Bath Tangle

He smiled. “That resolution will be broken soon enough! What do you want, Serena?”

“I wish you will sit down! Ivo, what is to be done?”

“Nothing.”

“You cannot mean to accept the Trust!”

“Why not?”

“Good God, one moment’s reflection must be enough to make you see how intolerable it would be! For both of us!”

“I can see why you should think it intolerable, but why should I find it so?”

“You don’t want for sense, so I suppose you are trying to provoke me! Can you doubt that the story will be one of the on-dits of the town within a week? My Uncle Dorrington will take care of that! Everyone will be talking about it, and—laughing at it!”

“This is a new come-out for you, Serena!” he said admiringly. “You were never used to give a straw for what anyone might say of you!”

She flushed, and looked away. “You are mistaken. In any event, to have everyone watching us would be detestable!”

“Let ’em watch! They will be tired of it by the time you are out of black gloves, and in the meanwhile it won’t worry me.”

“To have everyone conjecturing?”

“Lord, Serena, I’ve been food for conjecture any time these dozen years! There have been some very good stories made up about me, too.”

She looked despairingly at him. “I know this humour too well to suppose it is of the least use to continue talking. You mean to fob me off by pretending not to understand me.”

“No, I don’t. I understand you very well, but you’re refining too much upon it. There’s nothing remarkable in my being appointed to be your Trustee: everyone knows I was one of your father’s closest friends, and no one will be surprised that he chose to name me rather than that old fool, Dorrington, or the rasher of wind your aunt married!”

“No—if it had not been for that wretched engagement!” she said frankly. “That is what makes it so intolerable! Papa’s intention is—is blatant!”

“You can console yourself with the reflection that it is I, and not you, who will be a laughing-stock for the vulgar,” he said grimly.

“How can you talk so? I promise you, I don’t wish you to be put into such a position!”

“Don’t waste a thought on it! I’m inured!”

“Oh, how odious you are!” she exclaimed, with suppressed violence.

“That sounds more like you!” he said cordially. “I thought it would not be long!”

She controlled herself with a strong effort, not lost on him, tightly gripping her hands together in her lap, and clenching her teeth on her lower lip.

“Take care, Serena! you will go into strong convulsions if you bottle up so much spleen!”

She was always quick to perceive the ridiculous, and gave a gasp. Her eyes did indeed flash a challenge, but her sense of humour got the better of her temper, and she burst out laughing. “Oh—! At least own that you would provoke a saint!”

“I never tried to. You are no saint!”

“No, alas!” she sighed. “Come! don’t tease me, Ivo, pray! Is there no way of upsetting that infamous Will?”

“I should imagine not. I’m no lawyer, however. Consult your father’s attorney! I warn you, he returned no very encouraging answers to your uncles, when they appealed to him. I daresay it might be upset if I were to contravene the Trust, but I shan’t.”

“If you were to refuse to act—?”

“I shan’t do that either. You wouldn’t get control of your fortune if I did, and that’s what you chiefly want, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! My father gave me £250 a year for pin-money, and that was very well while he lived, but how the deuce am I to support myself on such a sum?”

“Don’t try to bamboozle me, my girl! Your mother’s fortune was settled on you.”

“Ten thousand pounds, invested in the Funds! The whole of my income will be less than £700! Good God, Ivo, I daresay Papa must have spent as much on my hunters alone!”

“Oh, more! He gave a thousand guineas for that flea-bitten grey which carried you so well last season. But you will hardly hunt this year!”

“This year! No! But am I to be reduced to penury all the days of my life?” she demanded. “What if I should remain a spinster? Has any provision been made for that contingency?”

“No, none. I looked particularly at the Will to be sure of it,” he replied. “A damned, ill-managed business—but I suppose he thought there was no fear the point would arise.”

“He has certainly done his best to thrust me into marriage with the first man who is so obliging as to offer for me!” she said bitterly.

“You are forgetting something, my love!”

She looked mistrustfully at him. “No! Your consent must be obtained!”

“Just so! But make yourself easy! I shan’t withhold it unreasonably.”

“You would do anything to spite me!”

“Well, if I do, you will have a very good case against me, and will no doubt be able to break the trust. Meanwhile, let me give you a piece of advice! If you don’t wish to afford the world matter for gossip, assume the appearance at least of complaisance! How you came to make such a ninnyhammer of yourself, for all those fools to gape at, I know not! Rail at me in private if you choose, but in public behave so that the interested may believe you to be very well satisfied with the arrangement, and see nothing in it but what is natural and comfortable.”

She was obliged to acknowledge the good sense of this advice. “But for the rest—! How shall I do? Can I support myself on so little, Ivo?”

“You might do so on much less, but from what I know of you you would not. But what is all this talk of supporting yourself? You don’t mean to set up your establishment, do you? That your father never intended!”

“No, I don’t—but if I did you could not prevent me! At least I don’t have to win your odious consent for anything but marriage!”

“You don’t, but if you indulged in any such folly your debts would very soon teach you the unwisdom of flouting my advice,” he retorted.

Her bosom swelled, but she said nothing.

“Well, what do you mean to do?” he asked.

“I shall remain with Lady Spenborough,” she answered coldly. She discovered that he was frowning, and raised her brows. “Pray, have you any objection?”

“No. No, I’ve no objection. You won’t feel yourself straitened, at all events, while you live under her roof, and she has been so handsomely provided for that she may well support you. But-here?”

“At the Dower House. I perceive that that displeases you! You must be ingenious indeed if you can hit upon a plausible reason to account for your disapproval!”

“I am not displeased, I don’t disapprove, and if you show hackle again without cause, you may expect to have your ears boxed as they never have been yet—more’s the pity!” he said savagely. “Live where you choose! It’s all one to me. Have you anything more to say?”

“No, I have not, and I should be very happy to think I need never say another word to you for as long as I live—and of all things in the world there is nothing—nothing!—so abominable, and contemptible, and cowardly, and ungentlemanly as persons who walk out of the room when one is addressing them!”

He had opened the door, but at that he burst out laughing, and shut it again. “Very well! But I warn you I shall give as good as I get!”