CHAPTER IV

NEIGHBOURS

THE house-party was in full swing. The weather was propitious, and the shooting satisfactory.

Anstice's young cousins, Julia and Mabel Barrett, were very useful to her in many ways. They were as ready to arrange flowers, and make themselves pleasant to the elder folk, as they were to enjoy themselves with the young ones. Anstice had ventured in view of a house-party to add an experienced butler to her household, and he proved a great success, for he seemed ready to turn his hand to anything.

The dinner-party went off without a hitch. In the drawing-room afterwards, Mrs. Dermot said to Anstice: "Malcolm told me so much about your perfections that I came here determined to dislike you thoroughly. I wonder why I can't do it? I think it is because you have the perfect trait of a good hostess; you make every one feel that you really like them. Now, we have nothing in common. I only came here out of curiosity, to see you. Malcolm hinted that there was some mystery in your quiet and secretive marriage. I love the town and hate the country. You do the reverse, and yet as you talk to me, I say to myself, 'She's actually taken a liking to me!' I know you haven't, but the impression remains."

"But, my dear Mrs. Dermot, I do like you," said Anstice, laughing; "your frankness is so refreshing. I love anyone who lets me know a few of their thoughts."

"I wish you would let me know a few of yours."

"At present, then, I'm nervously anxious that our house-party shall be a success. I'm wondering if the young ones will get bored here in the evenings with no dancing. We have no ballroom, and Justin hates gramophones. And I am not up in all the jazz music of the day. Without music of some sort, there can be no dancing. What do you advise? There's the billiard-room for them to go to."

"It strikes me that the youth of to-day needs no amusing; what they want to do, that they do, without any reference to their host or hostess. I am thankful I have no children."

Anstice found that Mrs. Dermot was right; the young people got into the billiard-room together, and were perfectly happy there having a rag, and making a great deal of noise.

Colonel McInnes's daughters were the most lively ones of the party. They were most disgusted when their parents insisted upon departing at half-past ten.

One of them appealed to Anstice.

"Aren't we old-fashioned fogies, going off like this? Father never imagines that we would prefer to be left behind, and come home in the small hours of the morning!"

"You must come by yourselves one day," said Anstice, laughing, "then you can order your car at any hour you like."

"I hope you'll ask us again. Lottie and I have always liked you. We've stood up for you when the gossips said something was wrong between Mr. Holme and yourself. But you're all right, aren't you?"

"Indeed we are," was Anstice's smiling response.

She had had several of these little stings already. And Justin overheard one speech.

It was from Mrs. Frank Agnew. She was the least pleasant of the house-party, a pretty little woman who attracted the men by a certain charm of manner.

"Dear Justin!" she had said to Anstice soon after the gentlemen had joined them in the drawing-room; "my husband and he have yachted so much together. And when he got very sick of his house in these wilds, he would come and stay with us at South Sea. I have received many confidences from him. For several years I have been urging him to marry, but he wouldn't hear of it. When we heard he had really done it at last, and that his bride was no one whom we knew, I was frankly devoured with curiosity. But it was rough lines on you for him to yacht away from you a day or two after your wedding. My husband met him at Gib on the way out, and Justin told him that he was no longer a bachelor. Did you know his ways when you married him? You should have bargained for a honeymoon at least. His yacht will be a powerful rival to his wife. We always said it would. You will have to put your foot down and refuse to be left behind next time. But perhaps you are a bad sailor? I can hardly believe that Justin is a married man again. He really seemed to be a confirmed woman-hater!"

"But there is always an exception to every rule."

It was Justin who spoke, and he laid his hand on his wife's shoulder caressingly as he did so.

Anstice looked at him with her happy smile.

It was Mrs. Agnew who looked a little discomfited.

"Listeners never hear any good of themselves," she said. "I did not notice you were so close to us, or I should have moderated my voice. Still, I have said nothing that is not true. You did run away from your wife directly you married."

"I will not contradict you," said Justin with a sarcastic little bow; "no doubt all the circumstances under which I did it are known to you, so nothing more need be said. Anstice, I think the Rector wants to say good night to you."

Anstice moved away. For the next few days she was much engrossed with her party, but she did not neglect the children, and though their hour after tea with her had to be given up for the time, she never missed visiting them at bedtime. Colonel Dermot inveigled her out for one or two walks with him, and Justin would look at him with an amused look in his eyes, when he began to sound his wife's praises.

"You don't appreciate her, she's one in a thousand."

"I am not a jealous husband," said Justin. "I feel flattered that you should admire her so. It shows my good taste."

They were alone together over the smoking-room fire. The Colonel looked at his friend in silence for a moment.

"No, you are not jealous, you are too cold-blooded, old chap. Jealousy follows love."

"I don't know about that," said Justin. "My wife inspires me with such confidence that I know nothing on earth would make her act in any way to warrant jealousy on my part."

"You are right there."

