CHAPTER X.
THE "AMERICAN PRETENDER."
"An invitation has come from Monsieur Dubois to visit them at Dol,"Mademoiselle Therese exclaimed with pride, on opening her letters onemorning. "It is really particularly kind and nice of him. He includes_you_," she added, turning to Barbara.
The girl had to think a few moments before remembering that MonsieurDubois was the "family friend" for whose sake the sisters had sunktheir grievances, and then she was genuinely pleased at the invitation.
"Now, which of us shall go?" mademoiselle proceeded. "It is clear wecannot _all_ do so," and she looked inquiringly at her sister.
"Marie and I are _much_ too busy to accept invitations right and leftlike that," Mademoiselle Loire replied loftily. "For people like youand Mademoiselle Barbara, who have plenty of leisure, it will be a verysuitable excursion, I imagine."
Barbara looked a little anxiously at the younger sister, fearing shemight be stirred up to wrath by the veiled slur on her character; butprobably she was pleased enough to be the one to go, whatever excuseMademoiselle Loire chose to give. Indeed, her mood had beenwonderfully amicable for several days. "Let me see," she said, lookingmeditatively at Barbara. "You have been longing to ride _something_ever since you came here, and since you have not been able to find ahorse, how would it do to hire a bicycle, and come only so far in thetrain with me and ride the rest of the way?"
Barbara's eyes shone. This _was_ a concession on MademoiselleTherese's part, for she had hitherto apparently been most unwilling forthe girl to be out of her sight for any length of time, and had assuredher that there was no possibility of getting riding lessons in theneighbourhood. What had brought her to make this proposal now Barbaracould not imagine.
"That would be a perfectly lovely plan," she cried. "You are an angelto think of it, mademoiselle." At which remark the lady in questionwas much flattered.
The next morning they started in gay spirits, Mademoiselle Theresearrayed in her best, which always produced a feeling of wonderment inBarbara. The lady certainly had not a Frenchwoman's usual taste, andher choice of colours was not always happy, though she herself wasblissfully content about her appearance.
"I am glad you put on that pretty watch and chain," she saidapprovingly to her companion, when they were in the train. "I alwaystry to make an impression when I go to Dol, for Madame Dubois is a_very_ fashionable lady."
She stroked down her mauve skirt complacently, and Barbara thought thatshe could not fail to make an impression of some kind. She wasentertained as they went along, by stories about the cleverness andposition of the lawyer, and the charms of his wife, and the delights ofhis daughter, till Barbara felt quite nervous at the idea of meetingsuch an amount of goodness, fashion, and wit in its own house.
Mademoiselle Therese allowed herself just a little time to givedirections as to the route the girl was to take on leaving her, andBarbara repeated the turnings she had to take again and again tillthere seemed no possibility of making a mistake.
"After the first short distance you reach the highroad," mademoisellecalled after her as she left the carriage, "so I have no fear aboutallowing you to go; it is a well-trodden highroad, too, and not manykilometres."
"I shall be all right, thank you," Barbara said gleefully, thinking hownice it was to escape into the fresh, sunny air after the closethird-class carriage. "There is no sea to catch me _this_ time, youknow."
Mademoiselle shook her finger at her. "Naughty, naughty! to remind meof that terrible time--it almost makes me fear to let you go." Atwhich Barbara mounted hastily, in case she should be called back,although the train had begun to move.
"Repeat your directions," her companion shrieked after her, and thegirl, with a laugh, murmured to herself, "Turn to the right, then theleft, by a large house, then through a narrow lane, and _voila_ thehigh-road!" She had no doubt at all about knowing them perfectly.Unfortunately for her calculations, when she came to the turning-pointthere were _two_ lanes leading off right and left, and on this pointMademoiselle Therese had given her no instructions. There was nobodynear to ask. So, after considering them both, she decided to take theone that looked widest. After all, if it were wrong, she could easilyturn back.
She had gone but a little way, however, when she saw another cyclistapproaching, and, thinking that here was a chance to find out if shewere right before going any farther, she jumped off her machine andstood waiting. When the new-comer was quite close to her she noticedthat he was not a very prepossessing individual, and remembered thatshe had been warned in foreign countries always to look at peoplebefore speaking to them. But it was too late then. So making the bestof it, she asked boldly which was the nearest way to Dol. The manstared at her for a moment, then said she should go straight on, andwould soon arrive at the highroad.
"But I will conduct you so far if you like, madame," he added.
Barbara had seen him looking rather intently at her watch and chain,however, and began to feel a little uneasy.
