Читать книгу The Star-Gazers - Fenn George Manville - Страница 2

In the drawing-room at The Warren, Mrs Rolph, a handsome, dignified lady of five-and-forty, was sitting back, with her brows knit, looking frowningly at a young and pretty girl of nineteen, whose eyes were puzzling, for in one light they seemed beautiful, in another shifting. She was a Rosetti-ish style of girl, with too much neck, a tangle of dark red hair, and lips of that peculiar pout seen in the above artist’s pictures, in conjunction with heavily-lidded eyes, and suggesting at one moment infantile retraction from a feeding-bottle, at another parting from the last kiss. There was a want of frankness in her countenance that would have struck a stranger at once, till she spoke, when the soft, winning coo of her voice proved an advocate which made the disingenuous looks and words fade into insignificance.

Her voice sounded very sweet and low now, as she said softly, —

“Are you not judging dear Robert too hardly, aunt?”

“No, Madge, no. It is as plain as can be; he thinks of nothing else when he comes home – he, a man to whom any alliance is open, to be taken in like that by a keeper’s – an ex-poacher’s daughter.”

“Judith is very ladylike and sweet,” said Marjorie softly, as if to herself.

“Madge, do you want to make me angry?” cried Mrs Rolph, indignantly. “Shame upon you! And it is partly your fault. You have been so cold and distant with him, when a few gentle words would have brought him to your side.”

“I am sure you would not have liked me to be different towards him. You would not have had me throw myself at his feet.”

The words were as gentle-sounding as could be, but all the same there was a suggestion of strength behind, if the speaker cared to exert it.

“No, no, it is not your fault, my dear,” cried Mrs Rolph, angrily; “it is mine, I can see it all now. It was a foolish mistake having her here. Educating a girl like that is a great error, and I see it now that it is too late. Oh, Madge, dear, if I could see him happily wedded to you, how different things might be. But I declare that nothing shall ever induce me to consent. If he will go on in utter rebellion to his mother, he must do so.”

“But is it too late, aunt?”

“Unless you rouse yourself up to the position, act like a woman of the world, and drag him from this wretched girl. Oh, it is too disgraceful. If I had only thought to send her away before his regiment was quartered so near.”

“Yes,” said Marjorie, musingly, “but it is too late now.”

“Then you will not try?”

“I did not say so. Here he is.”

There was a step in the hall, the sound of a stick being thrust carelessly into a stand, and, directly after, Rolph tramped into the room.

“Ah, Madge,” he said, in a careless, easy way; and, ignoring the smile of welcome with which she greeted him, he walked across to his mother’s chair.

“Well,” he said, “how is the head?” and he stooped down and kissed her brow.

“Not at all well, my dear,” she said affectionately. “I think I will go up to my room.”

“Have a drive, dear; I’ll order the tandem out.”

“No, no, my dear, I shall be better soon.”

She rose, kissed him, and left the room.

“Dodge to leave Madge and me together,” muttered the young man. “All right. Bring things to a climax.”

“How very little we see of you, Robert,” said Madge softly. “So much training?”

“Health. Shows how wise I have grown. I’m like pepper; a little of me is very nice – too much an abomination.”

Marjorie sighed.

“Hallo! Been reading poetry?”

“No,” said the girl, in a low, pained voice. “I was thinking.”

“Thinking, eh? What about?”

“Of how changed you are from the nice frank boy who used to be so loving and tender.”

“Ah, I was rather a milksop, Madge; wasn’t I?”

“I never thought so; and it pains me to hear you speak so harshly of yourself. What has made you alter so?”

“Ask Dame Nature. I was a boy; now I am a man.”

Marjorie sighed, and gave him a long, sad look.

“Well,” he said, “what is the matter?”

She looked at him again, long and wistfully.

“As if you did not know,” she said.

“Know? How should I know?”

“Then I’ll tell you,” she cried quickly.

“No, no; confide in some lady friend.”

“Robert,” she said, in a low, husky voice, and her whole manner changed, her eyes flashed and the lines about her lips grew hard. “What have I done that you should treat me like this?”

“Done? Nothing.”

“Then why have you turned so cold and hard to me?”

“I am the same to you to-day that I have always been.”

“It is not true,” she whispered, with her voice full of intensity of feeling, “you left no stone unturned to make me believe you cared for me.”

“Nonsense! Why – ”

“Silence! You shall hear me now,” she continued, with her excitement growing. “I resisted all this till you almost forced me to care for you. You even make me now confess it in this shameless way, and, when you feel that you are the master, you play with me – trifle with my best feelings.”

“Gammon! Madge, what is the matter with you? I never dreamed of such a thing.”

“What!”

“Are you going mad?”

“Yes,” she cried passionately, “driven so by you. It is shameful. I could not have believed the man lived who would have treated a woman so basely. But I am not blind. There is a reason for it all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think me a child? I am to be won and then tossed aside for the new love – fancy, the poacher’s daughter, and when – ”

“Don’t be a fool, Madge. You are saying words now that you will repent.”

“I’ll say them,” she cried, half wild with jealous rage, and her words sounding the more intense from their being uttered in a low, harsh whisper, “if I die for it. The gamekeeper’s daughter, the girl taken in here by your mother out of charity.”

“Madge!”

“Who is to be the next favourite, when you are weary of your last conquest – one of the kitchen wenches?”

“Perhaps,” he said coolly.

“Rob! Have you no heart that you treat me as you do?”

“I never thought, never said a word to make you think I meant – er – marriage.”

“Think you meant marriage?” she whispered. “I did love you as dearly as I hate you now for your heartless cruelty to me. But you shall repent it – repent it bitterly.”

