BEFORE THE FRAY

"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Faber later on, when Toney threw open her old sitting-room door where the poor companion had had such miserable hours. It was as comfortable as modern comfort bought with modern money could make it. Then the little woman fairly sat down and cried.

"Gracious stars! I meant to make you laugh, Crumpet! Oh, gee! you see how hard it is to do right!"

Mrs. Faber quickly dried her tears and smiled.

"I can't help thinking of all my happiness now and comparing it with the past, and it's all owing to you, Toney. Do you remember——"

"Of course I do. What mostest fun we had when I dressed in your grandmother's garments, and then when your dear Henry came!"

"When I compare my past and my present I feel how ungrateful I am!"

"Nonsense, Chum, you never were ungrateful! But look here, I got aunt's leave to furbish up this room a bit so that you shouldn't be reminded of the old order. I knew you would prefer our being together up here, and I've got lots to tell you. First, I've had some dresses made for you, so that you shouldn't be put to any expense for my party." Toney quickly opened a wooden box and displayed the most lovely dresses imaginable, lovely because suitable and perfectly simple. One was a dinner dress of pale mauve silk, just suited to Mrs. Faber's delicate complexion, and the other was a white liberty silk dress for the ball. Mrs. Faber gasped.

"Oh no, Toney! it's impossible! They must have cost ever so much money, and I don't want people to say that I—I sponge upon you."

"There you are again, Crumpet! 'People to say,' I did think that you'd rise above that. Remember Henry's pleasure—and mine!"

"Henry may not think it right!"

"Look here, Chum, let's be serious just for one minute and listen. You know I've an awful lot of money, fifty thousand a year!" Mrs. Faber gasped again.

"It's a secret, by the way, but not from you. Well, when I first heard it I did what Pups would have done, I just dedicated it all to other people that wanted it, and I didn't guess it would be such hard work as I see it will be. After to-morrow I shall work like a Kanaka, but just for this week I'm going to please myself and not think if it's wise, or if it's political economy, or all the things I've been trying to learn to fit myself for spending this stuff."

"It will be too much work for you, dear!"

"Yes, it's awful! but I'm going to keep just enough to dress like Pups' daughter, because that's what I am. You know Aunt Dove never thought me fit to live here, and I'm not yet changed, you see! And there shall always be enough to take people abroad who want it every year, you, too, of course among the number, for you'll get so parochial if you don't rub about a little, that you must travel, and then the rest will have to be 'wisely distributed,' as Mr. Hales says. Ouf!"

"Oh, dear, it is too much work," repeated Mrs. Faber, gently feeling the dinner dress between her fingers; she had never had a gown like that before, and how proud Henry would be of her appearance!

"So, Crumpet, don't ever think of me as rich. I shan't be, I'll have to screw sometimes on the allowance I'll make myself, but that's for discipline. Aunt Dove will have a nice slice of cake to make her happy—if she can be—and well, that's all, now remember I'm just the same old Toney with all her faults as of old, and too bad for anyone to love for herself, Aunt Dove says so—except you always, Crumpet. Now I'll ring for Rose to help us to dress."

"Where's your dress, dear Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber, going across to Toney's simple bedroom on which no money had been spent to embellish it.

"It's here. You see, Chum, it's only white muslin, but it's brand new and looks all right."

"Oh, Toney, much too simple, why anyone might wear that!"

"Well, I am disappointed in you! Didn't I explain quite straight I'm only Toney, and not rich, if I dressed up smart—which you know I hate any way—people would think I was rich. I believe you would like me to wear a dress of bank-notes sewed together. I did think you weren't worldly!"

"I'll try, dear, but when you make me wear such a lovely thing, though I'm only a poor clergyman's wife with three hundred a year, it doesn't seem quite——"

"It's to please me! Just for once I must have a fling, and after that I'll be as matter of fact as you like."

At this moment Rose appeared. She had been kitchen-maid, but Toney had hunted her up and turned her into a lady's maid, as Lady Dove insisted on Toney's engaging such a personage, saying her own maid had as much as she could do with her own affairs. Rose was supremely happy, but far more willing than capable, and Toney managed to do all her own toilet whilst she was getting Mrs. Faber into her dream dress. Toney had begged her uncle that they should be by themselves at Aldersfield this evening, just to seem like old times, and he had agreed, though Mr. Staines, the London lawyer, was of course one of the small party. Miss Grossman never appeared after the dinner bell had rung, and firmly refused any summons to the drawing-room after that meal, saying she had her own affairs to see after. Her ladyship had been very angry of course, and relieved her feelings by grumbling to her husband. She was discharging her wrath at him this evening before going up to dress.

"Grossman has very erroneous ideas of her duty, Evas. It's preposterous to refuse to pour out the evening tea and to take out the cards or pick up my stitches. I should never have engaged her if I could have guessed what she would be like."

"Why don't you get rid of her, Melina?"

"How aggravating you can be, Evas, you know quite well the last woman drank, and the one before was deaf and heard all awry. If I sent Grossman away, which I should dearly love to do, her successor would have a worse failing."

"Yes, most likely," he answered.

"That's just like you, Evas, you never try to help me."

"Shall I have a talk with her?"

"You have a talk with Grossman! Pray don't joke! she'd tell you to mind your own business; that woman is afraid of no one, positively no one! I wish Faber would die, and then I could have Crump back again, for then she would be penniless."

"And the two children?"

"Yes, it's really wicked of them! I should have to get them into asylums. Most provoking, ever since Antonia stepped into the house everything has gone from bad to worse. However, she is sure to get married soon for her money!"

"Did you ever think Lewis Waycott admired Toney?" said Sir Evas, hoping to please his spouse by this suggestion.

