“That’s all right,” said Eddy. “How do you do, Mrs. Rowland! It is very pretty, as Rose says, but I’m not a man for the picturesque myself. Oh, you’re going to walk? Excuse me, I’m not much of a walking man: I’ll go with the ladies, if it’s the same to you.”
“Certainly,” said Rowland amazed, but always with a certain exultation on Archie’s account. This an example for Archie! the boy was twice the man this fellow was. It is not good to rejoice in the disadvantages of other people, but he had been so sure, and professed his pleasure in it, that Saumarez’s son—a man in the best society—could be a model for Archie, that the satisfaction in finding him so shabby a little fellow was more than words could say. He did not need to be ashamed of his own boy in this company at least. Mr. Rowland started to walk, while the little man jumped into his place in the carriage, with a certain elation, as if somebody had given him something he acknowledged to himself.
“How jolly of you to come to meet us,” said Eddy, “country fashion. We were wondering, Rose and I, if there would be a dog-cart or something. Never expected this luxury. Rose, did you see after the luggage? I had no time to think of it—met a fellow who was with me at Eton—one of the great plucked, don’t you know—run all over the country in crowds at this time of the year.”
“Yes,” said Rosamond with her calm air, “he was plucked of course, Mrs. Rowland. I told you we could not come any sooner because of his exam. Of course I knew quite well how it would turn out, and so I told father. But there are some things that people will not believe. I never can see the good, for my part, of going in for exams. that you are sure not to pass.”
“Oh,” said Eddy, light-heartedly, “it is always something to do—keeps you from feeling that you’ve got no centre to your life, don’t you know. I like a sort of fixed point; if you don’t work up to it, of course that’s your fault, but all the same an object,—a fine thing. Don’t you agree with me, Miss Rowland?” said the young man, turning round a little to look into the face of his companion on the front seat, who had given up her place to Rosamond without any pleasure, and was now studying that young lady in every line of her costume, with something of the same sensation of mingled disappointment and relief which her father had experienced. Marion was accustomed now to all the subtleties of the toilette. She was more respectful of Rosamond’s grey gown than she had been of Evelyn’s travelling dress; but she perceived at a glance that from this visitor there would be little to learn.
“I don’t know what you mean by an object. I think most gentlemen’s object is to please themselves,” Marion said.
“That’s what you call epigrammatic, ain’t it,” said Eddy, “and severe.”
“Oh, I just say what I think,” said Marion. She had not had a young man given her to play with since the days of the students, who laughed at her saucy speeches, and said among themselves that Rowland’s sister was clever, much cleverer than he was; and the prospect was agreeable to her. Not that there was anything attractive in Eddy personally, but still he was of the kind of mouse to her cat—or cat to her mouse, as sometimes happens in that sort of exercise. They eyed each other with furtive glances, both aware of this probable relationship.
“Father has left Aix,” said Rosamond, “they have sent him to some other place which it is supposed may do him good. Of course so long as he has Rogers with him we know that he is well attended to. I hope we shall not stay too long and bore you, Mrs. Rowland. Would it be too much to say a month? I hope you will be so kind as to tell us if you want our rooms for other visitors, or get tired of us. Of course people always do in society, or it would be impossible to get on.”
“Yes, I promise, my dear, I shall tell you if I get tired of you,” said Evelyn.