“He may stay until the day after thefair, according to her high and mighty ladyship,” she said.“But I shall see Papa before then, never fear. I do notintend to be bossed around by that intruder.”
Rebecca secretly thought that Lord Holmes would, for once, stand up to his daughter if he knew the truth of whatwas developing beneath his roof, but she held her counsel.
Harriet giggled unexpectedly. “We were out riding this afternoon,” she said, “when we saw Mr. Carver again.He was riding to the village. He raised his hat and lookedvery stern. Stanley bowed, very civil, and I nodded myhead, but neither one of us smiled. It was really verycomical, Rebecca. He asked about my ankle and I said—very haughty—‘Pray, sir, have you not been told by theSinclairs, who have visited me every day since my accident’—I emphasized theevery—‘that I am now going along tolerably well? I am surprised at their silence, sir.’ Then I turnedand said, ‘Come along, Stanley, the horses are getting skittishat the delay.’ You should just have seen his face, Rebecca.”
“Yes,” her cousin replied, “I can just imagine, Harriet.I suppose you did not consider thanking Mr. Carver for theassistance he gave you at the castle?”
“Thanking him!” Harriet said. “That odious, pompous tyrant? Did you hear what he said? He said I deserved athrashing! Any gentleman would have been all attentionand solicitous concern. I might have been dead!”
“Precisely,” Rebecca said. “And it would all have been your fault, Harriet.”
Harriet fixed her cousin with a severe eye. “Sometimes, Rebecca,” she said, “I think you are positively stuffy.You are actually taking the part of a man who can behavewith such a want of conduct? I can just picture himthrashing a female, too. It would doubtless make him feelmanly. He would find himself with a few bruises of hisown if he ever tried to lay a hand on me, I can tell you.”
“Well,” Rebecca said soothingly, “I think you can rest assured, Harriet, that he never will. Mr. Carver is enoughof a gentleman not to try to lay hands on any female whowas not either his sister, his daughter, or his wife.” Shethought again of the reaction she had evoked quite unwittingly from Mr. Carver when she had said something quitesimilar to him a few days before and looked curiously atHarriet in the mirror.
Harriet, though, was not blushing and coughing at the thought. “His wife—ugh!” she said, and clutched herthroat and stuck out her tongue.
Maude was quiet at the dinner table that evening. She was looking pale and weary, Rebecca thought. She wasquite surprised, in fact, that her uncle’s wife had put in anappearance at all downstairs.
“How is Uncle Humphrey?” she asked when she was alone with Maude before the meal. “Is he sleeping?”
“Yes, at present he is,” Maude answered. “He really is not well, and the doctor told me today that he suspects aweak heart. Oh, Rebecca, and I have been so impatientwith his ailments.”
“Nonsense,” Rebecca said, going to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. “You have been nothing but patience, Maude. You will have to be careful that you do not become sick too. You are looking very tired. Had you not better have some fresh air? Perhaps a walk afterwards?The evening air will be cool and very refreshing.”
“How I would love that!” Maude said wistfully. “If his lordship is still asleep when dinner is over, perhaps I willwalk, Rebecca, if you will join me. If he is awake, he willdoubtless want me in attendance. Besides, he does not likeme to walk in the evening air. He is afraid that I will takea chill.”
She lapsed into silence again. It was altogether a strained meal. Harriet was showing silent displeasure to her stepmother, pointedly ignoring her and addressing the fewremarks she did make to Mr. Bartlett or Rebecca. Mr.Bartlett himself did his best to charm everyone back into agood humor, but it was completely beyond his power to doso.
Lord Holmes was still asleep when Maude went up to his bedchamber to check on him. She left his valet inattendance and came back downstairs, a shawl around hershoulders, to claim her walk with Rebecca. They strolledsouth across the lawn and into the pasture.
Maude breathed deeply and lifted her face to the late evening sky. “Oh, Rebecca,” she said, “you cannot knowhow good it feels to escape into the outdoors once in awhile. How I envy you your life of activity and usefulness.”
Rebecca bit her lip. “I certainly would not say your life is useless at the moment,” she said. “I am sure you arebringing great comfort to Uncle Humphrey.”
Maude sighed. “He will not let me out of his sight when he is awake,” she said, “yet I cannot do anythingright for him. If I plump up his pillows, I leave themlumpy; if I read to him, I read too quietly or too loudly.And now it seems that he really is ill. Poor Humphrey!Sometimes I wonder if I am of any use to him or anyoneelse in the world.”
“Oh, please do not talk like that!” Rebecca said, distressed. “Indeed, at times it does seem that life is tedious and pointless, but those times always pass. You are of great value to me, Maude. I believe I would find life at my uncle’s house less easy to support if it were not for yourcalm and sweet presence.”
‘‘How kind of you to say so,” Maude said, flashing the other a grateful smile. “But I do know what you mean. Ihate to criticize Harriet; she has many good qualities that Ido not possess—vitality, strong will, determination. Butshe is very undisciplined. I am only three years older thanshe, Rebecca, and I have lived a sheltered existence. Yeteven so, I know a great deal more about life than she,though she would never believe so. I think having Stanleyas a brother has taught me many of the harsher truths oflife.”
“Harriet is selfish and she does not always display the greatest good sense,” Rebecca agreed, “but I still hopethat one day she will grow up and turn out not so badlyafter all.”
“Ihave always believed so, too,” Maude said, “and indeed I still hope so. But I do fear, Rebecca, that she willdo something foolish that will blight the whole futurecourse of her life.”
“She told me this afternoon about your trying to separate her from your brother,” Rebecca said gently. “Do you really believe it would be such an imprudent match,Maude?”
Maude shot her one penetrating glance and looked ahead again. “I find it hard to speak ill of my brother,” she said,“but really he is not the man for Harriet.”
“Just because he has no fortune and no prospects?” Rebecca asked. “Do those facts matter so much when hehas qualities enough to compensate for the lack? Harrietdoes not need to marry for money. Indeed, I am convincedthat she would be fortunate indeed to attract such anamiable husband. He seems to feel an affection for her.”
“Stanley feels affection for no one but himself!” Maude said bitterly. “Nothing has ever mattered to him but thegratification of his own desires and the everlasting searchfor wealth and comfort.”
“You surely cannot be serious,” Rebecca said. “You are tired, Maude. You are perhaps afraid that Uncle Humphrey will be displeased with you if he learns of thisattachment between Harriet and Mr. Bartlett. But youcannot really mean what you just said.”
“Oh, can I not?” Maude said, her voice breathless. “I did not mean to say so much, Rebecca, but since I havebegun, I might as well continue. Sometimes I feel solonely having no one in whom to confide. Stanley iscoldhearted and totally lacking in morals. He is a consummate actor, as you have seen, but I have known him all mylife. And he has never been any different. We were notalways poor. Papa was never wealthy, it is true, but therewas always enough. There was money for Stanley to livein modest comfort all his life and money for a respectabledowry for me. Stanley gambled it all away within a year ofleaving home, and Papa was foolish enough to pay all hisdebts rather than see him go to debtors’ prison.”
Rebecca stared incredulously at the hard profile of her companion, who was striding across the meadow withprobably no idea of where she was going.
