Chapter VIII

Mrs. Brandreth-Smith was enjoying herself vastly. She awoke each morning with the sense of a strenuous and important day before her, in which she should control a large number of people and affairs. And the best of all was that she was not nouveau-riche in the ordinary sense of the word: she was an exile who had come home. Was she not a Brandreth? Did not the county acknowledge her? Had not Lord Marfidon himself expressed his gratification that Marston was still to be in Brandreth hands?

" That young chap, you know/' he had said confidently, "who we all thought was to have it, was really rather a cub."

She had smilingly murmured something that might be interpreted as deprecatory or appreciative. " It 'ud all have gone to the Jews, you know," he had continued. " It means a good deal to us, you know, that it should still be Brandreth property."

And it was from the seed of these words that a further vast and audacious project had sprung up in the lady's mind. But she saw it must be put through quickly, if it was to come off at all.

She had a further satisfaction in the knowledge that she was not only doing her duty, but doing it well. Her husband was perfectly acquiescent and obedient: he had capitulated in a manner she had hardly dared to hope, and was beginning to show, even, a certain independent life of his own along the proper lines. She had heard him rating

Digitized by Google the gamekeeper in a perfectly respectable manner, and he had told the butler, in her hearing, that the smell of smoke was not any more to come up from the direction of the pantry. (He had shaved off his little whiskers too, and looked at least naval, if not positively military.)

Her children, too, were behaving as was expected of them. Helen had made friends with Mabel Marridon and actually took an interest in her dresses. Percy had taken to shooting with avidity and had desired, three or four times, to go up to town on affairs which (with the exception of the Father Hilary business) she approved. He had been twice up to his shooting-school and his tailors, once to a theatre, and only yesterday had gone up again to see the priest and stay the night in town. But, best of all, he hadn't yet made any fuss about getting Reggie Bal-lard down to Marston: she felt that would not quite do when he had first mentioned it; and had evaded. At any rate she must insist that Reggie was not to come when there were any other guests. She had other views for Percy now. He must make new friends more consonant with his new position.

On this particular morning she had a further cause for importance. Mr. Bennett and his wife were coming down to stay a night and inspect the place before finally accepting the offer of the living: and this, perhaps, more than anything, brought home to her the greatness of her position. Up to the present the clergy had been her social superiors; henceforth they would lunch or sup with her on Sundays, meekly, as she required. It gave her an astonishing sense of power, to be able to bestow a living at her own high pleasure. • • • She looked back on Hanstead now, as a glorified scullery-maid in Heaven might regard memories of a mean lodging-house on earth.

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The mid-day train brought first Percy, and next the second post. Percy looked a little white, she thought; but he gave her an intelligent account of the Wilton Crescent arrangements, and reported progress in the shooting-school. He said nothing about the priest.

The second post, too, brought her a new pleasure, for it contained a letter from a friend in London in answer to one of her own, bringing circumstances within her knowledge whose manipulation would give her another opportunity for exercising social power. It was important enough — (though very sad of course, too) — to warrant discussion at the luncheon table when the servants had gone away after coffee.

" James," she said, tilting her head a little, " I have had news of the Matthieson-Howleys."

The doctor bent his eyes on her, while Helen looked up sharply.

" They mustn't be called upon/' she said. '* Winnie tells me there's a queer story " she glanced at Helen.

Helen flushed.

It was she who had discovered the new inhabitants of the " Nook," in Marston Village, and had reported a conversation she had had over an unrehearsed cat-hunt on the part of her new terrier Jim and the Matthieson-Howleys' cat. She had reported Mrs. Matthieson-Howley as quite charming, and had suggested that an acquaintance might be followed up.

" Are you sure it's true, mother? " she said rebelliously.

" It is enough that I say so," said her mother, folding up the letter again which she had held up just now as a guarantee of good faith.

The doctor nodded.

"Who are the Matthieson-Howleys?" asked Percy languorously.

