CHAPTER IX
"Godfrey can't eat me! Besides, he'll have to see me some time. Not thatI want to see anything of the fellow--I always hated him! Still, asthings are, it's far better I should take him by surprise, in Laura'shouse, than go cap in hand, and ask his leave to see my sister."
It was Gilbert Baynton who was speaking, standing with his legs a littleapart, his fair head thrown back, his hands in his pockets, early in theafternoon of the day he and Oliver had arrived from London.
Mother and son were both in the room, but it was really with Mrs.Tropenell that Baynton was having this rather unpleasant argument. Heand Tropenell had had this all out before. Oliver had wanted Gillie towrite to his sister, but he was set on taking her by surprise, and onstealing a march on Godfrey Pavely.
Mrs. Tropenell looked up at the man standing before her. Gillie was twoyears older than her Oliver, and she had been the first woman who hadever seen him, for it was to her that his mother's doctor had handed thelusty, already screaming baby. His mother had passionately lovedhim--loved him and spoilt him, and so had his rather lackadaisicalfather. Physically he was a queer mixture of the two. Gillie Baynton hadhis father's fair hair, grace of limb and movement, and plainness offeature, coupled with his mother's abounding vitality, and her charm ofmanner--that charm, that coming-on-ness, which his beautiful sister,born so many years later, had always lacked.
Gillie had early begun to get into various ugly scrapes, but as a youthhe had always somehow managed to shuffle out of them, for he waspopular, and "had a way with him," as country people say. Also he hadnever been lacking in courage of a sort, and courage carries even arascal a long way.
Still, Gillie Baynton had been pretty well done for, as far as his owncountry was concerned, when he had been sent out, as a kind of forlornhope, to Mexico and Oliver Tropenell....
Gillie began speaking again: "I think I know my worthy brother-in-lawquite as well as you do, Mrs. Tropenell. It's much better to take a manlike that by surprise, and not to give him time to think! After all,he's _got_ to let bygones be bygones."
And now Oliver interposed, for the first time. "Yes, mother, as thingsare, I think Gillie had perhaps better try and see Laura now, at once,before Godfrey Pavely knows he's in England."
"I'll go there right now."
Occasionally, not very often, Gilbert Baynton made use of some littlephrase showing that he lived on the other side of the Atlantic. He hadchanged somehow, Mrs. Tropenell could hardly have told you how, for hehad always had a very assured manner. But now Gillie looked what hewas--a very prosperous man of business, though scarcely an English manof business. The long sojourn in Mexico had not altered her Oliver atall--not, that is, as far as she could see, but it had altered GillieBaynton surprisingly. It had roughened him, and increased his naturalself-assurance.
"Perhaps Laura and little Alice will come back with you to tea? Godfrey,too, if he seems in the humour for it," she said.
And he nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Tropenell. That would be very pleasant."
He smiled, a good-humoured, triumphant smile, and was gone.
The other two looked at each other rather doubtfully. And then Oliver,as if answering her thought, exclaimed, "I don't think he'll stay on atThe Chase till Pavely comes out from Pewsbury! Apart from everythingelse, Gillie's a restless creature. We may see him again within a veryshort time from now."
"But supposing he and Godfrey do meet?" asked Mrs. Tropenell anxiously.
"Well, if they do meet, I think it's quite on the cards there'll be afurious row. But that, after all, would clear the air. As Gillie saidjust now, Godfrey Pavely will _have_ to put the past behind him.Perhaps, once they've had it out, they'll be better friends. There's agood deal to be said for a row sometimes, mother."
"Yes," she said uncomfortably. "I agree, there is."
* * * * *
Laura was sitting in what was still known as "the boudoir," by thehousehold of Lawford Chase. It was a beautiful and stately room,furnished some ninety years ago, at the time of the marriage of Mrs.Tropenell's grandmother. The late Mr. Pavely's tenants had not cared touse it, for it was away from the other living-rooms of the house, and sonothing in the boudoir had been disturbed or renewed when The Chase hadbeen prepared for the occupation of the strangers who had lived therefor fourteen years.
The room suited Laura, and Laura suited the room. To-day she had had afire lit, for it was beginning to be chilly. Alice had gone off intoPewsbury to spend the afternoon with two little friends, and now themistress of this lovely, old-world room was trying to read a book; butsoon she let the book rest open on her lap, and she stared mournfully,hopelessly, into the fire.
Things were not going well with Laura Pavely. They had begun going illabout a month ago, just after that--that unfortunate outburst onOliver's part. Yet she had felt so sure, after the talk that she and hehad had together, that they would slip back into their old, easyrelationship! And for a while, perhaps for as long as a week, it hadseemed as if they were going to do so.
