CHAPTER III.

_FAREWELLS AND GREETINGS._

"Oh, Miss Odeyne--I beg your pardon, I mean Mrs. St. Claire, but it seems as if my tongue would never learn the new name rightly--I've got a favour to ask of you that I've been longing all the time to talk to you about, and now the time's come it seems as if I didn't know how to say it rightly."

"Why, Alice, have you turned shy all in a moment, or do you think I have changed in a few weeks?" and Odeyne glanced at the girl's downcast face with an encouraging smile. "Well, you shall have your wish, and brush out my hair for me, and you can talk to me as you do it, and let me hear what this wonderful favour is."

Alice Hanbury was a pretty, neat-fingered damsel, who had been all her life more or less at the Rectory, and had received her training for domestic service under the kindly eye of the mistress. She had of late years been employed chiefly in the capacity of sewing maid, on account of her deftness with her fingers and love for her needle, and it had been said from time to time in the family that Alice ought to be a lady's maid, she had so much taste and cleverness in all the details of the toilet. For the past year or more she had attached herself especially to Odeyne, and it was her great delight to be permitted to dress the girl's abundant hair, or to array her for any simple festivity to which she might be going. So it had not surprised Odeyne on this particular occasion that Alice should follow her to her room to ask leave to assist her to dress for dinner, and she had willingly consented, for her month of wifehood had not damped in the smallest her interest in every detail connected with the old life, and to that old life the maid entirely belonged.

This unexpected visit to the old home on the conclusion of the wedding tour had come as a delightful surprise to Odeyne--a surprise planned by her husband, and valued tenfold as proof of the tender love he bore her. It had been arranged between Desmond and her parents without her knowledge, and only when the train was approaching the well-known country had she suspected his purpose, or understood the merry, mischievous glances and speeches which had been perplexing her all day. And now, after a week of unalloyed happiness, the last evening had once more come; but Odeyne was not sad to-night, for Desmond was now her husband, and there was no room in her faithful heart for anything but the truest love and confidence.

"Well, Alice, I am waiting to hear what this wonderful favour can be. You may be quite sure I will do anything for you that I can." And there was a pleasant consciousness now in the girl's mind that she had the power to do a good deal for her old friends or dependents. A month's experience of life as a rich man's wife had not been lost upon her. It could not help being a pleasant experience, and just now everything was tinged with a golden halo.

"Oh, miss--I mean ma'am--if you would only take me away with you to-morrow! I could be quite ready, indeed I could, and I have so set my heart upon it. They all say you must have a maid to wait upon you in your grand new house, and though I may not be so fine as some you could get, I know your ways, and no new maid would serve you as faithful as I would. I've spoken to the missus and Miss Mary, and they both approve if you do. And oh, Miss Odeyne, do take me! The house isn't like itself without you, and I would so like to go with you to your new home."

"Well, Alice, if you really mean it, I shall be very glad. Your mistress was speaking about it to me the other day, and we decided that, as she can spare you, and as it is only right you should 'better yourself,' as they say, you should come to me at the Chase. I shall be very glad, you may be sure, but I should like you to think it over carefully first. It is a serious thing to leave home and the place in which one's life has always been passed, and to begin again in quite a new one. You will get larger wages, and your life may be more lively and amusing, but, Alice, there will be more temptations too, and you ought to think carefully before you make your decision. I should be so very sorry if any harm came to you from having followed me."

"But, ma'am, I don't see how it could; I should be with you. It will be almost the same as if I was here."

"I am afraid it will be hardly that, Alice," answered the young wife, with a smile and a sigh, "though I shall do my best to make it so. But you must think it over and talk to your mother, and if you decide that you really wish it, you can come to me any time that you like."

"Oh, but, ma'am, I have spoken to mother already, and she is as pleased as can be. She thinks I should be better away, because of that Jim Rich, who won't let me alone"; and Alice tossed her head and blushed a little, for that was the name of one of her admirers, and she was conscious of having given him more encouragement than was altogether fair, considering she never intended marrying him. "And indeed, Miss Odeyne, it was she who bid me ask if I mightn't go away with you to-morrow. I saw her this very afternoon, and it was that that put it into my head. I could be quite ready, indeed I could, and I should be so glad to get away quiet before anybody knew."

