The Marriage of Elinor Part 10

"Nothing but novels! Oh, if you go in for mathematics and that sort of thing, Nell! the novels are too deep for me. Don't say poetry, if you love me. I could stand most things from you, Nell, you little darling--but, Nell, if you come spouting verses all the time----"

His look of horror made Elinor laugh. "You need not be afraid. I never spout verses," she said.

"Come along this way a little, where we can see the road. All women seem to like poetry. There's a few fellows I don't mind myself. Ingoldsby, now that's something fine. We had him at school, and perhaps it was the contrast from one's lessons. Do you know Ingoldsby, Nell?"

"A--little--I have read some----"

"Ah, you like the sentimental best. There's Whyte Melville, then, there's always something melancholy about him--'When the old horse died,' and that sort of thing--makes you cry, don't you know. You all like that. Certainly, if that dog-cart had been coming here it must have come by this time."

"Yes, it must have come," Elinor admitted, with a little wonder at the importance which he gave to this possible incident. "But there is another train at two if you are very anxious to see this man."

"Oh, I'm not anxious to see him," said Mr. Compton, with a laugh, "but probably he will want to see me. No, Nell, you will not expect me to read poetry to you while we're away. There's quite a library at Lomond's place. You can amuse yourself there when I'm shooting; not that I shall shoot much, or anything that takes me away from my Nell. But you must come out with us. There is no such fun as stumping over the moors--the Jew has got all the turn-out for that sort of thing--short frocks and knickerbockers, and a duck of a little breech-loader. She thinks she's a great shot, poor thing, and men are civil and let her imagine that she's knocked over a pheasant or a hare, now and then. As for the partridges, she lets fly, of course, but to say she hits anything----"

"I should not want to hit anything," said Elinor. "Oh, please Phil! I will try anything else you like, but don't make me shoot."

"You little humbug! See what you'll say when you get quite clear of the old lady. But I don't want you to shoot, Nell. If you don't get tired sitting at home, with all of us out on the hill, I like to come in for my part and find a little duck all tidy, not blowzy and blown about by the wind, like the Jew with her ridiculous bag, that all the fellows sn.i.g.g.e.r at behind her back."

"You should not let any fellow laugh at your sister, Phil----"

"Oh, as for that! they are all as thick with her as I am, and why should I interfere? But I promise you n.o.body shall cut a joke upon my Nell."

"I should hope not, indeed," said Elinor, indignant; "but as for your 'fellows,' Phil, as you call them, you mustn't be angry with me, but I don't much like those gentlemen; they are a little rude and rough. They shall not call me by my Christian name, or anything but my own formal----"

"Mrs. Compton," he said, seizing her in his arms, "you little duck!

they'll be as frightened of you as if you were fifty. But you mustn't spoil good company, Nell. I shall like you to keep them at a distance, but you mustn't go too far; and, above all, my pet, you mustn't put out the Jew. I calculate on being a lot there; they have a nice house and a good table, and all that, and Prestwich is glad of somebody to help about his horses. You mustn't set up any of your airs with the Jew."

"I don't know what you mean by my airs, Phil."

"Oh, but I do, and they're delicious, Nell: half like a little girl and half like a queen: but it will never do to make the Jew feel small in her own set. Hallo! there's some one tumbling alone over the stones on that precious road of yours. I believe it's that cart from the station after all."

"No," said Elinor, "it is only one of the tradespeople. You certainly are anxious about those carts from the station, Phil."

"Not a bit!" he said, and then, after a moment, he added, "Yes, on the whole, I'd much rather the man came, if he's coming while I'm here, and while you are with me, Nell; for I want you to stick to me, and back me up. They might think I ought to go after that manager fellow and spoil the wedding. Therefore mind you back me up."

"I can't think, dear Phil, what there is for me to do. I know nothing about the business nor what has happened. You never told me anything, and how can I back you up about things I don't know?"

"Oh, yes, you can," he said, "you'll soon see if the fellow comes; just you stand by me, whatever I say. You mayn't know--or even I may seem to make a mistake; but you know me if you don't know the circ.u.mstances, and I hope you can trust me, Nell, that it will be all right."

"But----" said Elinor, confused.

"Don't go on with your buts; there's a darling, don't contradict me.

There is nothing looks so silly to strangers as a woman contradicting every word a fellow says. I only want you to stand by me, don't you know, that's all; and I'll tell you everything about it after, when there's time."

"Tell me about it now," said Elinor; "you may be sure I shall be interested; there's plenty of time now."

