Evelyn folded her ball dress and tried to be resigned. The dress was a triumph for clever economy, but it was not all she wanted, and she thought luckier girls would know the country milliner’s touch. The shoes and gloves, for which she had sent to town, however, ought to be good, and would soon arrive by the evening post.
After a few minutes she heard steps on the gravel path, and a servant carried in some letters and packages. Mrs. Haigh gave Evelyn the packages and cut open the envelopes. By and by she looked up.
“The letter is from Kit; he sticks to his undertaking scrupulously. Some time must go before his next letter is due, but he thought he might be allowed to write me, and his news is not very good. He’s still at the company’s workshops, and doubts if he will get back to the bridge. I imagine he’s disturbed about it; but you can have the letter. It’s not at all romantic.”
“Kit is scrupulous,” said Evelyn, and took the letter.
The lamp was between her and Mrs. Haigh, and to know she could not be studied was some relief. On the surface, Kit’s remarks were cheerful, but Evelyn knew him to be disappointed and saw he thought he must be frank. He got the same pay as at the bridge, but his work was a junior draftsman’s work. At the drawing office one could not use one’s abilities, promotion was slow, and so forth.
Evelyn frowned, for although she was sorry for Kit she was resentful. Kit did not know when his luck was good. In England, his folly had cost him his uncle’s support; in Canada he had, with typical rashness, refused to seize a fresh opportunity. Well, she must not allow Kit’s disappointment to damp her spirits for the ball, and she began to open the packages.
The shoes and gloves were satisfactory, and she picked up a small cardboard box. She thought she had ordered nothing that would go into the box, and with some curiosity she broke the seal. Inside was a Russia leather case, and in the case a jewel. Evelyn’s eyes sparkled, but she covered the box with her hand. Mrs. Haigh studied a document, and her look implied that the document was the dressmaker’s bill. Evelyn took a card from the box and knew Ledward’s hand. He stated that her birthday was soon and he hoped she would wear his present at the ball. If he could get there he would claim a dance.
For a few minutes Evelyn was very quiet. Her birthday was not yet, but it looked as if Harry knew she wanted an ornament for her ball dress. He knew her proper color; Harry noted things like that. The trouble was, he would think her wearing his present significant, and she had meant to use Kit’s.
The jewel Kit had given her was small and the setting plain. Harry’s was large, and the goldsmith had used his art to mark its beauty. Evelyn noted the contrast. She ought to wear Kit’s humble gift and send back the other, but she hesitated. Her jewels were few; the splendid stone sparkled, and she would hate to let it go. Then Harry would see all her refusal implied.
Evelyn admitted she did not want him to see. Kit was her lover, but he was at the Canadian bridge works and she must stay at dreary Netherdale. Sometimes Harry banished the dreariness, and although he was not, like Kit, romantic, he was clever and would be rich. He stood for much she wanted: modern cultivation, fashion, and the thrill of the city. If she married Ledward——
She stopped. She did not want to marry Ledward, but she saw where she rather carelessly went, and where Ledward, who was not at all careless, tried to steer her. In the meantime she must wear one of the two presents, and she shrank from choosing. Besides, if she chose Harry’s she could not cheat her mother. Getting up, she carried the box to Mrs. Haigh.
“The note is Harry Ledward’s.”
Mrs. Haigh took the jewel, and when it sparkled under the lamp her mouth got tight. Then she studied the writing on the card and smiled.
“He shows some tact.”
“Harry is tactful,” said Evelyn. “But I don’t see what I ought to do.”
Mrs. Haigh gave her a keen glance. Evelyn’s color was rather high and her hands were not still.
“My rules are old-fashioned, but when I was a girl one took presents only from the man one was going to marry. In the circumstances, your hesitating is perhaps ominous.”
“I rather think some modern girls take all the presents they can get,” Evelyn remarked.
“Had Harry considered you their sort, he would not have sent the jewel.”
“Then you think I might keep his present?”
“I think you ought to weigh things; perhaps you have begun to do so,” Mrs. Haigh replied in a meaning voice. “Kit is an attractive fellow, but some talent for engineering and music is all he has.”
“Yet you knew his poverty and you were his champion!”
“I am Kit’s friend, but I am your mother, and I would sooner you did not begin a fight like mine. To go without is not all the trouble; poverty means hateful shabbiness and humiliating pretense. Then Kit was not forced to be poor. He was willing, in a sense he chose, to be poor.”
