This reflection led her into reverie; and while she hung her dresses in the wardrobe, and transferred her chemises and her petticoats from the portmanteau to the chest of drawers, she recalled the drives and the walks she had enjoyed in Alverstoke’s company, pondering some of the things he had said to her, smiling reminiscently at others.
These pleasurable, if nostalgic, thoughts were interrupted by a perfunctory knock on the door, followed immediately by the entrance of Harry, who demanded impetuously: ‘What is this I hear, Freddy? Charis says you mean to spend the summer at Alverstoke’s place in Somerset! Upon my word, I wonder that you should wish to be so much beholden to him, and I’ll tell you to your head that I do not! I am very well able to take care of my family myself, and so you may tell him! What’s more, I should like to know what sort of a rig he’s running! You may not know what his reputation is, but I do, and – and damme, I won’t have it!’
‘Won’t you, Harry?’ said Frederica, in a voice of dangerous quiet. ‘Then start to take care of your family! You haven’t yet made the least push to do so! You wouldn’t even find me a lodging, when I asked you! You have permitted – oh, no! you have encouraged Endymion Dauntry to sit in Charis’s pocket, without caring a straw for the consequences! You have never made the smallest attempt to – to accept your responsibilities! You have been content to leave everything to me! And now – now, when I am almost at my wits’ end, and my cousin – not my brother! – comes to my aid, you have the effrontery to say that you won’t have it, and that you don’t choose to be beholden to him! You wonder that I should wish to be! Well, I don’t wish it, but I shall be, because there is no one else on whom I can depend! You wonder at me! Not as much as I wonder at you, believe me!’
Her voice broke; she turned away, as aghast as Harry. She had kept her temper with Charis; she had not dreamt that she would lose it with Harry; she had not meant to utter such reproaches to him; and was now horrified that she had done so. What had come over her she could not imagine; but suddenly she had found herself trembling, and with such rage possessing her as she had never before experienced. It left her weak, bewildered, and struggling to hold back a rush of tears. She said, in a stifled voice: ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it – I’m out of frame – tired! Forget it – pray! And go away, if you please!’
‘Oh, certainly!’ replied Harry. ‘I am very willing to do so!’
With that, he stalked out of the room, seething with mortification, and a burning sense of injustice. There was just enough truth in Frederica’s intemperate accusations to touch his conscience, and this made him much angrier than if there had been none. Whose fault was it that he hadn’t accepted his responsibilities? Frederica’s, of course! a rare dust there would have been, if he had tried to interfere in her management of the family! When had she asked him for aid? Never! At all events, never until she had begged him to devote himself to Charis during her own absence from London. Had he done it? Yes, he had, and without a word of complaint, although he had been obliged to forgo all the entertainments to which he had been looking forward! Was it to please himself that he had remained in London during the past few weeks? No, by God it was not! He had done so at her request. Left to himself, he would have posted down to Monk’s Farm immediately.
He continued in this way for some time, posing questions to himself, and finding answers to them which were irrefutable, and yet afforded him little satisfaction. His sense of ill-usage increased; and when Charis sought him out presently to implore him to help her he was in exactly the right mood to lend himself to any enterprise likely to vex Frederica.
In view of her enforced, and possibly imminent, incarceration at Alver, Charis considered it to be of vital importance to consult Endymion: would her dearest Harry convey a message to him? and could he think of any respectable rendezvous?
Certainly he could! He would visit Endymion that very evening; as for a respectable rendezvous, nothing could be easier! They would meet in Kensington Gardens, and he himself would escort Charis there.
‘Oh, Harry, I knew I might depend on you!’ breathed Charis.
This was balm to his injured feelings. At least one of his sisters appreciated him! It was a pity, in a way (but not in other ways), that Frederica wasn’t present to hear this declaration of faith; but at all events she would very soon be made to realise that he was not the contemptible fribble she seemed to think him, but a force to be reckoned with.
But when she came into the drawing-room, just before dinner, much of his rancour faded. He was alone, and she went straight up to him, and put her arms round his neck, kissing his cheek, and saying: ‘Oh, Harry! Such an archwife as you have for a sister! Forgive me!’
The sense of injury was still strong in him. It was melting fast, but it prompted him to say: ‘Well, I must own, Freddy, I think it was pretty unjust of you!’
He was prepared to prove to her, point by point, just as he had proved it to himself, that she had grossly misjudged him; and had she allowed him to do it he would very soon have talked himself into goodhumour. But she did not. She had already endured two agitating scenes; she was tired; her head ached; she wanted, more than anything, to go to bed; and less than anything to become engaged in any further argument. So she said: ‘Yes, dear, I know it was. Let us talk of something else!’
‘That’s all very well, but it was you who brought up the subject of Endymion and Charis, and –’
‘For heaven’s sake, Harry, no!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t and I won’t enter into argument with you!’
He read into this an elder sister’s contempt for his opinion, and instantly stiffened, saying with freezing civility: ‘As you wish!’ She knew that she had wounded his sensibilities, and that she ought to reassure him, but she also knew that it would require tact and patience, both of which virtues had deserted her; so she merely smiled wearily at him, excusing herself with the reflection that Harry’s miffs never lasted for long.
Charis came down to dinner, rather red-eyed, but quite composed; and when she and Frederica retired to the drawing-room, she took up her stitchery, responding to Frederica’s attempt at conversation, but inaugurating none herself.
They went early to bed; and Frederica’s heart was lightened by the clinging embrace she received, in answer to her good-night kiss.
She fell asleep almost at once, but Charis lay awake, listening for Harry’s step on the stairs. When it came, she sat up expectantly, for he had promised to let her know the result of his mission. She called ‘Come in!’ in a hushed voice, when he tapped softly on her door, and scarcely waited for him to shut it before demanding: ‘Oh, Harry, did you see him?’
‘Yes, of course I did. Don’t speak so loud!’ he replied, with a significant glance at the wall which separated her room from Frederica’s.
‘What did he say?’ she asked, obediently lowering her voice. ‘What does he think we should do?’
‘He said he must have time to consider the matter,’ he answered, unable to repress a grin.
‘It naturally came as a great shock to him,’ said Charis, with dignity.
‘Lord, yes! Knocked him bandy! Didn’t seem able to say anything at first but “What a devilish thing!” However, we’re to meet him tomorrow, so you may be easy! By-the-by, we had better decide on some errand, in case Frederica wants to know where we are off to – which you may lay your life she will!’
‘Oh, no, Harry, must we? I can’t bear to deceive her!’ Charis said wretchedly.
‘Well, if that’s the case you had better not meet Endymion!’
‘But I must!’
‘Then stop being a goose! Isn’t there anything you wish to purchase?’
After prolonged thought, Charis said that if she were forced to go to Alver she would need some drawing-paper – not that she w