CHAPTER XXIII
Holding the Fort
Miss Meredith took the news of her brother's engagement in a dumbmanner. An explosion of wrath would have helped every one. Robin mighthave appeared aggrieved, and had something of which to complain, andIsobel's immobility beside some one in a rage was always effective.Miss Meredith would not rage however. She had met a match for her ownresourceful methods, and at bottom she feared the reserve of power whichprompted Isobel. Under cover of a fine frown she accepted the situationas Isobel had said she would. What hopes were overthrown by theengagement, what schemes upturned, no one but Miss Meredith herselfwould ever have an inkling. She began to regret her manner of ejectingMabel, especially since the London reports told of a Mabel many cutsabove Ridgetown. Miss Dudgeon had opened their eyes. She had come backin armour, the old Ridgetown armour, and talked in the stiffest mannerof Mabel and Lady Emily, as though all were of a piece. Miss Meredithventured to say to her later on that she understood that Mabel was quitea success in "Society."
"She always was, wasn't she?" asked Adelaide Maud very simply, as thoughshe imagined society had really existed in Ridgetown.
Miss Meredith was a trifle overcast.
"Oh yes, yes, of course," she said. "But Mabel, of course, Mabel----"
"Mabel would shine anywhere you mean. That is true. She possesses thegift of being always divinely natural."
Adelaide Maud could play up better than any one. Miss Dudgeon ran on tocongratulate Miss Meredith on her brother's engagement.
"Ah yes, such a charming girl," said Miss Meredith. "He is veryfortunate. We both are, since it relates us to so delightful a family.We have always been such friends."
There was a stiff pause. Adelaide Maud could never bring herself tofill in the pauses between social untruthfulnesses.
"She is very courageous, we think," ran on Miss Meredith. "Robin willnot be able to give her very much of an establishment, you know. Butthat does not grieve her. She has a very even and contenteddisposition. I often tell Robin--quite a girl in a hundred! Not manywould have consented so sweetly to an immediate marriage under thecircumstances."
Ah, then, this might explain to the public the defection of Mabel.Mabel had expected an "establishment." Miss Dudgeon began to seedaylight.
"Oh, on the contrary," she said, rising, "we have always looked on Mr.Meredith as being so well off in respect of being able to get married.Didn't you tell me once--but then I have such a stupid memory!"
Miss Meredith recognized where a great slip had taken place. These hadbeen her words before, "Not many young men are in so easy a position formarrying!" And to Miss Dudgeon of all people she had just said thereverse.
There is a pit formed by a bad memory wherein social untruths sometimestumble in company. There they are inclined to raise a laugh atthemselves, and occasionally make more honest people out of theirperpetrators.
Miss Meredith knew there was no use in any longer explaining Robin'sposition, or want of it, to so clear-headed a person as Miss Dudgeon.The best way was to retire as speedily as possible from so difficult asubject.
Mrs. Leighton found the whole affair very trying. She never indulged inany social doctoring where her own opinions were concerned, and it wasreally painful for her to meet all the innuendoes cast at her by curiouspeople.
"Oh, Mr. Leighton and I always think young people manage these thingsbest themselves. They are so sensitive, you know, and quite apt to makemistakes if dictated to. A critical audience must be very trying. Yes,everybody thought Robin was engaged to Mabel--but he never was."
"Well then," said Aunt Katharine, with her lips pursed up tosticking-point, "if they weren't engaged, they ought to have been.That's all I've got to say."
It was not all she had got to say, as it turned out. She talked forquite a long time about the duties of children to their parents.
Mrs. Leighton at last became really exasperated.
"You know, Katharine," she said, "if you are so down on these youngpeople, I shall one day--I really shall, I shall tell them how younearly ran away with James Shrimpton."
"My dear," said Aunt Katharine. She was quite shocked. "I was a youngunformed thing and father so overbearing----" She was so hurt she couldgo no further.
"Exactly," said Mrs. Leighton. "And my girls are young unformed things,and their father is not overbearing."
Aunt Katharine grunted.
"Ah well, you keep their confidence. That's true. I don't know a moreunited family. But this marriage of Isobel's does not say much for yourmanagement."
