CHAPTER VI.

_AUTUMN DAYS._

"What, Alice, so soon?" said Odeyne, with something of surprise and gentle reproof in her tone. "I do not wish to stand in the way of your happiness, as I think you know, but is it not rather sudden?"

Pretty Alice stood before her young mistress, twisting the corner of her apron in her fingers, her face rosy-red with the stress of her feelings--shame, pleasure, and gratified vanity all blended together--not unmixed, Odeyne hoped, with deeper and more lasting emotion.

"If you please, ma'am, it does not seem sudden to us. He has been courting me a good while now. We met each other at Goodwood, where you and the master went for the races. He is everything that is respectable, and I think mother would be pleased. But I wanted to tell you first of all, as you've always been so kind."

"What is his name, Alice? and what do you know about him? Do you quite understand what a serious step you are taking in thinking of marriage? I only speak like this for your own good. It seems as if I were in a manner responsible for you, as you are so far away from your own relations, and have left them all to be with me."

"Oh yes, ma'am, I know that, and I know you are always kind. But if you were to see him, I am sure you would be satisfied. Why, he is almost a gentleman, and he earns his two pounds a week regular. He is what they call a clerk, and he wants, above everything, to get into the master's office. He has very good references, he says, and I thought maybe you would speak up for him."

"Well, Alice, the master shall certainly hear all about it, and no doubt he will do all that is kind and right, and I should be very glad for your husband to be in our employ. But if he is a clerk, what took him down to Goodwood in race week? It was not the best place for him, surely?"

"You see, ma'am, we like our little bit of amusement as well as our betters. Poor folks have the same kind of feelings as rich ones, I think. It isn't a bad place--you and the master were there. It was as good a way of spending his little bit of holiday as any other."

Odeyne made no reply.

There were times when she felt a momentary sinking at heart, for which she could not entirely account.

Instead of answering, she asked a question.

"What is his name? You have not told me that."

"Walter Garth, ma'am; and if you would please see him I think you would not object any more. He has no father or mother, and his sisters and brothers are all married and scattered, and he has nobody depending upon him. We should be very happy and comfortable. He has saved a little money, and he says if I like it better, he will live in the country and go into town every day. Oh, he is very, very kind, and will do anything if I will only marry him. I do hope, ma'am, that you will let me."

Odeyne smiled a little at the girl's simplicity.

"It is hardly for me to decide such a point, Alice. I will give you the best advice in my power, but you must be the one to decide. All I hope is that you will not act in a hurry, but will insist on at least six or eight months' engagement. If he really cares for you he will not mind the delay very much, if you ask it, and it will give you time to know more of one another."

Alice looked a little disappointed; she hesitated, and then said, as she twisted her apron still more--

"He will think that a long time to wait. He wants to be married at Christmas--and thought that rather long. Folks like us do not care for waiting such a time. When it's all settled it seems more sensible like to get it all over and done with--leastways Walter thinks so--he said so the other day."

"And are you in such a great hurry to leave me?"

A different look came into the girl's face at once. She was not really ungrateful or callous, and she loved her mistress dearly; but she had been thinking of her own affairs of late to the exclusion of all else, and at such a crisis of a woman's life such self-absorption is natural and pardonable enough.

"Oh no, ma'am; sometimes it half breaks my heart to think of leaving you. But what can I do? I can't say I don't care for Walter when I do, and if he would but let us live somewhere near here, where I could see you often, I think I should be quite happy again. Oh, if you would but see him yourself, I am sure you would help us."

"Well, Alice, I will. You know I always wish to stand your friend. And I should be very glad to have you near, if the distance from town is not too great. I will certainly do what I can to promote your happiness. You had better write to this Walter Garth to come over next Saturday afternoon. I will pay his expenses."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Alice, brightening up at once; "he is sure to come. He often does run over for the Sunday. I know you will be pleased with him, and he is truly fond of me."

Then Odeyne finished her toilet quickly and went downstairs, for she was expecting her mother-in-law and Maud on a visit of some days, and they might arrive at any time now.

Mrs. St. Claire and her daughter had been among the number of those who had been absent from home during the past weeks, so that Odeyne had seen but little of them. She had made the most of the opportunities presented during the first month of life at the Chase, and in many ways she seemed to know them pretty well; but so far no real intimacy of thought or feeling had been established between them, and she hoped that a residence beneath the same roof would bring about this desirable consummation.

But as she reached the hall a cry of pleasure escaped her lips, for she saw her brother Edmund standing there, muffled up in a thick overcoat and comforter, his portmanteau at his feet.