Colonel Dermot spoke heartily, but conscience gave him a prick or two. He had desperately tried to come to closer quarters than Anstice would permit. He knew that as her husband's friend and Ruffie's godfather, she welcomed and liked him, nothing more. She had shown him unmistakably that she wanted no sympathy for herself and no admiration. She was content with ordinary friendship.

When the house-party broke up, Anstice felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She was standing on the terrace waving farewell to the last of her guests when Justin joined her.

"Well," he said, "it's over. I really think we can congratulate ourselves upon having got through it remarkably well. I'm thankful to be quiet again for a bit."

"So am I—devoutly thankful," said Anstice with warmth.

"I don't think I could thrive amongst numbers, and yet Mrs. Dermot told me that it is desolation when she is not in a crowd. What a comfort we are not all made alike!"

Life slipped back again to its normal routine.

Then one evening after dinner Anstice said to her husband:

"Do you know some Miss Maybricks by name?"

He smiled.

"Of course I know them both. As young girls they were great favourites, handsome and go-ahead. They were my seniors as far as age goes, and when I was in my teens, I used to adore the younger—Carrie."

"Mr. Bolland has been talking about them. He wants me to go and see one of them. How can I do it? She has not called upon me."

"She doubtless does not know of your existence. Harscale Hall is in the wilds, right amongst the Fells, about twelve miles from us. Why does he want you to know her?"

"He was telling me such a sad story about them. The younger had the property left her by her father's will. She was his favourite, and the elder was furious that she should be turned out of her home, and be treated so by her father. She set up house for herself about five miles away, five miles nearer us she is, for she is in Mr. Bolland's parish."

"She would be. She took an old farm-house and glorified it, making it into a very comfortable home for herself. They've never spoken to each other or met, I believe, since their father died. A case of North-country pride and resentment."

"What terrible people North-country people can be!" said Anstice with feeling. "Mr. Bolland told me that the younger, for want of something better to do in that lonely place, took to betting on horses. For some years she was in money difficulties, and then got into moneylenders' hands, and mortgaged her property heavily. Now the mortgagee is foreclosing, and she will have to turn out. She's in very bad health, and is in great distress, especially as she finds that the elder sister is the mortgagee, and will give her no mercy. She is literally going to turn her out as she was turned out years ago. Isn't it sad? And they're sisters!"

"How has Harriet got the money to buy in the property?" said Justin musingly. "I remember she came in for her mother's money, but it wasn't a fortune."

"Mr. Bolland says that she has been screwing and saving for years to do it. He wants me to go and see Miss Carrie, but how can I force my way in? And he thinks that if I get to know them I may make peace between them, but how can I? He expects impossibilities from me. He went to see the elder one, Miss Harriet, for she is really his parishioner, but he says she is like adamant as far as her sister is concerned."

"I don't see that you need trouble about them," Justin said; "quarrels like that can't be mended."

"Oh, but it's dreadfully sad, and it brings such hardness and bitterness into lives which might be happy and serene in their old age."

"If people can't live at peace, let them part," said Justin sternly; "because you've lived together as children is no reason for continuing to do so when your tempers are contrary and your hearts bitter."

As he spoke, the quarrel between himself and his sister flashed into Anstice's mind.

She looked at him inquiringly, and then impulse prompted her to say:

"Is that a bit of experience?"

"It is," he said shortly.

For a moment there was silence between them, then he looked at her searchingly.

"Your face tells tales," he said; "you've heard from my Aunt Lucy about our family row, I suppose?"

"Yes, I am afraid I did. Oh, Justin, you are not going to continue the ill-feeling between you and your sister all your life?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Another case of these terrible North-country people, eh? I was willing to be friends with her long ago, but, it is useless. If you can patch up the Miss Maybricks' quarrel, you may be able to patch up ours. But you'll be a very clever woman to do either. Now what do you want to do? I wouldn't mind calling on Miss Carrie with you if you like. We could take over the car to-morrow. But if she's ill, she'll hardly be likely to see visitors."

"Mr. Bolland says it is rheumatism, but he says she does see people. For it was an old friend who went to see her who told Mr. Bolland about her. It's very good of you. I think I should like to see her."

So the next day Justin had out the car. He had engaged a chauffeur on a month's trial, so did not drive himself.

It was a lovely day, and as they wound about the Fells, going up through a pass into a still wilder and more desolate country beyond, Anstice turned to her husband:

"Do you think that this wild, bold scenery hardens people's hearts instead of softening? I imagine we are susceptible to our atmosphere."

He laughed.

"Have you found yourself hardening since you have been amongst the Fells?"

"Ah, but we have the lake. I always think water softens scenery, and then look at our woods and pastureland. Here is nothing but crag upon crag. Lofty, steep, rocky heights with scanty grass. I think of the Brontës and their writings, especially Emily's. Powerful, but not pleasant. That is like the landscape about us, isn't it?"