That was it--"management." Mrs. Leighton groaned slightly to herself.She never would be a manager, she felt sure. She offered a passivefront to fate, and her influence stopped there. As for manoeuvring fateby holding the reins a trifle and pressing backward or forward, she hadnot the inclination at any time to interfere in such a way at all. Sheleaned on what Emerson had said about things "gravitating." Shebelieved that things gravitated in the right direction, so long as oneendeavoured to remain pure and noble, in the wrong one so long as onewas overbearing and selfish. She had absolutely no fear as to howthings would gravitate for Mabel after that night when she talked aboutRobin and went off to succour Jean.
She placidly returned to her crochet, and to the complainings of AuntKatharine.
Cuthbert came down that evening, and Isobel, Elma, Betty and he went offto be grown-ups at a children's party at the Turbervilles. The partyprogressed into rather a "larky" dance, where there were as manygrown-ups as children. All the first friends of the Leightons werethere, including, of course, the Merediths. Cuthbert took in Isobel inrather a frigid manner. He endeavoured not to consider Meredith a cad,but his feelings in that direction were overweighted for the evening.He danced with the children, and "was no use for anybody else," as MayTurberville put it. But then Cuthbert was so "ghastly clever and allthat sort of thing," that he could not be put on the level of otherpeople at all.
Cuthbert had got his summer lectureship. He told Elma, and then Mr. andMrs. Leighton, and then Betty, and Isobel could not imagine what sparkof mischief had lit their spirits to the point of revelry as they ambledalong in their slow four-wheeler. Elma had only one despair in hermind. Neither Miss Grace nor Miss Annie were well. Miss Annieparticularly seemed out of gear, so much so and so definitely, that forthe first time for nearly thirty years Miss Grace spoke of having in Dr.Merryweather.
Cuthbert asked lots of questions.
"I don't know," Elma generally answered. "She just lies and sickens.As though she didn't care."
She raised her hand to her head at the time.
"Dr. Smith says it's the spring weather which everybody feels speciallytrying this year."
Cuthbert grunted.
George Maclean came to Elma for the first dance. He seemed in very goodspirits. Elma found herself wondering if it were about Mabel. Well,one would see. Mabel had always been tied in a kind of a way, and nowshe was free! Mr. Maclean anyhow was the best, above all the best.Even Mr. Symington! When she thought of him, her mind always ran off towondering what now might happen to Mr. Symington.
She had a long, rollicking waltz with Mr. Maclean. They rollicked,because children were on the floor and steering seemed out of fashion.Yet he carried her round in a gentle way, because Elma, with her desireto be the best of dancers, invariably got knocked out with a robustpartner. He carried her round in the most gentle way until the musicstopped with the bang, bang of an energetic amateur. Elma found thefloor suddenly hit her on the cheek in what seemed to her a mostimpossible manner.
"Now what could make it do that?" she asked Mr. Maclean. He was bendingover her with rather a white face.
Cuthbert came up.
"Why didn't you tell Maclean that you were giddy?" he said. "He wouldhave held you up."
"But I wasn't giddy," said Elma. "I'm not giddy now."
She was standing, but the floor aga
in seemed at a slant.
"Steady," said Cuthbert. "You're as giddy as the giddiest. Don'tpretend. Take her off to get cool, Maclean."
"Cool!" Elma's fingers seemed icy. But there was a comforting,light-headed glow in her cheeks which reassured her.
Every one said how well she was looking, and that kept her fromwondering whether she was really going to be ill. George Maclean triedto get her to drink tea, but for the first time in her life she foundherself possessed of a passion for lemonade.
"You will really think that I am one of the children," she said,"because I am simply devoured with a longing for iced lemonade."
"Well, you shall have iced lemonade, and as much as you want," saidGeorge Maclean. "How I could let you fall, I can't think." There was amost ludicrous look of concern on his face.
"I shall grab all my prospective partners for this evening at least,"said Elma. "You can't think how treacherous that floor is."
She did not dance nearly so much as she wanted to. George Maclean andLance and Cuthbert, these three, at least, made her sit out when shewanted to be "skipping."
Isobel looked her up on hearing that she had fallen. Cuthbert said, "Shedoesn't look well, you know."
"Why, Elma--Elma is never ill," said Isobel. "Look at her colour too!"
Towards the end of the evening, they began to forget about it, and Elmadanced almost as usual. Three times she saw the floor rock, but heldon. What her partners thought of her when she clung to a strong arm,she did not stop to think. It was "talking to Miss Annie in her stuffyroom" that had started it, she remembered.
