Читать книгу Sparrows - Horace W. C. Newte - Страница 6

"And what are your aims in life?" Miss Spraggs asked presently; she had found the peas to be as succulent as she had wished.

"To earn my own living," replied Mavis, who had seen that it was she to whom the agreeable rattle had spoken.

"But, surely, that doesn't satisfy the young women of today!" continued Miss Spraggs.

"I fear it does me; but then I don't know any young women to be influenced by," answered Mavis.

"I thought every young woman, nowadays, was thirsting with ambition," said Miss Spraggs.

"I suppose everyone, who isn't an idiot, has her preferences," remarked Mavis.

"I don't mean that. I thought every girl was determined on living her own life to the exclusion of everything else," continued Miss Spraggs.

"Really!" asked Mavis in some surprise, as she believed that it was only the plain and unattractive women who were of that complexion of thought.

"Despise marriage and all that," put in Lowther, his eyes on Mavis as he tossed off a glass of wine.

"But I don't despise marriage," protested Mavis.

"Really!" said Mrs Devitt, whose sensibilities were a trifle shocked by this remark.

"If two people are in love with each other, and can afford to marry, it seems a particularly natural proceeding," said Mavis simply.

"One that you would welcome?" asked Miss Spraggs, as she raised her thin eyebrows.

"One that someone else would welcome," put in Devitt gallantly.

But Mavis took no notice of this interruption, as she said:

"Of course. Nothing I should wish for more."

Miss Spraggs made two or three further efforts to take a rise out of Mavis; in each case, such was the younger woman's naturalness and self-possession, that it was the would—be persecutor who appeared at a disadvantage.

After luncheon the womenfolk moved to the drawing room; when Victoria presently went to sit with her invalid brother, Mrs Devitt assumed a business-like manner as she requested Mavis to sit by her. The latter knew that her fate was about to be decided. They sat by the window where, but for the intervening foliage, Mavis would have been able to see her old home.

"This is our best chance of a quiet talk, so I'll come to the point at once," began Mrs Devitt.

"By all means," said Mavis, as Miss Spraggs took up a book and pretended to be interested in its contents.

"How soon do you require a situation?"

"At once."

"Has Miss Mee applied to anyone else in the neighbourhood on your account?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"And you yourself, have you written to anyone here?"

"There's no one I could write to. There's not one of my father's old friends I've kept up. They've all forgotten my very existence, years ago."

"Sure?"

"Who am I to remember?" asked Mavis simply.

It was on Mrs Devitt's lips to give the girl Sir Archibald's message, but the thought of her unmarried step—daughter restrained her. She addressed Mavis rather hurriedly (she tried hard to act conscientiously):

"I may as well say at once that the opportunity that presented itself, when I wrote to Miss Mee, has passed."

The room seemed to move round Mavis. Mrs Devitt continued, as she noticed the look of dismay on the girl's face:

"But I need hardly tell you that I will do all I can to do something for you."

"Thank you," said Mavis.

"Can't you get anything to do in London?"

"I might."

"Have you tried?"

"A little."

Mavis felt tears welling into her eyes; she would never have forgiven herself if she had displayed the extremity of weeping before these people, who, after all, were not of her social world. She resolved to change the subject and keep any expression of her disappointment till she was safe from unsympathetic eyes.

"Did you know my father?" she asked.

"I didn't live here, then. I married Mr—my husband six years ago."

"I suppose he knew him?"

"I gather so."

Very soon after, the two men came into the drawing-room, having considerably curtailed the time they usually devoted to their cigars.

"We were discussing getting something to do for Miss Keeves," said Mrs Devitt.

"You haven't thought of anything?" asked her husband.

"Not yet," replied his wife.

"I suppose you wouldn't care to go into an office?" he continued.

"A lot of girls do that kind of thing nowadays," said Mavis.

"Or a shop?" put in Miss Spraggs.

Mavis glanced up.

"I mean a—flower shop," corrected Miss Spraggs, misliking the look in Mavis's yellow eyes.

Mavis looked towards where she could have seen her old home but for the intervening trees.

"I think I'd better see about my train," she said as she rose.

"Must you, dear?" asked Mrs Devitt.

The men pressed her to stay, particularly Lowther.

"I think I'll go. I want to get back in good time," said Mavis.

"I'll drive you to the station, if I may," volunteered Lowther.

"Thank you; if it's giving you no trouble," she replied.

Lowther left the room. Mavis said good-bye to the others, including Victoria, who joined her for this purpose, from whom the girl learned that Harold was asleep.

As Devitt conducted Mavis to the door, which the fat butler held open, she heard the snorting of a motor; the next minute, a superb car, driven by Lowther, pulled up before the front door. Mavis had never before been in a petrol-propelled carriage (automobiles were then coming into use); she looked forward to her new experience.

She got in beside Lowther, waved her hand to Devitt and was gone. She was surprised at the swift, easy motion, but had an idea that, soon after they left the house, Lowther Devitt was not travelling so fast as when they set out.

"How delightful!" she cried.

"Eh!"

"I've never been in a motor before."

"What?"

"I really haven't. Don't talk: I want to enjoy it."

Seeing that the girl was disinclined for speech, he increased the pace. Mavis was quite disappointed at the short time it took to reach the station. They got out, when Mavis learned that she had twenty minutes to wait. She was sorry, as she disliked the ardent way in which Lowther looked at her. She answered his remarks in monosyllables.

"I'm afraid you're no end angry with me," he said presently.

"Why?" she said coldly.

"Because I punished Jill for disobedience."

"It was cruel of you."

"I made sure she was worrying you."

"Indeed!"

"But it was almost worth while to upset you, you looked so fine when you were angry."

"Did it frighten you?" she asked half scornfully.

"Almost. You looked just like a young tigress."

"I've been told that before."

"Then you often get angry?"

"If I'm annoyed. But it's soon over."

"I go up to town sometimes," he said presently.

"How clever of you!"

"I go up to my club—the Junior Constitutional. May I look you up when I run up next?"

"Here's the train coming in."

"Bother! It's so nice talking to you. I'm no end of sorry the mater isn't taking you on."

"I am too," replied Mavis, who, at once, saw the meaning that Lowther might misread into her words.

"Can I look you up when next I'm in town?" he asked eagerly.

"Oh yes, you can look me up," she replied diffidently.

"We ought to go out to supper one evening."

"I should be delighted."

"You would! Really you would?"

"If you brought your sister. I must find a seat."

"No hurry. It always waits some time here; milk-cans and all that. By Jove! I wish I were going up alone with you. And that's what I meant. I thought we'd go out to supper at the Savoy or Kettner's by ourselves, eh?"

She looked at him coldly, critically.

"Or say the Carlton," he added, thinking that such munificence might dazzle her.

"I'll get in here," she said.

Seeing Mavis select a third-class carriage, his appreciation of her immediately lessened.

"Tell you what," he said to her through the window, "we won't bother about going out to grub; we'll have a day in the country; we can enjoy ourselves just as much there. Eh, dear? Oh, I beg your pardon, but you're so pretty, you know, and all that."

Mavis noticed the way in which he leered at her while he said these words. She bit her lip in order to restrain the words that were on her tongue; it was of no avail.

"I'll tell you something," she cried.

"Yes—yes; quickly, the train is just off."

"If my father had been alive, and we'd been living here, you'd not have dared to speak to me like that; in fact, you wouldn't have had the chance."

It was a crestfallen, tired, and heartsick Mavis who opened the door of Brandenburg College with her latch-key in the evening. The only thing that sustained her was the memory of the white look of anger which appeared in Lowther Devitt's face when she had unmistakably resented his insult.