him a good set-down when first he went to you.”
“Not intentionally. How do you go about it, milady?” she asked, quite at her ease. She would never have foreseen getting along so well with Lady Jane, who had looked the toploftiest of deVigne’s relatives, next to himself.
“Max has it down to an art. Raises those black brows of his, pinches in his nostrils, and says ‘Indeed?’ in a certain tone. He has the face to pull it off, that one. Lacking his elegance, I look the culprit dead in the eye and think of a rat. I loathe rats. Then I say ‘Really?’— drawing it out a little, or ‘Do you think so?’ or something of the sort, depending on what has preceded. But I shan’t have too much setting-down to do. I have come up with a plan, you see. You saw the first step of it this morning, with the vicar. It is not entirely unknown in the village that Andrew has had this passion to marry you the past two or three years, for the gudgeon told everyone he spoke to about you. Frankly, my dear Delsie, there has been more than one nosy Parker asking why you didn’t take him. So I mean to imply that the marriage had been planned some time ago for the Christmas holidays, which will explain your not having given any notice yet at the school, and then it was rushed forward when Andrew took ill. All a taradiddle of course, but I have only to imply to Mrs. Gardiner and a few of my cronies that you hadn’t planned to marry quite so soon, and it will be set about in no time. I daresay vicar has already told half a dozen. Not even a lie, really, for you had no idea of ever marrying him at all, till Max made you do it.”
“That sounds feasible,” Delsie admitted, with an admiring look at her astute friend.
“I enjoy scheming and conniving,” the lady admitted. “It helps to get in the days. There will be the suspecting few who think you only did it to insinuate yourself into a soft position when you knew Andrew was dying, but they won’t dare to say so. Not to you at any rate, and we need not care what is said over the teacups in Questnow.”
What a wonderful way of life! Not to care what was said over the teacups in the village. For the village teacher, what was uttered there was of vital importance. The wrong utterance could spell the end of the job.
“The next thing to decide is the where of it,” Lady Jane went on. “On such an occasion, I expect it is to the Hall that folks will go first, to offer their sympathy to Max. Might be best if we are all there en masse. The Cottage cannot be got ready in time, so it is there, the Hall, or here.”
“What will Lord deVigne expect?” she asked. She could not accuse herself of opting out of this decision. Surely it was for the family, the real family, to decide this matter, and not a stranger like herself.
“He always prefers the Hall for everything,” was the unhesitating answer. “Max has a paternal streak a mile wide. He would like to think he is my father, considers himself very much Bobbie’s, and will be trying to lead you as well if you give him half a chance. On this occasion, however, it would be as well to let everyone see the marriage has his approval, not to say connivance.”
“It was all his doing,” Delsie said at once. “I didn’t even know I meant for sure to go through with it, till I got there and saw the preacher waiting.”
“I’m sure you hadn’t a word to say about it. I nearly fell over when I saw he had even got a ring, and it isn’t Louise’s either. He would have the sense not to buy it in the village. He found time to dart over to another town to pick it up. He is thorough, you must allow. Once Max has made up his mind to a thing, it is as well as done. It was not all his doing, however. I thought of it, and Max only carried it through. He is open to suggestion. I’ll say that much for him. He is reasonably domineering. His papa, who was my cousin Pierre, was unreasonably domineering. He married my sister.”
“Is there
“Not intentionally. How do you go about it, milady?” she asked, quite at her ease. She would never have foreseen getting along so well with Lady Jane, who had looked the toploftiest of deVigne’s relatives, next to himself.
“Max has it down to an art. Raises those black brows of his, pinches in his nostrils, and says ‘Indeed?’ in a certain tone. He has the face to pull it off, that one. Lacking his elegance, I look the culprit dead in the eye and think of a rat. I loathe rats. Then I say ‘Really?’— drawing it out a little, or ‘Do you think so?’ or something of the sort, depending on what has preceded. But I shan’t have too much setting-down to do. I have come up with a plan, you see. You saw the first step of it this morning, with the vicar. It is not entirely unknown in the village that Andrew has had this passion to marry you the past two or three years, for the gudgeon told everyone he spoke to about you. Frankly, my dear Delsie, there has been more than one nosy Parker asking why you didn’t take him. So I mean to imply that the marriage had been planned some time ago for the Christmas holidays, which will explain your not having given any notice yet at the school, and then it was rushed forward when Andrew took ill. All a taradiddle of course, but I have only to imply to Mrs. Gardiner and a few of my cronies that you hadn’t planned to marry quite so soon, and it will be set about in no time. I daresay vicar has already told half a dozen. Not even a lie, really, for you had no idea of ever marrying him at all, till Max made you do it.”
“That sounds feasible,” Delsie admitted, with an admiring look at her astute friend.
“I enjoy scheming and conniving,” the lady admitted. “It helps to get in the days. There will be the suspecting few who think you only did it to insinuate yourself into a soft position when you knew Andrew was dying, but they won’t dare to say so. Not to you at any rate, and we need not care what is said over the teacups in Questnow.”
What a wonderful way of life! Not to care what was said over the teacups in the village. For the village teacher, what was uttered there was of vital importance. The wrong utterance could spell the end of the job.
“The next thing to decide is the where of it,” Lady Jane went on. “On such an occasion, I expect it is to the Hall that folks will go first, to offer their sympathy to Max. Might be best if we are all there en masse. The Cottage cannot be got ready in time, so it is there, the Hall, or here.”
“What will Lord deVigne expect?” she asked. She could not accuse herself of opting out of this decision. Surely it was for the family, the real family, to decide this matter, and not a stranger like herself.
“He always prefers the Hall for everything,” was the unhesitating answer. “Max has a paternal streak a mile wide. He would like to think he is my father, considers himself very much Bobbie’s, and will be trying to lead you as well if you give him half a chance. On this occasion, however, it would be as well to let everyone see the marriage has his approval, not to say connivance.”
“It was all his doing,” Delsie said at once. “I didn’t even know I meant for sure to go through with it, till I got there and saw the preacher waiting.”
“I’m sure you hadn’t a word to say about it. I nearly fell over when I saw he had even got a ring, and it isn’t Louise’s either. He would have the sense not to buy it in the village. He found time to dart over to another town to pick it up. He is thorough, you must allow. Once Max has made up his mind to a thing, it is as well as done. It was not all his doing, however. I thought of it, and Max only carried it through. He is open to suggestion. I’ll say that much for him. He is reasonably domineering. His papa, who was my cousin Pierre, was unreasonably domineering. He married my sister.”
“Is there
Similar Books