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" They are at the ' Nook/ " said Mrs. Brandreth-Smith. " I don't say there is anything specifically wrong; but — well: I think I have said enough."

She rose.

Helen made her way after tea to the smoking-room to find Percy. She felt she must have sympathy. He was sitting in a deep chair, his hands resting along its arms, doing absolutely nothing: he just moved his head and eyes a little as she rustled in.

" I think it's perfectly hateful of mother," she said, sitting down sharply opposite him. " There's nothing whatever against them really. Why shouldn't I "

"What are you talking about?"

"Why, the Matthieson-Howleys. He's only divorced his wife: and why shouldn't he? And he's married again. Why shouldn't he? The law allows it, and he was married in church all right."

Percy sat up.

"Why, what's the matter?" he asked abruptly.

" Mother says we mustn't call upon them. (And she's simply a dear). Mother says we must be very careful indeed in the country, at any rate at first. She says you've got to draw the line somewhere: that it might be all right in an ordinary way in town; but "

" Do you mean you're not to call upon them because of that?"

Helen was astounded at his vehemence. He did not usually show zeal in such affairs. Yet he was all awake now, and looked indignant She felt encouraged.

"Yes. Isn't it perfectly hateful? Did you ever hear such "

Percy was on his feet.

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"And that's absolutely all that she's heard against them?" he exclaimed. "When they've only done a perfectly legal thing — do you really mean that?"

" That's absolutely all/' she assented again.

"That's rot; you must have misunderstood. Look here, I'll go and ask mother myself."

" Oh! do, Percy. And do try to persuade heir "

But Percy was gone.

Ill

" No more wine, thank you," said Mr. Bennett politely. " One finds one glass quite enough."

His wife and he had arrived by the " tea-train," and had reached the house soon after five. The rest of the evening till dinner they had been closeted with their hosts.

Dinner had displayed them as variously affected, respectively, by the atmosphere in which they found themselves. Mrs. Bennett was completely herself, staidly and brightly dressed, pleasant, humorous and attractive: Mr. Bennett, in a tightish black silk waistcoat buttoning out of sight, and a swallow-tail coat, was urbane and deferential. Mrs. Brandreth-Smith's composed bearing, her augustness and authority, had their subtle effects upon these two — making them both a little subdued. It was evident that they would make an excellent Rectory party, and that they intended to do so.

It was immediately after Mr. Bennett had proclaimed his abstemiousness over the port that he remembered for the first time a piece of news he had.

" By the way," he said to his host, " I never told you about poor Main."

" No."

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" Well: he's told me that in any case he will not attempt to stay on at Hanstead, even should my successor wish it. There's some mystery behind; I think it must be connected with his wife.... I can't make it out. And yet one knows for a fact that he has not communicated with the Bishop about any other work. I don't understand hVat all. I thought perhaps that you "

" Not a word! not a word! And why do you think that Mrs. Main— eh?"

"Well: she's been strange lately... one hardly knows to express it. Very polite and pleasant, and yet it almost seemed to one ironical too."

Percy fidgeted with his wine-glass. It seemed to him a very unimportant matter.

For he was obsessed by the injustice connected with the tenants of the " Nook." He had managed to get a word with his mother at dressing-time and had found that matters really were very much as Helen had reported. There was nothing at all against them except the fact that the man had divorced his wife and married again: and when the boy had asked indignantly whether such a thing was not perfectly justified both legally and ecclesiastically, and if so, what was wrong, his mother had answered that it " was not quite nice, anyhow," that there were some clergy-men and even some bishops who did not approve of re-marriage after divorce (though she made haste to say that she did not agree with them); and that people in their own position must be more careful than others to set an example.

