‘But think how beautiful they are when they are in bloom, ma’am!’ said Cressy, who had just alighted from the carriage.
‘All but the shabby-genteels are in London then, so much good do they do one!’ said Lady Stavely sweepingly. She saw that her hostess was coming down the wide, shallow stone steps, and nodded to her. ‘How-de-do? I’ve been telling Denville he should root up those rhododendrons on the avenue: they make it too dark.’
‘Yes, don’t they?’ agreed Lady Denville. ‘Like descending into Hell; only then, of course, one comes out into open ground, which is such an agreeable surprise. Let me take you into the house, ma’am: the sun is quite scorching!’
The Dowager uttered a cackle of amusement. ‘Thinking of your complexion, are you? When you get to be my age you won’t care a rush for it. We used to lay crushed strawberries on our faces, to clear the sunburn. Slices of raw veal, too, against wrinkles. Not that I ever did so: messy, I call it! I daresay you use all manner of newfangled lotions, but they don’t do you any more good than the old-fashioned remedies did us.’
Lady Denville, who nightly applied distilled water of green pineapples to her exquisite countenance, and protected it during the day with Olympian Dew, replied without a blink that that was very true; and guided her guest towards the steps, offering the support of her arm. This was refused, the Dowager stating that she preferred the services of her footman. She also stated, when it was suggested to her that she might like to be conducted immediately to her bedchamber, that she was an old woman, and in no state to drag herself up any more stairs until she had recovered her breath and what little energy remained to her.
‘Then you shall come into the Blue saloon, which is delightfully cool, ma’am,’ responded Lady Denville, with unabated good-humour. ‘I’ll tell them to make tea, and that will revive you.’
‘Well, it won’t, for I shan’t drink it!’ said the Dowager. ‘I’ll take a cup of tea after dinner, but I won’t maudle my inside with it at this time of day! What I could fancy – but it’s of no consequence if you have none! – is a glass of negus.’
‘To be sure! how stupid of me!’ exclaimed Lady Denville, directing a look of agonized inquiry at her butler.
‘Immediately, my lady!’ he said, rising magnificently to the occasion.
Cressy, still standing at the foot of the steps, raised ruefully smiling eyes to Kit’s face, and said softly: ‘She is tired, you know, and that always makes her knaggy! I am so sorry! But she will be better p
resently.’
An answering smile was in his eyes as he said: ‘I’ve a strong notion that somewhere – in one of the lumber-rooms, I fancy – there is a carrying-chair that was used by my grandfather, when he became crippled with the gout. Do you think – ?’
‘I do not!’ she replied, on a choke of laughter. ‘The chances are that she would take it as an insult. It will be best to leave her to your mother’s management: depend upon it, she will charm her out of the mops! I think she would charm the most ill-natured person imaginable, don’t you? And Grandmama is not that – truly!’
‘Certainly not! A most redoubtable old lady, who instantly won my respect! Now, what would you like to do? Shall I hand you over to Mrs Norton, to be escorted to your bedchamber, or will you take a turn on the terrace with me?’
‘Thank you! I should like to do that. I caught glimpses on the avenue of what I think must be a lake, and longed to get a better view of it.’
‘That may be had from the terrace,’ he said, offering his arm. ‘I wish you might have seen it when the rhododendrons were in full bloom, however! Even your grandmama would own that their reflection in the water, on a sunny day, makes up for their gloominess now!’
‘You wrong her, Denville! Nothing would prevail upon her to do so!’ She turned her head, looking at him a little shyly, yet openly. ‘I wish you will tell me if this visit of ours is – is quite what you wanted?’
He replied immediately: ‘How could it have been otherwise?’
‘Oh, easily! It was a stupid question to ask you, for you were obliged to give me a civil answer! The thing is that I have a lowering suspicion that Grandmama forced Lady Denville to invite us.’
‘I believe it was she who hit upon the notion, but I can assure you that Mama was delighted with it. Can you doubt that I too am delighted?’
‘Well, yes!’ she replied unexpectedly. ‘The thought has teased me that although I told you that I had not perfectly made up my mind, I didn’t ask you to tell me whether you, perhaps, had misgivings too. When you left London, it occurred to me – I could not help wondering if – Oh, dear, my tongue is tying itself into knots! You see, I do understand how very awkward it must be for you, if you are wishing you had never offered for me! So don’t stand on points, but tell me if you feel we should not suit, and leave it to me to settle the matter – which, I promise you, I can do, without the least fuss or noise!’
He put his hand over hers, as it lay on his arm. ‘That is very kind and thoughtful of you!’ he said gravely.
‘Well, I know how difficult it is for gentlemen to cry off,’ she explained. ‘It has always seemed to me to be monstrously unjust, too, for you may quite as easily make a mistake as we females are held to do so frequently!’
‘Very true! That is to say, I haven’t yet had occasion to consider the matter, but I feel sure you are right.’
She smiled. ‘Are you ever at a non-plus? That was charmingly said. But let us have no flummery, if you please! And don’t be afraid that you will offend me! Tell me the truth!’
‘The truth, Miss Stavely, without any flummery, is that the more I see of you the greater becomes my conviction that you are worthy of a better man than I am.’
She wrinkled her brow. ‘Is that a civil way of telling me that you would like to cry off?’
‘No. It is a way of telling you that you are a darling,’ he said, lifting her hand, and lightly kissing it.
The words were spoken before he could check them, and with a sincerity which brought a wave of colour into Cressy’s cheeks. He released her hand, thinking: I must take care; and: I have never known a girl like this one. Aloud, he said: ‘Are you afraid to walk on the grass in those thin sandals, or will you let me show you the rose-garden? It is quite at its best – and I have just caught sight of my young cousin! He will almost certainly join us if we remain here, and I wouldn’t for the world expose you to that trial until you have recovered from the fatigue of your journey!’
Her quick flush had faded; she laughed, falling into step beside him. ‘Yes, indeed! I daresay we must have come quite thirty miles! Is your cousin so very dreadful?’