"All right, I don't mind. In fact, I suppose
I'd rather have it that way."
"Why?" she asked curiously. But he did
not answer her. He just sat there, frowning thoughtfully, and evidently turning
over the offer in his mind.
"Geoffrey, you will at least consider it, won't
you?" she said pleadingly. "It was so well meant."
"I am considering it, " he assured her.
"Not, so much for the noble motives behind the offer as because it is
something I've wanted for years. He's right, of course. With reasonable luck, it
would alter, my whole position." A light of hope and excitement shone in
Geoffrey's eyes. A light she had not often seen there, for life had not handed
him many of these
unexpected chances.
"Oh, darling, " she put out her hand and
stroked his arm, "I wish you could have the break you deserve, at
last."
"I wish I need not owe the possibility of it
to Franklin Lowell, " he replied, with a slight face, but he put his hand
over hers and pressed her fingers.
"Anyway, I shan't look at it that way. I'll
consider that I owe the chance to you." He drew her against him and kissed
her. "For the offer was made to you, for the very good reason that you're
a darling."
She laughed and returned his kiss. This was not the
moment to split hairs about the exact reasons which lay behind Franklin
Lowell's offer. It was enough that Geoffrey seemed prepared to accept it. And
his ring was on her finger. Beverley looked down at it now, spreading out her fingers,
the better to see the sparkle of the stones and the curious and beautiful
arrangement of the
setting.
"It's the nicest ring anyone ever had, "
she said.
"Be sure you wear it on
Saturday at Lady Wel
man's dance. I
want everyone to know we are engaged, " Geoffrey declared.
"But of course! I'll wear it always now, "
Beverley declared. And although she did not know it, there was something almost
defiant in her tone.
Then, as they got up to retrace their steps home
wards, she said,
"May I tell Franklin
Lowell that the offer is accepted? I think he would like to know."
"Yes. Why not? But, " Geoffrey looked
amused again, and just a little curious, "are you in regular contact with
him? When are you likely to see him?"
."Oh, I don't know. Perhaps not until the
dance. But if I do see him before then, I'd like to be able
to say something."
"I leave it to you, " Geoffrey told her
lightly. "It's between you and him. And, since I'm not a jealous
or suspicious sort of fellow, I daresay it's
better that
way."
She smiled, because she knew that was meant to be a
joke. But the words "jealousy" and "suspicion" had too
personal a significance for her to find them really
amusing.
Beverley had not really expected to see Franklin Lowell
before the dance on the Saturday. But on
Thursday
evening there was a knock at the front door,
and when she went to answer
it, she found to her surprise that the master of Eithorpe Hall was standing outside
with a basket of fruit in one hand and a raffia bag which seemed to contain a
couple of plump chickens in the other.
"Hello, " he said. "I was passing
this way and thought your mother might like these."
"But how kind of you!" Beverley pulled
the door open wide. "Do come in, won't you? or are you in a hurry?"
He was not, it seemed, in a hurry, for he came in immediately.
And as Aunt Ellen was standing in the
kitchen
doorway, somewhat open-mouthed at all this,
he said, "May I bring
these in?" and marched straight into the kitchen and deposited the fruit
and chickens on her well-scrubbed table, much to her consternation. "Oh, really,
" Aunt Ellen fluttered about, flicking non-existent dust off her bright
pots and pans, "it isn't very fitting. The kitchen's in such a mess."
This was a palpable misstatement, since everything was
always in apple-pie order wherever Aunt Ellen ruled. And, glancing round, Franklin
remarked, "It all looks fine to me. I like a good cottage
kitchen." And, sitting down on the side of
the table,
he swung one leg and smiled at Aunt Ellen, as though he found
her young and beautiful.
Now, people often told Aunt Ellen how capable she
was and how they didn't know what her sister and niece would do without her.
But no one ever looked at her as though she were young and beautiful. And
Franklin Lowell's smiling glance had the most extraordinary effect upon her.
She bridled slightly and coloured up, and then she said,
in the softest and most friendly tone Beverley
had ever heard from her,
"Well, if you like it, you're
welcome to stay in it, while I go and see if my sister's awake and ready to see
anyone."
"Don't disturb her on my account, "
Franklin said. But she had already fluttered off, with an air of wanting
nothing more than to please the handsome male thing in her kitchen.
To his, lasting credit, he made no attempt to exchange
a slyly amused smile with Beverley. He merely remarked, "Your aunt is very
kind and hospitable."
"Yes, " agreed Beverley. And to her
lasting credit, she did not see fit to add that Aunt Ellen was not always that
way.
Instead, she took the opportunity to say, "I
spoke to Geoffrey last night about your very kind offer."
"Oh, yes?" He shot her a bright, enquiring
glance.
"And, though at first I think he had the
feeling that he ought not to accept so much from anyone, " thus did she
tactfully recast Geoffrey's early objections , "in the end he was unable
to refuse such a wonderful, generous suggestion."
"Good!"
"I can't thank you enough." She held out
her hand to him. "We can't thank you enough."
"You've done so already, " he took her
hand and held it lightly in his for a moment. "You're a sweet child. We'll
go into details about the whole scheme
sometime
next week."
"But we aren't being married for some while.
There isn't any hurry, " she assured him.
"On the contrary, I think it's the kind, of
present which is best given as soon as it can be arranged, " he
replied. "If we can turn your Geoffrey into a
successful
and prosperous portrait painter before your wedding day, so
much the better."
