“I hope you know Ralph at least. Mary Hill! You told me this moment you would do anything—but the moment I name the one thing, the only thing I ask of you——”
Mary wrung her hands but turned away and went downstairs. She had never been used to resist when anything was asked of her. It had been her part in the world always to do what was insisted upon, what it was necessary to do. She went downstairs, almost counting the steps in her reluctance, hoping that Letitia might relent and call her back, yet knowing very well that nothing would make Letitia relent. After her conversation this morning with Ralph to go back as it seemed voluntarily into the room where he was, to go as he would think on purpose to have a last word with him was intolerable to her. Her natural modesty and reticence was intensified by the primness, old maidenly scruples which had come upon her with the advancing years and made her pride more sensitive and her fear of compromising herself more great. And before Lord Frogmore, who would think—what might he not think? Poor Mary went slowly across the hall. Oh, if Letitia only knew what it was to put such a commission upon her—but Letitia had such different ways of thinking—Letitia might perhaps have found it no trial at all.
When Mary went into the dining-room where Ralph was making an excellent meal, and telling stories of the bush which delighted his little audience, her color was heightened, her dove’s eyes were clear and humid, almost with tears in them. She had seldom in her life looked so well, though of this she was quite unconscious. Her great reluctance gave her an air of dignity as well as that of duty painfully fulfilled. She went in very slowly, holding her head higher than usual, though it was a sense of humiliation and not pride that so moved her. Lord Frogmore had been persuaded to join the bushman in his luncheon, having evidently been assured that this was the luncheon of the house, Letitia not being well enough to be out of her room. Ralph was seated at his meal with his mouth full, talking as he munched, and praising the excellent cold beef as he talked. Cold beef for Lord Frogmore! Saunders indeed had endeavored to interfere, to explain that the family lunch was an hour later, that this was only for Mr. Ravelstone because of his train, and that to set cold beef before the distinguished guest was the last thing in the world that would have been contemplated. But Lord Frogmore had paid no attention, and sat quite pleased, mincing his cold beef into small morsels, and laughing at Ralph’s stories. Little Duke had clambered up upon his high chair and sat between the two men, turning his small head from one to another as they talked with great attention, with the precocious civility of a host paying solemn attention to his guests. Duke did not laugh at the Australian’s jokes because he did not understand them, but he gazed at Lord Frogmore who did, and looked from one to another with a curious consciousness of the inferiority of those mysteriously excited persons who gesticulated and declaimed and laughed and applauded to his own small gravity and dignity, something like that which we can imagine rising in the consciousness of an intelligent animal at sight of human eccentricities. Duke thought it very funny that they should laugh so much. What was there to laugh about? Ralph sprang up from the table, making a great noise, and with his knife and fork in his hands, when Mary appeared. “Hallo!” he cried. “Here we have begun like a couple of ill-bred pigs without thinking of Miss Hill. A plate and napkin for Miss Hill, and look sharp you there! What can you think of us to begin without you? I give you my word I never gave it a thought.”
“Please sit down,” said Mary. “I want nothing. I only came—that is Letitia sent me—to see that you had everything you want. To see that there was a proper lunch——”
“Letitia’s very kind, but she might have come herself. There’s excellent cold beef—isn’t it excellent, my Lord Frogmore? They think it’s not good enough for you, evidently, but it’s plenty good enough for me. I prefer it to all the kickshaws in the world. Sit down and try a bit, Mary, it’ll do you good.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Mary, drawing nervously away. “Duke, you are to go upstairs to your mother. Oh please don’t disturb yourself. I would rather not sit down, please. Letitia was afraid that you were not served in time—that you might be kept too late for your train.”
“Letitia’s very anxious about my train,” cried Ralph, with a big laugh, but he caught Mary’s alarmed look at Saunders, who stood very demurely behind Lord Frogmore with his ears wide open to everything. Saunders scented a mystery, and was very anxious to fathom it. He scented something much more mysterious, as was natural, than anything that existed. “But sit down, Mary, and join the festive board,” continued the bushman, “a meal’s twice a meal when there’s a lady present. Don’t you think so, Lord Frogmore?”
Lord Frogmore had risen up with old-fashioned courtesy when he saw Mary, and stood without taking any part in the invitation, awaiting what she intended to do, with his hand on the back of his chair. Lord Frogmore, as ill-fortune would have it, was seeing the house of the Parkes, which was indeed the most orderly and well-governed of houses, in the strangest light—a light that was not at all a true one, though he had no means of knowing it. The wild, bearded brother from the backwoods, the gentle, somewhat prim dependent lady puzzled him very much. Miss Hill he thought a much pleasanter type of woman than his sister-in-law, but who was she? Probably the governess; but then the governess would not be on such familiar terms with the brother. The old gentleman stood with true civility, doing nothing to increase the embarrassment of the poor lady, poor thing, who did not know what to do.
“The dog-cart, sir, is at the door,” said Saunders, solemnly, “and if I might make so bold, there is just twenty minutes to get the train.”
Ralph put down his knife and fork. “I should have liked another bit of that nice cold beef,” he said; “but since you’re all in such a hurry—— Little ’un, you can go and tell your mother I’m off. It’ll be a satisfaction to her. And, Mary, don’t forget what I said.”