She ran towards him with a face full of sunshine. She had seen nothing of him for nearly a fortnight, and his visits had so far been altogether too few and far between to satisfy her, though she knew that he could not help it.

"Edmund, delightful! And have you really come to stop? What a dear boy you are! Do you know how pleased I am to see you?"

He stooped and kissed her warmly. His face was very bright too.

"Well, you see, I have taken you at your word. You said there would always be a bed for me whenever I liked to turn up. I hope I have not exceeded my prerogative in taking you by surprise."

"Edmund, how hoarse you are! You must have a horrid cold."

"I have, but do not scold it or me, for it has got me this unexpected week's leave of absence. Yes, Odeyne, I have positively come for a whole week, and you had better make up your mind to the infliction. I am supposed to want a little nursing, so you see what you are let in for."

She laughed as she led him into the cosy drawing-room, and established him in the armchair by the fire. He was in the best of spirits, despite his hoarseness and trifling indisposition, and neither brother nor sister were disposed to find fault with it, as it had brought them so much pleasure.

"I hope you will not mind, Edmund, but mamma and Maud are coming to-day to stay for a little while. I am very glad to have you, for mamma likes to be talked to and amused, and I am sure Desmond will be delighted; for of course it is a little dull for him when my time is taken up so much more by visitors. I do not think you have ever seen any of Desmond's relations, have you?"

"No, never. What kind of an old lady is she? Very formidable, eh? Does she bully you?"

"Oh no, Edmund. She is very kind. She makes us beautiful presents, and is not the least bit captious or interfering. Sometimes I almost wish she would make more criticisms. But she always says complimentary things about all we do."

"Ah, well, I think she would be rather hard to please if she found fault with your _ménage_. Well, I will do my best to be civil to the old lady. What is the sister like? Is she as pretty as Mrs. Vanborough? I saw her once, driving with her husband in a very extensive turn-out. She was a regular stunner."

"Maud is not much like Beatrice--not nearly so easy to get on with at first, but I am not sure that I should not really like her better if I could only get to know her; but I do not think she likes me, and that makes it more difficult."

"She must have rum taste, then."

Odeyne laughed and shook her head.

"You think so, dear boy, but people are so different. I cannot hope to please them all, I am afraid. Hark! that is Desmond's step. Oh, how good of him! He has come home by an earlier train, to be here when mamma arrives."

Desmond it was, and as he entered the room his face lighted up with pleasure, for he liked immensely to have a man-guest, and he had already heard that his brother-in-law had arrived with luggage.

"This is capital, isn't it, Odeyne? So the mater has not turned up yet? Well, she will not be long now. And how does the world wag with you, Edmund? You come in good time to give us the Ashford gossip. My mother loves a little military news."

The two men plunged into talk at once, and Odeyne sat listening, with her face bright with pleasure and interest. She felt that it was a very happy chance that had brought Edmund to the Chase at this particular juncture. Mrs. St. Claire was sure to like him--she was fond of anyone who would talk in a bright, animated way, and Odeyne had a good deal of sisterly admiration of, and pride in, her handsome soldier brother. Perhaps he was the one out of the whole family group most likely to produce a favourable impression on the old lady, and it was a relief to have him in the house upon this first visit.

Nor was Odeyne disappointed by the result of her expectations. Mother-in-law and sister-in-law alike seemed pleased and aroused by the gaiety of the two young men, as they sat over the fire making merry together and entertaining the ladies by their jokes and stories.

Edmund did his best, for his sister's sake, to please her new relations, and Mrs. St. Claire remarked, as Odeyne accompanied her to her room that night, that it must be a great advantage to have her brother so near at hand. Odeyne assented warmly, and listened to her mother-in-law's little compliments about Edmund with far more pleasure than when the soft speeches were addressed to herself.

Even Maud had been quite lively and talkative that evening, and Desmond, who had been a little disposed to grumble about the visit of his relatives, now declared that Odeyne had been quite right in suggesting it, and that she was a first-rate little mistress and hostess.

Odeyne was still almost childishly pleased at any compliments from her husband, and glowed with a happy satisfaction. Then, as they sat over their fire sociably together, she told him of little Alice's petition of that afternoon, and asked him what he thought of it.

Desmond listened, and seemed struck by a happy idea.

"Tell you what it is, Odeyne, if that fellow Garth is any good, and _has_ a good character, and all that, it strikes me he might be uncommonly useful to me. And in that case I would engage him almost at once."

"Oh, Desmond, I am so glad. Have you really an opening for him? How very fortunate."

