Thereby Hangs a Tale Part 49

"Do you know 'Won't you tell me why, Robin?'" said Sir Felix, beaming down at the little maiden.

"Yes," said Fin, sharply.

"Then do sing it."

"I shall sing 'Maggie's Secret' instead," said Fin, sending the colour flus.h.i.+ng into her sister's face, as she rattled it out, with tremendous aplomb given to the words--

So I tell them they needn't come wooing to me.

Meanwhile, Trevor went on pouring his troubles into Lady Rea's attentive ears, as Sir Hampton prosed, Aunt Matty dozed with a smile on her countenance, Pepine snoozed in her lap in a satin tent made of his mistress's fan, and Poor Tiny longed for the hour when she could be alone.

"Lady Rea," said Trevor, at last, "I will not attempt to conceal my feelings--I think you can guess them, when I tell you that my trouble is that your daughter pa.s.sed me in the wood talking to--questioning the little girl I have mentioned, and I read that in her face which seemed to say that she despised me."

"Then that's what's made Tiny so low-spirited for the last few days,"

said Lady Rea.

"G.o.d bless you for that!" said Trevor, in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice, "you've made me very happy. Lady Rea, will you take my part? If I have no opportunity of explaining, will you do it for me? I am very blunt, I know--recollect I am a sailor; so forgive me if I tell you that since I first met Miss Rea, I have scarcely ceased to think about her."

"I'm not cross with you for it," said Lady Rea, "and I will tell Tiny; but you mustn't ask me to interfere--I couldn't think of doing so.

There," she whispered, "go and talk to her yourself."

And she gave the young fellow so pleasant a look, as their eyes met, that he knew that if the matter depended upon her, Tiny Rea would be his wife.

But there was no opportunity as yet, for Tiny had been unwillingly led to the piano, vacated by Fin, Sir Felix being b.u.t.tonholed by Sir Hampton, and Pratt taking his place, and talking to the sharp-tongued little maid in a way that made her exclaim--

"How solemn you are!"

"Hus.h.!.+" said Pratt. "Listen! What a sweet voice!"

"Yes, Tiny can sing nicely," replied Fin.

And they listened, as did Trevor, while, in a sweet, low voice, Tiny sang a pathetic old ballad with such pathos that a strangely sweet sense of melancholy crept over Trevor, and he stood gazing at her till the last note had ceased to thrill his nerves, when Vanleigh led her to her seat, and crossed to pay his court to Aunt Matty, awakened by the song.

"Now," whispered Lady Rea, "go and tell her how it was."

In strict obedience to the indiscreet advice, Trevor crossed to where Tiny was seated, offered his arm, and together they strolled into the handsome conservatory.

"Miss Rea," said Trevor, plunging at once in medias res, as Tiny made one or two constrained replies to his remarks, "I have been explaining to Lady Rea what trouble I am in."

"Trouble, Mr Trevor?" said Tiny, coldly.

"Yes: how I had ventured to hope that I had won the friends.h.i.+p of two ladies, and with the vanity, or weakness, of a sailor, I trusted that that friends.h.i.+p would ripen into something warmer."

"Mr Trevor," said Tiny, her voice trembling, "I must request--"

"Tiny, dear Tiny," cried Trevor, pa.s.sionately, "I may have but a few moments to speak to you. Don't misjudge me, I have explained all to Lady Rea, and she will tell you. If I am mad and vain in hoping, forgive me--I cannot help it, for I love you dearly; and this that I see--these attentions--these visits--madden me."

"Mr Trevor, pray--pray don't say more!" exclaimed Tiny, glancing in the direction of the drawing-room.

"I must--I cannot help it," he whispered, pa.s.sionately. "Tell me my love is without hope, and I will go back to sea and trouble you no more; but give me one little word, tell me if only that we are friends again, and that you will not misjudge me, or think of me as you did the other day in the wood. Tell me--confess this: you thought me wrong?"

"I had no right to judge you, Mr Trevor," said Tiny, in a trembling voice; "but--but my sister--and I--"

"Tiny," whispered Trevor, catching her land in his, "my darling, I could not have a thought that you might not read. Give me one word--one look.

Heaven bless you for this."

Young men are so thoughtless, so full of the blind habits of the sand-hiding ostrich at such times, and so wrapped up was Richard Trevor, sailor and natural unspoiled man, in the soft, gentle look directed at him from Tiny's timid, humid eyes, that, regardless of the fact that they were close to the drawing-room, the chances are that he might have gone farther than kissing the little blue-veined hand he held in his, had not, from behind a clump of camellias, a harsh voice suddenly exclaimed--

"Now, then, am I right?"

Sir Hampton Rea and Aunt Matty appeared upon the scene.

Dear Aunt Matty had had her way, and was satisfied. Quiet as she was, she had her suspicions of Trevor's earnest talk to Lady Rea; and when Vanleigh drew her attention to the fact that the two imprudent young people had strolled off into the conservatory, by saying, "I suppose Miss Rea finds the room too close?" she gave him a significant look.

"Sit down and hold Pepine for me, Captain Vanleigh," she said, in a low voice, "and I'll soon put a stop to that."

Vanleigh said something very naughty, sotto voce, and then, as he felt bound to flatter Aunt Matty, he seated himself, and nursed the wretched little dog, while Aunt Matty made her way to Sir Hampton, who was deep in a political speech, to which Sir Felix kept saying "Ya-as" and "Ver'

true," eyeing Fin the while through his gla.s.s.

Fin's sharp eyes detected something wrong, and she tried a flank movement.

"Go and tell my sister I want her directly, Mr Pratt," she said--"in the conservatory."

It was too late; Aunt Matty's forced march had done it.

"Eh! what? Er-rum!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sir Hampton.

Then he followed his sister out into the conservatory, where she made the before-mentioned remark, and Sir Hampton, turning port wine colour, caught his daughter by the wrist.

"Go to bed this instant!" he exclaimed, reverting in his rage to the punishment inflicted years before. "As to you, sir--"

"Excuse me, Sir Hampton," said Trevor, boldly.

"Let me speak," said Aunt Matty, with great dignity. "Hampton, this is neither the time nor the place to have words about the works of the wicked. I warned you, but you would not take heed. Valentina, you are not to go to bed, but to return to the drawing-room as if nothing had happened. Hampton, you must not disturb your other guests--the strangers sojourning in peace within your gates."

At a time like this Aunt Matty was too much for Sir Hampton. She had girded herself as she would have termed it; and when Aunt Matty girded herself her words were like a strong solution of tracts, and she became a sort of moral watering-pot, with which she sprinkled the wicked and quenched their anger. Sir Hampton never so much as said "Er-rum!" at such times, and now seeing the wisdom of her words, he picked two or three flowers, and walked back into the drawing-room with Tiny, the poor girl trying hard to conceal her agitation.

Trevor was about to follow, but Aunt Matty stopped him.

"Sit down there, young man," she said, severely.

"If you wish to speak to me, certainly," said Trevor, politely; "but what I have to say must be to Sir Hampton, with all respect to you."

"Sit down there for five minutes, young man, and then you can return."

Trevor fumed--the position was so ridiculous; but he accepted it, glancing the while at his watch, and then fighting hard to preserve his gravity before the stiff figure in whose presence he sat. For, in spite of the annoyance, a feeling of joyous hilarity had come upon the offender against decorum: he knew that Tiny loved him, and doubtless a few words of explanation would be listened to when Sir Hampton was cool, and then all would come right.