Was she to be haunted always by the fear of such encounters? Rather than run that risk she would never again set foot in London. Certainly, the sooner she was out of it the better.
CHAPTER III
HE HEIRESS ENTERS INTO HER OWN
During the days and weeks which followed it was as though she were the chief personage in a strange, continuous dream. Always she expected an awakening-of a kind of which she did not dare to think. But the dream continued. All at once her path was strewn with roses; up to then she had seemed to have to pick her way, barefooted, amid stones and thistles. No obstacle of any kind arose. Everything was smooth and easy. Her claim to be her uncle's niece was admitted as soon as it was made. Under her uncle's will Mr Stacey was the sole trustee. To all intents and purposes his trusteeship was at an end when she was found. She was of age; the property was hers to do with exactly as she would. By no conditions was she bound. She was her own mistress; in sole control of that great fortune. It was a singular position for a young girl to find herself suddenly occupying.
She was glad enough to leave her affairs in the hands of Messrs Stacey, Morris & Binns. In those early days the mere attempt to understand them was beyond her power. They were anxious enough to place before her an exact statement of the position she had now to occupy. To some extent she grasped its meaning. But the details she insisted on being allowed to assimilate by degrees.
"If I know pretty well what I have and what I haven't, what I can do and what I can't, and what my duties and responsibilities are, say, in three, or even six months' time, I'll be content. In the meanwhile you must continue to do precisely what you have been doing during the time in which I was still not found. I understand sufficiently to know that you have managed all things better than I am ever likely to."
She provided herself with what she deemed an ample, and, indeed, extravagant supply of clothing at Mrs Stacey's urgent request. That lady's ideas, however, were much more gorgeous than her own. The solicitor's wife insisted that it was only right and proper that she should have a wardrobe which, as she put it, "was suitable to her position." That meant, apparently, that, in the way of wearing apparel, she should supply herself with the contents of a good-sized London shop. To that Miss Arnott objected.
"What do you suppose I shall do with all those things?" she demanded. "I am going into the country to stay there. I am going to live all alone, as my uncle did. I sha'n't see a creature from week's end to week's end-a heap of new dresses won't be wanted for that. They'll all be out of fashion long before I have a chance of wearing them."
Mrs Stacey smiled; she was a lady of ample proportions, who had herself a taste for sumptuous raiment.
"I fancy, dear Miss Arnott, that even now you don't realise your own situation. Do you really suppose that-as you suggest-you will be allowed to live all alone at Exham Park, without seeing a creature from week's end to week's end?"
"Who is going to prevent me?"
"Dear Miss Arnott, you are positively amusing. Before you have been there a fortnight the whole county, at least, will have been inside your doors."
"I hope not."
The look of distress on the young lady's countenance was almost comical.
"You speak, I think, without reflection. I, personally, should be both grieved and disappointed if anything else were to happen."
"You would be grieved and disappointed? Good gracious! Mrs Stacey, why?"
"It is only in accordance with the requirements of common decency that a person in your position should receive adequate recognition. If everyone did not call on you you would be subjected to an injurious slight."
"Certainly that point of view did not occur to me. Up to now no one worth speaking of has recognised my existence in the slightest degree. The idea, therefore, that it has suddenly become everyone's duty to do so is, to say the least, a novel one.
"So I imagined. It is, however, as I say; you see, circumstances are altered. Quite apart from the period when you will possess a town residence-"
"That period will be never."
"Never is a long while-a very long while. I say, quite apart from that period, what I cannot but call your unique position will certainly entitle you to act as one of the leaders of county society."
"How dreadful! I'm beginning to wish my position wasn't so unique."
"You speak, if you will forgive my saying so, as a child. Providence has seen fit to place you in a position in which you will be an object of universal admiration. With your youth, your appearance, your fortune, not only all Hampshire, but all England, will be at your feet.
"All England! Mrs Stacey, isn't that just a little exaggerated?"
"Not in the least. On the contrary, my language, if anything, errs on the side of being too guarded. A beautiful young girl of twenty-one, all alone in the world, with more than a hundred thousand pounds a year entirely under her own control-princes from all parts of the world will tumble over each other in their desire to find favour in your eyes."
