“What is the meaning of that?” The Duchess was not skilled in hiding her feelings, at any rate from him, and declared to him at once by her voice and eye that the proposed change was not gratifying to her.
“It will be better. I had thought that I would get a quiet day or two at Matching. But as the thing has to be done, it may as well be done at first. A man ought to receive his own guests. I can’t say that I look forward to any great pleasure in doing so on this occasion;—but I shall do it.” It was very easy to understand also the tone of his voice. There was in it something of offended dignity, something of future marital intentions—something also of the weakness of distress.
She did not want him to come at once to Gatherum. A great deal of money was being spent, and the absolute spending was not yet quite perfected. There might still be possibility of interference. The tents were not all pitched. The lamps were not as yet all hung in the conservatories. Wagons would still be coming in and workmen still be going out. He would think less of what had been done if he could be kept from seeing it while it was being done. And the greater crowd which would be gathered there by the end of the first week would carry off the vastness of the preparations. As to money, he had given her almost carte blanche, having at one vacillatory period of his Prime Ministership been talked by her into some agreement with her own plans. And in regard to money he would say to himself that he ought not to interfere with any whim of hers on that score, unless he thought it right to crush the whim on some other score. Half what he possessed had been hers, and even if during this year he were to spend more than his income—if he were to double or even treble the expenditure of past years—he could not consume the additions to his wealth which had accrued and heaped themselves up since his marriage. He had therefore written a line to his banker, and a line to his lawyer, and he had himself seen Locock, and his wife’s hands had been loosened. “I didn’t think, your Grace,” said Locock, “that his Grace would be so very—very—very—” “Very what, Locock?” “So very free, your Grace.” The Duchess, as she thought of it, declared to herself that her husband was the truest nobleman in all England. She revered, admired, and almost loved him. She knew him to be infinitely better than herself. But she could hardly sympathise with him, and was quite sure that he did not sympathise with her. He was so good about the money! But yet it was necessary that he should be kept in the dark as to the spending of a good deal of it. Now he was going to upset a portion of her plans by coming to Gatherum before he was wanted. She knew him to be obstinate, but it might be possible to turn him back to his old purpose by clever manipulation.
“Of course it would be much nicer for me,” she said.
“That alone would be sufficient.”
“Thanks, dear. But we had arranged for people to come at first whom I thought you would not specially care to meet. Sir Orlando and Mr. Rattler will be there with their wives.”
“I have become quite used to Sir Orlando and Mr. Rattler.”
“No doubt, and therefore I wanted to spare you something of their company. The Duke, whom you really do like, isn’t coming yet. I thought, too, you would have your work to finish off.”
“I fear it is of a kind that won’t bear finishing off. However, I have made up my mind, and have already told Locock to send word to the people at Matching to say that I shall not be there yet. How long will all this last at Gatherum?”
“Who can say?”
“I should have thought you could. People are not coming, I suppose, for an indefinite time.”
“As one set leaves, one asks others.”
“Haven’t you asked enough as yet? I should like to know when we may expect to get away from the place.”
“You needn’t stay till the end, you know.”
“But you must.”
“Certainly.”
“And I should wish you to go with me, when we do go to Matching.”
“Oh, Plantagenet,” said the wife, “what a Darby and Joan kind of thing you like to have it!”
“Yes, I do. The Darby and Joan kind of thing is what I like.”
“Only Darby is to be in an office all day, and in Parliament all night—and Joan is to stay at home.”
“Would you wish me not to be in an office, and not to be in Parliament? But don’t let us misunderstand each other. You are doing the best you can to further what you think to be my interests.”
“I am,” said the Duchess.
“I love you the better for it, day by day.” This so surprised her, that as she took him by the arm, her eyes were filled with tears. “I know that you are working for me quite as hard as I work myself, and that you are doing so with the pure ambition of seeing your husband a great man.”
“And myself a great man’s wife.”
“It is the same thing. But I would not have you overdo your work. I would not have you make yourself conspicuous by anything like display.
