“Miss Stainforth is a very charming young lady,” said Sir Gus, still as grave as ever, “but I thought that she——” here he stopped in some confusion, having nearly committed himself, he felt.
“I know what you were going to say,” said Ada, with a laugh. “You think she had a fancy for Paul too. She might just as well have had a fancy for the moon. The Markhams would never have permitted that; and as for Paul himself, he thought no more of Dolly——! Fancy, Dolly! but my brother does. It is a pity, a great pity, don’t you think, that brothers and sisters can’t change places sometimes? George would have made a much better young lady than I do. I am much too outspoken and candid for a girl, but I should never have fallen in love with Dolly Stainforth. If mamma could change us now, it would be some consolation to her still.”
“Miss Stainforth is a very charming young lady,” Sir Gus said again.
“A—ah!” said Ada, with a malicious laugh, “you admire Dolly too, Sir Augustus? I beg a thousand pardons. I ought to have been more cautious. But I never thought that a man who had seen the world, a man of judgment, a person with experience and discrimination——”
“You think too favourably of me,” said Sir Gus. “It is true I have come over a great part of the world; but I don’t know that of itself that gives one much experience. You think too favourably of me.”
“That is a fault,” said Ada, “which most men pardon very easily,” and she looked at him in a way that was flattering, Gus felt, but a little alarming too.
This conversation too had its effect upon him. He felt that there was no time to lose in making up his mind. If he was to secure for himself a companion before the winter came on, it would be well not to lose any time. And Miss Westland was very flattering and agreeable; she seemed to have a very high opinion of him. Gus did not feel that she was the woman he would like to marry; but if by any chance it might happen that she was a woman who would like to marry him, he did not feel that she would be very easy to resist. That such a woman might possibly wish to marry him was of itself very flattering; still on the whole, Gus felt that he would prefer to choose rather than to be chosen. And with a shrewd sense of the difficulties of his position, he decided that to have another young lady betrothed to him would be by far his best safeguard against Ada. A woman who belonged to him would stand up for him; and the mere fact that he belonged to her would be an effectual defence. As it happened, fortune favoured him. Mrs. Booth, who had come with Dolly in her little carriage to the Towers, wanted to get back early, as the evening was so fine, and Dolly declared that there was nothing she would like so much as to walk. There would certainly be somebody going her way to bear her company. Then Sir Gus stepped forward and said he would certainly be going her way, and would walk with her to the Rectory gate. Dolly smiled upon him so gratefully when he said this that his heart stirred in Gus’s bosom. She kept near him all the rest of the time, coming up to him now and then to see if he was ready, if he wished to go, with much filial attention; but Gus did not think of it in that light. Nor did he think that it was by way of getting rid of George Westland that she devoted herself to him. This is not an idea which naturally suggests itself to a man who has never had any reason to think badly of himself. Gus had always, on the contrary, entertained a very good opinion of himself; he had known that, on the whole, he deserved that mankind in general should entertain a good opinion of him, and there was nothing at all out of the way, or even unexpected in the fact that Dolly should be pleased by his care of her, and attracted towards himself. It was a thing which was very natural and delightful, and pleased him greatly. When the company began to disperse, he was quite ready to obey Dolly’s indication of a wish to go, and to take leave of Lady Westland when her son was out of the way, according to the girl’s desire. They set out upon the dusty road together in the grateful cool of the summer evening, carriage after carriage rolling past them, with many nods and wreathed smiles from the occupants, and no doubt many remarks also upon Dolly’s cavalier. But the pair themselves took it very tranquilly. They went slowly along, lingering on the grassy margin of the road to escape the dust, and enjoying the coolness and the quiet.
“How sweet it is,” Dolly said, “after the heat of the day.”
“You call that hot, Miss Dolly?” said Gus. “We should not call it hot where I come from.”
“Well, I am glad I have nothing to do with the tropics,” Dolly said. “I like the cool evening better than the day. One can move now—one can walk; but I suppose you never can do anything there in the heat of the day?”