"You see, it's like this. I want a trustworthy fellow to act as a sort of confidential clerk, to live near here and go up with messages and letters on the days I don't go in to business. Several of these horrid, wet, foggy days I might have stayed cosily at home with my little wife, if I could have sent a confidential messenger up to the City house. And now, with the hunting just beginning, I may be a little less regular again, and it would be no end of a convenience then to have a fellow like that at one's own gates, to send in every morning with instructions for the day. And in the winter, when the weather may be perfectly beastly, it would be a great relief to feel less tied, eh, wifie? You would be glad sometimes to keep me at home, when the snow was on the ground, and the whole place reeking in frost-fog?"

"I should indeed, Desmond. I cannot bear you going by rail when it is foggy. I am not so used to trains as people who have lived amongst them all their lives. And I should be very pleased indeed to keep Alice still under my eye, so to speak; only you know, dearest, I should not like to see you grow slothful over your business on the strength of this new arrangement."

Desmond laughed lightly as he bent to kiss her.

"No danger of that, so long as I have so faithful a monitor as my little wife at home. Are you in such a great hurry to get rich, dearest, that you are determined I shall not let the grass grow under my feet?"

Odeyne smiled and shook her head, but made no other answer. She had no wish to put into words the vague feelings that prompted her to urge her husband to keep as far as possible to some steady occupation, be it what it might.

Next day the young wife took Mrs. St. Claire all over the house. She had never really seen it since she had left it many years ago, and it interested her to note all that had been done in the intervening time. Odeyne was half afraid that there might be something painful to her in thus going over the place; but either she did not feel it so, or else she was most successful in hiding the feeling. She admired and praised--not without a few shrewd comments that partook of the nature of criticism--and Odeyne was both glad and grateful for any hints, both because she knew her own inexperience, and because she felt it more like real intimacy to be criticised as well as praised. In the course of their peregrinations they reached the nurseries, which had been left almost untouched since the elder Mrs. St. Claire's time. They were bright, cheerful rooms, with plenty of light and space, and Odeyne paused here and hesitated, the colour rising in her face as she looked round her, for she had a little confidence she wished to make to Desmond's mother, and it seemed almost easier to make it now.

"We have done nothing here so far, but I wanted to ask you--do you think they should be freshly papered and painted? I think they look a little dingy and neglected, and I think--I hope--if all goes well, that we shall want them in the spring."

Mrs. St. Claire was much pleased and gratified, though she said little. There was just one quick, bright glance, and warm pressure of the hand that brought the blood to the girl's face, and nearly brought the tears to her eyes too, and then the mother-in-law turned into the woman of business, and began to give very sound and practical advice as to what would be needed in the doing up of the rooms themselves.

Certainly, after that morning a better understanding existed between the elder and younger Mrs. St. Claire. Odeyne was always ready to meet advances more than half way, and the feeling that she had become more to Desmond's mother, and had risen in her estimation, was very pleasant. Maud was not sensibly changed; she spent every available moment with Desmond, and when he was out, Edmund showed a disposition to monopolise her. When Maud was in her better moods she could be very amusing and interesting, with her quick observation, keen tongue, and remarkably vivid descriptive powers. But in Odeyne's presence she seldom unbent like this, and it was only by hearsay that she learned how different others found her.

Edmund was of great service at this time, and the days flew by only too fast. His cold mended apace, and he was deprived, as he said, of the only decent excuse he might have alleged as the reason for an extension of his absence from duty.

"By-the-by, do you hunt?" asked Desmond, on the last day of Edmund's stay at the Chase; "if you do we shall often meet. The season will begin almost directly."

Edmund laughed at the question.

"Soldiers who have little but their pay to live on, can't afford to hunt."

"Oh, if that is all, I can give you a mount any day you like to arrange to be at the meet, if you will give me a day's notice. You must ride half a stone lighter than I. Any of my horses would carry you easily."

Edmund's face brightened. Like all country-bred men he enjoyed a day with the hounds immensely; but it was a pleasure that was very rarely attainable.

"It's awfully good of you to say so, but really I should hardly like to take advantage of your offer. You must want your hunters yourself."

"Oh, I've more than I want. I have a couple coming down from Leicestershire next week. I meant to give my old hunter, whom I can trust down to the ground, to my wife to hunt this season; but she does not approve of ladies in the hunting-field--and perhaps she is right--so really I have a spare animal very much at your service. It will be a charity to ride him, for he loves the work, and would take it very ill to be left time after time in his stable when the hounds were out. You'll really do me a favour if you'll use him as often as you can. Send me a line at any time and he shall be brought to the meet for you, unless you will come overnight and ride him across yourself."

"Well, really you are awfully kind. I don't know what to say. Suppose I bring the animal to grief?"

