CHAPTER VI
THE UNWILLING GUEST
"But, my dear child, you must appear!" urged the bride, with a piteouslittle twist of the lips. "I can't go unsupported into that dreadfulcrowd."
"Oh, Mother!" Maud said. And that was all; for what was the good ofsaying more? Her mother had made the choice, and there was no turningback. They could only go forward now along the new course,whithersoever it led. "I'll come," she said, after a moment.
Her mother's smile was full of pathos. "We must all make sacrifices forone another, darling," she said. "I have made a very big one for youand Bunny. He--poor little lad--isn't old enough to understand. Butsurely, you, at least can appreciate it."
She looked so wistful as she spoke that in spite of herself Maud wasmoved to a very unusual show of tenderness. She turned and kissed her."I do hope you will be happy," she said. "I expect you will, you know,when you are used to it."
She spoke out of a very definite knowledge of her mother's character.She knew well the yielding adaptability thereof. Giles Sheppard'sstandards would very soon be hers also, and she would speedily cease tofind anything wanting in his friends.
She turned with a sigh. "Let's go and get it over!" she said. "But Ican't stay long. I shall have to get back to Bunny."
She and Bunny had spent all the afternoon and evening settling intotheir new quarters at the Anchor Hotel, and it had been a tiring task.The bride and bridegroom had gone straight from the registry-officewhere the ceremony had been performed to the county town some thirtymiles distant, in the one ramshackle little motor that the hotelpossessed, and had returned barely in time to receive the guests whomSheppard had invited to his wedding-feast.
Neither Maud nor her mother had been told much of the forthcomingfestivity, and the girl's dismay upon learning that she was expected toattend it was considerable. She was feeling tired and depressed. Bunnywas in a difficult mood, and she knew that another bad night lay beforethem. Still it was impossible to refuse. She could only yield with asgood a grace as she could muster.
"Make yourself pretty, won't you, dear?" said Mrs. Sheppard as, herpoint gained, she prepared smilingly to depart. "Wear your white silk!You look charming in that."
Maud had not the faintest wish to look charming, but yet again she couldnot refuse to gratify a wish so amiably expressed. She donned the whitesilk, therefore, though feeling in any but a festive mood, and preparedherself for the ordeal with a grim determination to escape from it assoon as possible.
She was not tall, but her extreme slenderness gave her a decidedly regalpose. She held her head proudly and bore herself with distinction. Hereyes--those wonderful blue-violet eyes--had the aloof expression of onewhose soul is far away.
Giles Sheppard watched her enter the drawing-room behind her mother, anda bitter sneer crossed his bloated face. He was utterly incapable ofappreciating that innate pride of race that expressed itself in everyline of her. He read only contempt for him and his in the girl's stillface, and the deep resentment kindled the night before began to smoulderwithin him with an ever-increasing heat. How dared she show her airsand graces here?-- She, a penniless minx dependent now upon his charityfor the very bread she ate!
He turned with an ugly jest at her expense upon his lips to the man withwhom he had been talking at her entrance; but the jest was checkedunuttered. For the man, square, thickset as a bulldog, abruptly lefthis side and moved forward.
The quick blood mounted in Maud's face as he intercepted her. Shelooked at him for a second as if she would turn and flee. But he heldout a steady hand to her, and she had to place hers within it.
In a moment his peculiar voice accosted her. "You remember me, MissBrian? I'm Jake Bolton--the horse breaker. I had the pleasure of doingyour brother a small service yesterday."
Both hand and voice reassured her. She had an absurd feeling that hewas meting out to her such treatment as he would have consideredsuitable for a nervous horse. She forced herself to smile upon him; itwas the only thing to do.
He smiled in return--his pleasant open smile. "Remember me now?" hesaid.
"Quite well," she answered.
"Good!" he said briefly. "Let me find you a chair! I don't suppose youknow many of the people here."
She did not know any of them, and as Sheppard had seized upon his bride,and was presenting her in rude triumph to each in turn with much noisylaughter and coarse joking it was not difficult to slip into a cornerwith Jake Bolton without attracting further attention.
He stood beside her for a space while covertly she took stock of him.
Yes, he actually had discarded his gaiters and was wearing eveningdress. It did not seem a natural garb for him, but he carried it betterthan she would have expected. He still reminded her very forcibly ofhorses, though she could not have definitely said wherein this strongsuggestion lay. His ruddy face and short, dominant nose might havebelonged to a sailor. But the brilliant chestnut eyes with theirred-brown lashes were somehow not of the sea. They made her think ofthe reek of leather and the thud of galloping hoofs.