But then there had come a change. Godfrey had fallen into the way ofcoming home early. In old days, both before the coming to England ofOliver Tropenell, and during the months that followed, Godfrey hadgenerally stayed at the Bank rather late, and then, as often as not, hehad gone in and had a chat with Katty on his way home. Now he alwayscame back before five, and after his return home he and Oliver wouldengage in interminable singles on the big tennis court which had beenGodfrey Pavely's one contribution to the otherwise beautiful gardens ofThe Chase.
Sometimes, and especially had this been true these last few days, Lauratold herself that perhaps after all, the world, the cynical shrewdworld of which she knew so little, was right, and that a close andconfidential friendship between a man and a woman is an impossibleideal.
To-day, staring into the fire with dry, unseeing eyes, she feltmiserably unhappy--too troubled and uneasy to occupy herself in any ofher usual ways. More than had ever been the case before, life seemed tostretch before her in a terrible, dreary, unending monotony.
Something else had come to pass during the last week, the week duringwhich Oliver Tropenell had been away in London, which she scarcely likedto think of, or to make more real by dwelling on. Godfrey had altered inhis manner to her, he had become kinder, and yes, more loverlike than hehad been for years. He hung about her, when he was at home, indoors andout of doors. In an awkward, clumsy way he actually tried to makehimself pleasant! He had even suggested that she should ask one or twopeople to stay at The Chase. But she had protested that she muchpreferred being alone, and with a shrug of the shoulders he had givenin. After all, he didn't really care for strangers more than she did.
Several times during the last dreary week, he had astonished her bytalking to her of Oliver in a rather fretful, complaining way, as if hethought it odd that the other man was staying on in England with hismother, instead of going back to Mexico. He had said that he thought itstrange that such a big business as he understood Oliver Tropenell tohave built up, could run by itself. She had answered coldly, "Youforget that my brother is there." And to that he had made no reply.
Gillie? A pang of pain thrilled through Laura's lonely heart. Oliver hadsaid nothing more concerning Gillie's visit to Europe. Everything whichhad happened, up to, and including, the evening when she and Oliver hadhad that curious, intimate conversation when he had promised so solemnlyto be her friend, seemed now like a bright, happy dream compared withthe drab reality of to-day.
And now, in a few minutes, Godfrey would be coming in, and she wouldhave to rouse herself to listen and to answer, while they had teatogether in the cedar drawing-room, for Godfrey did not care for theboudoir.
Suddenly she heard uttered in the corridor, outside the door, the eagerwords, "Is Mrs. Pavely there? You're sure? All right--I'll go straightin!" And before she could gather her mind together, the door opened, andher brother--the brother she had not seen for years, but of whom she hadjust been thinking--
walked forward into the room, exclaiming heartily,resonantly: "Well, Laura? Well, little girl? Here I am again!"
She started up, and with a cry of welcoming, wondering delight, threwherself into his arms, half laughing, half crying, "Oh,Gillie--Gillie--Gillie! How glad I am to see you! Somehow I thought wewere never going to meet again! Have you only just come? Has OliverTropenell seen you? Why didn't you wire?"
Gillie was as touched and flattered as it was in him to be, for heremembered his sister as having been always quiet and restrained. Andwhen they had parted, just before he had gone out to Mexico, she hadseemed almost inanimate with--had it been vicarious?--shame and pain.
"I thought I'd take you by surprise." He looked round him with apleased, measuring look. "Nothing altered!" he exclaimed, "and you'vegot a fire? That's good! I feel it awfully cold here, I mean in England.They haven't started fires yet, over at Freshley."
He repeated, "Nothing's altered--you least of all, Laura. Why, you don'tlook a day older!"
She sighed. "I feel," she said, "a lifetime older."
"I don't!" he cried briskly, "I feel younger. And Godfrey?" His voicealtered, becoming just a little graver. "Time stood still with Godfreytoo, eh?"
"I don't think Godfrey's altered much----" She was hesitating. And then,very carefully, she added the words, "Godfrey's quite good to me, youknow, Gillie."
"Oh, well--of course he always liked you the best!" And then he laughed,but to them both his laughter sounded just a little hollow. "I gatherthat he and Tropenell don't quite hit it off?"
She turned on him quickly, and he was puzzled at the look of extremeastonishment which came over her face. "What makes you think that?" sheexclaimed. "They're the greatest friends! Godfrey likes Oliver Tropenellbetter than I thought he'd ever like anybody."
And then, before Gillie Baynton could answer this, to him, surprisingstatement, the door opened, and the man of whom they were speaking stoodgazing into the room as if he could not believe in the reality of thesight before him.
