Читать книгу Where Three Roads Meet - Ethel M. Dell - Страница 9

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Molly’s first interview with Lady Aubreystone was not as alarming as might have been anticipated. In the first place she was too weary and too bewildered to be aware of any acute embarrassment, and in the second her appearance with its youth and pathos made a more favourable impression upon the old lady than that hard critic had deemed possible.

Her greeting was in fact wholly different from what she had intended it to be. “Heavens, child! You look like a ghost!” she said. “Why didn’t you stay in bed?”

Molly’s smile was one of pure courtesy. “I’m not ill, thank you,” she said. “I always get up early.”

“Then you’d better go back again,” said Lady Aubreystone gruffly.

Molly shook her head. “I couldn’t, thank you very much. I have my little Rollo to see to.”

“Rollo? Who’s that? The child? Sounds like a dog,” was Lady Aubreystone’s comment.

Molly flushed rather painfully. “It’s only a pet name,” she explained. “His real name is Ronald—after his father.”

Lady Aubreystone frowned; but in a moment softened and drew the girl to her. “Well, well, I suppose that’s natural. So you’re going to marry again, I hear, and make my son happy!”

Molly’s flush faded so completely that the old woman, watching, thought that she would faint. But she answered with a composure that reassured her. “He says I must, so I expect I shall. But it’s difficult for anyone to be happy now, isn’t it?”

Lady Aubreystone made a brief sound of sympathy. “I know what you mean. When you get to my age, you’ll expect it. But it’s hard at yours. I don’t suppose you’ll believe me when I tell you that you’ll get over it, but you will for all that. Unless I’m much mistaken, the happiest time of your life is in front of you.”

Molly’s lips compressed themselves, but she uttered no contradiction.

“Oh yes, it is,” asserted Lady Aubreystone, still watching her. “You wait till you’re married! It’s a pity to keep all your eggs in one basket. You’ll be happier when there are more of them.”

Molly spoke in a low voice. “I’m not thinking about happiness any more. Perhaps I’ve had my share. Anyhow, I suppose one can do one’s best without it.”

Old Lady Aubreystone gave her a shrewd look. “You’re a queer girl,” she said. “But for goodness’, sake, don’t cultivate sadness! I must have cheery faces round me. I don’t want to hear anything about your troubles, any more than I ever want to talk about my own. You certainly can’t do your best for anyone if you’re being miserable. And it takes time to be unhappy, remember that! No busy people ever are.”

“I am sure you are right,” said Molly humbly. “Only sometimes I can’t help feeling that it would be a help if only one had a little time to think.”

“Not a bit of it!” rejoined Lady Aubreystone with a kindling of the eyes that denoted her determination to crush every vestige of an opinion that differed from her own. “Absurd nonsense! Girls never stop to think, and a good thing too! They’d never get married if they did. There are too many of them nowadays.”

Molly regarded the indomitable old lady with steady blue eyes that were not wanting in courage. “Yes,” she said. “It seems rather mean for any of us to marry twice, don’t you think?”

Lady Aubreystone frowned upon her, then laughed—a raucous laugh that was like the croaking of a raven. “Oh, you and your theories!” she said. “You’re one of the lucky ones. Just you realize that! I believe I can get rather fond of you, if you behave yourself. But mind—you’ve got to make a study of it! Being a good wife is a whole-time job, and you must give your mind to it.”

“Being a good mother is the same,” said Molly, almost under her breath.

“Yes, and you’re going to be that too.” Lady Aubreystone put an arm suddenly about the slender figure. “Heavens, child! How scraggy you are! Who would give you credit for producing that bouncing boy of yours? I must take you in hand and feed you up before any more come along. How old are you? Twenty? Well, well, plenty of time—if only this miserable War will stop! But not much to be wasted till it does. You’re going to be a good girl and do your duty as my son’s wife, eh?”

She looked up at Molly with a gleam of persuasion in her hectoring old eyes, but her arm held like a vice.

Molly hesitated a moment, and then she stooped and quietly kissed the withered face. “Yes, I’ll try hard—to do my duty,” she said.

She did not expect to be caught closer in that steely embrace, and she was startled the next moment to find herself drawn irresistibly downwards, and pressed against Lady Aubreystone’s breast. It was a novel and not wholly pleasant sensation, for she could not have checked the gesture had she desired to do so. But she sought to smother her discomfiture by surrendering completely to the old woman’s whim.

“That’s right,” said the harsh voice. “I’m pleased with you. I think my son has shown some good sense, and the sooner you’re married the better. You leave everything to me, and don’t fret! Your own child shall be looked after. I’ll see to that.”

