Frederica

‘No. If I said it I could only have been funning. And my memory is reasonably good – unlike yours, dear sir!’

‘Mine is erratic,’ he said imperturbably. ‘I remember only what interests me. I shan’t presume to engage a tutor, but if I can discover an eligible candidate I shall send him to wait on you when you return to London.’

‘Thank you,’ she said meekly. ‘I only wish you may not find it a most wearisome task!’

He was quite sure that he would, but events proved him to be wrong. On the day after his arrival in Berkeley Square, when he was going through some papers with his secretary, he said casually: ‘By-the-by, Charles, I suppose you don’t number amongst your acquaintance anyone willing to undertake the education of Jessamy and Felix? Quite a temporary arrangement – let us say, for three months.’

‘Well, no, sir, unless –’

He paused, and Alverstoke, lifting his eyes from the document in his hand, saw that he was looking embarrassed. ‘Unless what?’ he asked. ‘You don’t mean to tell me that you do know of such a man?’

‘N-no, sir. That is, it did occur to me that Septimus might be the very person. But I hardly like to put him forward, and I beg you won’t hesitate to –’

‘Septimus?’

‘My brother, sir. He is working for a Fellowship, but I know he meant to seek a post as crammer during the Long Vacation, and I should think he would prefer this one to any other – particularly as you mean to establish the Merrivilles at Alver. He could ride over every day, and continue to live at home, which would please my father.’

‘Charles, you are a prince of secretaries!’ said Alverstoke. ‘Write to him immediately! That is, if you think he won’t flinch from the task of coping with two such – er – enterprising pupils?’

Charles laughed: ‘Lord, no, sir! He’ll like ’em – and I’m pretty confident that they’ll like him. He’s the best of good fellows – no muffin, I promise you! He plays all manner of games, and is fond of field-sports too.’ He caught himself up, flushing. ‘You must judge for yourself, sir! Don’t take my word for it!’

‘My dear boy, when have you ever misled me? Invite him to come up on a visit next week! I fancy Felix will be well enough to travel by then, so that he will be able to make Miss Merriville’s acquaintance. Which reminds me that I must call in Upper Wimpole Street tomorrow, to give Charis the latest news of Felix. Don’t let me forget!’

Charis, meanwhile, had been passing through a variety of emotions. Her first agitation had been soothed by Harry’s bracing treatment; but it had been succeeded by alternating fits of hope and despair, not on Felix’s account, but on her own; and by rapid transitions from bliss to dejection. When Endymion was with her (which he frequently was), her troubles were forgotten: he loved her, and he was a rock of strength. To a dispassionate observer his strength might seem to lie partly in his magnificent physique, and partly in his optimistic pronouncements, but Charis was not a dispassionate observer. When Endymion said that she was not to get into the hips, because everything would be all right and tight; or nobly, if rather vaguely, that she must leave it all to him, she was comforted, never doubting the wisdom or the resolution of so God-like a creature. Doubt assailed her when he was not present, not of his perfection, but of the possibility that they would succeed in their aim. Alverstoke assumed the proportions of a malignant magician, who could cause Endymion to be carried out of reach by the waving of a wand; and Frederica was transformed from her beloved sister into her implacable enemy. Fortunately, perhaps, Frederica’s absence, coupled with his own light duties, made it possible for Endymion to visit her often enough to save her senses from becoming wholly disordered. When he presented himself in Upper Wimpole Street it was on the pretext of visiting Harry, or as escort to Chloë, and however suspicious Buddle might be he could scarcely refuse to admit him. Harry, having decided that he was a right one, connived at these manoeuvres, but behaved with what he considered to be the greatest propriety, never absenting himself from the drawing-room for more than half-an-hour when Endymion was in the house. As for Chloë, deeply sympathetic, and attached almost as fondly to Charis as to her brother, she was ready at all times to provide Endymion with an excuse for presenting himself in Upper Wimpole Street. In this, providence came to her aid, in the guise of influenza. Mrs Dauntry, laid low by this malady, suffered an attack compared with which all other persons’ attacks were as nothing. Assured of the attendance of her maid and of her devoted cousin, she excluded her daughters from her bedchamber, consigning them to the care of Miss Plumley and of Diana’s governess. But as Chloë had emerged from the schoolroom, and Miss Plumley was fully occupied in the sickroom, neither of these ladies placed any bar in the way of her friendship with Charis, or her expeditions under her brother’s aegis.