The brother and sister moved apart, and Gilbert Baynton held out hishand.
"Well, Godfrey," he exclaimed, "here I am again! I expect Tropenell toldyou that I was thinking of coming to Europe? But I can't be more than amonth in the old country--if as long--unless Tropenell goes back leavingme behind for a bit. He did make some such suggestion, but I think we'remore likely to go back together."
As he spoke on, he let his hand slowly drop to his side, for the man hewas addressing had made no answering movement of welcome, or even ofgreeting.
Such a flood of wrath had mounted up into Godfrey Pavely's brain when hesaw Gilbert Baynton standing there, with his arm round Laura's shoulder,that he was fearful the words he meant to utter would never getthemselves said. He had never felt so angry before, and the sensationhad a curious physical effect on him. He felt, as country folk sovividly put it, "all of a tremble."
A curious, ominous, sinister silence fell on the room. Laura,unconsciously, drew a little nearer to her brother; and Godfrey, who wasstaring straight at her, saw the movement, and it intensified thepassion of anger which was working in his brain as wine does in thebody.
"I must ask you to leave my house at once," he said in a low voice. "Ihave had no reason to change my mind as to what I said when you werelast in this house, Gilbert Baynton."
_"Godfrey!"_ There was a passionate protest and revolt in the way Laurauttered her husband's name.
But her brother put up his hand. "Hush, Laura," he said. "It's muchbetter I should tackle this business alone. In fact, if you don't mind,you'd better leave the room."
She shook her head. "No, I mean to stay."
He shrugged his shoulders, and looked straight at Godfrey Pavely. "Lookhere!" he exclaimed, "isn't all this rather--well, highfaluting rot?It's quite true that when I left here I didn't mean ever to darken yourdoors again. But everything's altered now! I've paid you back every centof that money--it wasn't even your money, it was my own sister's money.She didn't mind my having it--I heard her tell you so myself."
"You forged my signature to obtain it," said Godfrey. He spoke in a verylow voice, almost in a whisper. He was the sort of man who alwayssuspects servants of listening at the door.
"Yes, I own I was a damned fool to do that--though as a matter of factyou goaded me to it! However, it's a long time ago, and I suggest thatwe'd better let bygones be bygones. If I don't marry, and I'm not amarrying man, your child will be my heiress. Laura's my only sister, theonly thing in the world I really care for----"
Laura put her hand through his arm when she heard him say that.
And then Godfrey spoke again, his voice a little raised: "That makes nodifference," he said--"I mean your having paid the money back makes nodifference. I won't have you in my house, and if Laura considers mywishes she won't see you again while you're in England."
Laura said at once: "I shall not consider your wishes, Godfrey. Ofcourse I shall see my brother as often as I can."
But Godfrey went on, still directly addressing Gilbert Baynton, "I can'tprevent Laura seeing you, if she insists upon it. She's a grown-upwoman, and I can't turn the key on her. But she shan't see you in _my_house. And, as far as I'm concerned, this is the last time I'll ever seteyes on your face."
"Don't you be so sure of that!" Gillie muttered the words between histeeth. His fair face had turned a deep red-brick colour, his blue eyeswere blazing.
Again there fell on the three of them that strange, ominous, sinistersilence.
Then Gilbert Baynton turned to his sister. He actually laughed out loud.But even Pavely noticed, with bitter satisfaction, that the laughtersounded very forced.
"Ha! ha! ha! Godfrey's not a bit changed. He's just the same oldnarrow-minded, sanctimonious prig he always was!"
He took Laura in his arms, and kissed her two or three times verywarmly. "Never mind, little girl," he said. "I shan't make troublebetween you and Godfrey for long! I shan't be in England for more than afew days. I'm off to Paris next week."
He disengaged himself gently from Laura's clinging arms, went to thedoor, opened it, then shut it very quietly behind him.
Laura turned away, and stared into the fire.
Godfrey began, awkwardly, conciliatingly, "Now, my dear Laura----"
She put up her hand. "Don't speak to me," she said, in what he felt tobe a dreadful voice of aversion and of pain. "I shall never, neverforgive you for this!"
He shrugged his shoulders, and went out of the room, into the longcorridor. And then he walked quickly through it and so to the hall ofthe fine old house, of which, try as he might, he never felt himself, inany intimate sense, the master.
The hall was empty. Quietly he opened the front door. Yes, Gillie hadkept his word this time! He really had gone. Pavely could see the alert,still young-looking figure of the man whom in his mind he always called"that scoundrel" hurrying down the carriage road which led to the greatgates of The Chase.