" I don't like to have to remind you, my dear boy," she had said finally with that odd new authoritative air of hers, "that I and your father are the best judges as to who are proper persons for you to be acquainted with. We are in an entirely new position now, you know — you

Digitized by Google will learn all these little shades of feeling better by and by. I have not a word to s;^y against these people: I have no doubt that they are most excellent and good: but people who get mixed up in such affairs must be prepared to pay the price.... Now you must go, my dear boy; or I shall be late for dinner.'*

Mrs. Brandreth-Smith's heart indeed swelled within her in pleasurable sensations this evening.

It was an immense delight to her to sit and talk to Mrs. Bennett, while Helen unwillingly played the piano out of sight in a recess; and to feel how completely old relations had been reversed. At Hanstead, though she had bravely asserted to herself that the wives of the doctors and the clergy were entirely of equal rank, she did not find that everyone agreed with her. Mrs. Bennett, on occasions of rare dinner-parties, was always given precedence. But here there was no question at all as to which was the superior, Mrs. Brandreth-Smith of Marston Park or the wife of the clergyman whom Mrs. Brandreth-Smith was presenting to the Marston living.

She talked with an excellently well-bred patronage — not in the least ostentatious, it must be understood; and Mrs. Bennett, in her high-necked dress and garnet necklace, sat and meekly listened and agreed enthusiastically with the parochial plans that were set forth.

"You must just run in and out, my dear/' said Mrs. Brandreth-Smith, " as if this were your own house. It's such a pleasure to me to think that old friends will be so close. And Mr. Bennett must just set to work, with his wonderful organizing power, and transform the village. I am sure he will. His • • • his music, and his classes,

Digitized by Google and his Band of Hope and so on. And you must both just ask us for anything you want — quite freely and frankly, you know."

What a pleasure it all was, too, when the door opened and the men came in, talking, with the white shirt-front of her husband glimmering in the subdued light across the great Georgian room, and Mr. Bennett's hearty (and yet slightly deferential) laugh resounding at some joke.

Tall lamps shone through red shades here and there: a dozen candles in sconces, also protected by red shades, glowed high up above the polished wainscoting: the tall portrait of Mrs. Brandreth-Smith's own great-great-aunt, in a Gainsborough hat and white dress, towered above the mantelpiece — (really, her very own great-great-aunt!).

The thin shoes sounded sharp on the smooth polished floor, and turned silent on the deep-piled carpet: the piano-notes rippled out from the recess where Helen was still playing. It was all opulent and secure and assured.... A bell sounded, as solemn as a church, tolling to call the servants to supper far away. The wind whispered, scarcely heard, behind the shuttered and heavily curtained windows.

" Why, where's Percy! " she asked.

" Don't know," said her husband. " Slipped off for another smoke, I expect."

She frowned slightly. She was beginning to see that Percy would need a little management, especially if he was to fulfil the high vocation she was designing for him.

" And now what do you say to a rubber, Rector? "

She indicated a card-table laid out, with candles and packs.

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But Percy was not thinking about smoking.

He had gone through a very emotional day or two since his visit to the theatre and the note he had written afterwards; and it was this emotional restlessness, and nothing else — least of all any great desire to see Father Hilary — that had driven him up to town again, to go to the shooting-school and the priest, and, in a spare half-hour which he squeezed in, to walk past the theatre where Miss Farham's name was billed. She had not answered his letter as yet; but he quite understood that she might want a day or two to think it over, and was not at present depressed by her silence.

But the fever was on him, and running high. Her personality was beginning to be as present to him in all that he experienced, as sunlight is the medium by which a summer garden is seen. Indeed this was different to previous experiences of the kind. He knew that well enough.

So, while the sedate and dignified party sat round the card-table, he walked to and fro in the billiard-room — up and down the long strip of deep carpet, between the table and the leather-covered seats. The fever was so high that solitude alone seemed bearable.... And yet he did not know what he wanted, nor what he intended. He was only aware that in a completely new kind of way a fellow-creature whose Christian name was Gladys — (he repeated the name in a whisper again and again) — seemed necessary to him....

So he walked, and images and thoughts and desires, and the past, the present and the future, denied before his imagination like illusions seen in delirium.

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