It was otherwise with Miss Winsham, who, learning from Mrs Hurley how often Endymion was to be found in Upper Wimpole Street, instantly took Charis to task, scolding her so severely that Charis burst into tears, and completing the work of disintegration by warning her that she would be wise to put Endymion out of her head, since Frederica would never consent to such a marriage.

The news, brought by Harry, that Frederica was bent on removing her family from London, struck dismay into both the star-crossed lovers’ hearts. Endymion, the first to recover, said stoutly that he could very well contrive to post down to Ramsgate, or any such seaside resort, to steal (little though he liked such shuffling behaviour) clandestine m

eetings with Charis; but Charis was filled with tragic forebodings.

It was at this stage that Alverstoke returned to London. Calling in Upper Wimpole Street upon the following day, he was ushered into the drawing-room, to find it occupied only by Charis and Endymion.

The discomfiture of the young couple was patent, and in no way lessened by the raising of his lordship’s quizzing-glass. Endymion, red to the roots of his hair, stammered: ‘I ca-came to enquire after – after Felix, sir! And to have a word with Harry!’

‘Only Harry has just stepped out,’ said Charis, courageously supporting him. ‘But only for a moment, so I begged C-cousin Endymion to wait for his return!’

His lordship, suppressing a desire to laugh, responded with an amiability the stricken pair thought sinister in the extreme: ‘How fortunate, then, that I should have arrived in time to relieve you of suspense, Endymion! I am glad to be able to tell you that Felix is on the mend, and will, I trust, shortly be well enough to return to London. So now you need not wait any longer! If your errand to Harry is important, may I suggest that you charge Buddle with a message for him? No doubt he will be happy to call at your lodging!’

In the face of this annihilating speech, there was nothing else for Endymion to do than to retire, in the best order possible. A wild idea of disclosing the truth to Alverstoke entered his mind only to be dismissed. For one thing, the message conveyed to him by Charis’s agonised eyes was unmistakeable; for another, he had been taken at a disadvantage, and had had no time in which to prepare his announcement, or to assemble the arguments in favour of a marriage which he knew, on his mother’s authority, would be unacceptable to the Marquis.

When the door shut behind him, the Marquis let his eyeglass fall, and advanced into the room, saying: ‘In the absence of both your sister and your aunt, Charis, it behoves me to tell you that it is not at all the thing for you to be entertaining young men without even the chaperonage of your brother. In fact, it is quite improper!’

She blushed, trembled, and could only master her voice sufficiently to stammer: ‘A cousin! Surely – when he is Harry’s friend – and wanted only to know how Felix goes on – !’

‘You are a mighty poor liar, my child,’ he commented. ‘That may stand to your credit, but you must learn to be more skilful before you play off your tricks on such an old hand as I am! Oh, no, pray don’t dissolve into tears! I have the greatest dislike of weeping females. I’ll give you a piece of good advice: never treat your flirtations au sérieux, and always conduct them with discretion!’

She tried to smile, but it was a wan effort. The familiar and paralysing sense of boredom began to creep over him; he repressed it, and said with a faint smile: ‘Blue-devilled? I have every sympathy with you, and will present you with another leaf from my book: these little affairs can be delightful, or they can be painful, but they don’t last, believe me! You won’t, of course, but you should: I speak from a vast experience. Yes, isn’t it shocking? Don’t tell your aunt!’

She gave a hysterical laugh, but said: ‘It isn’t like that!’

‘Of course not: it never is!’ he replied.

‘You don’t understand!’ she exclaimed bitterly.

‘That,’ said his lordship, with a touch of acidity, ‘is a foolish accusation which lacks even the saving grace of originality! Every generation, my child, has said, or thought, that the preceding one was devoid of understanding or experience. Let us turn to another subject! When I left Hertfordshire Felix was sitting out of bed for the first time, playing cards with Jessamy. As he was also expressing a strong desire for a mutton-chop I fancy that it won’t be many days before he is restored to you.’

She attempted another smile, but it conveyed little gladness; and it was almost listlessly that she murmured: ‘Oh! Dear Felix! Such a relief!’