"Oh, no, thank you," she rejoined hastily. "I can manage very wellmyself," and, springing on to her bicycle, set off at a good speed. Hestood in the road for a few minutes as if meditating; but, when shelooked back at the corner, she saw that he had mounted too, and wascoming down the road after her. There might be no harm in that; but itdid not add to her happiness; and the watch and chain, which had beenAunt Anne's last gift to her, seemed to weigh heavily upon her neck.
There was no thought now of turning; but, though she pedalled herhardest, she could not see any signs of a highroad in front of her, andwas sure she must have taken the wrong lane. Indeed, to her dismay,when she got a little farther down the road, it narrowed still more andran through a wood. She was quite sure now that the man was chasingher, and wondered if she would ever get to Dol at all. It seemed to beher fate to be chased by something on her excursions, and she was notquite sure whether she preferred escaping on her own feet or a bicycle.
At first he did not gain upon her much, and, if she had had her ownmachine, and had been in good training, perhaps she might haveoutdistanced him; but there did not appear to be much chance of that atpresent. She was thankful to see a sharp descent in front of her, andlet herself go at a break-neck speed; but, unfortunately, there was anequally steep hill to climb on the other side, and she would have toget off and walk.
She was just making up her mind to turn round and brave it out, andkeep her watch--if possible--when she saw something on the grass by theroadside, a little ahead of her, that made her heart leap with reliefand pleasure--namely, a puff of smoke, and a figure clad in a browntweed suit. She was sure, even after a mere hurried glance, that theowner of the suit must be English, for it bore the stamp of an Englishtailor, and the breeze bore her unmistakable whiffs of "Harris."
She did not wait a moment, but leaped from her bicycle and sank downpanting on the grass near, alarming the stranger--who had been nearlyasleep--considerably. He jerked himself into a sitting position, andburned himself with his cigarette.
"Who the dickens----" he began; then hastily took off his cap andbegged the girl's pardon, to which she could not reply forbreathlessness. But he seemed to understand what was needed at once,for, after a swift glance from her to the man who was close at handnow, he said in loud, cheerful tones--
"Ah! Here you are at last. I am glad you caught me up. We'll justhave a little rest, then go calmly on our way. You should not ride soquickly on a hot day."
The man was abreast of them now, and looked very hard at both as hepassed, but did not stop, and Barbara heaved a long sigh of relief.
"I'm so very sorry," she said at last. "Please understand I am not inthe habit of leaping down beside people like that, only I've had thiswatch and chain such a _very_ short time, and I was so afraid he'd takethem."
"And how do you know that they will be any safer with me?" he asked,with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
"Because I saw you were an Englishman, of course," she rejo
ined calmly.
The young man laughed.
"Pardon me, you are wrong, for I am an American."
Barbara's cheeks could hardly grow more flushed, but she feltuncomfortably hot.
"I am so sorry," she stammered, getting up hurriedly; "I really thoughtit was an Englishman, and felt--at home, you know."
"Please continue to think so if it makes you any happier; and--I thinkyou had better stay a little longer before going on--the fellow mightbe waiting farther down the road."
Barbara subsided again. She had no desire to have any furtherencounter with the French cyclist.
Meanwhile, the stranger had taken one or two rapid glances at her, andthe surprise on his face grew. "Where are the rest of the party?" heasked presently.
"The rest of the party has gone on by train," and Barbara laughed."Poor party, it would be so horribly alarmed if it could see me now. Ialways seem to be alarming it."
"I don't wonder, if it is always as careless as on the presentoccasion. Whatever possessed he, she, or it, to let you come along byyourself like this? It was most culpably careless."
"Oh, no, indeed. It is what I have been begging for since I came toBrittany--indeed it is. She gave me _most_ careful directions as towhat turnings to take"--and Barbara repeated them merrily--"it was onlythat I was silly enough to take the wrong one. And now I really mustbe getting on, or poor Mademoiselle Therese will be distracted.Please, does this road lead to Dol?"
"Dol?" he repeated quickly. "Yes, certainly. I am just going there,and--and intend to pass the night in the place. I'm on a walking tour,and--if you don't mind walking--I know there's a short cut that wouldbe almost as quick as cycling; the high road is a good distance offyet."
Barbara hesitated. The fear of meeting any more tramps was strong uponher, and her present companion had a frank, honest face, and steadygray eyes.
"I don't want Mademoiselle Therese to be frightened by being any laterthan necessary," she said doubtfully.
"I really think this will be as quick as the other road--if you willtrust me," he returned. And Barbara yielded.
It certainly was a very pretty way, leading across the fields andthrough a beech wood, and they managed to lift the bicycle over thegates without any difficulty. The girl was a little surprised by theunerring manner in which her companion seemed to go forward withouteven once consulting a map; but when she complimented him on the facthe looked a little uncomfortable, and assured her that he had anexcellent head for "direction."
