Volume Three—Chapter One.
Richard Begins to Woo.
The vicar’s visits to the Big House became fewer, for he could not but see that Richard Glaire, in spite of all that had passed, was more and more embittered against him. He was very quiet, and ceased to be insulting, but there was a malicious look in his eye, an ill-concealed air of jealousy in his glance, whenever the vicar spoke to Eve, that told of his feelings. In fact, Richard vowed that the lesson was chosen because he went to church that day, and if ever opportunity served he would be revenged.
Opportunity was serving him, for, like Mrs Glaire, he saw but too plainly what the vicar’s feelings were towards Eve—feelings that made him grind his teeth whenever they were together, and which finally brought on a fresh quarrel with his mother.
It was one morning when Mrs Glaire had been appealing to him to reopen the works.
“Not yet,” he said. “I should have done it before now if they hadn’t been such beastly cowards. I’ll give ’em a good lesson this time.”
“But you are losing heavily, Richard,” said Mrs Glaire.
“Yes,” he said, maliciously. “I like to lose heavily when I can get my money’s worth; and I’m punishing them, so I don’t care.”
“But, do you know, that if your conduct does not alter, you’ll lose something for which you will never forgive yourself?”
“What’s that?” he said, eagerly.
“Your cousin.”
He caught his mother sharply by the wrist, and looked her full in the face.
“You’ve been plotting for this, mother?”
“Indeed, no, my son.”
“Do you want me to marry Eve?”
“You know I do.”
“Then why do you encourage that cursed prig of a parson here?”
“Because he has shown himself a good friend to me and mine.”
“Bah!” said Richard. “I won’t have it. He shall come no more. Look here, mother; you don’t believe that I’ve got Daisy Banks away.”
“No, Richard, I never have believed it,” said Mrs Glaire, meeting his eye, and responding without hesitation.
“Well, look here, then, I tell you what. I’m going to quiet down.”
“Dick, my own brave boy,” cried Mrs Glaire, hysterically, as she threw her arms round his neck.
“There, don’t be stupid,” he said, carelessly repulsing her, after she had kissed him passionately. “I was going to say I’m sick of all this cursed worry, and I shall open the works soon.”
“Yes, my dear boy, yes.”
“And suppose, to settle all this rumour about Daisy Banks, I marry Eve?”
“My darling boy,” sobbed Mrs Glaire; “it is the wish of my life. You make me so happy.”
“There, don’t, mother; how can I talk to you if you keep pawing me about like that? Look here, you’re making my face all wet.”
“Yes, yes, my dear boy, it’s very foolish, and I’ll control myself.”
“There, look at them,” said Richard, in a low whisper, as he pointed out of the window, to where Eve and the vicar were walking together on the lawn. “Do you see that, mother?”
“Yes,” said Mrs Glaire, uneasily.
“Do you know he’s making up to Eve?”
He looked at her searchingly.
“I cannot help thinking that he admires her, Richard; but I am sure Eve thinks of no one but you.”
“Then curse him, he shall see me marry her,” said Richard, eagerly. “You want it to be, mother, and it shall be—soon. Eve won’t mind, and you’ll settle it all with her, and then I’m not going to have him here any more.”
“Don’t talk like that, my boy,” said Mrs Glaire; “but I do think it would be for your happiness if you were married.”
As she spoke, the question seemed to be asked her—Was it for Eve’s good? and a cold, chilly feeling of misery came over her, as she felt that she was destroying the young life of the girl who had been to her almost more than a daughter.
“That’s settled then, is it, mother?” said Richard, lightly.
“Yes, my boy, indeed yes,” said Mrs Glaire, throwing off her momentary feeling of depression, and telling herself that it was for the best, and that so good a wife should be the saving of her son. Besides, it was for this that she had been working, and now that there was to be the fruition of her hopes, she felt that she must not hang back.
Richard was already out on the lawn, going up to where the vicar and Eve were talking about flowers, and it galled the young man to see the bright happy look pass away as he approached, and not come back.
The vicar spoke pleasantly to Richard, but the replies were monosyllables, and an awkward pause was ended by the coming of Mrs Glaire, who soon after returned into the house with their visitor, while Richard led his cousin down to the bottom of the garden, and, to her surprise, asked her to sit down.
“Look here, Eve,” he said, shortly, “I’ve been talking to the old lady about our being married.”
“Our being married, Richard?” said Eve, turning pale and starting.
“Yes, our being married,” he said, sharply. “What are you starting for, you little goose? Any one would think it was something new.”
“It came upon me like a surprise,” said Eve, catching her breath, and speaking quickly. “I did not expect it.”
“Gammon!” said the young man, coarsely. “Why, you’ve been expecting it for months.”
“Indeed no, Richard,” she said, eagerly.
“Then you ought to have been,” he continued. “You know the old girl wishes it.”
