I had known nothing of the effect of a woman’s presence in the house since I had been old enough to appreciate it; it was therefore a revelation to me to note how May Atherton glorified that dingy parlour in Camden Town. As she moved to and fro, making the tea-table in some nameless way a thousand times more attractive than the landlady knew how to do, my eyes followed her with a persistence which would have been embarrassing to her had she been troubled with the least degree of self-consciousness; but of all the women I have ever known, May Atherton was the most completely free from vanity and all the faults that accompany it. At present her thoughts were occupied solely with the pleasure of being in her brother’s society, and the desire to make things brighter for him and his friend, whom, for Gerald’s sake, she accepted as her friend also.
‘I really feel as if I knew you quite well, Mr Langham,’ she said, ‘for Gerald has spoken to me often of you; and I am so glad to feel that my boy has a good thoughtful friend, older than himself, to advise and help him.’
The motherly air with which May uttered the last words sat prettily if strangely on her extreme youth, and indeed between the pair of children there were a hundred touches of reciprocal tenderness and protection, which were very pleasant to look at, though they made me feel very lonely and a little envious. Not that I had any cause to feel neglected; for Gerald and his sister united in making much of me—he for my own sake, she for her brother’s sake. Only for your brother’s sake, were you so kind to me then, sweet May; afterwards, it was, I hope, for a more personal reason!
I could spend much time in describing that happy evening; but perhaps, repeated to less sympathetic ears, the wit might not seem so witty nor the wisdom so wise as they did to us. At last, however, May said with a sigh that she must go home; and Gerald proposed that I as well as he should escort her to the door of the ‘ogress’s castle.’
‘But you must not call Mrs Bowden an ogress,’ protested May, laying a hand upon her brother’s shoulder; ‘she is very kind to me. Was it not thoughtful of her to let me come and spend this evening with you, because I had mentioned a week ago that it was our birthday? She is always so much interested in what I say of you—and she likes to hear about you too, Mr Langham,’ added the girl, turning to me.
‘About me!’ I repeated. ‘How does she know of my existence?’
‘Oh, I have mentioned your name often, in speaking of Gerald and his friends, and she frequently questions me about you. I suppose she likes you for Gerald’s sake, and Gerald for mine.’
‘Don’t deceive yourself, mademoiselle,’ interrupted the irrepressible Gerald. ‘Her liking for you is the mere anticipation of the passion that will fill her when she sees me. She cares for you only as Olivia did for Viola before she saw Sebastian.’
How had the boy hit upon that comparison? I had conversely been thinking for three hours past that my liking for Sebastian had been the mere anticipation of my love for Viola!
At her brother’s words, May laughed and shook her head. ‘Don’t you deceive yourself, dear. There is no rival to “dear Henry” in Mrs Bowden’s heart.’