"Well, we'll put it down to Odeyne's account. One always reckons to lose one horse a season if a lady hunts it. If it doesn't go lame, it gets a sore back, and anyway is no more good."

"Well, Desmond, if you persist in making such good offers you can't expect a fellow to decline them--it's not in human nature. I shall be only too pleased to come as often as I have the chance. What kind of runs do you get round here?"

"Well, regular hunting men from the Midlands would call them execrable--not worth calling runs at all; but we residents try to make the best of things, and enjoy our sport very well. Of course it isn't hunting country, it doesn't take two eyes to see that; but all the same we get very fair runs from time to time, and it is always pleasant to meet one's friends, and all that kind of thing. You will get to know a lot of jolly fellows, and that alone is worth something. And I shall like introducing you and making you feel at home here. If you have five years of it, it is worth while to know the people about, and soldiers are always popular, eh, Odeyne?"

Odeyne looked back with a smile, yet her husband's last words had caused her a momentary anxiety. Would this hunting throw Desmond into the company of Beatrice and her set once more? And would Edmund make friends amongst them too? She had felt so pleased to hear the offer which was to give him so much pleasure, and already her satisfaction was a little damped. But then she took heart again, for if Edmund were with him surely Desmond would not be so dependent on Beatrice and her friends. Perhaps all would turn out for the best, and she must not encourage idle fears, but rather resolve that his home should be full of sunshine, so that he always came back to it with renewed pleasure.

When their visitors had left them, husband and wife turned their attention to Alice Hanbury's love affairs. Walter Garth presented himself duly, and produced a most favourable impression. He was good-looking in a manly fashion, and was evidently very much in earnest in his courtship. He was better educated than most men of his class, and far more refined in manner. Alice had had some cause to speak of him as "almost a gentleman," though at the time Odeyne had thought it anything but in his favour. However, his refinement proved to be that of nature, not a mere veneer assumed for a purpose; and as Desmond took a decided fancy to him, and his employers gave him an excellent character, all went smoothly for the lovers. It was arranged that they should live at one of the lodges, that Alice should continue certain little offices for her mistress as long as she cared to do so, and that Garth himself should go up daily to town in the capacity of Desmond's confidential clerk. His salary was liberal, his duties more responsible than onerous, and nothing could have seemed more delightful to the happy Alice. The wedding was fixed for Christmas, as Desmond took the part of the sighing swain, and declared that it would be cruel to ask him to defer his happiness longer; and Alice looked forward to her future life without the smallest misgiving of any kind.

Even Beatrice was quite interested in this new plan.

"It's a capital idea!" she cried in her decisive fashion. "For really it is rather absurd for Desmond to be tied so much by the business. He is never to be had when wanted, and it is always the office that is the excuse. A confidential man on the spot will be an immense help, and now we shall see more of you both, I hope. We have let you enjoy a preternaturally secluded honeymoon all these months, as you are both such babies and so refreshingly fond of each other. But you must not live always shut up as you are doing now. So I give you fair warning!"

"I am sure we come to see you very often, Beatrice," said Odeyne, with a slightly heightened colour.

"Oh yes, dear, you drop in pretty often, and it is very nice of you; but you decline invitations to stop in the house because of the distance from the station for Desmond. I don't care much for afternoon calls. I like people who come and stay--and so does Algy. He is very fond of Desmond, and has been quite cross that he is so hard to get hold of. But this new plan will make all easy."

Odeyne smiled, trying hard to keep down a dull sense of reluctant pain that would assert itself, she hardly knew why.

"We shall be having visitors of our own very soon," she remarked, looking at her sister-in-law with brightening eyes. "We have planned to ask quite a houseful of my people down for Christmas. I don't know how many will come, but I am sure we shall get some of them."

"That will be very delightful for you," answered Beatrice cordially; "I am sure I shall be very pleased to make the acquaintance of one and all. Your brother Edmund is delightful. Algy has taken quite a fancy to him, and we hope to see a good deal of him. If the rest are at all like him they will be very popular here--as you are yourself, my dear. But we are some way off Christmas yet, and I hope we shall be able to show you a little social gaiety before then. I shall arrange something with Desmond soon about getting you across."

Beatrice sailed away to her carriage, all smiles and graciousness and good temper. She treated Odeyne in a far more sisterly fashion than Maud ever dreamed of doing, and was sincerely fond of her; and yet she had a way of leaving behind her a curious sense of oppression, which Odeyne tried in vain to shake off.

"I love Beatrice dearly," she said to herself, giving a little shake, as though to get rid of some unwelcome impression; "but somehow I don't want to go and stay at her house. We are so happy here. I wonder what Desmond will say about it?"