‘I know nothing about it. Sometimes at one hour, sometimes at another. And the surest way to bring about a collision is to take so much care to avoid one. As if there were not room for Gilbert and him in the house without dodging in that stupid way!’
‘That’s all very fine, but accidents will happen. Suppose they were to meet, after all, and have a shindy.’
‘A shindy! Really, Otho, you exasperate me. In the first place, though you might, and probably would, make a shindy under such circumstances, you ought to know that they would never make one under any circumstances. And if they wished to, ever so, would they dare, before me?’
‘Whew—w!’ murmured Otho, under his breath; and then aloud—
‘It seems as if all I said offended you this morning, Magdalen. However, I’ll be more good-natured than you, and say thank you for your advice, which I shall follow. I must be off now.’
He got up and stood before her, holding out his hand. Magdalen surveyed him in the same cold, direct manner, as before. It was her old calm, almost expressionless gaze, but the eyes which had once been soft and velvety were now hard. She said good morning to him in a very indifferent way, and rang the bell. Otho left the room and went downstairs.
His inventive genius was apparently not great. He carried out her advice or instructions, whichever it might have been, almost to the letter. Without waiting to go to the works, he first of all called in at Thorsgarth, and while his horse waited, sat down and wrote a short letter to his sister, saying that he would meet her at the station if she would let him know by what train to expect her; that he was sorry to say he was quite too much engaged to travel down to the New Forest to bring her to Thorsgarth. He was afraid she would find Bradstane insufferably dull after the social life to which she had been accustomed. With regard to the parson, he added, with characteristic want of finish in his style, he thought it a pity that she had not seen her way to taking him, as the match seemed in every way a good one, but he could hear all about that when they met, and so he was her affectionate brother, Otho Askam.
Then he rang the bell and desired to see the housekeeper; and when she arrived upon the scene, he gave his orders with the brevity and authority of a great general, and of course Mrs. Sparkes could not know that the said orders had originated with Magdalen Wynter. It was decided that some south rooms—‘the late Mrs. Askam’s suite,’ said Mrs. Sparkes—were to be prepared for Eleanor.
‘Yes,’ said Otho, with an uneasy feeling that, since he proposed to leave his sister considerably to her own society, it behoved him to look to her personal comfort as much as possible. ‘And see that they are made nice—aired, you know, and to look—a—bright, and all that.’
‘Oh, sir, the rooms will not need much doing to them. It’s not my system to be taken by surprise,’ said Mrs. Sparkes, with a lofty smile.