CHAPTER XVI
MR. BETTISON PROPOSES
Mr. Bettison could make nothing of Diana of late. Her demeanour, atfirst so charming and so cheerful, had become listless, and evenchilling. She seemed hardly to listen to some of his best tales, andtwice she actually forgot to laugh at what was surely a most wittypleasantry. It struck him that she regarded him with a resentful eye, asif she objected to his presence at Horton House, and had no desire to becourted. But Mr. Bettison was far too egotistic to believe such a thing,and he brushed the incredible suspicion away, deciding that her coldnesswas due to a very proper shyness. He continued his visits until theybecame so frequent that scarce a day passed without his strutting stepbeing heard approaching the house and his voice inquiring for the MissBeauleighs. Mr. Beauleigh, who secretly hoped for Mr. Bettison as ason-in-law, would not permit the ladies to deny themselves, and hefurther counselled Miss Betty to absent herself after the first fewmoments, leaving the young couple together. Thus it was that it socontinually fell to Diana's lot to receive the Squire and to listen tohis never-ending monologues. She persistently snubbed him, hoping toward off the impending proposal, but either her snubs were not severeenough, or Mr. Bettison's skin was too thick to feel them; for not afortnight after my lord's departure, he begged her hand in marriage. Itwas refused him with great firmness, but, taking the refusal forcoquettishness, he pressed his suit still more amorously, and with sucha self-assured air that Mistress Di became indignant.
"Sir," she cried, "it seems you have indeed misread my attitude towardsyou!"
Mr. Bettison was struck dumb with amazement. It had never entered hisbrain that Diana could seriously refuse him. He could hardly believe hisears at this quite unmistakable tone of voice, and sat gaping.
"I must beg," continued Diana, "I must beg that you will discontinueyour all-too-frequent visits here. Please do not deem me unkind, butyour persecution of me--I can call it nothing else--iswearying--and--you will forgive the word--tiresome. I confess I amsurprised that you had not perceived your attentions to be distastefulto me."
"Distasteful!" cried Mr. Bettison, recovering after two or threeunsuccessful attempts from his speechlessness. "Do you mean what yousay, Miss Diana? That you will not wed me?"
She nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Bettison, I do."
"And that my attentions are displeasing to you! Well, Miss Beauleigh!Well, indeed!"
Diana softened a little.
"I am indeed sorry that you should have misconstrued--"
"No misconstruction, madam!" snapped the Squire, who was fast losingcontrol over his temper. "Do you dare aver that you did not encourage meto visit you?"
"I do, most emphatically!"
"Oh, I see what 'tis! You cannot hoodwink me. 'Twas never thus with youbefore that fellow came!"
"Mr. Bettison, I am entirely at a loss, but I desire you to leave thisroom before you say aught you may afterwards regret."
He disregarded her.
"You are infatuated by that over-dressed popinjay--that insufferableCarr, who, from all I hear, is but a shady fellow, and who--"
With a sweeping movement Diana had risen and walked to the bell-rope.She now pulled it with such vigour that a great peal sounded throughoutthe house.
She stood perfectly still, a statue of Disdain, tall, beautiful andfurious, with compressed lips and head held high. Mr. Bettison broke offand mopped his brow, glaring at her.
Startled Thomas appeared at the door.
"Did you ring, madam?"
"Show Mr. Bettison out," was the proud answer.
The Squire got up awkwardly.
"I am sure I apologise if I said aught that was untrue," he mumbled. "Ihope you will not take my words amiss--"
"I shall try to forget your insults, sir," she replied. "The door,Thomas!"
Mr. Bettison went out, and his step had lost some of its self-confidentswagger.
For a full minute after the great front door had shut behind him, Dianastood where she was, and then the colour suddenly flamed in her cheeks,and she turned and ran out of the room, up the stairs, to her ownchamber, where she indulged in a luxurious fit of crying. From thisenjoyable occupation she was interrupted by a rap on the door, and MissBetty's voice desiring to know if she was within.
She instantly started up and with hasty fingers straightened her tumbledcurls.
"Pray enter!" she called, trying to sound jaunty. To complete theillusion, she started to hum. Her aunt entered.
"I came to see if you had my broidery. I cannot find it, and I am sure'twas you brought it in from the garden this morning."
"Yes--oh, yes--I am so sorry! 'Tis in that corner on the chair, Ithink," replied Diana, keeping her face averted.
Miss Betty cast a shrewd glance at her, and sat down on the sofa withthe air of one who means to stay.
"What is it, my love?" she demanded.