Suddenly he turned and caught her critical survey. She dropped her eyesinstantly in hot confusion, while he, as if he had just made up hismind, sat down beside her.
"So you and your brother are going to live here?" he said.
She answered him in a low voice; the words seemed to leap from heralmost without her conscious volition. "We can't help ourselves."
He gave a short nod as of a suspicion confirmed, and sat in silence fora little. The loud laughter of Giles Sheppard's guests filled in thepause.
Maud held herself rigidly still, repressing a nervous shiver thatattacked her repeatedly.
Suddenly the man beside her spoke. "What's the matter with that youngbrother of yours?"
With relief she came out of her tense silence. "It is an injury to thespine. He had a fall in his babyhood. He suffers terribly sometimes."
"Nothing to be done?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No one very good has seen him. He won't let adoctor come near him now."
"Oh rats!" exclaimed Jake Bolton unexpectedly.
She felt her colour rise as he turned his bright eyes upon her.
"You don't say that a kid like that can get the better of you?" he said.
She resented the question; yet she answered it. "Bunny has a strongwill. I never oppose it."
"And why not?" He was looking directly at her with a comical smile asif he were inspecting some quaint object of interest.
Again against her will she made reply. "I try to give him all he wants.He has missed all that is good in life."
He wrinkled his forehead for a moment as if puzzled, then broke into alaugh. "Say, what a queer notion to get!" he said.
She stiffened on the instant, but he did not seem to notice it. Heleaned towards her, and laid one finger--a short, square fore-finger--onher arm.
"Tell me now--what are the good things in life?"
She withdrew her arm from his touch, and regarded him with a hauteurthat did not wholly veil her embarrassment.
"You don't know!" said Jake. "Be honest and say so!"
But Maud only retired further into her shell. "I think we have wanderedrather far from the subject," she said coldly. "My brother isunfortunately the victim of circumstance, and no discussion can alterthat fact."
He accepted the snub without a sign of discomfiture. "Is he here now?"he asked.
She bent her head. "In this house--yes."
"Will you let me see him presently?" he pursued.
Distantly she made reply. "I am afraid that is impossible."
"Why?" he said.
She raised her dark brows.
"Tell me why!" he insisted.
Calmly she met his look. "It is not good for him to see strangers atnight. It upsets his rest."
"You think it would be bad for him to see me?" he questioned.
His voice was suddenly very deliberate. He was looking her full in theface.
A curious little tremor went through her. She felt as if he hadpinioned her there before him.
Her reply astounded herself. "I don't say it would be bad forhim,--only--inadvisable. He is rather excited already."
"Will you ask him presently if he would cane to see me?" said JakeBolton steadily.
She bit her lip, hesitating.
"I shan't upset him," he said. "I won't excite him. I'll quiet himdown."
She did not want to yield--yet she yielded. "I will ask him--if youwish," she said.
He smiled. "Thank you, Miss Brian. You didn't want to give in, didyou? But I undertake that you will not be sorry."
"Hullo, Jacob!" blared Sheppard's voice suddenly across the room. "Whatare you doing over there, you rascal? Thought I shouldn't see you, eh?Ah, you're a deep one, you are! I daresay now you've made up your mindthat that young woman is a princess in disguise. She isn't. She's justmy step-daughter, and a very cheap article, I assure you, Jake,--verycheap indeed!"
The roar of laughter that greeted this sally filled the room, drowningany further remarks. Sheppard stood in the centre, swaying a little,looking round on the assembled company with a facetious grin.
Jake Bolton rose and went to him. He stood with him for a moment, andMaud, shivering in her corner, marvelled that he did not look mean andinsignificant beside the other's great bulk. She wondered what he said.It was only a few words, and they were not apparently uttered with muchurgency. But Sheppard's grin died away, and she fancied that for amoment--only for a moment--he looked a little sheepish. Then he clappeda great hand upon Bolton's shoulder.
"All right. All right. It's for you to make the running. Come along,ladies and gentlemen! Let us feed!"
There was a general move, and a tall, lanky young man with a white faceand black hair that shone like varnish slouched up to Maud.
"I don't see why Bolton should have all the plums," he said. "May Ihave the honour of conducting you to the supper table?"
