Neighbours on the Green

by Mrs. Oliphant

I had not the heart to say a word. I went home, and changed that wretched evening dress which I had worn all through the night. It was a comfort to throw it off and cast it away from me; and I never wore it again; the very sight of it made me ill ever after. I found Ada almost in high spirits with the strength of her determination and certainty that she was going to redeem her husband and make all right, when I went back. Just before noon however, when she was putting on her bonnet to start, a carriage swept up to the door. I was at the window of the dining-room when it came in sight, waiting for the brougham to convey us to the station. And the rector and his wife were coming up the avenue with ‘kind inquiries,’ in full belief that old Mrs. Gresham was dying, and that the house was ‘in affliction.’ No wonder they started and stared at the sight. It was old Mrs. Gresham herself, in her pink ribbons, fresh and full and splendid, in robust health, and all the colours of the rainbow, who came dashing up with her stately bays, to the door.

I had only time to realize that all our little attempts to keep up appearances were destroyed for ever when the old people came in; for Harry’s father had come too, though no one ever noticed him in presence of his wife. Mrs. Gresham came in smiling and gracious, in her usual affable and rather overwhelming way. She would have dismissed me majestically before she went to her daughter-in-law, but I was in reality too obtuse, by reason of fatigue and excitement, to understand what she meant. When she went to Ada the old man remained with me. He was not an attractive old man, and I had scarcely spoken to him before. He walked about the room looking at everything, while I sat by the window. If he had been an auctioneer valuing the furniture, he could not have been more particular in his investigations. He examined the handsome oak furniture, which was the envy of the Green, the immense mirrors, the great china vases, the pictures on the walls, as if making a mental calculation. Then he came and stood by me, and began to talk. ‘In my time young people were not so extravagant,’ he said. ‘There are thousands of pounds, I believe, sunk in this house.’

‘Mr. Gresham had a great deal of taste,’ I said faltering.

‘Taste! Nonsense. You mean waste,’ said the old man, sitting down astride on a carved chair, and looking at me across the back of it. ‘But I admit the things have their value—they’ll sell. Of course you know Harry has got into a mess?’ he went on. ‘Women think they can hush up these things; but that’s impossible. He has behaved like an idiot, and he must take the consequences. Fortunately the family is provided for. Her friends need not be concerned in that respect.’

‘I am very glad,’ said I, as it was necessary to say something.

‘So am I,’ said old Mr. Gresham. ‘I suppose they would have come upon me if that had not been the case. It’s a bad business; but it is not so bad as it might have been. I can’t make out how a son of mine should have been such an ass. But they all go so fast in these days. I suppose you had a very grand ball last night? A ball!’ he repeated, with a sort of snort. I don’t know if there was any fatherly feeling at all in the man, but if there was he hid it under this mask of harshness and contempt.

‘Will not Mr. Gresham return?’ I asked foolishly; but my mind was too much worn out to have full control of what I said.

The old man gave a shrug, and glanced at me with a mixture of scorn and suspicion. ‘I can’t say what may happen in the future,’ he said dryly. ‘I should advise him not. But Ada can live where she likes—and she will not be badly off.’

Old Mrs. Gresham stayed a long time up-stairs with her daughter-in-law; so long that my patience almost deserted me. Mr. Gresham went off, after sitting silent opposite to me for some time, to look over the house, which was a relief; and no doubt I might have gone too, for we were far too late for the train. But I was too anxious to go away. When the two came down the old lady was just as cheerful and overwhelming as usual, though poor Ada was deadly pale. Mrs. Gresham came in with her rich, bustling, prosperous look, and shook hands with me over again. ‘I am sure I beg your pardon,’ she said; ‘I had so much to say to Ada. We have not met for a whole month; and poor child, they gave her such a fright last night. My dear, don’t you mean to give us some luncheon? Grandpapa never takes lunch; you need not wait for him, but I am quite hungry after my long drive.’

Then poor Ada rose and rang the bell; she was trembling so that she tottered as she moved. I saw that her lips were dry, and she could scarcely speak. She gave her orders so indistinctly that the man could not hear her. ‘Luncheon!’ cried the old lady in her imperious way. ‘Can’t you hear what Mrs. Gresham says? Lunch directly—and tell my people to be at the door in an hour. Ada, a man who stared in my face like that, and pretended not to understand, should not stay another day in my house; you are a great deal too easy. So your ball was interrupted last night, Mrs. Mulgrave,’ she went on with a laugh, ‘and the blame laid on me. Oh, those boys! I hope the good people hereabouts will not take offence. I will never forgive them, though, for giving Ada such a fright, poor child. She thought I was dying, I suppose; and it was only one of Gerald’s sporting scrapes. Some horse was being tampered with, and he would have lost thousands if they had not rushed off; so they made out I was dying, the wretched boys. Ha, ha! I don’t look much like dying to-day.’