Diana pretended to search for something in a cupboard.
"Nothing, aunt! What should there be?"
"I do not know. 'Tis what I want to find out," answered Miss Bettyplacidly.
"There is nought amiss, I assure you!" To prove the truth of thisstatement, Diana essayed a laugh. It was a poor attempt, and waveredpitifully into a sob.
"My pet, don't tell me! You are crying!"
"I--I'm n-not!" avowed Diana, hunting wildly for herpocket-handkerchief. "'Tis a cold in the head I have had these threedays."
"Indeed, my love? Longer than that, I fear."
"Yes--perhaps so--I--What do you mean?"
"I doubt but what you caught it the day that Mr. Carr left us."
Diana started.
"P-pray, do not be ridiculous, auntie!"
"No, my dear. Come and sit beside me and tell me all about it," coaxedMiss Betty.
Diana hesitated, gave a damp sniff, and obeyed.
Miss Betty drew her head down on to her shoulder soothingly.
"There, there! Don't cry, my sweet! What has happened?"
"'Tis that odious Mr. Bettison!" sobbed Diana "He--he had the audacityto ask me to m-marry him!"
"You don't say so, my love! I thought I heard him arrive. So you senthim about his business?"
"N-not before he had time to insult m-me!"
"Insult you? Di!"
"He--he dared to insinuate--oh no! he accused me outright--of beinginfatuated by Mr. Carr! Infatuated!"
Over her head Miss Betty opened her eyes at her own reflection in theglass.
"The brute! But, of course, 'tis true?"
No answer.
"Is it not?"
The sobs came faster.
"Of--of course 'tis true, but h-how dared he say so?"
"Di, my love, you really are in love with that boy?"
"I--I--I asked him to marry me--and he wouldn't!"
"Good gracious heavens!" Miss Betty was genuinely horrified. "My dearDiana!"
"N-not outright--b-but he understood--and--he loves me! And I'd do itagain to-morrow, if I could--immodest or no! So there!"
"Yes, yes," soothed Miss Betty hastily. "Tell me all about it." Dianalifted her head.
"That's all. And he loves me--he does--he does!"
"Did he say so?"
"N-no--but I could tell. And I love him"--sob--"and I'd sooner die thanlive without him, and he won't ask me b-because he has not got aspotless p-past, and he'd be a cur, and horrid things, and my husbandmust not be an--an--outcast, and-and--and I don't care!"
Her bewildered aunt unravelled this with difficulty.
"He'd be a cur if he asked you to marry him?" she asked, with knittedbrows.
"Yes. Because he's a highwayman."
"A highwayman! Then 'twas true what he said? Well, well! I should neverhave thought it! That nice boy!"
Diana disengaged herself; in her eyes was a threatening gleam.
"Don't dare say a word against him!"
"No, no--of course not! I was only surprised. But I am thankfully gladhe did not ask you, for all that!"
"Glad? H
ow can you be so cruel?"
"My dear, you could not possibly marry--a--a--"
"Common felon!" sobbed Diana. "I can--I can!"
"And heaven alone knows what else he may have done! Why, child, he saidhimself that he had a--a spotty past!"
At this her niece gave a tearful giggle.
"La! What ails you now, Di?"
"H-he never said--spotty."
Miss Betty smiled reluctantly.
"A doubtful past, then."
"I don't believe it!"
Her aunt pursed up her lips.
"I won't believe it. He couldn't be wicked. You forget he saved me!"
Miss Betty relented.
"No, I do not, my love; and, to be sure, I think he is a dear boy, but Ialso think 'twas very right of him to go away."
She was enveloped in a rapturous embrace.
"Auntie, you know you love him almost as much as I do?"
"No, that I do not!" was the grim retort. "_I_ am not like to want tomarry him!"
There was another watery giggle at this, and Diana went over to thedressing-table to tidy her hair.
"I doubt I shall never see him again," she said wretchedly. "Oh, auntie,if you could but have seen his dear, unhappy eyes!"
"Stuff and nonsense! Not see him again, forsooth! He will call upon usin town. 'Tis but common politeness."
"You forget he is a highwayman, and not like to come nigh us again."
"Well, my dear, if he cares for you as you say he does, he will see toit that he takes up some decent occupation. Mayhap, he will go into thearmy, or what not. Then wait and see if he does not come to you."
"Do you think so?" doubtfully.
"Of course I do, sweetheart! And if he does not try to mend his ways,and you see him no more--why then, snap your fingers at him, my love,for he will not be worth one tear!"
Diana sighed and poured out some water to bathe her face with.