“You’re very kind,” whispered Molly, hoping to escape.

“Kind!” said Lady Aubreystone. “I’m sensible, that’s all. Now don’t you go and disappoint me! I can’t endure much more at my age.”

“I will try to be everything you want,” Molly said.

“Good! That’s a promise.” The grim arms tightened. “I’ve borne seven children in my time. I thought it was enough, but it wasn’t. Nearly half of them were girls. Ah, here’s Caroline! I suppose I mustn’t say that in front of her. Here Caroline! Come and look at this child! She is going to be your very younger sister. No, you stay as you are, child! You’re all right.”

The door had opened to admit Caroline Aubreystone who entered with an athletic swing and stopped short to stare.

Molly, greatly disconcerted, managed to lift her head and turn a scarlet and apologetic face in her direction. She had never even spoken to the Honourable Caroline, and the situation embarrassed her beyond words.

But Lady Aubreystone only laughed—her raven croak. “Come on in, Caroline! She can’t get up to drop you a curtsey. You’ll have to take her as you find her—my adopted daughter—your adopted sister.”

Caroline spoke briefly as she advanced. Her look was somehow scathing. “My prospective sister-in-law, I suppose?” she said in a voice that was extraordinarily like her mother’s. “I didn’t expect to find you quite so literally clasped to the family bosom, I admit. Well, I suppose it’s all in a good cause. You may be interested to hear”—her hard-featured face suddenly twisted in a mirthless smile—“that I have just interviewed your charming infant, who is still shrieking himself blue in the face over the ordeal.”

That was more than enough for Molly. All scruples were scattered, and she accomplished her release with a swift and violent effort that admitted of no further restraint. “Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me! I must go!” she panted, and fled through the open door before either mother or daughter could attempt to check her.

They looked at each other—the older woman with an expression of semi-angry frustration, the younger with open contempt.

It was the latter who spoke. “It’ll be a case of weaning the mother from the child with a vengeance. Ivor will have his work cut out.”

“But he will succeed.” Lady Aubreystone spoke in an undertone but her words were fateful. “I can conquer that slip of a thing single-handed, and amongst us all we shall manage to break her in to the Aubreystone traditions. She’s young and fairly plastic yet. Anyhow, I have accepted her.”

“So I perceive,” said Caroline drily. “Well, I never expected to be consulted, but I wouldn’t have chosen a bereaved widow with a child if I’d been Ivor. They are not plastic as a rule. However—we shall see. It’s three to one, as you say.”

“If she fails to give us an heir——” said Lady Aubreystone in a voice that shook too much to continue the sentence.

Her daughter snapped her fingers in the air. “That’ll be her look-out. It’ll be for us to find some cause or impediment for terminating the contract. But she’s young enough. She’ll probably have a dozen.”

“But she’s got a will of her own,” said Lady Aubreystone. “I can sense it. And girls are beginning to get so headstrong. That’s why I say she must be broken in.”

Caroline swung to the window with her man’s gait and looked out. It was a day of perfect June. The green world that stretched below her was like a peaceful dream.

She made an abrupt scornful sound and swung back again. “Well, she shall be—if Ivor doesn’t go soft over her. He’s well on the way.”

“Oh—Ivor! I can manage him,” said Lady Aubreystone with sweeping self-confidence. “There’s not one of my children who can say he has ever had the better of me.”

Caroline laughed sardonically. “You put that very tactfully, but I quite realize that the feminine gender doesn’t count in your estimation—except as a means to an end. What a comic world we live in! The brainless male forced into a position of authority which he is totally unfitted to occupy! It’s a good thing there are a few brainless women left—from his point of view.”

“Oh, my dear Caroline!” her mother protested irritably. “What nonsense are you talking now?”

Caroline laughed. “Not nonsense, my dear Mother; heresy is a better word. You used to punish me for it as a child, but you never managed to exterminate it. I probably inherited it from you.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Lady Aubreystone testily. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested. All I care about now is to get Ivor married as soon as possible. I’ve given my consent, so there’s nothing to wait for.”

“Really an ideal romance!” commented her daughter. “Well, I’m off to the stables to do some gingering up. I’ll march the bride to the altar if she requires an escort. But I don’t think on the whole you’ll find that the prospect of becoming Lady Aubreystone is one which she will desire to postpone indefinitely—unless she’s a bigger fool than she looks.”

With which caustic surmise she tramped to the door, paused to light a cigarette, and then swung it open and went away, leaving a draught behind her.