She was on her feet. She looked at him with a disdain so withering thatthe young man wilted visibly before her.
"No offence meant, I'm sure," he said, shuffling his feet. "But Ithought--as you were being so pally with Jake Bolton--you wouldn'tobject to being pally with me."
Maud said nothing. She was in fact so quivering with rage that speechwould have been difficult.
A very stout elderly lady, with a neck and arms that were hardlydistinguishable from the red silk dress she wore, sailed up to them."Come, come, Miss!" she said, beaming good-temperedly upon Maud's paleface. "We're not standing on ceremony to-night. We're all friendshere. You won't mind going in with my boy Tom, I'm sure. He'sconsidered quite the ladies' man, I can assure you."
"Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Wright? Miss Brian is going in with me," said JakeBolton's smooth voice behind her. "Tom, you git!"
Somehow--before she knew it--the black-haired young man was gone fromher path, and her hand lay trembling within Bolton's arm.
She did not utter a word, she could not. She felt choked.
Jake Bolton said nothing either. He only piloted her through the crowdwith the smile of the winner curving the corners of his mouth.
They readied the dining-room, and people began to seat themselves arounda long centre table. There was no formal arrangement, and someconfusion ensued in consequence.
"Fight it out among yourselves!" yelled Sheppard above the din oflaughter and movement. "Make yourselves at home!"
Bolton glanced round. "There's a table for two in that alcove," hesaid. "Shall we make for that?"
"Anywhere!" she said desperately.
He elbowed a way for her. The table was near a window, the alcovedraped with curtains. He put her into a chair where she was screenedfrom the eyes of those at the centre table. He seated himself oppositeto her.
"Don't look so scared!" he said.
She smiled at him faintly in silence.
"I gather you don't enjoy this sort of bear-fight," he said.
She remained silent. The man disconcerted her. She was burninglyconscious that she had not been too discreet in taking him even so farinto her confidence.
He leaned slowly forward, fixing her with those relentless, lynx-likeeyes. "Miss Brian," he said, his voice very level, faultlesslydistinct. "I'm rough, no doubt, but please believe I'm white!"
She looked at him, startled, unhappy, not knowing what to say.
He nodded, still watching her. "Don't you forget it!" he said. "Thereare plenty of beasts in the world, but I'm not one of 'em. You'll drinkchampagne, of course."
He got up to procure it, and Maud managed in the interval to recoversome of her composure.
When he came back, she mustered a smile and thanked him.
"You look fagged out," he said, as he filled her glass. "What have youbeen doing?"
"Getting straight in our new quarters here," she answered. "It takessome time."
"Where are your rooms?" he asked.
She hesitated momentarily. "It is really only one room," she said."But it is a fine one. I have another little one upstairs; but it is along way off. Of course I shall sleep downstairs with Bunny."
"Do you always sleep with him?" he asked.
She coloured a little. "Yes."
"Is he a good sleeper?" He had moved round and was filling his ownglass.
She watched his steady hand with a touch of envy. She would have givenmuch for as cool a nerve just then.
"Is he a good sleeper?" He repeated the question as he set down thebottle.
She answered it at once. "No; a very poor one."
"And you look after him night and day?" Bolton's eyes suddenlycomprehended her. "I guess that accounts for it," he said, in a tone ofenlightenment.
"For what?" She met his look haughtily, determined to hold her own.
But he smiled and refused the contest. "For much," he said. "Now, whatwill you eat? Lobster? That's right. I want to see you started. Whata filthy racket they are making! I hope it won't upset your appetiteany."
She had never felt less hungry in her life, but out of a queer sensationof gratitude she tried to eat what he put before her. He had certainlydone his best to shield her from that objectionable crowd, but she wasstill by no means certain that she liked the man. He was too muchinclined to take her friendship for granted, too ready to presume upon avery short acquaintance. And she was sure--quite sure now--that he hadrecognized her from the very first moment, down on the parade the nightbefore. The knowledge was very disquieting. He was kind--oh, yes, hewas kind. But she felt that he knew too much.
And so a certain antagonism warred against her gratitude, and preventedany gracious expression thereof. She only longed--oh, howdesperately!--to flee away from this new and horrible world into whichshe had been so ruthlessly dragged and to see no more of its inhabitantsfor ever.
Vain longing! Even then she knew, or shrewdly suspected, that her lotwas to be cast in that same world for the rest of her mortal life.