“Look here,” he said roughly; “for years past we have lived in this house like brother and sister, and I won’t have you speak like this. Does my mother know?”

“Ask her.”

“Bah!”

“You dare not ask her what she thinks or whether she approves of your choice. Captain Rolph in love with the gamekeeper’s daughter! Is she to be taken to the county ball, and introduced to society? And is she to wear the family diamonds? Judith – Judy – the miserable, low-bred – ”

“Here, hold hard!”

Marjorie Emlin stopped short, startled into silence by the furious look and tone she had evoked. The young man had listened, and from time to time had made deprecating movements to try and turn away the furious woman’s wrath till she had made this last attack, when he glared with a rage so overpowering that she shrank from him.

“You have done well,” he said. “My mother looks upon you as a daughter. I have always been to you as a brother.”

“It is not true,” she said, as she stood quivering with fear and rage before him, trying to meet his eye. Then, with a low cry, full of vindictive passion, she struck at him, and ran out of the room.

“Curse the girl!” growled Rolph. “I wish women wouldn’t be such fools. A kiss and a few warm words, and then, hang ’em! you’re expected to marry ’em. Man can’t marry every pretty girl he kisses. They want a missionary among ’em to tell ’em this isn’t Turkey. If there’s much more of it, I’m off back to Aldershot. No, I’m not,” he added, with a half laugh, “not yet – Hallo, mother! You?”

“Yes, my boy. I saw Madge go out just now, looking wild and excited. Rob, dear, you have been speaking to her?”

“Well, I suppose so,” he said bitterly.

“And you have told her you love her? – asked her to be your wife?”

“Good heavens, mother! are you gone mad too? – Madge – I never dreamed of such a thing.”

“Why?” said Mrs Rolph, with a strange coldness.

“Because – because – ”

“Yes; because you have taken a fancy to another,” said Mrs Rolph sternly. “Robert, my son, it is not I who am mad, but you. Have you thought well over all this?”

“Don’t ask questions,” he said sulkily.

“I am your mother, sir, and I assert my right to question you on such a matter as this, as your poor father would have questioned you. But there is no need. I have done wrong, and yet I cannot blame myself, for how could I, his mother, know that my son would act otherwise than as a gentleman.”

“Well, I never do.”

“It is false. When Mary Hayle died, I bade her go in peace, for I would try to be a mother to the orphaned girl. Heaven knows, I tried to be. I brought her here, and made her the humble companion of your cousin Madge. She shared her lessons; she was taught everything, that she might be able to earn her own livelihood as a governess.”

“Well, I know all that.”

“To be treated with ingratitude. My foolish son, when he comes home, must allow himself to be enmeshed by a cunning and deceitful woman.”

“What bosh, mother!”

“But it is true. You do not dare to tell me you do not love Judith Hayle?”

“There is no dare in question. I like the girl.”

“Unhappy boy! and she has led you on.”

Captain Rolph whistled.

“Any telegram come for me? I sent a man to Brackley.”

“Telegram!”

“Yes. I want to know about the footrace at Lilley Bridge.”

Mrs Rolph gave her foot an impatient stamp.

“Listen to me, sir. This is no time for thinking about low sports.”

“Hallo? Low?”

“Yes, sir; low. I have never interfered when I saw you taking so much interest in these pursuits. My son, I said to our friends, is an officer and a gentleman, and if he likes to encourage athleticism in the country by his presence at these meetings, he has a right to do so; but I have not liked it, though I have been silent. You know I have never interfered about your relaxations.”

“No; you’ve been a splendid mater,” he said laughingly.

“And I have been proud of my manly son; but when I see him stooping to folly – ”

“Misapplied quotation, mater – when lovely woman stoops to folly.”

“Be serious, sir. I will not have you degrade yourself in the eyes of the neighbourhood by such conduct, for it means disgrace. What would the Days say – Sir John and Glynne? If it had been she, I would not have cared.”

“Let the Days be,” he said gruffly.

“I will,” said Mrs Rolph; “but listen, Rob, dear; think of poor Madge.”

“Hang poor Madge! Look here, once for all, mother; I’m not a witch in Macbeth. I don’t want three ounces of a red-haired wench – nor seven stone neither.”

“Rob! Shame!”

“I’m not going to have Madge rammed down my throat. If I’m to marry, she’s not in the running.”

“What? when you know my wishes?”

“Man marries to satisfy his own wishes, not his mother’s. I have other ideas.”

“Then what are they, sir?” said Mrs Rolph scornfully.

“That’s my business,” he said, taking out his cigar-case.

“Then, am I to understand that you intend to form an alliance with the family of our keeper?” said Mrs Rolph sarcastically.

“Bah!” roared her son fiercely; and he strode out of the room and banged the door.

“Gone!” cried Mrs Rolph, wringing her hands and making her rings crackle one against the other. “I was mad to have the wretched girl here. What fools we women are.”

Her son was saying precisely the same as he marched away.

“Does she think me mad?” he growled. “Marry freckle-faced Madge! – form an alliance with Ben Hayle’s Judy! Not quite such a fool. I’ll go and do it, and show the old girl a trick worth two of that. She’s as clean-limbed a girl as ever stepped, and there’s a look of breed in her that I like. Must marry, I suppose. Ck! For the sake of the estate, join the two then – I will – at once. It will stop their mouths at home, and make an end of the Madge business. She’ll be all right, and begin kissing and hugging her and calling her dearest in a week. That’s the way to clear that hedge, so here goes.”

He stopped, took a short run and cleared the hedge at the side of the lane in reality to begin with, before striking off through one of the adjacent fir woods, so as to reach the sandy lanes and wild common on the way to Brackley.