NANCY CARRIES IT OFF!
There was no trace of tears on Nancy's smiling face, when three quarters of an hour later, she appeared among the company, looking particularly fresh, and self-possessed. In answer to eager queries, she gave a vivid description of the lure of the oak chest, her rustic hostess, her unique sleeping chamber, and early morning excursion across meadows steeped in dew.
"And what about Sir Dudley all this time?" inquired Mrs. Speyde, "you haven't murdered him by any chance, have you?"
The reply to this question, came in Mrs. De Wolfe's very deepest voice, "Dudley Villars made himself scarce, of course; he is a man of the world and able to cope with awkward incidents. He was leaving to-day under any circumstances,—and has already sent for his car."
By degrees the subject subsided, and lapsed; the guests were more or less engaged in preparations for their departure, there was not much time, for sustained discussion, and as far as Nancy was concerned, an exhausting ordeal, was satisfactorily closed.
Before her numerous friends motored away to the station, or to their several homes in the neighbourhood, Nancy held a short parley with two. Firstly, with Mrs. Hicks, who pounced upon her in the hall, and drawing her into one of the embrasures, said: "My dear child, I've scarcely had a word with you these two days; and I've just been longing and aching to hear what you and Mayne said to one another on Thursday evening? I suppose you know that I sent him!"
"I suppose I do," rejoined Nancy bluntly.
"Has anything been settled?"
"No, not exactly; I believe he went away early this morning."
"He did," assented Mrs. Hicks, "but he is within reach, and you can easily put your hand upon him. Always remember, my dear child, that whenever I can do anything for you, or him, I will. I've had a most gorgeous time! everyone has been so jolly and friendly, it's almost as if I was back in India, and I'll never forget this tennis week as long as ever I live. Now I must go and get my things together, as I see my train is 12.5, so ta, ta, for the present," and she moved off.
The broad back of Mrs. Hicks was scarcely out of sight, before she was superseded by Billy Miller, who was evidently charged with an important subject.
"Our car has not arrived yet, Nancy," she began, and taking her arm she added, "I want you to come out on the lawn with me,—for I've got something to tell you," and Nancy assenting, the two girls passed through the wide french window, and strolled down towards the tennis courts.
"I should like you to be one of the first to know, that I am engaged to Major Horne," announced Miss Miller. "We settled it last evening, out here in the moonlight."
"Oh, Billy, I'm delighted!" said Nancy. "I always thought it was going to come off. I think he is charming, and you will have a delightful mother-in-law,—but what will become of your family?"
"They will have to look after themselves," was the heartless rejoinder. "I have given them a splendid start; you see Minna is married, Brenda is engaged, there is only Baby left,—and she is the flower of the flock; then you know some of us will always be coming backwards and forwards. The Pater has taken a house in town,—which will be a sort of family hotel. Of course, Nancy, I expect you to be one of my bridesmaids. By the way, my dear, you nearly gave us fits last evening."
"I'm afraid I did, and I cannot say that I was very happy myself."
"No; I could see that Mrs. De Wolfe was on tenterhooks, although she did her best, to pretend that your staying out all night, was a mere everyday affair! Next to her, amazing to relate, the one who took your absence most sorely to heart, was a mere acquaintance,—Captain Mayne! He seemed uncommonly abstracted, and silent, and that was not all,—I wish it had been; his room happened to be over mine, and I could hear him walking about the whole night! I would go to sleep and wake up, and there he was, still doing sentry go! At one time I had an idea of getting out of bed, and knocking on the ceiling with an umbrella: perhaps he had toothache?"
"Perhaps he had," assented Nancy, but in her heart she knew, that it was not toothache, but dreadful misgivings with regard to herself, that had made him pace his room! He had warned her more than once against Sir Dudley; and his suspicions, and dislike, had proved to be only too well founded.
When all the guests had departed, a Sunday calm descended on the Court. Mrs. Horne and Roger De Wolfe, still remained; the former as a support and confidante and comfort to her old friend, fatigued by her recent activities, and greatly shaken by Nancy's adventure,—required someone of her own age, into whose ear she could pour her troubles.
The two old ladies wandered about the green lawns, or sat in the shade together, enjoying what is known, as a "good talk." The chief subject of Mrs. De Wolfe's discourse, was Dudley Villars; that catastrophe had dislocated years of happy friendship. "I had hereto always quoted him, believed in him, and look at what he has done!" Mrs. Horne, an unusually noble-minded woman, never attempted to recall their interview, and her warning at Cadenabbia—merely contenting herself with saying, "I never liked Sir Dudley, or trusted him, my dear; but I thought that perhaps, as you were so fond of him, there must be good in him, which I could not discover."
Whilst these two friends enjoyed one another's society, Roger De Wolfe went round the farms, and coverts, with bailiff and keepers, more as agent, for his cousin, than with the eye of a man inspecting his future possessions! He was, as Mrs. De Wolfe had said, a good, single-minded, stupid fellow,—forty years of age, and still unmarried. Even his best friends were bound to admit that Roger was a bore;—a silent bore,—which is one of the most trying description. The type that sits, and sticks, scarcely speaking,—obviously waiting to be entertained; absorbing ideas, like a great sponge.