"Lewis Waycott! He's going to marry his cousin Maud. Mrs. Hamilton arranged all that long ago. But I dare say you are right, and he will throw up that nice girl for Toney's money bags. After all we have done for her—and it's entirely through me she has this money, for I told the General the plain truth about her penniless condition—I think Antonia could show her gratitude more by imitating our English manners. What's bred in the bone, I know, but she might at least pretend to be a lady."

"Pretend! You might know by this time that Toney can't pretend."

"Oh, you men are all taken with a young girl, I know! Duty goes to the wind when——"

But here Sir Evas slipped away to dress; now and then his manners failed entirely, and he did not always wait for the end of his wife's sentences. This evening, as her ladyship walked upstairs, her familiar demon provided a new torture for her. Suppose what Evas said were true, suppose Lewis Waycott fell in love with Antonia and married her and her fortune, his estate would benefit enormously, and the Waycotts would be a power in the county. "Antonia shall certainly not marry Lewis Waycott," she said to herself, "I can nip that in the bud—and I shall." Then, with a smile on her face, she rang for Rivett, who was as prim as formerly, but now she could no longer bully the companion, as Miss Grossman was fully able to keep her own position and to exact outward respect from the servants.

That evening in the drawing-room at Aldersfield, Toney's very presence seemed to shame the selfish stateliness of Lady Dove, for she had more than fulfilled the promise of beauty, though of a special kind. Her face was radiant, and her beautiful hair seemed to crown the perfect outline of her head. Her very simplicity of dress might have been premeditated, so entirely did it harmonize with the girl whose every motion was full of life and the beauty that comes from perfect unconsciousness of self. Certainly three of the people there were secretly speculating what fortunate man would win Toney's heart. At present her heart was given to humanity, and had never experienced the personal feeling which may make or mar perfect womanhood, but which never passes without leaving its trace.

Mr. Staines made a formal bow to Lady Dove and offered his arm, whilst Toney looked at Sir Evas who hesitated.

"Of course, uncle, married ladies first," and Sir Evas offered his arm to the blushing Anne Faber, but thinking of Henry she determined to make the most of herself, and Toney would be close by, besides, abroad she and Sir Evas had become most friendly, and this was a wonderful transformation. Mr. Staines was so attentive to Lady Dove that the other three were allowed to enjoy themselves.

"Are the preparations all ready, uncle? Did you see if the big barn was finally swept out, and if the rose wreaths were finished?"

"I assure you, Toney, I've worked myself to death."

"And did you send out all the invitations I wrote?"

"Every one. I got Barnes and Jones to take them round a week ago. I only hope your scrawls were readable!"

"I thought they would like it best, a personal invitation is much better, isn't it?"

"What did you say, Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber.

"Miss Toney Whitburn will be much delighted if Mrs. Spratt will come and have a dinner and dance on October 28th, at Aldersfield House. Dinner punctually at six o'clock, family included—babies taken care of."

"But you'll have all the village!"

"All uncle's people, of course. Won't it be fun! Uncle and I planned it all weeks ago. Didn't we, dear?"

"You planned it, Toney, and I said yes. I know my duty!"

"But you were as excited as I was. You know you were! I do wish my dear General were here. Do you think he and Pups will look on?"

"Well, I expect—— I shouldn't wonder," said poor Sir Evas, whose ethics of the world beyond were very hazy, "or, perhaps they can see a long way off."

"Pups said that there were no real lines of demarcation in nature, but, of course, you would not want everybody who's dead to crowd in. It's just a puzzle! The cook is excited too. Oh, Chum, I've ordered the dinner as I'm going to pay all expenses, and you'll see. It took a good deal of planning, but I didn't tell uncle all that, I was just a bit afraid he'd split on me."

"I'm as dark as the grave, Toney!" said Sir Evas laughing, "but I must say I shall be glad when it's over. One never knows with you——"

"Are we all to dance together?" asked Mrs. Faber.

"At first, but there's a ball in the big drawing-room for the people who don't care about the tenants, only they won't be half so lively. Mr. Waycott's promised he'll be at the opening of my ball, and Dr. Latham, and, of course, you and uncle. I don't think Aunt Dove will care. She says poor people are not odoriferous. It comes from their clothes being rather old. I wished we lived in the days of Henry IV., when every poor man had a fowl in his cooking-pot."

"A fowl wouldn't go far with Charles Pipkin and his family," said Sir Evas, "it did all very well for the Frenchies."

"It is fortunate girls only come of age once in their lifetime," Lady Dove was saying. "When I was young it meant a young lady was fully formed and educated, and her manners were irreproachable; I fear we can't say that of Antonia, Mr. Staines."

"All in due time, Lady Dove," was Mr. Staines' guarded answer.

"Really how horribly Grossman has arranged these flowers, and taken all my best roses too," exclaimed her ladyship. "You were much more successful, Anne Faber. It seems a pity you can no longer use your talents."

"My husband is passionately fond of flowers, we always have some on the table," murmured Mrs. Faber.

"Indeed! It's a pity flowers are not edible. Mr. Staines, how is Captain Stone. He is another eccentric creature, and has not been to see us for a long time, but he asked for a bed to-morrow."

"He told me of his intention. He was very fond of his brother."

"The General's will must have been a bitter pill to him," said Lady Dove smiling.

Mr. Staines saw clearly that it was Lady Dove who had swallowed the pill, and replied politely,

"I know that the General asked his brother's consent, and Captain Stone thought all his brother did perfect."

"Indeed! men are so deluded, I mean the old ones of course. Lewis Waycott, our neighbour, is fast turning into the same kind of man. He has become quite the farmer, don't you think so, Evas?"

"What, my dear, Lewis Waycott? Yes, certainly, excellent fellow; sees after his cottages now, and is quite a model landlord."