CHAPTER XIII
It is probable that Mrs. Da Souza, excellent wife and mother though shehad proved herself to be, had never admired her husband more than when,followed by the malevolent glances of Miss Montressor and her friend,she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered the gates of the Lodge.The young ladies had announced their intention of sitting in the flyuntil they were allowed speech with their late host; to which he hadreplied that they were welcome to sit there until doomsday so long asthey remained outside his gates. Mr. Da Souza lingered for a momentbehind and laid his finger upon his nose.
"It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially. "He's fairlygot the hump. Between you and me he'd give a bit not to have us, but meand him being old friends--you see, we know a bit about one another."
"Oh, that's it, is it?" Miss Montressor remarked, with a toss of herhead. "Well, you and your wife and your little chit of a daughter arewelcome to him so far as we are concerned, aren't they, Flossie?"
"Well, I should say so," agreed the young lady, who rather affectedAmericanisms.
Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly.
"You are young ladies of spirit," he declared. "Now--"
"Hiram!"
"I am coming, my dear," he called over his shoulder. "One word more, mycharming young friends! No. 7, Racket's Court, City, is my address.Look in sometime when you're that way, and we'll have a bit of lunchtogether, and just at present take my advice. Get back to London andwrite him from there. He is not in a good humour at present."
"We are much obliged, Mr. Da Souza," the young lady answered loftily."As we have engagements in London this afternoon, we may as well gonow--eh, Flossie?"
"Right along," answered the young lady, "I'm with you, but as to writingMr. Trent, you can tell him from me, Mr. Da Souza, that we want to havenothing more to do with him. A fellow that can treat ladies as he hastreated us is no gentleman. You can tell him that. He's an ignorant,common fellow, and for my part I despise him."
"Same here," echoed Miss Montressor, heartily. "We ain't used toassociate with such as him!"
"Hiram!"
Mr. Da Souza raised his hat and bowed; the ladies were tolerablygracious and the fly drove off. Whereupon Mr. Da Souza followed his wifeand daughter along the drive and caught them up upon the doorstep. Withmingled feelings of apprehension and elation he ushered them into themorning-room where Trent was standing looking out of the window with hishands behind him. At their entrance he did not at once turn round. Mr.Da Souza coughed apologetically.
"Here we are, my friend," he remarked. "The ladies are anxious to wishyou good morning."
Trent faced them with a sudden gesture of impatience. He seemed on thepoint of an angry exclamation, when his eyes met Julie Da Souza's. Heheld his breath for a moment and was silent. Her face was scarletwith shame, and her lips were trembling. For her sake Trent restrainedhimself.
"Glad to see you back again, Julie," he said, ignoring her mother'soutstretched hand and beaming smile of welcome. "Going to be a hot day,I think. You must get out in the hay-field. Order what breakfast youplease, Da Souza," he continued on his way to the door; "you must behungry--after such an early start!"
Mrs. Da Souza sat down heavily and rang the bell.
"He was a little cool," she remarked, "but that was to be expected. Didyou observe the notice he took of Julie? Dear child!"
Da Souza rubbed his hands and nodded meaningly. The girl, who, betweenthe two, was miserable enough, sat down with a little sob. Her motherlooked at her in amazement.
"My Julie," she exclaimed, "my dear child! You see, Hiram, she is faint!She is overcome!"
The child, she was very little more, broke out at last in speech,passionately, yet with a miserable fore-knowledge of the ineffectivenessof anything she might say.
"It is horrible," she cried, "it is maddening! Why do we do it? Are wepaupers or adventurers? Oh! let me go away! I am ashamed to stay in thishouse!"
Her father, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and his legs farapart, looked at her in blank and speechless amazement; her mother, withmore consideration but equal lack of sympathy, patted her gently on theback of her hand.
"Silly Julie," she murmured, "what is there that is horrible, littleone?"
The dark eyes blazed with scorn, the delicately curved lips shook.
"Why, the way we thrust ourselves upon this man is horrible!" she cried."Can you not see that we are not welcome, that he wishes us gone?"
Da Souza smiled in a superior manner; the smile of a man who, if only hewould, could explain all things. He patted his daughter on the head witha touch which was meant to be playful.
"My little one," he said, "you are mistaken! Leave these matters tothose who are older and wiser than you. It is but just now that my goodfriend said to me, 'Da Souza,' he say, 'I will not have you take yourlittle daughter away!' Oh, we shall see! We shall see!"
Julie's tears crept through the fingers closely pressed over her eyes.
"I do not believe it," she sobbed. "He has scarcely looked at me all thetime, and I do not want him to. He despises us all--and I don't blamehim. It is horrid!"
Mrs. Da Souza, with a smile which was meant to be arch, had something tosay, but the arrival of breakfast broke up for a while the conversation.Her husband, whom Nature had blessed with a hearty appetite at alltimes, was this morning after his triumph almost disposed to beboisterous. He praised the cooking, chaffed the servants to theirinfinite disgust, and continually urged his wife and daughter to keeppace with him in his onslaught upon the various dishes which were placedbefore him. Before the meal was over Julie had escaped from the tablecrying softly. Mr. Da Souza's face darkened as he looked up at the soundof her movement, only to see her skirt vanishing through the door.
"Shall you have trouble with her, my dear?" he asked his wife anxiously.
That estimable lady shook her head with a placid smile. "Julie is sosensitive," she muttered, "but she is not disobedient. When the timecomes I can make her mind."
"But the time has come!" Da Souza exclaimed. "It is here now, andJulie is sulky. She will have red eyes and she is not gay! She will notattract him. You must speak with her, my dear."
"I will go now--this instant," she answered, rising. "But, Hiram, thereis one thing I would much like to know."
"Ugh! You women! You are always like that! There is so much that youwant to know!"
"Most women, Hiram--not me! Do I ever seek to know your secrets? Butthis time--yes, it would be wiser to tell me a little!"
"Well?"
"This Mr. Trent, he asked us here, but it is plain that our company isnot pleasant to him. He does his best to get rid of us--he succeeds--heplans that we shall not return. You see him alone and all that isaltered. His little scheme has been in vain. We remain! He does not lookat our Julie. He speaks of marriage with contempt. Yet you say he willmarry her--he, a millionaire! What does it mean, Hiram?"
"The man, he is in my power," Da Souza says in a ponderous and stealthywhisper. "I know something."
She rose and imprinted a solemn kiss upon his forehead. There wassomething sacramental about the deliberate caress.
"Hiram," she said, "you are a wonderful man!"