She was in an exalted frame of mind about other things. The world wasturning golden. Cuthbert was coming home, Mabel and Jean would soon bewith them, Adelaide Maud was already on the spot. And Isobel would begone in the summer.
Robin Meredith came to ask her for a dance. He seemed subdued, and hada rather nervous manner of inviting her. So that it seemed easy for herto be sedate and beg him to excuse her because she had turned giddy.Anything! she could stand anything on that evening except dance withRobin Meredith. Her training in many old ways came back to her,however.
"I shall sit out, if you don't mind," she said. "Isn't it silly to havea headache when all this fun is going on?" She found herself beingquite friendly and natural with him. The children were having a greatromp in front of them.
"Have you a headache?" he asked rather kindly.
Oh yes, she had a headache. Now she knew. It seemed to have been goingon for years. She began to talk about May Turberville's embroidery, andhow Lance had sewn a pincushion in order to outrival her. When May hadrun on to sewing daffodils on her gowns, Lance threatened to embroidersunflowers on his waistcoats. Had he seen Lance's pictures? Well,Lance was really awfully clever, particularly in drawing figures. Mr.Leighton wanted him to say he would be an artist, but Lance said hecouldn't stand the clothes he would have to wear. Mr. Leighton saidthat wearing a velveteen coat didn't mean nowadays that one was anartist, and Lance said that it was the only way of drawing the attentionof the public. He said that one always required some kind of a showmanto call out "Walk up, gentlemen, this way to the priceless treasures,"and that a velveteen coat did all that for an artist. Lance said hewould rather be on the Stock Exchange, where he could do his ownshouting. She said that frankly, with all the knowledge she had ofLance and his manner of giving people away, she should never think ofentrusting him with her money to invest. She said it in a very highvoice, since she observed just at that minute that Lance stood behindher chair.
"Well, you are a little cat, Elma," he said disdainfully. "Here am Iorganizing a party in order to let people know that some day I shall beon the Stock Exchange, and here are you influencing the gully publicagainst me."
"I object to the term 'gully,'" said Robin in a laboured but sportingmanner.
"Well--gulled if you like it better," said Lance. "Only that effectdoesn't come on till I'm done with you. You are to go and dancelancers, Meredith, while I take your place with this slanderer." It wasLance's way of asking for the next dance.
Elma gave a great sigh of relief after Robin had gone.
"He never heard me say so much in his life before," said she. "He musthave been awfully surprised."
"How you can say a word to the fellow--but there, nobody understands youLeightons. You ought to have poisoned him. Or perhaps Mabel is only alittle flirt."
He wisped a thread of the gauze of her fan.
Elma smiled at him. She was always sure of Lance.
"I say, Elma, what are we to do with Mother Mabel when she comes back?Does she mind this business, or are we allowed to refer to it in ajovial way?"
"Jovial, I think," said Elma. "I believe Mabs is awfully relieved."
She bent over and whispered to Lance.
"I should myself you know if I had just got rid of Robin."
Lance laughed immoderately.
"He's a rum chap," he said, "but he's met a good match in Isobel. GreatScott, look at the stride on her. She could take Robin up and twist himinto macaroni if she wanted to. I'm sorry for him."
"What are you going to do for Sarah?" he asked abruptly.
"Sarah?" asked Elma with her eyes wide.
"Yes, you'll have to marry the girl or something. It's hard nuts on her.Why don't you get Symington back and let him make up the quartette?"
"Mr. Symington?"
"Yes. It would be most appropriate, wouldn't it? Robin and Isobel, andSymington and Sarah. It's quite a neat arrangement. You've providedone husband, why not the other." Several demons of mischief danced inLance's eye.
"Oh, Lance, don't say that," said Elma; "it's so horrid, and--andcommon."
"Oh, it's common, is it," said Lance, "common. And I'm going to be yourstockbroker one day, and you talk to me like this."
"Look here, Lance, I'd trust you with all my worldly wealth on the StockExchange, but I won't let you joke about Mr. Symington."
"Whew," said Lance, and he looked gently and amiably into the eyes ofElma.
"When you look good like that, I know you are exceedingly naughty. Whatis it this time, Lance?"
"Nothing, Elma, except----"
"Except----"
"That I have found out all I wanted to know about Symington, thank you."
"You are just a common, low little gossip, Lance," said Elma with greatseverity. "Will you please get me a nice cool glass of iced lemonade."