Odeyne looked thoughtfully at the girl, half understanding her eagerness, half afraid to gratify it. She saw that Alice was very pretty. She suspected she had reasons for wishing to get away to a new place, but she wondered if it would be really kind to take her. Her innocent little vanities and coquetries were very harmless here, but might they not get her into trouble elsewhere?

"Well, is the weighty matter settled yet?" asked a clear voice at the door, and Odeyne looked up, relieved to see her elder sister before her. Mary always knew what to do for the best.

"Ah, Mary, you have come in good time to give us your advice. This foolish Alice wants to leave you all to come with me to-morrow. What must I say to her?"

Mary sat down and heard all that there was to hear, and, to the great delight of the little Alice, decided in her favour.

"It will be better for her to go, as she has set her heart on it," she explained to her sister, as they went downstairs together. "She is unsettled here and is anxious to go elsewhere, and she will be far safer with you than anywhere else we could place her. My own opinion is that she will get married before very long. She attracts a good deal of notice with her pretty face and dainty little ways. She will very likely marry rather above her own class, as she has rather grand ideas, and is certainly hardly suited to the life of a working man's wife. Poor little Alice! I hope she may be happy; at least she will have a mistress who will look well after her, and more than that no one can do."

It was a happy evening for Odeyne. After dinner she sat in the curtained nook beside the open window, and one and another of the dear ones came and had a little quiet talk with her. She was so happy, and Desmond so devoted, that the anxious fears experienced at one time or another could not but be laid at rest, at least for a while. Guy looked with keen scrutiny into his sister's face and then smiled.

"One needn't condole with you yet then, _Schwesterling_; you seem to have found out 'how to be happy though married.'"

Odeyne laughed softly to herself.

"At least I shall not commit myself to any lamentations yet. I will leave your sharp eyes to find out the domestic discord when you come to see us. And when will that be, Guy? I shall not feel that the Chase is quite a proper home until you have been to see us there."

"Oh, I will come all in good time, never fear, but not just at once. It is a mistake for the relations to be too thick on the ground at first. You will want a few months to get settled down to the new life. It would not be fair to Desmond to come crowding in too fast. He will want his wife to himself for the first spell at any rate."

"Desmond is too unselfish to be exacting, and he is so very fond of you all too."

"Well, you will have Edmund at any rate close at hand. How pleased you must have been to hear of that appointment! Five years of him almost at your gates. He will be quite a tame cat about your place."

"It will be delightful," said Odeyne with shining eyes; "I have had a lingering hope of something of the kind ever since I realised that the regimental depot was so near the Chase. Desmond was almost as pleased as I. You cannot think how anxious he is that I shall be happy, and not miss you all too much. He is so good to me, Guy."

It was almost the only time Odeyne had allowed herself to praise her husband quite so openly as in these few words. She was not wont to gush at all, and Desmond was too near and too dear for her to speak much of him. So that though her happiness and his devotion were tolerably patent to all, she had said little of it in words; and it was not without a feeling of keen pleasure that the mother, seeking the quiet retreat in which her child had ensconced herself, overheard these last words, before she herself was seen.

"I am pleased indeed to hear it, my darling," she said, as she took the chair Guy had vacated in her favour. "I would not ask you such a question, and indeed one has but to look at your face to read an answer of the best kind there. Still, it is good hearing, and will help us to send you on your way with lighter hearts; but, my darling, there is one question your mother would like to ask you before you go to begin the new life, but I will not do so unless you tell me I may. I would not intrude----"

"Mother, darling, how could you? As if there were anything in the world I would not tell you. I love to talk everything over with you. Only I don't want to bore people with my affairs, and I know it sounds so silly to be always praising one's husband."

