The Friday was very dull. The hunting men of course had gone before Arabella came down to breakfast. She would willingly have got up at seven to pour out Lord Rufford’s tea, had that been possible; but, as it was, she strolled into the breakfast room at half-past ten. She could see by her aunt’s eye and hear in her voice that she was in part detected; and that she would do herself no further service by acting the good girl; and she therefore resolutely determined to listen to no more twaddle. She read a French novel which she had brought with her, and spent as much of the day as she could in her bedroom. She did not see Lord Rufford before dinner, and at dinner sat between Sir Jeffrey and an old gentleman out of Stamford who dined at Mistletoe that evening. “We’ve had no such luck tonight,” Lord Rufford said to her in the drawing-room.
“The old dragon took care of that,” replied Arabella.
“Why should the old dragon think that I’m dangerous?”
“Because—; I can’t very well tell you why, but I dare say you know.”
“And do you think I am dangerous?”
“You’re a sort of a five-barred gate,” said Arabella laughing. “Of course there is a little danger, but who is going to be stopped by that?”
He could make no reply to this because the Duchess called him away to give some account to Lady Chiltern about Goarly and the U.R.U., Lady Chiltern’s husband being a master of hounds and a great authority on all matters relating to hunting. “Nasty old dragon!” Arabella said to herself when she was thus left alone.
The Saturday was the day of the great shooting and at two o’clock the ladies went out to lunch with the gentlemen by the side of the wood. Lord Rufford had at last consented to be one of the party. With logs of trees, a few hurdles, and other field appliances, a rustic banqueting hall was prepared and everything was very nice. Tons of game had been killed, and tons more were to be killed after luncheon. The Duchess was not there and Arabella contrived so to place herself that she could be waited upon by Lord Rufford, or could wait upon him. Of course a great many eyes were upon her, but she knew how to sustain that. Nobody was present who could dare to interfere with her. When the eating and drinking were over she walked with him to his corner by the next covert, not heeding the other ladies; and she stood with him for some minutes after the slaughter had begun. She had come to feel that the time was slipping between her fingers and that she must say something effective. The fatal word upon which everything would depend must be spoken at the very latest on their return home on Monday, and she was aware that much must probably be said before that. “Do we hunt or shoot tomorrow?” she said.
“Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“I am quite aware of that, but I didn’t know whether you could live a day without sport.”
“The country is so full of prejudice that I am driven to Sabbatical quiescence.”
“Take a walk with me tomorrow,” said Arabella.
“But the Duchess?” exclaimed Lord Rufford in a stage whisper. One of the beaters was so near that he could not but have heard;—but what does a beater signify?
“H’mh’m the Duchess! You be at the path behind the great conservatory at half-past three and we won’t mind the Duchess.” Lord Rufford was forced to ask for many other particulars as to the locality and then promised that he would be there at the time named.
XXXVIII
“You Are So Severe”
On the next morning Arabella went to church as did of course a great many of the party. By remaining at home she could only have excited suspicion. The church was close to the house, and the family pew consisted of a large room screened off from the rest of the church, with a fireplace of its own—so that the labour of attending divine service was reduced to a minimum. At two o’clock they lunched, and that amusement lasted nearly an hour. There was an afternoon service at three in attending which the Duchess was very particular. The Duke never went at that time nor was it expected that any of the gentlemen would do so; but women are supposed to require more church than men, and the Duchess rather made it a point that at any rate the young ladies staying in the house should accompany her. Over the other young ladies there her authority could only be that of influence, but such authority generally sufficed. From her niece it might be supposed that she would exact obedience, and in this instance she tried it. “We start in five minutes,” she said to Arabella as that young lady was loitering at the table.
“Don’t wait for me, aunt; I’m not going,” said Arabella boldly.
“I hope you will come to church with us,” said the Duchess sternly.
“Not this afternoon.”
“Why not, Arabella?”
“I never do go to church twice on Sundays. Some people do, and some people don’t. I suppose that’s about it.”
“I think that all young women ought to go to church on Sunday afternoon unless there is something particular to prevent them.” Arabella shrugged her shoulders and the Duchess stalked angrily away.
“That makes me feel so awfully wicked,” said the Duchess of Omnium, who was the
