Sophy of Kravonia: A Novel Page 5

  IV

  FATE'S WAY--OR LADY MEG'S

  The scene is at Hazleby, Lord Dunstanbury's Essex seat. His lordship isstriking the top off his breakfast egg.

  "I say, Cousin Meg, old Brownlow's got a deuced pretty kitchen-maid."

  "There you go! There you go! Just like your father, and yourgrandfather, and all of them! If the English people had any spirit,they'd have swept the Dunstanburys and all the wicked Whig gang into thesea long ago."

  "Before you could turn round they'd have bought it up, enclosed it, andwon an election by opening it to ships at a small fee on Sundays," saidMr. Pindar.

  "Why are Whigs worse than Tories?" inquired Mr. Pikes, with an air ofpatient inquiry.

  "The will of Heaven, I suppose," sniffed Lady Margaret Duddington.

  "To display Divine Omnipotence in that line," suggested Mr. Pindar.

  "A deuced pretty girl!" said Dunstanbury, in reflective tones. He wasdoing his best to reproduce the impression he had received at MorpinghamHall, but obviously with no great success.

  "On some pretext, frivolous though it be, let us drive over and see thismiracle," Pindar suggested.

  "How could we better employ this last day of our visit? You'll drive usover, Percival?"

  "No, thank you, Mr. Pindar," said the young man, resolute in wisdom."I'll send you over, if you like."

  "I'll come with you," said Pikes. "But how account for ourselves? OldBrownlow is unknown to us."

  "If Percival had been going, I'd have had nothing to do with it, but Idon't mind taking you two old sillies," said Lady Margaret. "I wanted topay a call on Elizabeth Brownlow anyhow. We were at school togetheronce. But I won't guarantee you a sight of the kitchen-maid."

  "It's a pretty drive--for this part of the country," observedDunstanbury.

  "It may well become your favorite road," smiled Mr. Pindar,benevolently.

  "And since Lady Meg goes with us, it's already ours," added Mr. Pikes,gallantly.

  So they used to go on--for hours at a time, as Dunstanbury hasdeclared--both at Hazleby when they were there, and at Lady Meg's housein Berkeley Square, where they almost always were. They were pleased toconsider themselves politicians--Pikes a Whig, twenty years behind date,Pindar a Tory, two hundred. It was all an affectation--assumed for thepurpose, but with the very doubtful result of amusing Lady Meg. ToDunstanbury the two old waifs--for waifs of the sea of society theywere, for all that each had a sufficient income to his name and areputable life behind him--were sheerly tiresome--and there seems littleground to differ from his opinion. But they were old family friends, andhe endured with his usual graciousness.

  Their patroness--they would hardly have gibed at the word--was a morenotable person. Lady Meg--the world generally, and Sophy always, spokeof her by that style, and we may take the same liberty--was only childof the great Earl of Dunstanbury. The title and estates passed to hisgrandnephew, but half a million or so of money came to her. She took themoney, but vowed, with an outspoken thankfulness, that from theDunstanbury family she had taken nothing else. If the boast were true,there must have been a powerful strain of eccentricity and perversityderived from elsewhere. All the Dunstanbury blood was Whig; Lady Megcounted the country ruined in 1688. Even Dunstanbury had been a man ofsensibility; Lady Meg declared war on emotion--especially on thegreatest of all emotions. The Dunstanbury attitude in thought had alwaysbeen free, even tending to the materialistic; Lady Meg would believe inanything--so long as she couldn't see it. A queer woman, choosing to goto war with the world and infinitely enjoying the gratuitous conflictwhich she had herself provoked! With half a million pounds and theDuddington blood one can afford these recondite luxuries--and to have aPindar and a Pikes before whom to exhibit their rare flavor. She wasaggressive, capricious, hard to live with. Fancies instead of purposes,whims instead of interests, and not, as it seems, much affection foranybody--she makes rather a melancholy picture; but in her time she madea bit of a figure, too.