"You need never fear tiring me either with praise or any kind of confidence, little daughter. I love Desmond dearly; he is almost like one of my own boys. What I wanted to ask you, my dear child--just the one little doubt that troubles me sometimes--will Desmond help you to rule your household in the fear and love of God? Will he think of the welfare of others in the ordering of his daily life? So much will depend upon the atmosphere, of your house--if you understand what I mean by that. You will have responsibilities resting upon you, darling, such as you have never known before. There will be many lives in the future more or less influenced for good or evil by yours. If you are lax and careless, others will become so, almost as a matter of course, whilst in proportion as you show a regard for what is of paramount importance, so will your dependents be led to do the same. You cannot live for yourselves alone--none of us can. We have duties towards others that we cannot rid ourselves of, however much we may wish. You understand that, my child? I know you wish to do right; but do you quite understand that you will be in the position of one whose actions will be watched by many, and who will have a wide-spreading influence over many lives?"

"Mother dear, I think I do, and indeed I will try. I do want to do what is right--to make our home like this."

"And will Desmond help you?"

"Oh, I think so. He is so kind and considerate whenever we make plans together. Of course he is a little reserved--men always are--and I am not very good at talking either; but he means well, I know. He has very beautiful thoughts sometimes--only you know he has never had a home of his own like ours, so it is hardly to be expected for him to feel just as I do."

"But you will help him and lead him? He loves you so dearly that he will do much for your sake; and remember, my dear child, that much--very much--depends on beginnings. Try to begin well, and the habit once formed will, in itself, be a help. You will understand better as you go on what I mean, and your mother's prayers will be with you always that you may be guided right."

"Your home--our home--my darling. Do you think it will ever be as dear as the old one?"

Desmond looked with fond pride into the sweet face of his bride as he put this question, and caught the look of sparkling happiness in her dewy eyes.

"Desmond, it is lovely--you never told me half. How I wish they could all see it! I shall never be able to make them understand how beautiful it all is. I am almost afraid of being mistress of such a house. Oh! suppose I do not give you nice dinners--suppose I make a dreadful muddle of the housekeeping? Whatever will you say?"

He laughed and kissed her fondly.

"Well, in that awful contingency we will get in a housekeeper to relieve you of all the distasteful offices. My wife is not going to be allowed to worry herself over disagreeable duties. She is to be a lady at large, ready to do the honours of the Chase, and go about to all the festivities, and make the county belles die of envy. Oh, yes, my love, I shall say what I please now. You are my property; I shall be as proud of you as ever I like. I am going to make my little wife a very important person, and if you think that housekeeping details will bore or worry you, we will get a woman in forthwith to relieve you of the burden."

"Now! Desmond, how can you talk such nonsense? as if I were quite a goose! Why, I am appalled as it is at the number of servants we seem to have--if those were the servants we saw drawn up in the hall to welcome us. I do not think we can possibly want them all, let alone another. Little Alice will be quite superfluous, I fear."

"Not a bit of it. You must have your own maid. And as for the rest, you will find you want them all. My mother has made all the arrangements of that kind, and she knows what the house wants; she lived here long enough to be an authority on such points."

"Your mother--Oh! Desmond, shall we go and see her this first evening? Would she like it?"

"Oh, she would like it well enough; but don't you think it would be rather a bore for us? I want my wife all to myself."

She gave him a quick kiss. She liked to hear him speak after this fashion, but her answer was decided.

"I think it would be nice to go. I want to see her so much; and you know she must be so eager to see you again. Yes, let us go, Desmond dear. You must really be impatient to see your mother."

Desmond submitted, only stipulating that they should return home for dinner. They had spent the previous night in London, and had come down early to the Chase, so that there would be plenty of time for the proposed visit.

The young husband was very particular as to the appearance his wife presented; hut, though her dresses were country made and very plain, they fitted her to perfection, and suited her so well that even his fastidious eye could find no fault. Odeyne was quite amused at his anxiety as to what impression she made, but gradually came to understand it better.

It was a new thing to have out a carriage and pair of horses, to go a distance of less than two miles, and to sit behind two men-servants; but Odeyne could not help feeling a little innocent exaltation in her grandeur--with a hope that it was not wrong to find it all so delightful--and as they neared the abode of her mother-in-law, she had other things to think of.

