“And I sincerely hope it won't be the last,” he replied with grave irony. And as a young man drew nigh to take his leave of Ella, he bowed and turned away with a saturnine sense of a victory after which there would be no rubbing of shins. But Ella, although she smiled sweetly on the young man, felt that she had been foolish in wantonly exposing herself to Sylvester's cold mockery, and the brightness of her evening suffered a miserable eclipse. It was only when Sir Decimus Bland came up and talked Colony with ponderous patronage, and elevated her to the dignity of high-priestess of the undefined cult of the Higher Art, that she regained her self-respect and looked more serenely on the universe.
CHAPTER XI—UNREST
It was late October. People were beginning to return to London, and among the early arrivals was Lady Milmo, who had been longing to escape from the discomforts of foreign hotels and English country-houses to her own familiar surroundings in Pont Street. With her came Ella, who was anxious to resume the work of the Colony. She had spent the latter part of July and August in Ayresford.
It had been a time of rest and quiet happiness, for she loved the old man in a wistful, daughterly way; yet, in spite of his tender courtesy, she had divined in him the same antagonism to Roderick as she had discovered in Sylvester, and this had put a constraint in their relations which had never before existed. The engagement was seldom referred to, and though the girl's cheek flushed with pleasure at Roderick's morning letter, yet during the rest of the day she was happier when he was not vivid in her thoughts.
At first it had been arranged that Roderick should pay a long-promised visit to his father at the same time. But when it came to the point of making definite arrangements, he had found his presence, in the interests of the Colony, essential elsewhere. As a matter of fact, the elder Usher jarred upon his son's more refined susceptibilities. His personal acquaintance with Ella was sufficiently annoying to Roderick; but to sit by in silent apology, while she was being overspread with unctuous and paternal platitudes, was an ordeal too exasperating to face. So following as usual the line of least resistance, he had accepted one or two pleasant and profitable invitations. His non-appearance, though she credited herself with a feeling of disappointment, was a relief to Ella. She had passed lately through many conflicting emotions, and she needed solitude, a period of moral repose, wherein to realise both herself and circumstances. For a proud girl does not surrender to a man almost against her will, without striving in her heart to account it to herself as a victory. The fact of the strained relations between Matthew and Usher, of which Miss Agatha Lanyon informed her, also mitigated her regret. They were at daggers drawn, did not even salute each other in the street. Roderick's absence avoided a grotesque Montague and Capulet situation. It further saved her from much personal intercourse with Usher, for whom she entertained no very high opinion. Once, however, she dined with him ceremoniously. He talked in his reiterative way of the comfort a daughter would be to his old age, and represented himself as the most generous and indulgent of parents. He alluded to Matthew more in sorrow than in anger. A man with whom he had been in intimate bonds of friendship for forty years to throw him over at the last! It was grievous; it was ageing him rapidly. He was always a faithful friend. It was his disposition. The saint leered at her out of his red-rimmed eyes, and Ella felt a shiver of repulsion which lasted till the next morning, when a fervid epistle from Roderick restored her serenity.
“I can't make out why Matthew and Mr. Usher have quarrelled,” said Miss Lanyon during the day.
“And I wonder why they haven't quarrelled for forty years,” returned Ella. “Oh, don't look shocked, auntie. It is no reason for me to adore a man because I am engaged to his son!”
Thenceforward she became a violent though silent partisan of Matthew in his dispute. There must have been serious grounds for such a quarrel; Matthew could do no wrong; therefore Usher must have treated him shamefully. The syllogism was perfectly conclusive. This feeling and a growing anxiety as to the old man's health did much to lessen the constraint between them. For he was constantly ailing, and was not the man she had seen fifteen months before. She left him with great reluctance, in spite of the glowing impatience of Roderick, with whom she was to spend some weeks as the guest of Sir Decimus Bland.