The repast at an end, Gaston bent to his mistress’s ear and reminded her that the gate into the wood had been unlocked. She said, “Oh, yes! The bluebell wood! So pretty! These young people would like to wander through it, senora, while you and I repose ourselves a little.”
It would never have occurred to Lady Ombersley to suggest a siesta to a visitor, but since she invariably dozed during the afternoon she had no real fault to find with this program, and accompanied the Marquesa into the drawing room. Here she at first endeavored to engage the Marquesa in talk of her brother, but without much success. The Marquesa said, “It is not amusing to be a widow, and, besides, I prefer England to Spain, since it is now very impoverished there. But to be madrasta to Sophy! No, and a thousand times no!”
“We are all very fond of my dear niece,” said Lady Ombersley, bristling.
“I also, but she is too fatiguing. One does not know what next she will do, or, which is worse by far, what she will make one do that one does not wish at all.”
Lady Ombersley found herself quite unable to resist the temptation of indulging in a little gentle malice. “My dear ma’am, I am sure my niece could never persuade you to exert yourself in any way disagreeable to you!”
“But yes!” said the Marquesa simply. “It is plain that you do not know Sophy. To withstand her is much, much more fatiguing still!”
Meanwhile, the subject of this exchange was arranging a flower in Hubert’s buttonhole in the formal garden. Mr. Rivenhall had gone off in the direction of the stables, and the four others were wending their way through the shrubbery toward the bluebell wood, Mr. Fawnhope having been visited by inspiration which on the sight of Cecilia in the wood could, he said, bring to fruition. So far, he had only achieved one line of his poem, but he felt it to be promising. “ When amidst bluebells my Cecilia treads,” he murmured.
“Quite Carolinian!” remarked Miss Wraxton.
Mr. Fawnhope’s verse was at all times derivative, but he liked being told so no better than any other poet, so he took his Cecilia’s hand and would have led her away had not Miss Wraxton been on the alert to prevent just such a happening. With determination she stayed beside the lovers, and presently, by a happy reference to Cowper, succeeded in diverting Mr. Fawnhope’s attention from Cecilia to herself. Sir Vincent, finding solace for boredom in amusement at this situation, bided his time, and was presently rewarded. Cecilia, unable to bear a part in the elevated discussion in progress (for she was no great reader), began to drop behind. Sir Vincent fell in beside her, and in a very short space of time coaxed her out of her crossness, and, indeed, out of the wood as well. He said that profound as was his admiration for Miss Wraxton’s intellect he found her conversation oppressive. Woods and bluestockings, he said, exercised a lowering effect upon his spirits. He thought the ground was damp, certainly unfit walking for a delicately nurtured lady. He took Cecilia instead to inspect the dovecot, and since he was skilled in the art of flirtation, and she was lovely enough to make a little dalliance a pleasant way of whiling away a dull afternoon, they contrived to pass an agreeable hour together.
While all this was going on, Sophy was walking in the shrubbery with Hubert. She had not failed to notice that during the past few days he had swung between exaggeratedly high spirits and fits of black depression. She had mention the matter to Cecilia, but Cecilia had merely said that Hubert had always been moody and had not seemed to be inclined to think any more about it. But Sophy could not see anyone in the grip of care without instantly wishing to discover the cause, and, if possible, to rectify it. She thought she was now on good enough terms with him to venture to broach the matter to him, and so, it seemed, she was, for although he could not be said to confide in her, he did not, as she had been afraid he might, mount upon a high horse. Yes, he confessed, he was a trifle worried, it was no great matter, and he expected to have put it behind him in a very few days’ time.