The Misses Mallett (The Bridge Dividing) Part 28

No expense and no trouble had been spared to justify the expectations of Radstowe. The antechamber was luxuriously carpeted, arm-chaired, cus.h.i.+oned, palmed and screened, and the hired flunkey at the ballroom door had a presence and a voice fitted for the occasion.

'Miss Mallett!' he bawled. 'Miss Sophia Mallett! Miss Rose Mallett!

Miss Henrietta Mallett!'

The moment had come. Henrietta lifted her head, settled her shoulders and prepared to meet the eyes of Francis Sales. The Malletts had arrived between the first and second dances and the guests sitting round the walls had an uninterrupted view of the stately entrance.

Mrs. Batty, in diamonds and purple satin, greeted the late-comers with enthusiasm and James Batty escorted Caroline and Sophia to arm-chairs that had all the appearance of thrones. Mrs. Batty patted Henrietta on the shoulder.

'Pretty dear,' she said. 'Here you are at last. There are a lot of boys with their programmes half empty till you come, and my Charles, too. Not that he's much for dancing. I've told him he must look after the ugly ones. We're going to have a quadrille for your aunts' sake!'

And then, whispering, she asked, 'What do you think of it? I said if we had it at all, we'd have it good.'

'It's gorgeous!' Henrietta said, and off the stage she had never seen a grander spectacle. The platform at the end of the room was banked with flowers and behind them uniformed and much-moustached musicians played with ardour, with rapture, their eyes closing sentimentally in the choicest pa.s.sages. Baskets of flowers hung from the chandeliers, the floor was polished to the slipperiness of ice and Mrs. Batty, on her hospitable journeys to and fro, was in constant danger of a fall.

The society of Radstowe, all in new garments, appeared to Henrietta of a dazzling brilliance, but she stood easily, holding her head high, as though she were well used to this kind of glory. Looking round, she saw Francis Sales leaning against a wall, talking to his partner and smiling with unnecessary amiability. A flame of jealousy flickered hotly through her body. How could he smile like that? Why did he not come to her? And then, in the pride of her secret love, she remembered that he dare not show his eagerness. They belonged to each other, they were alone in their love, and all these people, talking, laughing, fluttering fans, thinking themselves of immense importance, had no real existence. He and she alone of all that company existed with a fierceness that changed the sensuous dance-music into the cry of essential pa.s.sion.

Young men approached her and wrote their initials on her programme which was already marked with little crosses against the numbers she had promised to Francis Sales. Charles Batty, rather hot, anxious and glowering, arrived too late. His angry disgust, his sense of desertion, were beyond words. He stared at her. 'And my flowers,' he demanded.

'Charles, don't shout.'

'Where are my flowers? I sent some--roses and lilies and maidenhair.

Where are they?'

'I haven't seen them.'

'Ah, I suppose you didn't like them, but the girl in the shop told me they would be all right. How should I know?'

'I haven't seen them,' she repeated. Over his shoulder she saw the figure of Francis Sales coming towards her.

'I ordered them yesterday,' Charles continued loudly. 'I'll kill that girl. I'll go at once.'

'The shop will be shut,' Henrietta reminded him. 'Oh, do be quiet, Charles.' She turned with a smile for Francis.

'She hasn't a dance left,' Charles said.

'Mr. Sales took the precaution of booking them in advance,' Henrietta said lightly, and with a miserable gesture Charles went off, muttering, 'I hadn't thought of that. Why didn't some one tell me?'

-- 5

That ball was to be known in Nelson Lodge as the one that killed Miss Caroline, but Miss Caroline had her full share of pleasure out of it.

It was the custom in Radstowe to make much of Caroline and Sophia: they were respected and playfully loved and it was not only the middle-aged gentlemen who asked them to dance, and John and Charles Batty were not the only young ones who had the honour of leading them into the middle of the room, taking a few turns in a waltz and returning, in good order, to the throne-like arm-chairs. Francis Sales had their names on his programme, but with him they used the privilege of old friends and preferred to talk.

'You can keep your dancing for Rose and Henrietta,' Caroline said.

'He comes too late for me,' Rose said pleasantly. He gave her something remarkably like one of his old looks and she answered it with a grave one. There was gnawing trouble at her heart. She had watched his meeting with Henrietta. It had been wordless; everything was understood. She had also seen the unhappiness of Charles Batty, and, on an inspiration, she said to him, 'Charles, you must take pity on an old maid. I have all these dances to give away.'

For him this dance was to be remembered as the beginning of his friends.h.i.+p with Rose Mallett; but at the moment he was merely annoyed at being prevented from watching Henrietta's dark head appearing and disappearing among the other dancers like that of a bather in a rough sea. He said, 'Oh, thank you very much. Are you sure there's n.o.body else? But I suppose there can't be'; and holding her at arm's length, he ambled round her, treading occasionally on her toes. He apologized: he was no good at dancing: he hoped he had not hurt her slippers, or her feet.

She paused and looked down at them. 'You mustn't do that to Henrietta.

Her slippers are yellow and you would spoil them.'

'She isn't giving me a single dance!' he burst out. 'I asked her to, but I never thought I ought to get a promise. n.o.body told me. n.o.body tells me anything.'

An icily angry gentleman remonstrated with him for standing in the fairway and Rose suggested that they should sit down.

'You see, I'm no good. I can't dance. I can't please her.'

'Charles, you're still in the way. Let us go somewhere quiet and then you can tell me all about it.'

He took her to a small room leading from the big one. 'I'll shut the door,' he said, 'and then we shan't hear that hideous din.'

'It is a very good band.'

'It's profane,' Charles said wearily. 'Music--they call it music!' He was off at a great pace and she did not try to hold him in. She lay back in the big chair and seemed to study the toes on which Charles Batty had trampled. His voice rolled on like the sound of water, companionable and unanswerable. Suddenly his tone changed. 'Henrietta is very unkind to me.'

'Is there any reason why she shouldn't be?'

'I do everything I can think of. I've told her all about myself.'

'She would rather hear about herself.'

'I've done that, too. Perhaps I haven't done it enough. I've given her chocolates and flowers. What else ought I to do?'

Her voice, very calm and clear after his spluttering, said, 'Not too much.'

'Oh!' This was a new idea. 'Oh! I never thought of that. Why--'

She interrupted his usual cry. 'Women are naturally cruel.'

'Are they? I didn't know that either.' He swallowed the information visibly. She could almost see the process of digestion. 'Oh!' he said again.

'They don't mean to be. They are simply untouched by a love they don't return.' She added thoughtfully: 'And inclined to despise the lover.'

'That's it,' he mourned. 'She despises me.' And in a louder voice he demanded, not of Rose Mallett, but of the mysterious world in which he gropingly existed, 'Why should she?'

'She shouldn't, but perhaps you yourself are making a mistake.'

She heard indistinctly the word, 'Impossible.'

'You can't be sure.'

'I'm quite certain about that--about nothing else.' His big hands moved. 'I cling to that.'

'Then you must be ready to serve her. Charles, if I ever needed you--'

'I'd do anything for you because you're her aunt. And besides,' he said simply, 'you're rather like her in the face.'

'Thank you, but it's her you may have to serve--and not me. I want her to be happy. I don't know where her happiness is, but I know where it is not. Some day I may tell you.' She looked at him. He might be useful as an ally; she was sure he could be trusted. 'Promise you will do anything I ask for her sake.'