"Talk about business to you! when I've only a single day, and not half time enough, you little duck, to tell you what a darling you are, and how I count every hour till I can have you all to myself. Ah, Nell, Nell, if that day were only here----"

And then Phil turned to those subjects and those methods which cast so much confusion into the mind of Mrs. Dennistoun, when practised under her sedate and middle-aged eyes. But Elinor, as has been said, did not take exactly the same view.

Presently they went to luncheon, and Phil secured himself a place at table commanding the road. "I never knew before how jolly it was," he said, "though everything is jolly here. And that peep of the road must give you warning when any invasion is coming."

"It is too far off for that," said Mrs. Dennistoun.

"Oh, no, not for sharp eyes. Nell there told me who several people were--those white horses--the people at--where did you say, Nell?"

"Reddown, mamma--the Philistines, as you call them, that are always dashing about the country--_nouveaux riches_, with the finest horses in the county."

"I like the _nouveaux riches_ for that," said Phil (he did not go wrong in his French, which was a great consolation to Elinor), "they like to have the best of everything. Your poor swell has to take what he can get, but the _parvenu's_ the man in these days; and then there was a dog-cart, which she p.r.o.nounced to be from the station, but which turned out to be the butcher, or the baker, or the candle-stick maker----"

"It is really too far off to make sure of anything, except white horses."

"Ah, there's no mistaking them. I see something sweeping along, but that's a country wagon, I suppose. It gives me a great deal of diversion to see the people on the road--which perhaps you will think a vulgar amus.e.m.e.nt."

"Not at all," said Mrs. Dennistoun, politely, but she thought within herself how empty the brain must be which sought diversion from the distant carriages pa.s.sing two miles off: to be sure across the combe, as the crow flies, it was not a quarter part so far as that.

"Phil thinks some one may possibly come to him on business--to explain things," said Elinor, anxious on her part to make it clear that it was not out of mere vacancy that her lover had watched so closely the carriages on the road.

"Unfortunately, there is something like a smash," he said; "they'll keep it out of the papers if they can, but you may see it in the papers; the manager has run away, and there's a question about some books. I don't suppose you would understand--they may come to me here about it, or they may wait till I go back to town."

"I thought you were going to Ireland, Phil."

"So I shall, probably, just for three days--to fill up the time. One wants to be doing something to keep one's self down. You can't keep quiet and behave yourself when you are going to be married in a week: unless you're a little chit of a girl without any feelings," he said with a laugh. And Elinor laughed too; while Mrs. Dennistoun sat as grave as a judge at the head of the table. But Phil was not daunted by her serious face: so long as the road was quite clear he had all the appearance of a perfectly easy mind.

"We have been talking about literature," he said. "I am a stupid fellow, as perhaps you know, for that sort of thing. But Nell is to indoctrinate me. We mean to take a big box of books, and I'm to be made to read poetry and all sorts of fine things in my honeymoon."

"That is a new idea," said Mrs. Dennistoun. "I thought Elinor meant to give up reading, on the other hand, to make things square."

There was a little breath of a protest from Elinor. "Oh, mamma!" but she left the talk (he could do it so much better) in Compton's hand.

"I expect to figure as a sort of prodigy in my family," he said; "we're not bookish. The Jew goes in for French novels, but I don't intend to let Nell touch them, so you may be easy in your mind."

"I have no doubt Lady Mariamne makes a good selection," said Mrs.

Dennistoun.

"Not she! she reads whatever comes, and the more salt the better. The Jew is quite an emanc.i.p.ated person. Don't you think she'll bore you rather in this little house? She carries bales of rubbish with her wherever she goes, and her maid, and her dog, and I don't know what. If I were you I'd write, or better wire, and tell her there's a capital train from Victoria will bring her here in time for the wedding, and that it's a thousand pities she should disturb herself to come for the night."

"If your sister can put up with my small accommodation, I shall of course be happy to have her, whatever she brings with her," Mrs.

Dennistoun said.

"Oh! it's not a question of putting up--she'd be delighted, I'm sure: but I think you'll find her a great bore. She is exceedingly fussy when she has not all her things about her. However, you must judge for yourself. But if you think better of it, wire a few words, and it'll be all right. I'm to go to the old Rectory, Nell says."

"It is not a particularly old Rectory; it is a very nice, pleasant house. I think you will find yourself quite comfortable--you and the gentleman----"

"d.i.c.k Bolsover, who is going to see me through it: and I daresay I should not sleep much, if I were in the most luxurious bed in the world.

They say a man who is going to be hanged sleeps like a top, but I don't think I shall; what do you say, Nell?"

"Elinor, I should think, could have no opinion on the subject," said Mrs. Dennistoun, pale with anger. "You will all dine here, of course.

Some other friends are coming, and a cousin, Mr. Tatham, of Tatham's Cross."