"It's getting quite chill," suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Bell. "Girls, it's time for us to be getting home. Your father likes his supper punctually.

Well, Bee, my dear, there's no use in asking you to supper, I suppose?

Of course, more than welcome you'd be if you would come, lovey, but you're such a daughter--one in a thousand. I a.s.sure you, Captain Bertram, I can hardly ever get that girl to leave her mother alone in the evening."

Beatrice laughed.

"It so happens," she said, "that my mother is having tea and supper to-night at Mrs. Butler's. So if you really care to have me, Mrs. Bell, I shall be delighted to come."

Beatrice, the popular, the beloved of all in the town, never knew, never to her dying day, that on a certain memorable occasion, good-humored, fat, pompous Mrs. Bell would have given half a sovereign to box her ears. The astute captain, however, guessed her feelings, and chuckled inwardly. He had also found out during his brief morning's conversation that Mrs. Meadowsweet was going to sup from home.

"How delightful you look, Miss Bell!" he said, suddenly, fixing his dark eyes on Matty.

Their glance caused her to start and blush.

"Mrs. Bell," he said, raising his voice again, "Miss Matty has been so anxious to have Miss Meadowsweet's company this evening. And now we are all happy," he added, gayly. "Shall I give you another riddle, Miss Matty?"

Mrs. Bell's anxious brows relaxed, and she smiled inwardly.

"Poor man! He is over head and ears in love," she murmured. "I suppose he thinks Beatrice will play gooseberry with the other girls, and leave him more chance to be alone with little Matty. She does _not_ look her best, that I will say for her; but, poor fellow, he sees no faults, that's evident. How beautiful the love-light in his eyes is--ah, dear me, it reminds me of the time when I was young, and Bell used to go on his knees to me--Bell hadn't eyes like Captain Bertram though. Dear, dear, he is attentive, poor man, and how close he bends over Matty. I'll help him, so I will. I'll take Beatrice and the other girls away when once we get out of the boat. We four will walk up to the house together, and let Captain Bertram and his little girl follow. Why, of course, she's his little girl; bless her, the dear child! Then when we get in, I'll get Bee and Alice and Sophy to come upstairs by way of consulting how Matty's new dress is to be made, so the two poor things can have the drawing-room to themselves. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he popped there and then. Well, I am gratified. Bertram is a pretty name--Matilda Bertram! She won't like to be known as Matty, then. 'Mrs. Captain Bertram'--it sounds very stylish. I wonder how much money pa will allow for the trousseau. And how am I to manage about the breakfast? None of our rooms are big, and all the town's people will want to be asked. It isn't for me to turn my back on old friends; but I doubt if the Bertrams will like to meet every one, of course, they are the first to be considered. Lor, Sophy, how you startled me; what's the matter, child?"

"You're in a brown study, ma. How much longer are you going to stay in the boat? We have all landed."

"Good gracious! mercy mother! Help me out quick, Sophy, quick! Bee, Beatrice, come and lend me your hand. You are bigger than my girls, and my legs are always a little unsteady in a boat. Oh, not you, Captain Bertram, I beg, I pray. You just go on with Matty to the house, and we'll follow presently. Go on like a good man, and don't bother yourself."

Here she winked broadly at Beatrice, who started and colored.

"I don't want to keep him back," she said, in a broad whisper to the young lady, who was helping her to alight on the steps. "He's over head and ears, and I thought we would give them their chance. You stay close to me, lovey. What a fine strong arm you have! There! Alice hasn't a bit of gumption--as if Matty wanted Alice to walk with her! Alice, come back and help your mother. I'm quite giddy from the motion of the water. Come back, child, I say!"

But it was not Alice who turned. Captain Bertram, with the most gracious gallantry, proffered his arm to the fat old lady, and while he helped her to the house looked again and again at Beatrice.

CHAPTER XIV.

AT HER GATES.

Mr. Bell was as thin as his wife was fat, and as quiet and una.s.suming as she was b.u.mptious and talkative. On the occasion of this memorable supper he very nearly drove his better half into fits by his utter want of observation.

"It's that that worries me in Bell," the good woman was often heard to say. "When a thing is as plain as the nose on his face he won't see it.

And not all my hints will make him see it. Hints!--You might hint forever to Bell, and he wouldn't know what you were driving at."

These remarks Mrs. Bell had made, times without number, concerning her spouse, but never had ehe more cause to give utterance to them than on the present occasion. For just when the whole party were seated at supper, and she by the boldest manoeuvres had placed Captain Bertram next to herself by the coffee-tray, and had planted Matty at his other side, so that he was in a measure hemmed in, and if he did not talk to Matty had no one to fall back on but herself, who, of course, would quickly, using the metaphor of battledore and shuttlec.o.c.k, toss him back to her daughter--having arranged all this, what should Bell do but put his foot in it?

"Captain Bertram," he called in his thin voice across the table, "I hope you enjoyed your row, and I'm proud to see you at my humble board. But come up here, my good young sir; you're quite smothered by the missis and the teacups. We have fine room at this end, haven't we, Beatrice?

You come away up here, Captain Bertram, where you'll have room to use your elbows; the missis mustn't keep you to herself altogether, that ain't fair play."