  The air of the household was stormy that day at Morpingham--an incentiveto the expedition, not a deterrent, for Lady Meg, had she known it.Sophy was in sore disgrace--accused, tried, and convicted ofinsubordination and unseemly demeanor towards Mrs. Smilker. The truthseems to be that this good woman (Rest her soul! She has a neattombstone in Morpingham church-yard) loved--like many another goodcreature--good ale sometimes a trifle too well; and the orders she gavewhen ale had been plentiful did not always consort with her less-mellowinjunctions. In no vulgar directness, but with a sarcasm which Mrs.Smilker felt without understanding, Sophy would point out theseinconsistencies. Angered and humiliated, fearful too, perhaps, that hersubordinate would let the secret out, Mrs. Smilker made haste to havethe first word with the powers; and against the word of the cook theword of the cook-maid weighed as naught. After smaller troubles of thisorigin there had come a sort of crisis to-day. The longest of longlectures had been read to Sophy by mistress and repeated (slightlycondensed) by master; then she was sent away to think it over; an abjectapology to outraged Mrs. Smilker must be forthcoming, or banishment wasthe decree. Informed of this ultimatum, Sophy went out and hung aboutthe avenue, hoping for Julia to appear. Soon Julia came and heard thestory. She had indignation in readiness, and--what was more to thepurpose--a plan. Soon Sophy's eyes grew bright.

  Into this storm-tossed house came Lady Meg and her spaniels. This unkindname, derived at first from the size and shape of Mr. Pindar's ears(they were large, and hung over at the top), had been stretched toinclude Mr. Pikes also, with small loss of propriety. Both gentlemenwere low of stature, plump of figure, hairy on the face; both followedobediently at the heels of commanding Lady Meg. The amenities of theluncheon-table opened hearts. Very soon the tale of Sophy's iniquitieswas revealed; incidentally, and unavoidably if Sophy's heinous faultwere to appear in its true measure, the tally of the Brownlows'benevolence was reckoned. But Mrs. Brownlow won small comfort from LadyMeg: she got a stiff touch of the truth.

  "Ran in and out of the drawing-room!" she said. "Did she? The truth is,Lizzie, you've spoiled her, and now you're angry with her for beingspoiled."

  "What is she now, Mrs. Brownlow?" asked Pindar, with a sly intention.Was this Percival's deuced pretty girl?

  "She works in the kitchen, Mr. Pindar."

  "The girl!" his eyes signalled to Mr. Pikes. "Let Lady Meg see her," heurged, insinuatingly. "She has a wonderful way with girls."

  "I don't want to see her; and I know your game, Pindar," said Lady Meg.

  "I'm afraid she must go," sighed Mrs. Brownlow. Her husband said, morerobustly, that such an event would be a good riddance--a sayingrepeated, with the rest of the conversation, by the butler (one WilliamByles, still living) to the gratified ears of Mrs. Smilker in thekitchen.

  "But I'm not easy about her future. She's an odd child, and looks it."

  "Pretty?" This from Mr. Pindar.

  "Well, I don't know. Striking-looking, you'd rather say, perhaps, Mr.Pindar."

  "Let her go her own way. We've talked quite enough about her." Lady Megsounded decisive--and not a little bored.

  "And then"--Mrs. Brownlow made bold to go on for a moment--"such a funnymark! Many people wouldn't like it, I'm sure."

  Lady Meg turned sharply on her. "Mark? What do you mean? What mark?"

  "A mark on her face, you know. A round, red mark--"

  "Big as a threepenny bit, pretty nearly," said the Squire.

  "Where?"

  "On her cheek."

  "Where is the girl?" asked Lady Meg. Her whole demeanor had changed, herbored air had vanished. "She seemed fair excited," Mr. Byles reports.Then she turned to the said Byles: "Find out where that girl is, and letme know. Don't tell her anything about it. I'll go to her."