"Then princes must be much more foolish persons than I supposed."
"My dear, of that we will say nothing. Don't let us speak evil of dignitaries. I was always brought up to think of them with respect. To return to the subject of your wardrobe. I have merely made these few remarks in order to point out to you how essential it is that you should be furnished, at the outset, with a wardrobe likely to prove equal to all the demands which are certain to be made on one in your position."
"All the same, I won't have five hundred dresses. Position or no position, I know I shall be much happier with five."
It is an undoubted fact that the young lady's equipment of costumes extended to more than five, though it stopped far short of the number which her feminine mentor considered adequate. Indeed, Mrs Stacey made no secret of her opinion that, from the social point of view, her arrangements were scarcely decent.
"At the very first serious call which is made upon your resources, you will find yourself absolutely without a thing to wear. Then you'll have to rush up to town and have clothes made for you in red-hot haste, than which nothing can be more unsatisfactory."
"I shall have to chance that. I hate shops and I hate shopping."
"My dear!"
"I do. I don't care how it is with other girls, it's like that with me. I've already had more than enough of dressmakers; for ever so long I promise you that I won't go near one for another single thing. I'm going to the country, and I'm going to live a country life; and for the kind of country life I mean to live you don't want frocks."
Mrs Stacey lifted up her hands and sighed. To her such sentiments seemed almost improper. It was obvious that Miss Arnott meant to be her own mistress in something more than name. On one question, however, she was over-ruled. That was on the question of a companion.
It was perfectly clear, both to her legal advisers and to the senior partner's wife, that it was altogether impossible for her to live at Exham Park entirely companionless.
"What harm will there be?" she demanded. "I shall be quite alone."
"My dear," returned Mrs Stacey, "you won't understand. It is precisely that which is impossible-you must not be quite alone; a young girl, a mere child like you. People will not only think things, they will say them- and they will be right in doing so. The idea is monstrous, not to be entertained for a moment. You must have some sort of a companion."
Miss Arnott emitted a sound which might have been meant for a groan.
"Very well then, if I must I must-but she shall be younger than I am; or, at anyrate, not much older."
Mrs Stacey looked as if the suggestion had rendered her temporarily speechless.
"My dear," she finally gasped, "that would be worse than ever. Two young girls alone together in such a house-what a scandal there would be!"
"Why should there be any scandal?"
Miss Arnott's manner was a little defiant.
"If you cannot see for yourself I would rather you did not force me to explain. I can only assure you that if you are not extremely careful your innocence of evil will lead you into very great difficulties. What you want is a woman of mature age, of wide knowledge of the world; above all, of impregnable respectability. One who will, in a sense, fill the place of a mother, officiate-nominally-as the head of your household, who will help you in entertaining visitors-"
"There will be no visitors to entertain."
The elder lady indulged in what she intended for an enigmatic smile.
"When you have been at Exham Park for six months you will blush at the recollection of your own simplicity. At present I can only ask you to take my word for it that there will be shoals of visitors."
"Then that companion of mine will have to entertain them, that's all. One thing I stipulate: you will have to discover her, I sha'n't."
To this Mrs Stacey willingly acceded. The companion was discovered. She was a Mrs Plummer; of whom her discoverer spoke in tones of chastened solemnity.
"Mrs Plummer is a distant connection of Mr Stacey. As such, he has known her all his life; and can therefore vouch for her in every respect. She has known trouble; and, as trouble always does, it has left its impress upon her. But she is a true woman, with a great heart and a beautiful nature. She is devoted to young people. You will find in her a firm friend, one who will make your interests her own, and who will be able and willing to give you sound advice on all occasions in which you find yourself in difficulty. I am convinced that you will become greatly attached to her; you will find her such a very present help in all times of trouble."
When, a few days before they went down together to Exham Park, Miss Arnott was introduced to Mrs Plummer in Mrs Stacey's drawing-room, in some way, which the young lady would have found it hard to define, she did not accord with her patroness's description. As her custom sometimes was, Miss Arnott plunged headforemost into the midst of things.