"Oh, we're as comfortable as possible, Peter," almost screamed Mrs.

Bell.

But in vain. The captain was too acute a person not to seize this opportunity. He said a courteous word or two to Mrs. Bell, apologized for having already crowded her, smiled at Matty, and then with a light heart seated himself beside Beatrice.

After this, matters seemed to go wrong as far as the Bells were concerned. It is true that after supper Beatrice called Matty to her side, and looked over a photographic alb.u.m with her, and tried hard to draw her into the gay conversation and to get her to reply to the light repartee which Captain Bertram so deftly employed. But, alas for poor Matty she had no conversational powers; she was only great at interjections, at ceaseless giggling, and at violent and uncontrollable fits of blushing. Even Beatrice felt a sense of repulsion at the very open way in which Matty played her innocent cards. Matty was in love, and she showed it by voice, look and gesture. Beatrice tried to shield her, she was mortified for her, and felt a burning sense of resentment against the captain.

In spite, however, of the resentment of the one girl, and the too manifest admiration of the other, this hero managed to have pretty much his own way. Beatrice had to reply to his sallies, she was forced to meet his eyes; now and then even he drew a smile from her.

When the time came for Miss Meadowsweet to go home, Albert Bell was eagerly summoned to accompany her.

"This is unnecessary," said the captain; "I will see Miss Meadowsweet back to the Gray House."

"Oh, now, Captain! Bee, don't you think it's really too much for him?"

"Of course I don't, dear Mrs. Bell," said Beatrice, stopping the good lady's lips with a kiss; "but Albert shall come too, so that I shall be doubly escorted."

She nodded and smiled to her hostess, and Mrs. Bell felt a frantic desire to send Matty with her brother, but some slight sense of decorum prevented her making so bare-faced a suggestion.

Albert Bell was very proud to walk with Beatrice, and Captain Bertram felt proportionately sulky. To Albert's delight, who wanted to confide his own love affairs to Bee, the captain said good-night at the top of the High Street.

"As you have an escort I won't come any further," he said. "When are we to see you again? Will you come to the Manor to-morrow?"

"I don't know," said Beatrice, "I've made no plans for to-morrow."

"Then come to us; Catherine told me to ask you. Our tennis court is in prime order. Do come; will you promise?"

"I won't quite promise, but I'll come if I can."

"Thanks; we shall look out for you."

He shook hands, gave her an earnest glance, nodded to Bell and turned away. His evening had been a partial success, but not a whole one. He left Beatrice, as he almost always did, with a sense of irritation. It was her frank and open indifference that impelled him to her side.

Indifference when Captain Bertram chose to woo was an altogether novel experience to so fascinating an individual. Hitherto it had been all the other way. He had flirted many times, and with success. Once even he had fallen in love; he owned to himself that he had been badly hit, but there had been no doubt at all about his love being returned, it had been given back to him in full and abundant measure. He sighed to-night as he thought of that pa.s.sionate episode. He remembered ardent words, and saw again a face which had once been all the world to him.

Separation had come, however; his was not a stable nature, and the old love, the first love, had given place to many minor flirtations.

"I wonder where my old love is now," he thought, and then again he felt a sense of irritation as he remembered Beatrice. "She is quite the coolest girl I have ever met," he said to himself. "But I'll win her yet. Yes, I'm determined. Am I to eat the bread of humiliation in vain?

Faugh! Am I to make love to a creature like Matty Bell in the vain hope of rousing the envy or the jealousy of that proud girl? I don't believe she has got either envy or jealousy. She seemed quite pleased when I spoke to that wretched little personage, although she had the grace to look a trifle ashamed for her s.e.x when Miss Matty so openly made love to me. Well, this is a slow place, and yet, when I think of that haughty--no, though, she's not haughty--that imperturbable Beatrice Meadowsweet, it becomes positively interesting.

"Why has the girl these airs? And her father kept a shop, too! I found that fact out from Matty Bell to-day. What a spiteful, teasing little gnat that same Matty is, trying to sting her best friend. What a little mock ridiculous air she put on when she tried to explain to me the social status of a coal merchant (I presume Bell is a coal merchant) _versus_ a draper."

As Bertram strolled along, avoiding the High Street, and choosing the coast line for his walk, he lazily smoked a pipe, and thought, in that idle indifferent way with which men of his stamp always do exercise their mental faculties, about his future. His past, his present, his possible future rose up before the young fellow. He was hara.s.sed by duns, he was, according to his own way of thinking, reduced to an almost degrading state of poverty. His mother had put her hand to a bill for a considerable amount to save him. He was morally certain that she would have to meet that bill, and when she met it that she would be half ruined. Nevertheless, he felt gay, and light at heart, for men of his cla.s.s are seldom troubled with remorse.

Presently he reached the lodge gates. His mother's fad about having them locked was always religiously kept, and he grumbled now as he sought for a latch-key in his waistcoat-pocket.

He opened the side gate and let himself in; the gate had a spring, and was so constructed that it could shut and lock itself by the same act.

Bertram was preparing to walk quickly up the avenue when he was startled by a sudden morement; a tall slim apparition in gray came slowly out of the darkness, caused by the shadow of the lodge, to meet him.