CHAPTER VII.
THE CHAINS BEGIN TO FRET.
Meanwhile Trevor went slowly back to the hotel. He had enjoyed his talkwith Florence; he liked her brusque way, she did not flatter him, andshe was, he considered, a particularly attractive-looking girl. In Mrs.Aylmer's society he was made a great deal of and fussed over, and whenthat happens to a young man he always enjoys the sort of girl who snubshim by way of contrast. He thought Mrs. Aylmer the less one of the mostextraordinary women he had ever met; but as he liked Florence, and wasin the mood for a bit of an adventure, he would gladly have accepted hermother's invitation to supper if she had not tabooed it.
"You are not to come," said Florence, looking at him with her wide-openfrank dark eyes; "mother is the soul of hospitality, but we are verypoor: we have nothing proper to give you for supper, and I for one wouldmuch rather you did not come."
"I do not in the least mind what I eat," he said, in a somewhat pleadingtone, and he looked full at Florence with his blue eyes.
"Nevertheless, you are not to come; it is only my mother's way: shealways goes on like that with strangers. I never allow people to accepther invitations."
After this there was nothing more to be said, and Florence and Trevorbade each other a very friendly good-bye.
When Trevor reached the "Crown and Garter" he found that Mrs. Aylmer andMiss Keys were already at dinner. They had both wondered where he was,and Bertha Keys had been a little anxious and a little uneasy. When hecame in, the faces of both ladies brightened.
"What makes you so late?" said Mrs. Aylmer, looking up at him.
"I had a bit of an adventure," he said. He drew his chair to the table."There was a slight chance of my not coming in to supper at all," hecontinued. "I met that charming little lady who visited you to-day, Mrs.Aylmer."
"What?" said Mrs. Aylmer, dropping her knife and fork.
"I met her again, and she introduced me to her daughter and to anotheryoung lady who is staying with them. By the way, they are yourrelations, so the little lady told me, and she was very hospitable, andinvited me to supper, and I should have been very glad to go if theyoung lady had not told me that I must not accept her mother'sinvitation."
Now, these remarks were anything but agreeable to Mrs. Aylmer, and stillless did they suit Bertha Keys. Neither lady said anything, however, atthe present moment, but each glanced at the other. After a time, Mrs.Aylmer stretched out her hand and touched Trevor on his sleeve.
"I am sorry you have made the acquaintance of Miss Florence Aylmer," shesaid.
"Sorry? Why?" he asked. "I consider her a remarkably nice girl."
"I regret to have to inform you that she is anything but a nice girl. Iwill tell you about her another time. It is quite contrary to my wishesthat you should have anything to do with her: you understand?"
Trevor flushed. He had a way of looking annoyed at times, and he lookedannoyed now. His silken chains sometimes fretted him a great deal. Heoften wondered whether he had done right in allowing himself to becomeMrs. Aylmer's adopted son. Bertha, however, gave him a warning glance,and he said nothing.
Presently dinner was over, and Bertha beckoned to him to join her on thebalcony.
"Shall we go out on the sands?" she said. "I have something I want tosay to you."
"But Mrs. Aylmer has something to say to me also--something about thatparticularly nice girl, Miss Florence Aylmer."
"She will not say it to you to-night; she has a headache, and Ipersuaded her to go early to bed. I quite sympathise with you, too,about Florence; she is one of my greatest friends."
Trevor gave Bertha a grateful glance.
"I am so glad you like her," he said. "I was never yet mistaken aboutanyone, and I took to her frank ways. She looks like the sort of girlwho will never deceive you."
Bertha gave a peculiar smile, which vanished almost as soon as itvisited her face.
"Shall we meet, say, in twenty minutes," she said, "just by the pier? Imust see Mrs. Aylmer to bed; but I can join you then."
"Very well," he answered.
Bertha left the balcony, and Trevor, lighting a cigar, tried to soothehis somewhat ruffled feelings. He had never liked Mrs. Aylmer less thanhe did at that moment.
"It is horrid when a woman runs down a girl," he said to himself; "suchbad form, and, as to this girl, it is impossible Mrs. Aylmer can knowanything against her."
Presently he looked at his watch, and prepared to keep his appointmentwith Bertha. He liked Bertha Keys very much; she was always jolly andgood-tempered, and she often tried to smooth over matters when there wasany little difference between himself and Mrs. Aylmer. When he reachedthe pier he found her waiting for him. It was a moonlight night, and theyoung couple began to pace up and down.
"What is it?" he said at last. "Have you anything special to say?"
"I know you are in a bad humour, and I am not surprised," she said.
"Listen, Miss Keys," said Trevor. He dropped his cigar, and turned andfaced her. "I often feel that I cannot stand this sort of thing muchlonger: it is like being in chains. I would much rather talk the matterout with Mrs. Aylmer, tell her I am very much obliged to her for herkind intentions with regard to me, but that I would sooner carve out myown career in life and be indebted to no one."