"I am told that you are to be my companion. I am very sorry for you, because I am not at all a companionable sort of creature."
"You need not be sorry. I think you will find that I understand the situation. Convention declines to allow a young woman to live alone in her own house; I shall be the necessary figurehead which the proprieties require. I shall never intrude myself. I shall be always in the background-except on occasions when I perceive that you would sooner occupy that place yourself. I shall be quick to see when those occasions arise; and, believe me, they will be more frequent than you may at this moment suspect. As for freedom-you will have more freedom under the ægis of my wing, which will be purely an affair of the imagination, than without it; since, under its imaginary shelter, you will be able to do all manner of things which, otherwise, you would hardly be able to do unchallenged. In fact, with me as cover, you will be able to do exactly as you please; and still remain in the inner sanctuary of Mrs Grundy."
Mrs Plummer spoke with a degree of frankness for which Miss Arnott was unprepared. She looked at her more closely, to find that she was a little woman, apparently younger than she had expected. Her dark brown hair was just beginning to turn grey. She was by no means ugly; the prominent characteristic of her face being the smallness of the features. She had a small mouth, thinly lipped, which, when it was closed, was tightly closed. She had a small, slenderly-fashioned aquiline nose, the nostrils of which were very fine and delicate. Her eyes were small and somewhat prominent, of a curious shade in blue, having about them a quality which suggested that, while they saw everything which was taking place around her, they served as masks which prevented you seeing anything which was transpiring at the back of them. She was dressed like a lady; she spoke like a lady; she looked a lady. Miss Arnott had not been long in her society before she perceived, though perhaps a little dimly, what Mrs Stacey had meant by saying that trouble had left its impress on her. There was in her voice, her face, her bearing, her manner, a something which spoke of habitual self-repression, which was quite possibly the outcome of some season of disaster which, for her, had changed the whole aspect of the world.
The day arrived, at last, when the heiress made her first appearance at Exham Park. The house had been shut up, and practically dismantled, for so long, that the task of putting it in order, collecting an adequate staff of servants, and getting it generally ready for its new mistress, occupied some time. Miss Arnott journeyed with Mrs Plummer; it was the first occasion on which they had been companions. The young lady's sensations, as the train bore her through the sunlit country, were of a very singular nature; the little woman in the opposite corner of the compartment had not the faintest notion how singular.
Mr Stacey met the travellers at the station, ushering them into a landau, the door of which was held open by a gigantic footman in powdered hair and silk stockings. Soon after they had started, Miss Arnott asked a question, -
"Is this my carriage?"
The gentleman replied, with some show of pomposity, -
"It is one of them, Miss Arnott, one of them. You will find, in your coach-houses, a variety of vehicles; but, of course, I do not for a moment pretend that you will find there every kind of conveyance you require. Indeed, the idea has rather been that you should fill the inevitable vacancies in accordance with the dictates of your own taste."
"Whose idea is the flour and the silk stockings?"
She was looking up at the coachman and footman on the box.
"The-eh? – oh, I perceive; you allude to the men's liveries. The liveries, Miss Arnott, were chosen by your late uncle; I think you will admit that they are very handsome ones. It has been felt that, in deference to him, they should be continued, until you thought proper to rule otherwise."
"Then I'm afraid that they won't be continued much longer. In such matters my uncle's tastes were-I hope it isn't treason to say so-perhaps a trifle florid. Mine are all the other way. I don't like floured heads, silk stockings, or crimson velvet breeches; I like everything about me to be plain to the verge of severity. My father's ideal millionaire was mine; shall I tell you what that was?"
"If you will be so good."
"He held that a man with five thousand a year, if he were really a gentleman, would do his best not to allow it to be obvious to the man who only had five hundred that he had more than he had."
"There is something to be said for that point of view; on the other hand, there is a great deal to be said for the other side."
"No doubt. There is always a great deal to be said for the other side. I am only hinting at the one towards which I personally incline." Presently they were passing along an avenue of trees. "Where are we now?"
"We are on your property-this is the drive to the house."
"There seems to be a good deal of it."
"It is rather more than three miles long; there are lodge gates at either end; the house stands almost in the centre."
