What had he done? His dislike of Lassigny as a husband for Beatrix had been merely instinctive. If Lassigny had pressed his suit, even without satisfying him that he was not what he seemed to him to be, he could scarcely have held out. There would have been no grounds for his rejection of him that his world could have seen; and he was influenced by the opinion of his world, and, if it had been a question of any one but his own daughter, would most likely have shared it. Even now, in his greatly softened moods towards her, he would almost have welcomed a state of things in which she would not quite be cut off from hope. Perhaps it would have turned out all right. She was sweet enough to keep any man devoted to her. Her own love was pure enough, even if it was at the stage at which it hardly represented more than physical attraction; and she had a right to her own desires; he could not exercise his parental veto in the last resort on any but very definite grounds, such as could hardly be said to exist here. If only he could have given her what she wanted, and made her happy again, and loving towards himself, it would have lifted a great and increasing trouble from him! The present state of feeling between him and his dearly loved child seemed as if it might part them permanently. He could not look forward to that without a desperate sinking of heart.
But what could he do? It did, after all, come down, as he had said, to the fact that he had not actually sent Lassigny away. Lassigny had withdrawn his suit. That was the leading factor in the situation.
He went to find Beatrix. He wanted to put this to her, once more, with all the affection that he felt towards her, and to reason with her still further, but not in the same spirit as just now. And he wanted still more to make it up with her. She was beginning to wear him down. She could do without him, but he couldn't do without her.
But Beatrix had gone out, to talk to Mollie Walter, and when she came in again, at tea-time, and brought Mollie with her, she kissed him, and was rather brighter than she had been. There was a great lift in his spirits, and although she did not respond to any appreciable extent to his further affectionate approaches and the gleam of sunshine faded again, he thought he had better let her alone. Perhaps she was beginning to get over it, and the clouds would break again, and finally roll away altogether.
CHAPTER XVII
BUNTING TAKES ADVICE
Jimmy Beckley had come over to spend the day at Abington. He had brought his sister Vera with him, not altogether without protest. The Grafton girls, he had explained to her, were always jolly pleased to see him, and he got on well with all of them; in fact they were topping girls, and he didn't yet know which of the three he liked best. If he went over alone he could take his pick, but if she went over with him, one, or perhaps two of them, would have to do the polite to her. He betted that they'd rather have him without her. Vera, however, had said that he was a conceited little monkey, and she was coming. So he had made the best of it, and being of less adamantine stuff than he liked to represent himself, he had driven her over in a pony cart, instead of riding, as he would have done if he had gone alone.
Grafton was in London for the day. Caroline and Vera wanted to talk together, and the other four played lawn tennis. But after a couple of sets Beatrix said it was too hot to play any more and went indoors. Jimmy looked after her with regret. For the moment he judged her to be the most attractive of all the Grafton girls, and had invented some amusing things to say to her. It seemed a pity to waste them on Barbara. He liked her, and she and he and Bunting had had a good deal of fun together at one time or another. But it had been boy's fun, in which she had naturally taken a subordinate part, as became one of her sex. She was hardly old enough to awaken a more tender emotion in his breast. He was beginning to feel that towards Caroline and Beatrix both, but was not yet sure which of them he should choose when he came to man's estate. Beatrix was the prettier of the two, but they were both very pretty, and Caroline responded rather more to his advances.
Barbara suggested a tournament between the three of them, but the boys didn't care about that, nor for a three-handed set. Eventually, after a short rest, and some agreeable conversation, Barbara found herself shelved, she did not quite know how, and Jimmy and Bunting went off to the gooseberry bushes; not without advice from Barbara not to make little pigs of themselves.