Henry James: Complete Stories 1864-1874 (77 page)

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the excuse of heredity. Selina had her own opinions, which were superior to this: she once remarked to Laura that it was idiotic for a woman to writeto telegraph was the only way not to get into trouble. If doing so sufficed to keep a lady out of it Mrs. Berrington's life should have flowed like the rivers of Eden.

III

Laura, as soon as her brother-in-law had been in the room a moment, had a particular fear; she had seen him twice noticeably under the influence of liquor; she had not liked it at all and now there were some of the same signs. She was afraid the children would discover them, or at any rate Miss Steet, and she felt the importance of not letting him stay in the room. She thought it almost a sign that he should have come there at allhe was so rare an apparition. He looked at her very hard, smiling as if to say, No, no, I'm notnot if you think it! She perceived with relief in a moment that he was not very bad, and liquor disposed him apparently to tenderness, for he indulged in an interminable kissing of Geordie and Ferdy, during which Miss Steet turned away delicately, looking out of the window. The little boys asked him no questions to celebrate his returnthey only announced that they were going to learn botany, to which he replied: Are you, really? Why, I never did, and looked askance at the governess, blushing as if to express the hope that she would let him off from carrying that subject further. To Laura and to Miss Steet he was amiably explanatory, though his explanations were not quite coherent. He had come back an hour beforehe was going to spend the nighthe had driven over from Churtonhe was thinking of taking the last train up to town. Was Laura dining at home? Was any one coming? He should enjoy a quiet dinner awfully.

Certainly I'm alone, said the girl. I suppose you know Selina is away.

Oh yesI know where Selina is! And Lionel Berrington looked round, smiling at every one present, including Scratch and Parson. He stopped while he continued to smile and Laura wondered what he was so much pleased at. She

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preferred not to askshe was sure it was something that wouldn't give
her
pleasure; but after waiting a moment her brother-in-law went on: Selina's in Paris, my dear; that's where Selina is!

In Paris? Laura repeated.

Yes, in Paris, my dearGod bless her! Where else do you suppose? Geordie my boy, where should
you
think your mummy would naturally be?

Oh, I don't know, said Geordie, who had no reply ready that would express affectingly the desolation of the nursery. If I were mummy I'd travel.

Well now that's your mummy's ideashe has gone to travel, returned the father. Were you ever in Paris, Miss Steet?

Miss Steet gave a nervous laugh and said No, but she had been to Boulogne; while to her added confusion Ferdy announced that he knew where Paris wasit was in America. No, it ain'tit's in Scotland! cried Geordie; and Laura asked Lionel how he knewwhether his wife had written to him.

Written to me? when did she ever write to me? No, I saw a fellow in town this morning who saw her thereat breakfast yesterday. He came over last night. That's how I know my wife's in Paris. You can't have better proof than that!

I suppose it's a very pleasant season there, the governess murmured, as if from a sense of duty, in a distant, discomfortable tone.

I daresay it's very pleasant indeedI daresay it's awfully amusing! laughed Mr. Berrington. Shouldn't you like to run over with me for a few days, Laurajust to have a go at the theatres? I don't see why we should always be moping at home. We'll take Miss Steet and the children and give mummy a pleasant surprise. Now who do you suppose she was with, in Pariswho do you suppose she was seen with?

Laura had turned pale, she looked at him hard, imploringly, in the eyes: there was a name she was terribly afraid he would mention. Oh sir, in that case we had better go and get ready! Miss Steet quavered, betwixt a laugh and a groan, in a spasm of discretion; and before Laura knew it she had gathered Geordie and Ferdy together and swept them out of the room.

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The door closed behind her with a very quick softness and Lionel remained a moment staring at it.

I say, what does she mean?ain't that damned impertinent? he stammered. What did she think I was going to say? Does she suppose I would say any harm beforebefore
her?
Dash it, does she suppose I would give away my wife to the servants? Then he added, And I wouldn't say any harm before you, Laura. You are too good and too nice and I like you too much!

Won't you come downstairs? won't you have some tea? the girl asked, uneasily.

No, no, I want to stay hereI like this place, he replied, very gently and reasoningly. It's a deuced nice placeit's an awfully jolly room. It used to be this wayalwayswhen I was a little chap. I was a rough one, my dear; I wasn't a pretty little lamb like that pair. I think it's because you look after themthat's what makes 'em so sweet. The one in my timewhat was her name? I think it was Bald or BoldI rather think she found me a handful. I used to kick her shinsI was decidedly vicious. And do
you
see it's kept so well, Laura? he went on, looking round him. 'Pon my soul, it's the prettiest room in the house. What does she want to go to Paris for when she has got such a charming house? Now can you answer me that, Laura?

I suppose she has gone to get some clothes: her dressmaker lives in Paris, you know.

Dressmaker? Clothes? Why, she has got whole rooms full of them. Hasn't she got whole rooms full of them?

Speaking of clothes I must go and change mine, said Laura. I have been out in the rainI have been to PlashI'm decidedly damp.