"It seems rather pretty."
"Pretty! Exham Park is one of the finest seats in the country. That is why your uncle purchased it."
After a while they came in sight of the house.
"Is that the house? It looks more like a palace. Fancy my living all alone in a place like that! Now I understand why a companion was an absolute necessity. It strikes me, Mrs Plummer, that you will want a companion as much as I shall. What shall we two lone, lorn women do in that magnificent abode?"
As they stepped in front of the splendid portico there came down the steps a man who held his hat in his hand, with whom Mr Stacey at once went through the ceremony of introduction.
"Miss Arnott, this is Mr Arthur Cavanagh, your steward."
She found herself confronted by a person who was apparently not much more than thirty years of age; erect, well-built, with short, curly hair, inclined to be ruddy, a huge moustache, and a pair of the merriest blue eyes she had ever seen. When they were in the house, and Mr Stacey was again alone with the two ladies, he observed, with something which approximated to an air of mystery, -
"You must understand, Miss Arnott, that, as regards Mr Cavanagh, we-my partners and myself-have been in a delicate position. He was your uncle's particular protégé. I have reason to know that he came to England at his express request. We have hardly seen our way-acting merely on our own initiative-to displace him."
"Displace him? Why should he be displaced? Isn't he a good steward?"
"As regards that, good stewards are not difficult to find. Under the circumstances, the drawbacks in his case are, I may almost say, notorious. He is young, even absurdly young; he is not ill-looking, and he is unmarried."
Miss Arnott smiled, as if Mr Stacey had been guilty of perpetrating a joke.
"It's not his fault that he is young; it's not my fault that I am young. It's nice not to be ill-looking, and- I rather fancy-it's nice to be unmarried." She said to Mrs Plummer as, a little later, they were going upstairs together, side by side, "What odd things Mr Stacey does say. Fancy regarding them as drawbacks being young, good-looking and unmarried. What can he be thinking of?"
"I must refer you to him. It is one of the many questions to which I am unable to supply an answer of my own."
When she was in her own room, two faces persisted in getting in front of Miss Arnott's eyes. One was the face of Mr Arthur Cavanagh, the other was that of the man who was serving a term of twelve months' hard labour, and which was always getting, as it were, between her and the daylight.
CHAPTER IV
THE EARL OF PECKHAM'S PROPOSAL
Miss Arnott soon realised what Mrs Stacey had meant by insisting on the impossibility of her living a solitary life. So soon as she arrived upon the scene, visitors began to appear at Exham Park in a constant stream. The day after she came calls were made by two detachments of the clergy, and by the representatives of three medical men. But, as Mrs Plummer somewhat unkindly put it, these might be regarded as professional calls; or, in other words, requests for custom.
"Since you are the patron of these livings, their present holders were bound to haste and make obeisance-though it would seem that, in that respect, one of them is still a defaulter. The way in which those two doctors and their wives, who happened to come together, glowered at each other was beautiful. One quite expected to see them lapse into mutual charges of unprofessional conduct. Which of the three do you propose to favour?"
"Mr Cavanagh says that uncle used to patronise all three. He had one for the servants on the estate one for the indoor servants, and one for himself."
"And which of the three was it who killed him?"
"There came a time when all three were called together to consult upon his case. That finished uncle at once. He died within four-and-twenty hours. So Mr Cavanagh says."
"I suppose Mr Cavanagh is able to supply you with little interesting details on all sorts of recondite subjects?"
"Oh yes; he is like a walking encyclopedia of information on all matters connected with the estate. Whenever I want to know anything I simply go to him; he always knows. It is most convenient."
"And I presume that he is always willing to tell you what you want to know."
"Most willing. I never met a more obliging person. And so good-humoured. Have you noticed his smile?"
"I can't say that I have paid particular attention to his smile."
"It's wonderful; it lights up all his face and makes him positively handsome. I think he's a most delightful person, and so clever. I'm sure he's immensely popular with everyone; not at all like the hard-as-nails stewards one reads about. I can't imagine what Mr Stacey meant by almost expressing a regret that he had not displaced him, can you?"