"Is not that sensible?" coaxed her aunt.
She raised her head and looked unutterable scorn.
"I think 'tis remarkable silly," she answered. Then her dignity fellfrom her. "Oh, are all men such big stupids?" she cried.
"Most of 'em," nodded her aunt.
"But can't he tell that I shall be--oh, so miserable, and that I shouldnot ruin my life if I married him?"
"My dear, once a man gets an idea into his head, 'tis the very devil toget it out of him! Not but what I think Master Jack is right, mind you.And your dear papa and I had looked higher for you. After all--what isMr. Carr?"
"He is the only man I will ever marry! So you may cease looking higherfor me! I suppose you want me to marry that great gaby, Sir DenisFabian, you are for ever inviting to the house? Or, perhaps, thisgallant Mr. Bettison? Or Mr. Everard? How _can_ you be so unkind?"
"I am not. But I could not bear to see you throw yourself away on ahighwayman, my dear."
Diana ran to her, putting her arms round her neck.
"Dearest auntie, forgive my rudeness! I know you did not mean to beunkind! But you do not understand--I _love_ him."
"I always said you'd take it badly," nodded Miss Betty gloomily.
"Take what badly?"
"Love. And no man is worth one tear-drop, sweet."
The confident, tender little laugh that answered this statement made herlook at her suddenly changed niece in surprise.
"You don't know," said Diana. Her eyes were soft and luminous. "You justdo not know."
Before Miss Betty could think of a suitable retort, a knock fell on thedoor. It was opened, and Thomas was found to be without.
"My Lady O'Hara is below, madam."
For an instant the two ladies stared at one another. Then:
"La and drat!" said Miss Betty. "With the drawing-room in a muddle aftercleaning!"
Diana nodded to the man.
"We will come, Thomas." Then as soon as he had withdrawn, she staredagain at her aunt. "Lady O'Hara! But why?"
"I suppose she felt she must call after Sir Miles had been here sooften. But why, for goodness' sake, must she choose the one day that thedrawing-room is all untidy? Drat again, I say!"
Diana was powdering her little nose, and anxiously looking to see if thetear-stains had quite vanished.
"'Tis not untidy, Aunt Betty. Oh, I am quite eager to see her--I thinkshe must be charming, from all Sir Miles said. Do hurry, aunt!"
Miss Betty stuck a pin into her hair and smoothed out her dress.
"And me in this old taffeta!" she grumbled.
Diana swirled round, her own peach-coloured silk rustling fashionably.
"Never mind, dear--you look very sweet. But _do_ be quick!" Miss Bettysuffered herself to be led to the door.
"'Tis all very fine for you, my love, with a new gown fresh on to-day!Will you just take a look at my petticoat, though?"
"Nonsense, you are beautiful! Come!"
Together they descended the stairs, and went into the drawing-room.
A dainty, very diminutive little lady arose from a chair at their entry,and came forward with outstretched hands, and such a fascinating smilethat Miss Betty's ill-humour vanished, and she responded to hervisitor's deep curtsy with one of her best jerky dips.
"I am vastly delighted to welcome you, madam," she said primly. "'Tisgood in you to come this long way to see us."
She drew a chair forward for my lady, and presented her niece. LadyO'Hara gave the girl a swift, scrutinising glance, and curtsied again.
"'Tis a great pleasure to me to meet you at last, Miss Beauleigh," shesmiled. "My husband has told me so much of you, I declare I was all agogto meet you!"
Diana warmed instantly to the little lady's charm.
"Indeed, madam, we, too, have heard much of you from Sir Miles. _We_have wanted to meet _you_!"
Lady O'Hara seated herself and nodded briskly.
"I expect he told you some dreadful tales of me," she said happily. "Imust ask your pardon for not having visited you before, but, as Idaresay you know, I have been away, and, gracious me, when I returnedeverything seemed topsy-turvy!" She laughed across at Miss Betty. "Ipromise you I have had my hands full putting things to rights, MissBeauleigh!"
Miss Betty drew her chair closer, and in a minute they were deep intruly feminine conversation: the prodigious extravagance of theservants; the helplessness of men-folk when left to themselves, and thenLondon, its shops, its parks, the newest play.
Lady O'Hara was begged to take a dish of Miss Betty's precious Bohea--avery high honour indeed--and when Mr. Beauleigh came into the room hefound his sister and daughter seated on either side of a pretty,animated little lady whom he had never before seen, talking hard, andpartaking of tay and angel cakes. Whereupon he retired hastily and shuthimself up in his library.