It was very nice meeting some one who was "almost an Englishman," andthey talked gaily all the time, till the square tower of Dol Cathedralcame into view--one of the grandest, her guide assured her, that he hadseen in Brittany. They had just entered the outskirts of the town whenthey passed a little _auberge_, where the innkeeper was standing at thedoor. He stared very hard at them, then lifted his hat, and cried withsurprise, "Back again, monsieur; why, I thought you were half way toSt. Malo by this time."
Then the truth struck Barbara in a flash, and she had only to look ather companion's face to know she was right.
"You were going the other way," she cried--"of course you were--and youturned back on my account. No wonder you knew your way through thewood!"
He gave an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry--I really did not mean todeceive you exactly. I _have_ a good head for 'direction.'"
"And you came all that long way back with me I It _was_ good of you. Ireally----"
But he interrupted her. "Please don't give me thanks when I don'tdeserve them. This town is such a quaint old place I am quite glad tospend the night here. And--I really think you ought not to go hitherand thither without the rest of the party--I don't think your auntwould like it. The house you want is straight ahead." Then he tookoff his cap and turned away, and Barbara never remembered, until he hadgone, that though he had seen her name on the label on her bicycle shedid not know his.
She christened him, therefore, the "American Pretender," firstly,because he looked like an Englishman, and secondly, because hepretended to be going where he was not. After all, she was not verymuch behind her time, and, fortunately, Mademoiselle Therese had beenso interested in the lawyer's conversation that she had not worriedabout her. Barbara did not speak of her encounter with the cyclist,but merely said she had got out of her way a little, and had found akind American who had helped her to find it; which explanation quitesatisfied "the party."
The lawyer's chateau, as it was called, seemed to Barbara to be verylike what French houses must have been long ago, and she imagined grandladies of the Empire time sweeping up the long flight of steps to theterrace, and across the polished floors. The _salon_, with its thickterra-cotta paper, and gilded chairs set in stiff rows along the walls,fascinated her too, and she half expected the lady of the house to comein, clad in heavy brocade of ancient pattern. But everything about thelady of the house was very modern, and Barbara thought MademoiselleTherese's garments had never looked so ugly. The girl enjoyed sittingdown to a meal which was really well served, and she found that thelawyer, though clever, was by no means alarming, and that his wife madea very charming hostess.
Mademoiselle Therese was radiating pride and triumph at having beenable to introduce her charge into such a "distinguished" family, and aseach dish was brought upon the table, she shot a glance across atBarbara as much as to say, "See what we can do!--these are _my_friends!"
Poor Mademoiselle Therese! After all, when she enjoyed such things somuch, it was a pity, Barbara thought, that she could not have them athome.
She was enjoying, too, discussing various matters with the lawyer, fordiscussion was to her like the very breath of life.
"She will discuss with the cat if there is no one else by," her sisterhad once said dryly, "and will argue with Death when he comes to fetchher."
At present the topic was schools, and Barbara and Madame Dubois satquietly by, listening.
"I am not learned," madame whispered to the girl, with a little shrug,"and I know that nothing she can say will shake my husband'sopinion--therefore, I let her speak."
Mademoiselle was very anxious that his little girl should go to school,and was pointing out the advantages of such education to the lawyer.
The latter smiled incredulously. "Would you have me send her to theconvent school, where they use the same-knife and fork all the weekround, and wash them only once a week?" he asked contemptuously.
"No," mademoiselle agreed. "As you know, Marie used to be there, andlearned very little--nothing much, except to sew. No, I would not sendher to the convent school. But there are others. A young Englishfriend of mine, now--Mademoiselle Barbara knows her too--she is at avery select establishment--just about six girls--and so well watchedand cared for."
Barbara looked up quickly. She wondered if she dared interrupt and sayshe did not think it was such an ideal place, when the lawyer spokebefore her.
"_Parbleu!_" he said with a laugh, "I should prefer the convent! Thereat least the religion is honest, but--with those ladies youmention--there is deceit. They pretend to be what they are not."
"Oh, but no!" Mademoiselle Therese exclaimed. "Why, they _are_Protestants."
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
"Believe it if you will, my dear friend, but we lawyers know mostthings, and I know that what I say is true. When my little Helene goesto school she shall not go to such. Meanwhile, I am content to keepher at home."
"So am I," murmured Madame Dubois. "Schools are such vulgar places,are they not?"
But Barbara, to whom the remark was addressed, was too much interestedin this last piece of news to do more than answer shortly. For if whatthe lawyer said were true--and he did not seem a man likely to makemistakes--then Alice Meynell might really have sufficient cause to bemiserable, and Barbara wondered when she would see her again, which wasto be sooner than she expected.