"Some people sometimes say such extraordinary things that it's no use trying to imagine what they mean."
The answer was a trifle vague; but it seemed to satisfy Miss Arnott. Neither of the ladies looked to see if the other was smiling.
Mrs Stacey's sibylline utterance was prophetic; in a fortnight the whole county had called-that is, so much of it as was within anything like calling distance, and in the country in these days "calling distance" is a term which covers a considerable expanse of ground. Practically the only abstentions were caused by people's absence from home. It was said that some came purposely from London, and even farther, so that they might not lose an opportunity of making Miss Arnott's acquaintance.
For instance, there was the case of the Dowager Countess of Peckham. It happened that the old lady's dower house was at Stevening, some fourteen or fifteen miles from Exham Park. Since she had never occupied it since the time it came into her possession, having always preferred to let it furnished to whoever might come along, one would scarcely have supposed that she would have called herself Miss Arnott's neighbour. When, however, a little bird whispered in her ear what a very charming millionairess was in practically solitary occupation of Exham Park, it chanced that, for the moment, her own house was untenanted, and, within four-and-twenty hours of the receipt of that whispered communication, for the first time in her life she was under its roof. On the following day she covered the fourteen miles which lay between her and Exham Park in a hired fly, was so fortunate as to find Miss Arnott at home, and was so agreeably impressed by the lady herself, by her surroundings, and by all that she heard of her, that she stopped at the village post office on her homeward journey to send a peremptory telegram to her son to come at once. The Earl of Peckham came. He had nothing particular to do just then; or, at least, nothing which he could not easily shirk. He might as well run down to his mother. So he ran down on his automobile. Immediately on his arrival she favoured him with a few home truths; as she had done on many previous occasions, and peremptorily bundled him over to Exham Park.
"Mind! you now have a chance such as you never had before; and such as you certainly will never have again. The girl has untold wealth absolutely at her own command; she hasn't a relation in the world; she is alone with a woman who is perfectly ready to be hoodwinked; she knows nobody worth speaking of. You will have her all to yourself, it will be your own fault if she's not engaged to you in a fortnight, and your wife within six weeks. Think of it, a quarter of a million a year, not as representing her capital, you understand, but a year! and absolutely no relations. None of that crowd of miserable hangers-on which so often represents the mushroom millionaire's family connections. If you don't take advantage of this heaven-sent opportunity, Peckham, you are past praying for-that's all I can say."
Peckham sighed. According to her that always was all she could say, and she had said it so many times. He motored over to Exham Park in a frame of mind which was not in keeping with the character of a light-hearted wooer. He had wanted his mother to accompany him. But she had a conservative objection to motor cars, nothing would induce her to trust herself on one. So, reluctantly enough, he went alone.
"You ask Miss Arnott to lunch to-morrow; you can go over yourself and bring her on your car, it will be an excellent opening. And when she is here I will do the honours. But I have no intention of risking my own life on one of those horrible machines."
As he reached the bottom of a rather steep slope, his lordship met a lady and a gentleman, who were strolling side by side. Stopping, he addressed the gentleman, -
"I beg your pardon, but can you tell me if I am going right for Exham Park? There were crossroads some way back, at the top of the hill, but I was going so fast that I couldn't see what was on the direction posts. I mean Miss Arnott's."
"You will find the lodge gate on your right, about half a mile further on." The speaker hesitated, then added, "This is Miss Arnott."
Off came his lordship's hat again.
"I am very fortunate. I am Peckham-I mean the Earl of Peckham. My mother has sent me with a message."
The lady was regarding the car with interested eyes.
"I never have been on a motor car, but if you could find room for me on yours, you might take me up to the house, and-give me the message."
In a trice the mechanician was in the tonneau, and the lady by his lordship's side. As Mr Cavanagh, left alone, gazed after the retreating car, it was not the good-humoured expression of his countenance which would have struck Miss Arnott most.