She laughed incredulously. "You make it all
sound like something out of a fairy story, " she declared. And then Aunt
Ellen came back to say that her sister was awake and would be very pleased to
see him.
He stayed no longer than ten minutes, since it was obvious
that Mrs. Farman had had enough visitors that day already. But, even so, he
left behind him the strong impression that an energetic and kindly wind had
blown through the house.
"It's to be hoped' that girl is good enough
for him, " was Aunt Ellen's singular comment when he had gone.
"Who? Sara Wayne? She could hardly be prettier
or more charming, " Beverley declared.
"Looks aren't everything, " replied Aunt
Ellen, and it was obvious that she had returned to normal.
On Saturday evening, Beverley dressed for the dance
with a light heart and a sense of excited anticipation. It was not often that
treats of this kind came her way. And, although she had been so busy with dresses
for the Wayne girls, she had still found time to make a new dress for herself.
It was of honey-coloured-organdie, almost the same
shade as her hair, and through it ran a line of shining gold, which caught the
light as the skirt spread in billowing folds from an incredibly slender
waist-line.
"You look adorable my darling, " her
mother declared, when Beverley presented herself for inspection.
"If I were a young man, I'd fall in love with
you on sight No wonder Geoffrey wants to marry you. It was a lovingly
prejudiced verdict, Beverley knew,
but it
put her in the most delicious state of content
and did lovely things for
her social morale. Then Geoffrey arrived, looking extraordinarily handsome in the
unfamiliar grandeur of evening clothes, and his
admiration was at least as gratifying as her mother s.
Geoffrey had, in Aunt Ellen's words, done the thin"
properly, " and they had a hired car to take them to the hideous, but
conveniently large mansion where Lady Welman's dance was to take place.
It was, as is usually the case at a charity dance quite
a mixed gathering, but there were few people there whom Beverley knew, and she
was pleased to be greeted with something like enthusiasm by the party from Huntingford.
Both the Wayne girls looked breathtakingly lovely in
their new dresses and, with a certain amount of innocent pride, Beverley
realized that their clothes were commanding almost as much attention as their charming
selves. Sara was escorted by Franklin Lowell, of course, and Madeleine was
partnered by her
brother. , .
Beverley had not seen much of Andrew Wayne since
that first afternoon, when he had driven her from the bus-stop to the house, and
she strongly suspected that he could not quite remember who she was However, he
firmly claimed acquaintance with her and evidently had no intention of being
regarded as anything but an old friend. A tribute to her appearance which she
found both amusing and exhilarating.
It was the most enchanting evening, so far as
Beverley was concerned. Geoffrey, with whom she
had
hardly ever had an opportunity to dance before, proved to be an
admirable partner, and she also found herself in demand with several other
people, including
both Franklin Lowell and
Andrew Wayne. In fact, in a modest way, she was a success. A heady and delightful
experience against which none of us are
proof.
Half-way through the evening she was dancing with Andrew
Wayne when he said to her, "You know, it wasn't until I had a chance to
consult
Madeleine that I really knew who you
were. And I can't tell you how that tantalizing bit of mystery added charm
to
your presence."
"Thank you." Beverley smiled at him.
"I thought you didn't recognize me. I hope the illusion isn't spoiled now
you know me."
"On the contrary. I'm now intrigued to know
how anyone so decorative can also be clever."
"Clever?"
"Well, you made those gorgeous dresses that my
sisters are wearing, didn't you?"
"Oh, that? yes. I'm a good dressmaker. I don't
know that I'd claim more." Beverley laughed.
"But you designed the
dresses too, didn't you?"
"In a way, yes. They said
what they wanted, and I
turned their
wishes into practical form."
"You know, you shouldn't be hiding your light
under a bushel in a remote village, " Andrew Wayne declared
earnestly. "You ought to start up on your own
in
town, "
"Without capital?" She smiled at him and
shook her head.
"Well, then, you ought to team up with one of
the big
fabric firms, in some way." He
expertly-swung her clear of a couple who seemed to be in some difficulties.
"That's more easily said
than done, " Beverley told
him, but
she was aware of a glow of gratification that anyone should rate her work so
highly.
"I'm going to speak to my uncle about you, "
declared
Andrew Wayne. "He's on the importing
end of the line himself, but he has all sorts of connections. He's always telling
me, in a cross sort of way, to prove my initiative
and bring him in news
of something or someone good
in the trade.
I'm going to tell him about you."
"No? Really? are you?" In her surprise
and pleasure, Beverley almost halted, with the result that the clumsy couple, who
were still trundling along in the rear, bumped into them, a heavy foot
descended on the edge of her dress, and there was a small but ominous sound of
tearing.
"Oh, excuse me!"
"No, it was my fault, I stopped, "
"I say, terribly sorry, any
damage done?"
There was a flurry of excuses and apology, which dissolved
as the couple were swept on again. But Beverley knew too much about the
construction of her own dress not to realize that some running repairs had probably
become necessary.
"I'm afraid I'll have to
drop out for a few minutes."
"Why? Did that clumsy oaf tear your
dress?" Her partner guided her skillfully to the side of the room.
"Only a few vital gathers at the waist."
She laughed philosophically. "But I'll have to go to the dressing room and
catch them up again. Too bad the conversation was getting extraordinarily
interesting."
"We'll continue it later, " he assured
her. "I remember exactly where we left off."
And then she slipped away upstairs to the
improvised dressing-room where a severe but efficient elderly maid of Lady
Welman's not only produced the necessary needle and thread, but insisted on
doing the repair for
her.