Evelyn felt the statement was accurate, and she waited. For a few moments Mrs. Haigh pondered and then resumed:
“Kit is properly Jasper Carson’s heir, and I believed Jasper meant to acknowledge his claim. His plan was to try Kit at the shipyard, and if he was satisfied send him to the forge. By and by Kit might have been his partner. The trial was not satisfactory——”
“But you admitted you did not doubt Kit’s innocence.”
“I think Kit, carried away by his boyish generosity, paid for another’s fault,” Mrs. Haigh agreed. “The important thing is, Jasper knew. When Kit resolved to start for Canada, his uncle was willing to help, and although Kit did not want his help, I doubt if he was offended. He liked the boy’s independence. In fact, Kit got his chance to vindicate himself.”
Evelyn saw a light and the blood came to her skin. Kit’s innocence and his romantic charm had not moved her mother. Only his uncle’s suppostitious plans for him had weighed. Mrs. Haigh had reckoned on his being Jasper’s heir.
“You imply he disappointed Jasper another time?”
“It is rather obvious,” Mrs. Haigh replied. “As soon as Kit arrived in Canada he joined his uncle’s antagonists. Then he gave up his appointment and went to the bridge works, where he admits he cannot make much progress. He does not state why he went, but I expect something like a repetition of his folly at the shipyard accounts for it. Well, Jasper Carson is sternly practical, and has no use for fools. He has done with Kit!”
“You want me to copy Jasper?” said Evelyn in a queer, hard voice.
“I want you to consider. That is all,” said Mrs. Haigh, and went off quietly.
Evelyn put away her clothes and gloves and sat down by the fire; she felt she did not want to go to the ball. Harry was going, and he had forced her to indicate whether she was loyal to Kit. If she sent back his present, he would know.
Then her mother’s calculating cleverness jarred. Mrs. Haigh had supported Kit because she thought him Jasper’s favorite; when she knew he was not she supported Ledward. She knew where to stop, and when she had pointed out the consequences of Kit’s folly she allowed Evelyn to finish the argument. Since Harry had the advantages Kit ought to have got, the argument was plain.
Although Evelyn knew herself shabby, the advantages weighed. She liked a noble part, and until Kit let her down she had meant to be noble. Romance called, but to follow romance one must be brave, and Evelyn knew her pluck was not very great. Besides, Harry attracted her; he was really her sort, and to some extent Kit was not. In fact, had she not known Kit——
Mechanically she picked up the leather case and pressed the spring. The jewel flashed in the light, and she knew she would hate to send it back. She would go to the ball and trust her luck.
The ballroom at the big country house was crowded and the floor was good. Evelyn was a graceful dancer and her partners were numerous, but she refused to fill her card. Since she had put on Harry’s present he was entitled to some reward. Yet she was not ready to give all she thought he claimed, and she rather hoped he would not arrive. In the meantime the music, the crowd and the beat of feet carried her away. She liked excitement and admiration, and she followed her bent. When the dance was over she must go back, like Cinderella, to Mrs. Haigh’s quiet house. Evelyn felt she hated the bleak moors, the savage wind, and the clouds that rolled about Netherdale.
At length, when she talked to a young sportsman, Ledward crossed the floor. By contrast with her brown-skinned, athletic partner, Harry’s figure was bulky, but he carried his weight well, and Evelyn noted his urbane confidence. He had remarked that she wore the jewel, and her heart beat.
“I hope you have not forgotten me,” he said, and took her from the other.
“I have kept two dances.”
“Then I claim both. I don’t know if one can earn a favor like that, but I’ve made some effort. We lunched at Glasgow with a shipyard manager who wanted some expensive forgings for a new liner, and for some time it looked as if I ought to stay; but Jasper’s a sport, and when he knew I’d fixed to meet you he sent me off. Then the express was late, and at Carlisle my train was gone. I was forced to use the other line and hire a car for twenty miles.”
“You were very keen.”
“I don’t boast. All I wanted was to apologize because I did not arrive before,” Ledward rejoined.
Evelyn doubted. She thought Harry wanted to imply that he was occupied by important transactions and, so to speak, stood for power and riches. To some extent he did so, but the power was Jasper Carson’s, and Harry admitted that Jasper let him go. Somehow it bothered Evelyn. She was vaguely, and perhaps instinctively, afraid of Jasper.