"I did not think you were so fanciful. The last time I saw Miss Carrie was at a garden-party at the Duke of N—'s place. She was in radiant spirits, and very pleased with herself and her world. Here we are."

They had come to a little hamlet at the foot of a great mountain, then turned in at some big gates in a high wall, and for two miles drove through an avenue of beeches which still held some of their brown leaves as if defying winter to strip them bare. Then they stopped before a big square stone house. The grounds were untidy and neglected. When they got to the front door, it was opened by an untidy old woman, who looked like a caretaker.

"Is Miss Maybrick in?" she repeated after them dully. "Well, she is, and she isn't. I reckon she's not in to strangers."

"Take her my card," said Justin promptly; "and tell her I have brought my wife to see her. We will wait in the hall."

It was a bare, desolate-looking house. The stone flooring had threadbare rugs upon it. The oak tables and chairs were thick with dust. The old woman went upstairs, and after some considerable time returned saying that Miss Maybrick would see them.

Anstice tried not to see the dust and decay on all sides of them as they went upstairs and along a corridor to a sitting-room at the extreme end.

When the door opened, they found a blazing fire to greet them. The room originally had been handsomely furnished. Thick purple velvet curtains hung from the windows, but they had a film of dust over them, as had also the old Persian carpet underfoot.

Sitting in a chair by the fire was Miss Carrie Maybrick. She was not a very old lady, and had a mass of untidy copper-coloured hair which was coiled round on the top of her head. She had handsome rings on her fingers and a necklace of emeralds round her neck. She was dressed in a shabby brown velvet gown, and had bedroom slippers on. A novel was in her hand, which she put down as she turned to greet them. The room was most untidy. Cardboard boxes, books and papers, string, tins of biscuits, were strewn about, some on the floor, some piled on chairs or couches. There were handsome pictures on the walls, and old china; but it was neither a pretty room nor a comfortable one. A small brown Pomeranian was in a basket by her feet, and yapped persistently at the intruders, until he was well slapped by his mistress.

Miss Maybrick seemed genuinely pleased to see Justin.

"Can't get up, my feet are swollen with rheumatic gout! Why, you old sinner, you've never given me a call for a good fifteen years or so! And just as good-looking as ever! I thought your wife was dead: is this another?"

She turned to Anstice.

"I'm a dreadfully blunt creature, forgive me, but I feel sometimes as if my wits are deserting me in this out-of-the-way place."

"We have only been married six months," said Justin. "I was a widower for eight years. Why haven't we come across each other all these years?"

"Why? Because you won't take the trouble to come twelve miles to see an old pal. You're never at home. I hear you live on a yacht. Have you got tired of the sea? And are you settling down now that you have such a charming wife?"

"I won't make any promises," said Justin lightly. "Are you living in this great house all alone?"

She shook her head.

"Ah, I shall soon be turned out like a beggar in the street. Haven't you heard? Hatty has got hold of it in her sly way, and is foreclosing the mortgage. I suppose you haven't a few odd thousands you could lend me? No? It's driving me mad. I lie awake at night and plan and plan. My luck has deserted me. If I put on any horse now, I'm sure to lose. I've got rid of all the silver to Lambert in town. I could bear leaving the old place if anyone but Hatty was going to be the owner. Can't think how she has squeezed together so much money. Isn't she a heartless wretch to be turning her only sister out into the world, perhaps to die in the union! I'm penniless, my lawyer tells me. The small farms I have sold to pay my way have dropped into Hatty's hands."

"You should patch it up with her, and both live here together," said Justin.

"I'm willing, but she's the aggrieved party. Says I drove her out once, and now it is my turn!"

Miss Maybrick produced a rather dirty handkerchief and wiped her eyes, but she did not give way to tears.

"I wish I could give you some tea, but I have none myself till supper-time. I can't keep maids in this desolate house. I've only got one old woman and her nephew attending upon me. It isn't worth while to worry over an establishment if I'm to be turned out of it. Now I've made my moan. Tell me the news of the neighbourhood."

Justin chatted away very pleasantly to her. Anstice for the most part was a listener, but when they were taking their leave of her, Miss Maybrick begged Anstice to come and see her again.

"If you have a car, twelve miles is nothing, and you could take me out for a turn. I have no conveyance of any kind, and shall soon be a bedridden cripple. I'm sure you and I would get on together. I love your dimples, and your smile. Will you come?"

"Indeed I will," Anstice promised her.

"I feel," she said to her husband as they were driving home together, "as if it is to be my mission to drag people out of their loneliness in these Fells. I've had a try with a young life, and now this is an old life. What a wonderful thing the love of home and possessions is to some people! Miss Maybrick would be so much more comfortable in a small modern house amongst neighbours. But she clings to that gloomy old house as if it were a veritable paradise."

"Houses and estates are generally sources of family feuds," said Justin.

"Nothing," said Anstice firmly, "is more distressing than quarrels amongst brothers and sisters."

Justin said nothing, and for the time Anstice dropped the subject.