Oh, you have been to Plash? You have seen my mother? I hope she's in very good health. But before the girl could reply to this he went on: Now, I want you to guess who she's in Paris with. Motcomb saw them togetherat that place, what's his name? close to the Madeleine. And as Laura was silent, not wishing at all to guess, he continuedIt's the ruin of any woman, you know; I can't think what she has got in her head. Still Laura said nothing, and as he had hold of her arm, she having turned away, she led him this time out of the

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room. She had a horror of the name, the name that was in her mind and that was apparently on his lips, though his tone was so singular, so contemplative. My dear girl, she's with Lady Ringrosewhat do you say to that? he exclaimed, as they passed along the corridor to the staircase.

With Lady Ringrose?

They went over on Tuesdaythey are knocking about there alone.

I don't know Lady Ringrose, Laura said, infinitely relieved that the name was not the one she had feared. Lionel leaned on her arm as they went downstairs.

I rather hope notI promise you she has never put her foot in this house! If Selina expects to bring her here I should like half an hour's notice; yes, half an hour would do. She might as well be seen with And Lionel Berrington checked himself. She has had at least fifty And again he stopped short. You must pull me up, you know, if I say anything you don't like!

I don't understand youlet me alone, please! the girl broke out, disengaging herself with an effort from his arm. She hurried down the rest of the steps and left him there looking after her, and as she went she heard him give an irrelevant laugh.

She determined not to go to dinnershe wished for that day not to meet him again. He would drink morehe would be worseshe didn't know what he might say. Besides she was too angrynot with him but with Selinaand in addition to being angry she was sick. She knew who Lady Ringrose was; she knew so many things to-day that when she was youngerand only a littleshe had not expected ever to know. Her eyes had been opened very wide in England and certainly they had been opened to Lady Ringrose. She had heard what she had done and perhaps a good deal more, and it was not very different from what she had heard of other women. She knew Selina had been to her house; she had an impression that her ladyship had been to Selina's, in London, though she herself had not seen her there. But she had not

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known they were so intimate as thatthat Selina would rush over to Paris with her. What they had gone to Paris for was not necessarily criminal; there were a hundred reasons, familiar to ladies who were fond of change, of movement, of the theatres and of new bonnets; but nevertheless it was the fact of this little excursion quite as much as the companion that excited Laura's disgust.

She was not ready to say that the companion was any worse, though Lionel appeared to think so, than twenty other women who were her sister's intimates and whom she herself had seen in London, in Grosvenor Place, and even under the motherly old beeches at Mellows. But she thought it unpleasant and base in Selina to go abroad that way, like a commercial traveller, capriciously, clandestinely, without giving notice, when she had left her to understand that she was simply spending three or four days in town. It was bad taste and bad form, it was
cabotin
and had the mark of Selina's complete, irremediable frivolitythe worst accusation (Laura tried to cling to that opinion) that she laid herself open to. Of course frivolity that was never ashamed of itself was like a neglected coldyou could die of it morally as well as of anything else. Laura knew this and it was why she was inexpressibly vexed with her sister. She hoped she should get a letter from Selina the next morning (Mrs. Berrington would show at least that remnant of propriety) which would give her a chance to despatch her an answer that was already writing itself in her brain. It scarcely diminished Laura's eagerness for such an opportunity that she had a vision of Selina's showing her letter, laughing, across the table, at the place near the Madeleine, to Lady Ringrose (who would be paintedSelina herself, to do her justice, was not yet) while the French waiters, in white aprons, contemplated
ces dames.
It was new work for our young lady to judge of these shadesthe gradations, the probabilities of license, and of the side of the line on which, or rather how far on the wrong side, Lady Ringrose was situated.

A quarter of an hour before dinner Lionel sent word to her room that she was to sit down without himhe had a headache and wouldn't appear. This was an unexpected grace and it simplified the position for Laura; so that, smoothing her

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ruffles, she betook herself to the table. Before doing this however she went back to the schoolroom and told Miss Steet she must contribute her company. She took the governess (the little boys were in bed) downstairs with her and made her sit opposite, thinking she would be a safeguard if Lionel were to change his mind. Miss Steet was more frightened than herselfshe was a very shrinking bulwark. The dinner was dull and the conversation rare; the governess ate three olives and looked at the figures on the spoons. Laura had more than ever her sense of impending calamity; a draught of misfortune seemed to blow through the house; it chilled her feet under her chair. The letter she had in her head went out like a flame in the wind and her only thought now was to telegraph to Selina the first thing in the morning, in quite different words. She scarcely spoke to Miss Steet and there was very little the governess could say to her: she had already related her history so often. After dinner she carried her companion into the drawing-room, by the arm, and they sat down to the piano together. They played duets for an hour, mechanically, violently; Laura had no idea what the music wasshe only knew that their playing was execrable. In spite of thisThat's a very nice thing, that last, she heard a vague voice say, behind her, at the end; and she became aware that her brother-in-law had joined them again.

Miss Steet was pusillanimousshe retreated on the spot, though Lionel had already forgotten that he was angry at the scandalous way she had carried off the children from the schoolroom. Laura would have gone too if Lionel had not told her that he had something very particular to say to her. That made her want to go more, but she had to listen to him when he expressed the hope that she hadn't taken offence at anything he had said before. He didn't strike her as tipsy now; he had slept it off or got rid of it and she saw no traces of his headache. He was still conspicuously cheerful, as if he had got some good news and were very much encouraged. She knew the news he had got and she might have thought, in view of his manner, that it could not really have seemed to him so bad as he had pretended to think it. It was not the first time however that she had seen him pleased that he had a case against his wife, and she was to learn on this occasion how

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