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"But I cannot sit here patiently and see you behave in so rude a way to those four ladies who honour you by being your tenants."
"Say I feel greatly surprised that the rent was not sent over yesterday, my dear," says Sir John, without taking any notice of his son.
"Yes, uncle," says Miss Virginia. She always called him "uncle," though he wasn't any relation.
"It's shameful!" cried Mr Barclay. "The result will be that they will give you notice and go."
"Good job, too," said Sir John. "I don't like them, and I wish they had not come."
"How can you be so unreasonable, father?" cried the young man hotly.
"Look here, Bar," says Sir John--("Fold that letter and seal it with my seal, 'Ginny")--"look here, Bar."
I glanced at the young man, and saw him pa.s.s his hand across his forehead so roughly that the big signet ring he wore--the old-fas.h.i.+oned one Sir John gave him many years before, and which fitted so tightly now that it wouldn't come over the joint--made quite a red mark on his brow.
"I don't know what you are going to say, father," cried Mr Barclay quickly; "but, for Heaven's sake, don't treat me as a boy any longer, and I implore you not to send that letter."
There was a minute's silence, during which I could hear Mr Barclay breathing hard. Then Sir John began again. "Look here, sir," he said.
"Over and over again, you've wanted to go away and travel, and I've said I didn't want you to go. During the past three months you've altered your mind."
"Altered my mind, sir?" says the young man sharply.
"Yes, sir; and I've altered mine. That's fair. Now, you don't want to go, and I want you to."
"Uncle!"
"Have you done that letter, my pet?--Yes? That's well. Now, you stand there and take care of me, for fear Mr Barclay should fly in a pa.s.sion."
"Sir, I asked you not to treat me like a boy," says Mr Barclay bitterly.
"I'm not going to," says Sir John, as he sat playing with Miss Virginia's hand, while I could see that the poor darling's face was convulsed, and she was trying to hide the tears which streamed down.
"I'm going to treat you as a man. You can have what money you want. Be off for a year's travel. Hunt, shoot, go round the world, what you like; but don't come back here for a twelvemonth.--Burdon, take that letter over to the Misses Mimpriss, and wait for an answer."
I took the note across, wondering what would be said while I was gone, and knowing why Sir John wanted his son to go as well as he did, and Miss Virginia too, poor thing. The knocker seemed to make the house opposite echo very strangely, as I thumped; but when the door was opened in a few minutes, everything in the hall seemed very proper and prim, while the maid who came looked as stiff and disagreeable as could be.
"For Miss Mimpriss, from Sir John Drinkwater," I said; "and I'll wait for an answer."
"Very well," says the woman shortly.
"I'll wait for an answer," I said, for she was shutting the door.
"Yes; I heard," she says, and the door was shut in my face.
"Hang all old maids!" I said. "They needn't be afraid of me;" and there I waited till I heard steps again and the door was opened; and the ill-looking woman says in a snappish tone: "Miss Adela Mimpriss's compliments, and she'll come across directly."
"Any one would think I was a wild beast," I said to myself, as I went back and gave my message, finding all three in the room just as I had left them when I went away.
STORY TWO, CHAPTER FIVE.
JAMES BURDON SMELLS FIRE.
Mr Barclay followed me out, and as soon as we were in the hall, "Burdon," he says, "you have a bunch of small keys, haven't you?"
"Yes, Master Barclay, down in my pantry."
"Lend them to me: I want to try if one of them will fit a lock of mine."
He followed me down; and I was just handing them to him, when there was a double knock and a ring, and I saw him turn as red as a boy of sixteen found out at some trick.
I hurried up to open the door, leaving him there, and found that it was Miss Adela Mimpriss.
"Will you show me in to Sir John?" she says, smiling; and I did so, leaving them together; and going down-stairs, to see Mr Barclay standing before the fire and looking very strange and stern. He did not say anything, but walked up-stairs again; and I could hear him pacing up and down the hall for quite a quarter of an hour before the bell rang; and then I got up-stairs to find him talking very earnestly to Miss Adela Mimpriss, and she all the time shaking her head and trying to pull away her hand.