  "But let me send for her--" began the Squire, courteously.

  "No, give me my own way. I don't want her frightened."

  The Squire gave the orders she desired, and the last Mr. Byles heard ashe left the room was from Lady Meg:

  "Marks like that a
lways mean something--eh, Pindar?"

  No doubt Mr. Pindar agreed, but his reply is lost.

  The girls in the avenue had made their plan. Sophy would not bow herhead to Mrs. Smilker, nor longer eat the bread of benevolence embitteredby servitude. She would go with Julia; she, too, would tread theboards--if only she could get her feet on them; and when did any girlseriously doubt her ability to do that? The pair were gay and laughing,when suddenly through the gate came Lady Meg and the spaniels--Lady Megahead as usual, and with a purposeful air.

  "Who are they?" cried Sophy.

  Hazleby is but twelve miles from Morpingham. Julia had been over to seethe big house, and had sighted Lady Meg in the garden.

  "It's Lady Margaret Duddington," she whispered, rather in a fright.There was time for no more. Lady Meg was upon them. Sophy was identifiedby her dress, and, to Lady Meg's devouring eyes, by the mark.

  "You're the girl who's been behaving so badly?" she said.

  Seeing no profit in arguing the merits, Sophy answered "Yes."

  At this point Julia observed one old gentleman nudge the other andwhisper something; it is morally certain that Pindar whispered to Pikes:"Percival's girl!"

  "You seem to like your own way. What are you going to do? Say you'resorry?"

  "No. I'm not sorry. I'm going away."

  "Come here, girl, let me look at you."

  Sophy obeyed, walking up to Lady Meg and fixing her eyes on her face.She was interested, not frightened, as it seemed. Lady Meg looked longat her.

  "Going away? Where to?"

  Julia spoke up. "She's coming with me, please, Lady Margaret." Julia, itwould seem, was a little frightened.

  "Who are you?"

  "Julia Robins. My mother lives there." She pointed to Woodbine Cottage."I--I'm on the stage--"

  "Lord help you!" remarked Lady Meg, disconcertingly.

  "Not at all!" protested Julia, her meaning plain, her expression of itfaulty. "And I--I'm going to help her to--to get an engagement. We'refriends."

  "What's she going to do with that on the stage?" Lady Meg's forefingeralmost touched the mark.

  "Oh, that's all right, Lady Margaret. Just a little cold cream andpowder--"

  "Nasty stuff!" said Lady Meg.

  A pause followed, Lady Meg still studying Sophy's face. Then, withoutturning round, she made a remark obviously addressed to the gentlemenbehind her:

  "I expect this is Percival's young person."

  "Without a doubt," said Pikes.

  "And Percival was right about her, too," said Pindar.

  "Think so? I ain't sure yet," said Lady Meg. "And at any rate I don'tcare twopence about that. But--" A long pause marked a renewed scrutiny."Your name's Sophy, isn't it?"

  "Yes." Sophy hesitated, then forced out the words: "Sophy Grouch."

  "Grouch?"

  "I said Grouch."

  "Humph! Well, Sophy, don't go on the stage. It's a poor affair, thestage, begging Miss Julia's pardon--I'm sure she'll do admirably at it.But a poor affair it is. There's not much to be said for the realthing--but it's a deal better than the stage, Sophy."

  "The real thing?" Julia saw Sophy's eyes grow thoughtful.

  "The world--places--London--Paris--men and women--Lord help them! Comewith me, and I'll show you all that."

  "What shall I do if I come with you?"

  "Do? Eat and drink, and waste time and money, like the rest of us. Eh,Pindar?"

  "Of course," said Mr. Pindar, with a placid smile.

  "I sha'n't be a--a servant again?"

  "Everybody in my house is a slave, I'm told, but you won't be more of aslave than the rest."

  "Will you have me taught?"

  Lady Meg looked hard at her. For the first time she smiled, rathergrimly. "Yes, I'll have you taught, and I'll show you the Queen ofEngland, and, if you behave yourself, the Emperor of the French--Lordhelp him!"

