Mrs. Dorriman Volume Iii Part 20

"I cannot understand your caring for going out; you never meet a soul you know. Why do you go?" cried poor Lady Lyons at last.

"I go because it is so good for me--and for you too."

"So good for you! So good for me!"

"Yes, it is a sort of penance for you, sitting there and not amusing yourself; and, as for me," said Grace, lightly, "after this I can never set too high a value on myself! It is mortification all round."

"You say the oddest things."

"I am glad I am original; and now, Lady Lyons, I want to arrange some business, and when that is done I want to go to Scotland, but I must finish my business first."

"How long will it take?" asked Lady Lyons.

"I cannot tell. I want to make my will."

"My dear!"

"Is that another original idea? People have done such a thing before.

Why do you particularly want to know about the time, Lady Lyons? You very clever people always have a motive in asking anything."

"It is about the rooms, my dear, and it is about my son," and Lady Lyons looked at Grace to see whether this mention of her son's name had any interest for her.

Grace hardly heard her. She was conscious herself of being very much worse in health than she had been when she arrived in London. It was true she had met many mortifications, but she did not care much about them. She had seen something of that whirl she had longed to be in, though she was conscious she had only been at the edge and looking on from a distance. The disenchantment, however, was complete; she saw that, unless living and moving amongst people and having them as friends, there was no pleasure in going to any place, however brilliant; and she was struck with the higher tone of many of the people she met, who did not live only for pleasure, but who took interest in other things, and who accepted "excitement" as an interruption, even if a pleasant interruption, to their usual pursuits, and did not make it their business. She grew ashamed of the frivolous aims and small ambitions she had, and, though she did not own it to herself, she wished she was more like Margaret.

Sir Albert called one day to say good-bye. He was going abroad. He wanted very much to say something to Grace, but he wanted to speak to her alone, and Lady Lyons was always there.

That good woman's way of thanking him for the trouble he had taken to promote their amus.e.m.e.nt was very amusing.

"Yes, indeed, Sir Albert, but for you, as I always say to Miss Rivers, no supper, no partners, a hard bench and a crowd. Oh, dear! I shall never forget it, never! Then you came, and that supper, and the d.u.c.h.ess was civil, and I had a pleasant conversation, and all was different."

"I am very glad I was able to be of use. The d.u.c.h.ess is always kind."

"Yes, she is very kind--though I bowed to her yesterday and she did not know me; perhaps, as I had a very thick veil on she could not see me,"

Lady Lyons added reflectively.

"Perhaps not."

"There is only one thing, Sir Albert, if you don't mind my saying it--I was so surprised to see her so plain."

"So plain! We think, in the family, that my aunt, for her age, is very good-looking; she has such a pleasant face."

"Oh! I don't mean plain in the sense of ugly," Lady Lyons said, in a great hurry, "but plain in her dress. She had no jewels on, not even a diamond ring, for I looked to see when she took off her gloves at supper."

"Some people think that the hostess ought to be unadorned. I rather like the sentiment."

"I don't the least understand it," said Lady Lyons, bluntly; "when I used to have company I put on my smartest gown."

"I suppose the d.u.c.h.ess has no smartest gowns," he answered laughing.

"Now that's nonsense, Sir Albert. But I should like to know the 'sentiment,' as you call it, though, for my own part, I cannot see any connection between sentiment and clothes."

"I do," said Grace; "if I am in a very good temper I can wear blue or white with a quiet conscience; if I am in a rage I wear red."

"My dear Miss Rivers! You do say such funny things."

"I shall then avoid speaking to you if I see you in a red gown," laughed Sir Albert.

"You had better----but please enlighten Lady Lyons, she is dying to know why one's 'best' gowns should not be aired on grand occasions."

"I fancy the idea is that it is better taste not to outs.h.i.+ne one's guests," Sir Albert said; "the d.u.c.h.ess has such magnificent jewels that it would be easy to outdo every one else."

"That is rather a delicate nice feeling," said Grace, warmly.

"But I would rather wear my jewels, if I had any," said Lady Lyons. "Sir Albert, did you notice my b.u.t.terfly the other night? No! how strange!

Well, never mind! I will go and get it for you, it has a history."

She left the room, and Sir Albert seized his opportunity. "Miss Rivers,"

he began, hurriedly, "you have some idea, have you not, of what your sister is to me?"

"I think I have" said Grace demurely.

"Will you do me a very great kindness?" he said, earnestly. "Will you send me a line now and again? All that dreadful time the only plan, for _her_ sake, was to keep away."

"I suppose it was," said Grace; "it must have been difficult."

"It has been very difficult."

"And when I send you this line, 'now and again,' am I to say anything to her?"

"I see no reason you should not let her know you are so kind as to write to me," he answered.

"Nor do I. I only wanted to know."

"If at any time you think she would care to see me--if I could ever be of use--you will let me know?"

"I will. Not that sending a letter to Norway or Finland, let alone the Antipodes, holds out much prospect of your being able to come within a reasonable time," she added, laughing.

"Distance sounds more than it is," he answered, composedly, "and I may not go quite so far as the Antipodes."

"Or Norway?" she said, mischievously.

He coloured vividly.

"Miss Rivers, I mean to put the sea between us, till...."

"Till she has forgotten, in some measure," said Grace, kindly. "I think you are right; because, just now, everything is so terrible to her. She might think happiness in connection with you quite out of the question; and if you came forward just now she might put herself into a position from which it might be difficult for her to draw back. I think you must wait till she has quite recovered, and then she may become conscious of a great blank in her life, and wish for you."

"G.o.d grant it may be so!" he said, fervently.