The young lady's tastes were plainly altogether different from the old one's-at anyrate, so far as motor cars were concerned. Obviously she did not consider them to be horrible machines. She showed the liveliest interest in this, the first one of which she had had any actual experience. They went for quite a lengthy drive together, three times up and down the drive, which meant nearly nine miles. Once, at the lady's request, the driver showed what his car could do. As it was a machine of the highest grade, and of twenty-four horse power, it could do a good deal. Miss Arnott expressed her approbation of the performance.
"How splendid! I could go on like that for ever; it blows one about a bit, but if one were sensibly dressed that wouldn't matter. How fast were we going?"
"Oh, somewhere about fifty miles an hour. It's all right in a place like this; but, the worst of it is, there are such a lot of beastly policemen about. It's no fun having always to pay fines for excessive speed, and damages for running over people, and that kind of thing."
"I should think not, indeed. Have you ever run over anyone?"
"Well, not exactly; only, accidents will happen, you know."
As she observed that young man's face, a suspicion dawned upon her mind, that-when he was driving-they occasionally would.
Ere she descended she received some elementary lessons in the art of controlling a motor car. And, altogether, by the time they reached the house, and the message was delivered, they were on terms of considerable intimacy.
The acquaintance, thus auspiciously begun, rapidly ripened. The Earl did not find the business on which he was engaged anything like such a nuisance as he had feared; on the contrary, he found it an agreeable occupation. He was of opinion that the girl was not half a bad sort; that, in fact, she was a very good sort indeed. He actually decided that she would have been eligible for a place in the portrait gallery of the Countesses of Peckham even if she had not been set in such a desirable frame. That motor car was a great aid to intimacy. He drove her; and he taught her to drive him. Sometimes, the chauffeur being left behind, they had the car to themselves. It was on such an occasion, when their acquaintance hardly extended beyond his mother's suggested fortnight, that he made her an offer of his hand and heart. She was driving at the time, and going at a pretty good pace, which was possibly on the wrong side of the legal limit; but when she began to have an inkling of what he was talking about, she instantly put on the brakes, and pulled up dead. She was so taken by surprise, and her own hideous position was so continually present to her mind's eye, that it was some seconds before she perceived that the young man at her side must, of necessity, be completely unconscious of the monstrous nature of his proposal. She was silent for several moments, then she answered, while the car was still at a standstill in the middle of the road, -
"Thank you. No doubt your offer is not meant unkindly; but acceptance on my part is altogether out of the question."
"Why?"
"Why? Because it is. I am sorry you should have spoken like this, because I was beginning to like you."
"Isn't that a reason why I should speak? If you are beginning to like me, by degrees you may get to like me more and more."
"I think not. Because this little contretemps will necessarily put a period to our acquaintance."
"Oh, rats! that isn't fair! If I'd thought it would worry you I wouldn't have said a word. Only-I should like to ask if there is anybody else."
"Do you mean, is there anyone else to whom I am engaged to be married? There is not-and there never will be."
"I say, Miss Arnott! Every man in England-who can get within reach of you-will have tried his luck before the end of the season. You will have to take one of them, to save yourself from being bothered."
"Shall I? You think so? You are wrong. If you don't mind, I will turn the car round, and take it to the lodge gate; then I will get out, and walk home. Only there must be no more conversation of this sort on the way, or I shall get out at once."
"You need not fear that I shall offend again; put her round."
She "put her round." They gained the lodge gate. The lady descended.
"Good-bye, Lord Peckham. I have to thank you for some very pleasant rides, and for much valuable instruction. I'm sorry I couldn't do what you wanted, but-it's impossible."
"I sha'n't forget the jolly time I've had with you, and shall hope to meet you again when you come to town. You are inclined to treat me with severity, but I assure you that if you intend to treat every man severely, merely because he proposes, you have set yourself a task which would have been too much for the strength of Hercules."
His lordship returned then and there to London. On the road he sent a telegram to his mother which contained these two words only: "Been refused."
On her part, Miss Arnott did not at once return to the house. She chose instead a winding path which led to a certain woodland glade which she had already learned to love. There, amidst the trees, the bushes, the gorse, the wild flowers, the tall grasses and the bracken, she could enjoy solitary communion with her own thoughts. Just then she had plenty to think about. There was not only Lord Peckham's strange conduct, there was also his parting words.