Desmond's mother! How she would love her! She should never feel that she had lost her son by his marriage. No wife ought ever to stand between a mother and her son; but before she had got to the end of her train of thought the carriage stopped, and she found herself following Desmond into a lofty room, rather dim, and redolent of some subtle perfume, but furnished in the sumptuous way that was quite new to the inexperienced country girl.

The next moment her hands were taken by a pair of thin, cold ones, and she found herself kissed French-fashion on both cheeks; but somehow she was not able to put her arms about her new mother's neck, as she had always intended--not that there was any lack of cordiality in the voice that said--

"And so you have come the very first day? Really, my dear children, I am very much obliged to you."

"That was Odeyne's doing. I could not get her to settle to anything till she had seen you. She felt so certain you must be dying to see me again. You see, we mean to practise the domestic virtues in the most exemplary manner."

"The more the better, Desmond. I am glad Odeyne has so much kindly sense and sound, feeling. My dear, if this great boy of mine tries to laugh you out of any of your charming old-world ways, do not pay any attention to him. You are wiser than he will ever be--stick to your own opinion, and bring him round to it."

"You see what you have to expect, Odeyne--a life of constant struggling and tyrannical opposition," cried Desmond merrily. "Never mind, you will at least have an ally in my mother, and she is a host in herself. Ah, here is Maud! Well, madam, you did not expect to find this ceremony inflicted on you so early, did you? Pray let me introduce my wife, and you must make your peace with her as best you may, for I assure you she has never forgiven you your absence at the wedding. Odeyne is a great stickler for etiquette, eh, wifie?"

"Desmond, how can you?" But Desmond rattled away in the same nonsensical fashion, whether to cover a species of nervousness, or simply to try and put all parties at their ease, Odeyne did not feel certain. The mood was new to her in this particular form, and she was not quite sure that she liked it. She would rather have heard something besides banter and nonsense from his lips at this first interview with his relations.

But whilst he rattled on to Maud, Odeyne had the opportunity to enjoy a little quiet talk with his mother, which was just what she wanted. She hoped the pretty old lady, with the bright eyes and dainty grace of manner, would talk to her of her boy, and reveal, by little nameless touches, the motherliness in her nature, but somehow the interview failed to be quite satisfying, or, perhaps, Odeyne had expected too much.

Mrs. St. Claire was very gracious and affable. Notwithstanding the fact that her eyes scanned the girl from head to foot in a way that a shy person would have found rather disconcerting, she talked very kindly, though at times with a touch of satire in her voice and manner that jarred a little upon Odeyne.

She paid her daughter-in-law many little compliments of a very refined and graceful kind; but Odeyne would have liked a warm pressure of the hand, or a tender look towards the son, better than all these put together. She could not help feeling as if some kind of a gulf lay between herself and these people, and as the feeling was quite unknown to her in the life she had led at home, it was disconcerting, and she was disposed to blame herself for it.

Desmond did not stay long, nor did it seem expected that he should.

Odeyne hardly spoke a word to the stately sister, of whom she felt a considerable amount of awe. She ventured to ask her to come soon to see her, but she was not sure that the invitation had not been rather taken as an affront, it was so coldly responded to.

"Well, no one can say we have not done our duty nobly," cried Desmond, throwing himself backward in the carriage with a sigh that sounded rather like one of relief. "Poor old Maud, she looks a bit glum, but that was always the way with her. You seemed to hit it off nicely with the mother, Odeyne. She is a mighty particular old lady, too, so you are to be congratulated."

Odeyne smiled and made no reply. She would not admit even to herself that she had been damped or disappointed. She said that it was foolish to expect every home party to be like the one she had just left, and that she should soon learn to understand other people's ways without feeling chilled. Desmond, almost as if he divined that she had been a little disappointed, was tenderness itself all the evening, and they had a wonderfully sweet time, walking in the quaint old garden and wandering about the dusky rooms, planning the use for each, and picturing the happy life they were about to commence together. Even the grand dinner, with two men-servants in the room, did not oppress Odeyne. She was not quite sure if she liked it as well as the simpler mode of life to which she was accustomed, but at least it interested and amused her, and she liked to watch and admire the easy way in which her husband took his place and gave his orders.