"And how silly that would be!" said Bertha. "But what do you want Mrs.Aylmer to do?"
"To let me go. I feel like a captive in her train; it is not manly. Inever felt more annoyed than when she spoke to me as she did thisevening. It is horrid when a woman abuses a girl--such bad taste."
"You know how peculiar she is," said Bertha; "but you suit her betterthan anyone I know. You want her to give you money to allow you to livein town. I am sure I can manage it. I quite understand that you musthate being tied to her apron-strings."
"It is detestable," said the young man; "and if it were not for my ownmother, who seems so happy about me, and so grateful to Mrs. Aylmer, Ishould break with her to-morrow."
"I quite sympathise with you," said Bertha. "You must have money, andyou must go to town. You want to read for the Bar: I will see that it isarranged. Mrs. Aylmer is rich, but not rich enough for you to live allyour life in idleness. It would break her heart now if you deserted her:she has gone through much."
"What do you mean?"
"I cannot tell you."
"Why does she dislike Miss Florence Aylmer?"
"I would rather not say."
"But she will tell me herself."
"I shall beg of her not to do so."
"By the way," said Trevor, after a pause, "is this girl Mrs. Aylmer'sniece?"
"She is her niece by marriage. Mrs. Aylmer's husband was FlorenceAylmer's uncle."
"Then in the name of all that is just," cried Trevor impetuously, "whyshould I have the fortune which is really meant for Florence Aylmer?Oh, this is unendurable," he cried; "I cannot stand it. I will tell Mrs.Aylmer to-morrow that I am obliged to her, but that I will not occupy afalse position."
"You will do fearful harm if you make such a remark," said Bertha."Something very sad happened a few years ago, something which I cannottell you, but----" Bertha's lips quivered and her face was very pale.
"What is it? Having told me so much, you must go on."
Bertha was silent for a moment.
"What has Miss Aylmer done? If there is a frank, open-hearted,nice-looking girl, she is one. I do not care so much for her mother, butMiss Aylmer herself--I defy anyone to throw a stone at her."
"I own that she is a nice girl, a very nice girl; but once, once--well,anyhow, she managed to offend Mrs. Aylmer. You must not ask me forparticulars. I want you to be most careful; that is why I have broughtyou out here to-night. I want you to be most careful to avoid thesubject with Mrs. Aylmer. Florence offended her, and she has resolvednever to see her and never to speak to her again. She is annoyed at yourhaving made her acquaintance, and I doubt not we shall leave Dawlishto-morrow on that account. Be satisfied that Florence only did whatperhaps another girl equ
ally tempted would have done, but it was----"
"It was what? The worst thing you can do is to throw out innuendoesabout a girl. What did she do?"
"She was not quite straight, if you must know--not quite straight abouta prize which was offered in the school where she was being educated."
"She told me that you were a teacher in the same school."
"Did she?" said Bertha. Her face turned pale, but her companion was notlooking at her at that moment. "Ah, yes, poor girl: that is how I happento know all about it. It was hushed up at the time, and of courseFlorence has quite retrieved her character. It was nothing whatever butwhat a girl tempted as she was would do, but it settled her as far asMrs. Aylmer was concerned, and if you do not wish to bring fresh troubleupon the niece you will avoid the subject with her aunt. That is what Iwished to say to you."
"How can I avoid it? It is quite impossible for me to be long with Mrs.Aylmer and prevent her speaking about what she has made up her mind totell me."
"I have been thinking of that," said Bertha; "the very best thing youcan do is to go up to London to-morrow morning."
"I go to London to-morrow?"
"Yes; go away for the present. I will tell her that you have had suddennews of your mother: that she wants to see you; or you can leave her anote to that effect."
"But it would not be true." Trevor darted a keen glance at hiscompanion.
Bertha coloured again.
"It is difficult to manage with people who are as quixotically straightas you are," she said, after a pause; "I want you to keep away for yourown sake. If what I have suggested does not please you, think ofsomething else."
"I will tell her that I wish for a change: that is true enough," heanswered; "but how will that help me? When I come back, she will tell methe thing you do not wish me to hear about Miss Aylmer."
"Oh, I never said I did not wish you to hear it: I think it would bebetter for your peace of mind not to hear it: that is all. I have saidthat it was a little shady: that it happened years ago: that Florencehas quite retrieved her character."
Trevor stamped his foot impatiently.
"I will not go away to-morrow," he said, after a pause. "I should liketo see Miss Florence Aylmer again. I will ask her to tell me franklywhat occurred some years ago."
"You will?" said Bertha, and now her face looked frightened.
"Yes," he answered, looking full into her eyes; "I will. She isperfectly honest. She can excuse herself if necessary. Anyhow, she shallhave the chance of telling her own story in her own way."