  "Not unless she behaves herself!" murmured Mr. Pindar.

  "Hold your tongue, Pindar! Now, then, what do you say? No, wait aminute; I want you to understand it properly." She became silent for amoment. Julia was thinking her a very rude woman; but, since Mr. Pindardid not mind, who need?

  Lady Meg resumed. "I won't make an obligation of you--I mean, I won't bebound to you; and you sha'n't be bound to me. You'll stay with me aslong as you like, or as long as I like, as the case may be. If you wantto go, put your visiting-card--yes, you'll have one--in an envelope andsend it to me. And if I want you to go, I'll put a hundred-pound note inan envelope and send it to you--upon which you'll go, and no reasonsgiven! Is it agreed?"

  "It sounds all right," said Sophy.

  "Did you always have that mark on your cheek?"

  "Yes, always. Father told me so."

  "Well, will you come?"

  Sophy was torn. The stage was very attractive, and the love she had forJulia Robins held her as though by a cord. But was the stage a poorthing? Was that mysterious "real thing" better? Though even of that thisstrange woman spoke scornfully. Already there must have been someunderground channel of understanding between them; for Sophy knew thatLady Meg was more than interested in her--that she was actually excitedabout her; and Lady Meg, in her turn, knew that she played a good cardwhen she dangled before Sophy's eyes the Queen of England and theEmperor of the French--though even then came that saving "Lord helphim!" to damp an over-ardent expectation.

  "Let me speak to Julia," said Sophy. Lady Meg nodded; the girls linkedarms and walked apart. Pindar came to Lady Meg's elbow.

  "Another whim!" said he, in a low voice. Pikes was looking round theview with a kind of vacant contentment.

  "Yes," she said. His lips moved. "I know what you said. You said: 'Youold fool!' Pindar."

  "Never, on my life, my lady!" They seemed more friends now thanpatroness and client. Few saw them thus, but Pindar told Dunstanbury,and the old gentleman was no liar.

  "Give me one more!" she whispered, plainly excited. "That mark must meansomething. It may open a way."

  "For her?" he asked, smiling.

  "It must for her. It may for me."

  "A way where?"

  "To knowledge--knowledge of the unknown. They may speak through her!"

  "Lady Meg! Lady Meg! And if they don't, the hundred-pound note! It'svery cruel."

  "Who knows?--who knows, Pindar? Fate has her ways."

  He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Not half as amusing as yourladyship's!"

  Sophy, twenty yards off, flung her arms round Julia. The embrace waslong; it spoke farewell. Lady Meg's eyes brightened. "She's coming withme," she said. Pindar shrugged his shoulders again and fell back toheel. Sophy walked briskly up.

  "I'll come, my lady," she said.

  "Good. To-morrow afternoon--to London. Mrs. Brownlow has the address.Good-bye." She turned abruptly on her heel and marched off, her retinuefollowing.

  Julia came to Sophy.

  "We can write," she said. "And she's right. You must be for the realthing, Sophy!"

  "My dear, my dear!" murmured Sophy, half in tears. "Yes, we must write."She drew back and stood erect. "It's all very dark," she said. "But Ilike it. London--and Paris! On the Seine!" Old lessons came back withnew import now.

  "The Emperor of the French!" Julia mocked--with tears in her eyes.

  A sudden thought occurred to Sophy. "What did she mean by 'Percival'syoung person'? Is his name Percival?"

  Julia gave a little cry. "Lord Dunstanbury's? Yes. You've seen himagain?"

  She drew out the story. It made the sorrow of parting half forgotten.

  "You owe this to him, then! How romantic!" was actress Julia'sconclusion--in part a true one, no doubt. But Sophy, looking deeper,fingered the Red Star. She had tracked the magnet of Lady Meg's regard,the point of her interest, the pivot of decision for that mind ofwhims.