"A few minutes ago I thought you were nearly crying over it," said the mother with a smile, but Miss Wenna took no heed of the reproof. She would have Mr. Trelyon help himself to a tumbler of claret and water. She fetched out from some mysterious lodging-house recess an ornamented tin can of biscuits. She accused herself of being the dullest companion in the world, and indirectly hinted that he might have pity on her mamma and stay to luncheon with them.
"Well, it's very odd," he said, telling a lie with great simplicity of purpose, "but I had arranged to drive to the Land's End for luncheon—to the inn there, you know. I suppose it wouldn't—Do you think, Mrs. Rosewarne—would it be convenient for you to come for a drive so far?"
"Oh, it would be the very best thing in the world for her—nothing could be better," said Wenna; and then she added meekly, "if it is not giving you too much trouble, Mr. Trelyon."
He laughed: "Trouble! I'm glad to be of use to anybody; and in this case I shall have all the pleasure on my side. Well, I'm off now to see about the horses. If I come for you in half an hour, will that do?"
As soon as he had left Mrs. Rosewarne turned to her daughter and said to her, gravely enough, "Wenna, one has seldom to talk to you about the proprieties, but really this seems just a little doubtful. Mr. Trelyon may make a friend of you—that is all very well, for you are going to marry a friend of his—but you ought not to expect him to associate with me."
"Mother," said Wenna with hot cheeks, "I wonder how you can suspect him of thinking of such foolish and wicked things. Why, he is the very last man in all the world to do anything that is mean and unkind, or to think about it."
"My dear child, I suspect him of nothing," Mrs. Rosewarne said; "but look at the simple facts of the case. Mr. Trelyon is a very rich gentleman; his family is an old one, greatly honored about here; and if he is so recklessly kind as to offer his acquaintanceship to persons who are altogether in a different sphere of life, we should take care not to abuse his kindness or to let people have occasion to wonder at him. Looking at your marriage and future station, it is perhaps more permissible with you; but as regards myself, I don't very much care, Wenna, to have Mr. Trelyon coming about the house."
"Why, mother, I—I am surprised at you!" Wenna said warmly. "You judge of him by the contemptible things that other people might say of him. Do you think he would care for that? Mr. Trelyon is a man, and like a man he has the courage to choose such friends as he likes; and it is no more to him what money they have or what their position is than the—than the shape of their pocket-handkerchiefs is. Perhaps that is his folly, recklessness—the recklessness of a young man. Perhaps it is. I am not old enough to know how people alter, but I hope I shall never see Mr. Trelyon alter in this respect—never, if he were to live for a hundred years. And—and I am surprised to hear you, of all people, mother, suggest such things of him. What has he done that you should think so meanly of him?"
Wenna was very indignant and hurt. She would have continued further, but that a tremulous movement of her under lip caused her to turn away her head.
"Well, Wenna, you needn't cry about it," her mother said gently. "It is of no great consequence. Of course every one must please himself in choosing his friends; and I quite admit that Mr. Trelyon is not likely to be hindered by anything that any person may say. Don't take it so much to heart, child: go and get on your things, and get back some of the cheerfulness you had while he was here. I will say this for the young man, that he has an extraordinary power of raising your spirits."