I pretended not to see, and went into the dining-room slowly, to find Miss Virginia down on her knees before Sir John, and him with his two hands lying upon her bent head, while she seemed to be sobbing.
"I did not ring, Burdon," he said huskily.
"Beg pardon, Sir John; the bell rang."
"Ah, yes. I forgot--only to show that lady out."
I left the room; and as I did so, I found the front door open, and Mr Barclay on the step, looking across at Miss Adela Mimpriss, who was just tripping up the steps of the house opposite; and I saw her use a latchkey, open the door, and look round as she was going in, to give Mr Barclay a laughing look; and then the door was closed, and my young master shut ours.
That day and the next pa.s.sed quietly enough; but I could see very plainly that there was something wrong, for there was a cold way of speaking among our people in the dining-room, the dinner going off terribly quiet, and Sir John afterwards not seeming to enjoy his wine; while Miss Virginia sat alone in the drawing-room over her tea; and Mr Barclay, after giving me back my keys, went up-stairs, and I know he was looking out, for Miss Adela Mimpriss was sitting at the window opposite, and I saw her peep up twice.
This troubled me a deal, for, after all those years, I never felt like a servant, but as if I was one of them; and it made me so upset, that, as I lay in my bed in the pantry that night wondering whether Mr Barclay would go away and forget all about the young lady opposite, and come back in a year and be forgiven, and marry Miss Virginia, I suddenly thought of my keys.
"That's it," I said. "It was to try the lock of his portmanteau. He means to go, and it will be all right, after all."
But somehow, I couldn't sleep, but lay there pondering, till at last I began to sniff, and then started up in bed, thinking of Edward Gunning.
"There's something wrong somewhere," I said to myself, for quite plainly I could smell burning--the oily smell as of a lamp, a thing I knew well enough, having trimmed hundreds.
At first I thought I must be mistaken; but no--there it was, strong; and jumping out of bed, I got a light; and to show that I was not wrong, there was my cat Tom looking excited and strange, and trotting about the pantry in a way not usual unless he had heard a rat.
I dressed as quickly as I could, and went out into the pa.s.sage. All dark and silent, and the smell very faint. I went up-stairs and looked all about; but everything was as I left it; and at last I went down again to the pantry, thinking and wondering, with Tom at my heels, to find that the smell had pa.s.sed away. So I sat and thought for a bit, and then went to bed again; but I didn't sleep a wink, and somehow all this seemed to me to be very strange.
STORY TWO, CHAPTER SIX.
A SUDDEN CHANGE.
If any one says I played spy, I am ready to speak up pretty strongly in my self-defence, for my aim always was to do my duty by Sir John my master; but I could not help seeing two or three things during the next fortnight, and they all had to do with a kind of telegraphing going on from our house to the one over the way, where Miss Adela generally appeared to be on the watch; and her looks always seemed to me to say: "No; you mustn't think of such a thing," and to be inviting him all the time. Then, all at once I thought I was wrong, for I went up as usual at half-past seven to take Mr Barclay's boots and his clothes which had been brought down the night before, after he had dressed for dinner. I tapped and went in, just as I'd always done ever since he was a boy, and went across to the window and drew the curtains. "Nice morning, Master Barclay," I said. "Half-past--" There I stopped, and stared at the bed, which all lay smooth and neat, as the housemaid had turned it down, for no one had slept in it that night. I was struck all of a heap, and didn't know what to think. To me it was just like a silver spoon or fork being missing, and setting one's head to work to think whether it was anywhere about the house.
He hadn't stopped to take his wine with Sir John after dinner; but that was nothing fresh, for they'd been very cool lately. Then I hadn't seen him in the drawing-room; but that was nothing fresh neither, for he had avoided Miss Virginia for some little time.