“Yes, indeed I do,” Rebecca said. “Shall I ring for tea,Maude? My throat is so dry I can hardly swallow.”Maude almost threw her embroidery onto the table beside her and leaped to her feet. “Oh,” she said, “howvery rag-mannered you must think me. I shall do it.”
The tea tray was brought into the room only a few minutes before the arrival of Harriet, Mr. Bartlett—andMr. Carver. Harriet was in a temper, Rebecca could see assoon as the girl walked into the room. Her movementswere abrupt, her voice overloud and overbright.
“Well,” she said, “every other day we have to await tea until Rebecca comes home from school. Yet no one seemedto consider it necessary to wait for me today.”
“If I had known when you would arrive, I would have waited,” Maude said. “But when you left, Harriet, yougave no indication of when you would return. Anyway,dear, the tray has just arrived. You may have fresh teawithout even having to wait for it.”
Rebecca had greeted the two men. She smiled warmly at them. She liked both, and was considerably relieved thatMr. Carver was without his friend on this occasion.
“Miss Shaw,” Mr. Bartlett said, “I suppose you have been putting us all to shame by working hard all day whilewe have been sleeping off the exertions of last evening andgenerally idling. And how do you contrive to look so fresh and lovely, ma’am, after such a busy day?”
She smiled. Such compliments did not call for an answer.
“Did you meet Mr. Carver outside?” Maude was asking Harriet.
“No,” Harriet said rather shrilly. “He was returning from the village as we were leaving here. It was such alovely afternoon that he decided to join us. He had noother pressing business.”
Harriet said no more, but Rebecca could tell from her tone and expression that she was furious. And indeed it didseem strange that a man with Mr. Carver’s good mannerswould have attached himself to a couple who could hardlyhave wanted his company. And he had stayed with themfor the whole afternoon.
“It was a shame the party could not have been larger,” Mr. Bartlett said, bowing with a polite smile in Mr. Carver’s direction. “It was a perfect afternoon for a ride.”
Mr. Carver did not stay long. After drinking one cup of tea, he rose and took his leave, explaining that the Sinclairs would be wondering what on earth had happened tohim.
The drawing-room doors had hardly closed behind him when Harriet exploded. “Well,” she said, “I have neverin my life met such a thick-skulled, bad-mannered clod!”
“Harriet!” Maude admonished, shocked.
“I am sure I have never given that man cause to believe that I so much as tolerate his company,” Harriet said.“And he has been downright rude to me on more than oneoccasion. Yet he forced his company on us this afternoonjust as if he were conferring the greatest honor. And hehardly spoke a word the whole way.”
“My dear Miss Shaw,” Mr. Bartlett said soothingly. “I must say I agree that I found the situation somewhatawkward. Mr. Carver is not the sort of person with whomit is easy to converse. He is of a somewhat taciturn disposition. But one must have pity on the man. He does nothave many friends, I believe. And he must feel all theawkwardness of his situation at the Sinclairs’. He is totallydependent upon their hospitality. Seeing us must havegiven him the idea of giving them an afternoon at least freeof his presence.”
“He might have done that alone,” Harriet said bitingly. “He did not have to spoil our afternoon merely because hedid not want to go to the Sinclairs’. Why does he not packhimself off where he belongs, anyway? No one wants himhere.”
“Harriet!” Maude protested again. “That is not fair, you know. He is Mr. Sinclair’s friend and guest. As suchhe has every right to be here and to visit at this house.”
“Well, if you ask me,” Harriet said, “Mr. Sinclair hasinvited him only because he feels sorry for him. And I donot see why we should be made to suffer. Do you knowwhat he said when he first saw us? He asked who wasriding with us, and when we said no one, he asked wherewe were going and how long we intended to be away. Canyou imagine the effrontery of the man? And then he saidthat he thought he would ride along with us.”
“Have some tea,” Maude said. “You look hot, Harriet.” Rebecca excused herself soon afterward. She was feeling extremely tired after a night with very little sleep andafter a busy day. Most of all, though, she was aware thather tiredness was largely an emotional thing. So much hadhappened in the last twenty-four hours that her mind hadnot had a chance to assimilate half of it. Her brain, in fact,was shutting down, refusing to take in any more information before its present overload had been digested.
She went up to her room, took off her dress and stockings, washed herself off with the cold water that stood in the pitcher on the washstand in her dressing room, and layon top of the covers on her bed. She wanted to sleep, toforget everything until she had more energy to cope withher thoughts. But it did not take her many minutes to knowthat she would not sleep, tired as she was.
There was the problem of her relationship with Philip to work out. Just a couple of hours ago she had agreed to marry him within the next month. And she had been quite convinced during those few minutes with him that herdecision was the right one. He was a good and a kind man,despite the outer sternness of his manner. With him shewould be safe; she would be able to continue the kind oflife she had led for much of her life. She could return tothe house that she still considered her home. It would beher own home; she would be mistress there. And Philipneeded her.
It was that final point that had swayed her there in the schoolroom. It was the first time she had heard Philipadmit to a need. And it is as flattering, she found, to betold that one is needed as that one is beautiful or desirable. AtUncle Humphrey’s she was not needed. She was treatedkindly there, never made to feel like a poor relation. Shewas even held in some affection, she believed. But shewas not needed.
And she needed Philip. Once married to him, she convinced herself, she would be able to accept her place in life and all the emotional upheavals of the previous fewweeks could be forgotten. She would be safe!
But all that had been a few hours ago. Now already she was not so sure. Marriage was a very final step. It wouldbe too late to discover after the wedding that she had donethe wrong thing. Wrong for her, perhaps, and perhapswrong for Philip.
She really had seen him with Maude, had she not? There could be no possibility of mistake? But no, sheknew there could not. Even if she had doubted the evidence of her own eyes the evening before, the behavior ofboth that day had indicated that something abnormal hadhappened. And what had happened? Were Philip and Maudecarrying on an illicit affair? Had it been going on for sometime?
The thought had only to be formed in her mind for Rebecca to realize how preposterous it was. Her faith inher own understanding of human nature had been severelyshaken recently, but she could not have been so mistakenin either of those two persons. Philip definitely had his faults; she was quite aware of them. But they were faultsall on the side of virtue. He was too demanding of otherpeople, too intolerant of weakness. Philip could no moreconduct a clandestine affair with a married parishionerthan he could curse from the pulpit.
And Maude? She was very young and very unhappy with Uncle Humphrey, but all her behavior since Rebeccahad known her had suggested a young woman of high moralprinciples, who would put duty before personal happiness.Even her quite unnecessary concern for Harriet’s reputation that afternoon had demonstrated her moral values. Shewould never willingly be unfaithful to her aging husband.
What had happened then? Rebecca let her mind rove over the previous few months. Maude and Philip, shecould see now, had been growing more aware of eachother for some time. Maude was constantly praising Philip.She admired him greatly. Philip was quite the opposite; hewas forever criticizing Maude for what he considered herfrivolity. Was it a mutual attraction that had really beencausing that awareness? If so, probably neither had beenaware of the truth. Maude would not have talked so openlyabout him before her husband and his family if she hadrealized that she was attracted to him. Philip would haveruthlessly suppressed all feelings had he suspected thetruth.
But it was the truth, was it not? Rebecca stared up at the canopy above her bed. The attraction had grown graduallyand had finally taken them unawares so that they had beenindiscreet enough to embrace the night before where theyhad been in great danger of detection. It had had time totake deep root in the feelings of both. Was it possible thattheir feelings were ones of more than attraction? Were theyin love? It seemed highly probable.