“Yes, Richard,” she faltered, with her forehead becoming rugged, and her lower lip quivering, “I know that.”
“Well, we’ve talked it over, and she thinks like I do, that if we’re married it will settle all this rubbish about Daisy Banks.”
“Oh, Richard! Richard!” she cried, pitifully; and she rose to run away, but he caught her wrist, and forced her back into the seat.
“Don’t be a little stupid,” he said. “Why, that was only a silly flirtation, and I don’t care a sou for the girl.”
“Let me go in, Richard, please,” she sobbed.
“Not till I’ve done,” he said, with a half laugh. “Look here, Eve, dear; you are not such a little silly as to think that I know where Daisy is, or that I took her away?”
“Tell me, on your word of honour, Richard, that you don’t know where she is,” said Eve, simply, “and I shall believe you.”
“’Pon my word of honour, I don’t know where she is; and I didn’t take her away; and I didn’t send her away; and I don’t care a fig where she is, and if I never see her again.”
“Richard!”
“There now, are you satisfied?” he cried.
“I believe you, Richard,” she said, ceasing to resist, but sitting back in the garden seat, and looking dreamily away.
“That’s all right, then,” he said. “Well, then, now we can talk about when the wedding is to be.”
“No, no, Richard; not now, not now,” she cried piteously, as she strove once more to get away.
“But we will, though,” said the young man, flushing at her resistance. “It’s all been settled long enough that you were to be my wife, so let’s have none of your ‘not nows,’ miss.”
“Let me go into the house, please, Richard,” said Eve, coldly.
“Yes, my dear, when we’ve settled the wedding-day,” said Richard.
“We cannot settle that now, Richard,” said Eve.
“And why not, pray?”
“Because,” she said, with her heart beating and her voice faltering, “I cannot forget for certainly a year or two, that which has taken place during the past few weeks.”
“What?” he shouted.
“I think you understand me, Richard,” said the girl, quietly, and making no effort now to free the wrist he so tightly held.
“Yes,” he said, flushing with passion, “I do understand. You wish to throw me over because you have been angling for and catching that cursed intriguing parson.”
“Richard!” cried Eve, turning red and stamping her foot upon the ground, “I will not stop and listen to such language.”
“And in a passion, too,” he said, mockingly, “because her favourite is spoken of; but it won’t do, madam. You’re promised to me, and I wish the wedding to take place as soon as it can. Don’t you think I’m going to let that beggarly meddling priest come between us.”
“This is as cowardly as it is unjustifiable, Richard,” exclaimed Eve.
“Is it?” he retorted. “Don’t you think I’m blind. I’ve seen your soft looks at him; and, curse him, if he comes here again I’ll strangle him—an insidious crafty Jesuit. But don’t you think me such a child as to believe I’m to be treated like this.”
“You are hurting my wrist, Richard,” said Eve, coldly, and speaking firmly now, for as her cousin began to bluster she grew calm.
“Hang your wrist,” he said angrily; “my hands are not so tender as the parson’s, I suppose.”
“Richard,” she said, with her voice trembling as she spoke, “Mr Selwood has always been to me as a gentlemanly, very kind friend, and to you the best of friends.”
“Damn his friendship,” said Richard, looking ugly in his wrath. “He’s my enemy, and always has been, and he’s trying to win you away. Ah! I know what it means: I’m to be thrown over, and you take up with him.”
“Richard, this is as coarse as it is cruel and unjust,” cried Eve, now regularly roused; “and I will not submit to it. Mr Selwood is nothing to me but a friend.”
“Indeed!” said Richard, with a sneer; “then pray what may this great change mean?”
“Mean!” she cried, scornfully; and Richard’s eyes lit up, for he thought he had never seen her look so attractive before, “it means that you have cruelly outraged my feelings by your wickedness and deceit.”
“My deceit!” he cried.
“Yes,” she said, with contempt: “have you forgotten what I saw that evening in Ranby Wood? Have you forgotten the past year’s neglect and contemptuous indifference to all my affection? Shame on you, Richard; shame! You ask me to be your wife, and tell me I am promised to you. I am; but you have broken the ties, and if I could forgive you, it must be years hence, when I have learned the truth of your sorrow for what is past.”
Before he could recover from his surprise, she had snatched away her hand to run, frightened and sobbing, to her own room, where she threw herself upon her knees, to weep and bewail her wickedness, for she was beginning to feel that there was some truth in her cousin’s words, and that she had committed a sin, for whose enormity there could be no pardon.
“What is to become of me?” she wailed in her misery, as she went to her dressing-table, and started back in affright at her hot, flushed face. “Oh, is it true that I have behaved as he says, and can Mr Selwood have seen my boldness?”
She sank into a chair to cover her face with her hands, but only to start and utter a faint cry as she felt them drawn away, and saw that Mrs Glaire was looking eagerly down upon her flushed and fevered cheeks.