The evening, when they sat out together on the terrace and watched the moon rise over the trees, was perfect, and the girl's heart was very full of thanksgiving for the happiness of her future lot.

"Shall we have prayers in the hall, dear? It seems the most suitable place, I think," she said, rising to move indoors as the clock struck ten. Desmond had risen too. Now he paused, and looked at her a little oddly in the dim light.

"Prayers! Oh, I had not thought about that. I don't think, dearest, that we can manage evening prayers here."

"Why not, Desmond dear?"

"You see, Odeyne, we shall often be out in the evening, and often we shall have people in the house who will not be used to that ceremony; and I can't bear a parade, or making that kind of thing a bore to people. I'm sure you would not wish it either. And it is no good beginning unless one means to keep it up."

Odeyne stood still thinking, with a little shadow upon her face.

"Well, Desmond dear, I do not want to do anything to bring what we prize into contempt; but we should not like to have no prayers in our house. Shall we have them in the morning instead? We shall always be at home then, and if people do not like them, as you seem to think, they need not come down. But the household will meet together regularly, as we did at home."

Desmond seemed still to hesitate; but it was the first thing she had asked him in the new home, and he loved her too well to deny any request of hers willingly.

"Well, darling, we will settle it so, though you know your ideas on some points are rather antiquated. We will have prayers in the mornings before breakfast, and the only stipulation I make is that if I am not down in time, you read them yourself."

Odeyne smiled and consented, but she thought the stipulation not likely to be enforced, and the experience of the following week proved her confidence to be well grounded. Desmond was everything her heart could wish, and the days flew by one after another as if on golden wings.

The only small trouble was the coldness of Maud, with whom she had resolved to make such friends, for Desmond had spoken several times of Maud's devotion to himself.

Odeyne was quite unable to comprehend that dumb, pained jealousy which Maud experienced every time she saw Odeyne and her husband together. How could she guess at the vague heart-hunger of one who had never been ardently loved, whose lot it had always been to give, rather than to receive, tokens of affection?

"I want to show you something," she exclaimed one day, when Maud chanced to drive across with some message from Mrs. St. Claire; "I have been planning a surprise for Desmond, and it has just come. He is in town, of course, and I have nobody to share my pleasure with. I am so glad you have come!" and she put her arm within that of Maud, trying hard not to think her irresponsive and cold. Surely she would take pleasure in anything that was done for Desmond!

Odeyne led the way across the hall to the little sanctum that was Desmond's particular "den." Hitherto that place had been rather sparsely furnished, but to-day it had been completely metamorphosed by the introduction into it of a very beautiful carved and inlaid bureau, a chair of the same sort of workmanship, an overmantel, and some fine skin rugs laid down upon the floor.

"There!" cried Odeyne, with innocent pride and pleasure, "now the room looks worthy of Desmond, does it not?"

Maud looked round with eyes that took in everything, and that expressed a certain amount of surprise.

"It is very handsome," she said. "That sort of work is very uncommon, and----"

She stopped, but Odeyne understood in a moment what the unfinished sentence implied, and answered eagerly--

"It is rather expensive, but it is good, and I knew it was just Desmond's taste, and that he would not get it for himself. You see, I have an uncle in Australia, and he sent me a cheque to get myself a wedding present. It did not come till after we were married, and so I just kept my little secret from Desmond, and ordered these things for a surprise. Do you think he will like them?"

"Yes," answered Maud, but still in the same rather cool way; she hesitated a moment, and then added in a hasty and almost nervous fashion, "But you might have been wiser to keep your money, Odeyne. You may want it for something more important some day. And I would not encourage Desmond to be extravagant, if I were you. Don't let him think he must needs have everything he sets his fancy on. It's not the best thing for any of us!"

Then she bid a hasty adieu to her sister-in-law, and beat a retreat, leaving Odeyne standing in the middle of the beautified little room with rather a startled look upon her face.

What had made Maud say that?