Chapter Twenty.
Among the Roses.
By no one was the news of Gervase Vanburgh’s advent greeted with more enthusiasm than by Lilias herself, for, truth to tell, the day had seemed interminably long in the company of a depressed and anxious lover. The points of view from which Ned and herself regarded his position seemed to grow more hopelessly far apart the more it was discussed, and the consciousness that he was disappointed by her lack of sympathy did not tend to raise Lilias’s spirits. If the question at stake had not touched the all-important subject of future comfort, she would have been willing to sacrifice her own wishes in order to preserve Ned’s approval, but in this crisis of their fate she would allow no such weakness. If her own parents seemed to place Ned’s scruples before her interests, if Ned himself were so ignorant of what was due to his fiancée as to talk calmly of accepting the position of a clerk on a few hundreds a year, it behoved her to be firm, and make Ned understand that she would never be his wife until he could provide something more than the bare necessaries of life. Nevertheless, the task of opposition was far from pleasant, and the grave wonder of his glance cut like a knife into her vain little heart.
It was a relief to know that the presence of a stranger would prevent further reference to the subject for this evening at least, while the Vanburgh nephew and heir was in himself a sufficiently interesting person. Lilias put on her prettiest dress, and sat trifling with a book until the company had assembled in the drawing-room, and the time was ripe for an effective entrance, when she glided into the room, and smiled sweetly at the stranger, while Nan watched his face with mischievous enjoyment. He was surprised—there was no mistake about that! When Lilias raised her face to his, he gave a distinct little start of surprise, and the sleepy eyes looked for once quite wide-awake and animated.
“And the stupid fellow actually mistook me for her!” chuckled Nan to herself, with that pride in her sister’s beauty which the Rendell girls shared so loyally, looking upon it as a family possession which reflected credit on one and all. “That’s one mistake he will never make again, however much confused he may get among six sisters!”
Conversation at the dinner table was of a general character; but every now and then Nan found an opportunity of exchanging a few quiet remarks with Gervase Vanburgh, who sat next herself, the result of which was to assure her that she had found a character as diametrically different from her own as it was possible to imagine. She was full of energy, he was languid to the verge of apathy; she had hard and fast opinions to offer on every topic, known or unknown, while his “Don’t know!” and “Couldn’t say!” repeated themselves with wearisome echo. She was afire with ardour, with enthusiasm, with the burning desire to right all wrongs, redress all evils, bring peace on earth, and start the millennium without a moment’s delay; judging from appearances, he seemed incapable of any sort of emotion, and possessed with the conviction that nothing was really worth taking any trouble about.
Nan grew irritated beyond measure, wriggled about on her seat, shrugged her shoulders, and crumbled her bread, unconscious alike of her father’s smiles and her mother’s frowns, and, when actions failed to relieve her feelings, was forced into emphatic speech.
“Nothing interests you, nothing gives you pleasure! You care for nothing, you hope for nothing! I wouldn’t be like you for the whole wide world!” she declared; and Gervase Vanburgh fixed his melancholy eyes upon her, and said tragically—
“And I would give the whole wide world if I could once more care and hope like you!”
This was disconcerting. Nan had not expected so speedy a concession, and she followed her mother from the room oppressed by the remembrance of that melancholy look, and consumed with curiosity as to its cause. Money anxiety it could not be, seeing that Mr Vanburgh’s heir need never fear want; but a broken home, disappointed love, and faithless friendship held out wide avenues for speculation. Nan sat and pondered, listening meekly to her mother’s reproofs, while inside the dining-room Mr Rendell could not resist putting a home question to his visitor.