“At all events, your keenness was rather nice,” she said with a smile, and allowed Ledward to steer her into the dance.
The music was good. Although Ledward was strongly built his step was light, and Evelyn gave herself to the rhythm of the swinging tune. She need not measure distance and avoid collision. To do so was Harry’s business, and he knew his part. Evelyn thought it important. Harry’s rules were her rules, and if she agreed, he would carry her soberly along the safe, beaten track.
For all that, she was vaguely disturbed. Not long since she had dreamed about plunging into the wilds with Kit. Kit had a strange, elfin charm the other had not. He indulged his rather fantastic imagination and he had fired hers. She wanted to follow him and share his romantic adventures, but she was afraid.
With something of an effort she banished her moody thoughts. She knew Ledward saw the jewel shine on her white skin and she felt his grasp get firm, but she did not get the thrill she got when Kit told her she was beautiful. The beauty Kit saw was not the beauty that moved Ledward, and she knew it was not really hers. Yet she had loved Kit for his generous trust.
When they swung at a turn, Ledward held her tight and the jewel touched his coat.
“You dear!” he said softly, but his voice was calm and somehow confident.
Soon afterwards the music stopped and he steered her to a bench.
“The next dance is mine; but perhaps you are tired?”
“Since you were at Glasgow and drove across the moors, I doubt if you are very fresh,” said Evelyn.
“In the morning I must be at Sheffield. All the same, if you were my partner I’d dance until daybreak.”
“Then you start to-night?”
“In an hour,” said Ledward. “Since you must dance with others, I’m willing to take the road.”
“To get the Sheffield train you must cross the moors again. Then you must wait for some time at the bleak junction. Don’t you feel you’re rash?”
“Not at all,” said Ledward, smiling. “I expect you know I am cautious, but when I started from Glasgow I didn’t bother about the obstacles. All I thought about was the dance I hoped to get.”
“Then you must take the next. The band has changed the music. Let’s get up.”
The violins began, and Ledward gave Evelyn his arm, but he did not take all the dance. When they swung past a door he swept her from the gliding crowd and into the quiet hall. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her.
“You darling!” he said. “When will you marry me?”
Evelyn firmly pushed him back. Her heart beat and her color came and went. To face the crisis was harder than she had thought.
“You mustn’t,” she said. “You know I’m going to marry Kit!”
Ledward smiled and indicated a bench by the fireplace. Nobody was about, and he leaned against the Jacobean carving a yard or two off.
“Was there not a stipulation? Kit must make good? From a practical point of view, he will not do so. Besides, one cannot marry a will-o’-the-wisp. Kit is something like that.”
“At all events, Kit is luminous,” Evelyn rejoined. “He shines in dreary places, and one likes to follow the light.”
“Ah,” said Ledward, “I’m a sober fellow and I have got an awkward antagonist. Kit is fantastic and elusive; but your charm is, you are flesh and blood. You cannot go where Kit goes; he’d lead you into a bog. We are sober people and we need much Kit thinks of no account; for example, money, proper food, fashionable clothes, and houses like our host’s——”
He indicated the spacious, panelled hall, and Evelyn heard the violins and the beat of dancing feet. She knew Harry’s argument was sound, but her eyes sparkled.
“My ambition’s not altogether mean. And if I do like pretty clothes and beautiful houses, I could go without.”
“You’re a darling!” Ledward declared. “For all that, we live in a modern, materialistic world, and Kit, so to speak, does not.”
“There’s another thing,” Evelyn resumed. “Your present is beautiful, but when you sent it you thought you would force me—— Kit would not have used your plan.”
“It’s possible. Perhaps I was shabby; but when I weighed all I risked, my pluck vanished. I thought, if you were very kind, you might make a sign——Well, you wear my gift. Will you marry me, Evelyn?”
“At the beginning you inquired when I would marry you, and now you’re modest I like you better,” Evelyn rejoined. “I don’t know, Harry. If you urge me, I must refuse——”
She stopped, for a young man crossed the floor. “Sorry I didn’t find you,” he said in an apologetic voice. “The band has played the best half of our dance.”
“Then we mustn’t miss the other half,” Evelyn replied, and giving Ledward a smile, went off.