Nancy liked Roger; at least he was restful; and when his two chief topics were exhausted,—prize retrievers, and carpentering—she suffered him to, so to speak, "stew in his own juice." They played croquet, and the girls from the Rectory came up and made a set at tennis; but as a rule Nancy spent a good deal of time with herself; lounging in a hammock, dipping into a novel, or sitting on the rustic seat, at the end of the long turf walk. The two old ladies went motoring of an afternoon, and Mrs. De Wolfe expressed her intention of calling on Mrs. Bode and thanking her in person.
"I daresay you will like to come too, Nancy," she said.
"On the contrary, I don't think I could endure to see that house again; no I really couldn't face it! I have already written to Mrs. Bode and sent her a present, and if she offers you a blue bowl, please say that I have changed my mind,—but you need not add, that I do not wish for anything to remind me of her abode."
The day following her visit to Mrs. Bode, Mrs. De Wolfe declared, that she must go and look up Richard Mayne. "I fancy he is feeling rather lonely, now that his nephew has departed, and I'll ask him over on a little visit. I must confess, I was greatly affronted with Derek: rushing out of the house before breakfast,—just as if it had been an hotel; it would have served him right, if I had sent a stiff bill after him! However, I had a nice note from him,—a note of apology, telling me, that he had been unable to wait to see me that morning, as urgent business summoned him to London, and he hoped that I would forgive him? I expect he will be down again, before long, for the partridge shooting, and then I shall give him a piece of my mind, for although I like the boy, I don't hold with these casual manners."
Nancy did not accompany the two ladies, she preferred to take the dogs out, and as she was crossing the hall, Sutton approached her with a solemn face, bearing a note on the salver, and said, "I am very sorry, Miss Travers, but this note was given to me for you just a week ago. It happened at an awkward time, before dinner, the night of that big party. I put it inside the wine book, in my pantry, and forgot all about it until now; such an oversight has never happened to me before; but I hope you will excuse me, miss, knowing what a lot I had on my mind, and so many things to see to. I trust the note is of no consequence,—I see it was written in the house."
Yes—there on the flap of the envelope was "Newenham Court."
"Thank you, Sutton," said Nancy, "I expect it is all right," then turning over the note, she was startled to find that it was addressed to her in Mayne's handwriting. She tore it open, and read:
Thursday evening.
My dear Nancy,
It was very unfortunate, that our conversation this afternoon was interrupted, I should much like to have a talk. May I find you in the little book room immediately after dinner? I shall be there anyhow, about nine o'clock.
Yours always,
D. Mayne.
This was dreadful; not only had she failed to keep the rendezvous, but she had been absent the whole of the following night; and had not arrived home, until after his departure. Naturally, to him, the whole affair must present the blackest aspect. What would she do? what could she do? She felt almost distraught, as she wandered out into the garden, and walked up and down the long turf track, in much the same frame of mind, as that, which had kept Mayne afoot for a whole night.
She remembered the evening of the tournament—how he had never come near her, but, how she had caught his eyes watching her gravely, as she and Sir Dudley sang duets. She would write to him immediately, and give him a full account of her hateful adventure in Mrs. Bode's cottage, and she would ask him to arrange for them to have an immediate meeting. Her present position, was insupportable, the secret altogether too heavy a burden. She was not playing the game, in keeping such a page of her past from Mrs. De Wolfe, nor was it honourable to pass herself off, as a spinster, among the young men of her acquaintance. If Mayne had not returned home,—and at least if they had not come across one another,—matters might have remained in abeyance for years; but now that she knew him, and time had softened a far away tragedy, she realized that she loved him; yes, to herself, there was no use in thrusting away, or trying to evade the truth.
The question was, did he love her? Perhaps! probably! Yes, a girl has an intuition in these things; of course there was the money; that was still a rock of offence; but many men had married women with fortunes, and the marriages had not been unhappy!—Quite the contrary, by all accounts; and she could point out to him, that when they were married, he had been the rich partner, and she as poor as a church mouse. Partridge shooting would begin shortly, she would probably see him in a few days—meanwhile she would write. She sat for a long time mentally composing her letter. At last, she heard the motor return, and presently she rose to meet the two old ladies, who were coming towards her across the lawn.
"Well!" she exclaimed, "how did you find Mr. Mayne?"
"Oh, my dear," replied Mrs. De Wolfe, throwing up her hands, "I never saw him in such low spirits,—we really couldn't help feeling very sorry for him,—what do you think? Derek Mayne has gone back to India,—he left for Marseilles yesterday morning."
"Gone back to India," repeated Nancy, "but why? I heard he had got an extension of leave."
"Yes, but there is some trouble on the frontier, they say, and Derek is high up among the captains of his regiment, and I have always heard a very keen soldier; Mrs. Horne and I have put our heads together, and come to the conclusion that there's something more in his departure, than meets the eye.—Perhaps we shall all know some day? Well, anyway, Nancy, the news does not affect you, for somehow, you and Derek were never particularly friendly."
To this, Nancy made no answer, and if her old friend had not been engaged in returning the caresses of three dogs, she might have noticed that her young friend looked strangely pale.