BUT Stella neither shuddered nor hesitated. She was in the highest spirits, flying everywhere, scarcely touching the ground with her feet. “Oh, yes! I’m engaged to Sir Charles,” she said to all her friends. “Papa won’t hear of it, but he will have to give in.”
“Papas always give in when the young people hold out,” said some injudicious sympathiser.
“Don’t they?” cried Stella, giving a kiss to that lady. She was not in the least discouraged. There was a great deal of gaiety going on at the time, both in the village (as it was fashionable to call the town of Sliplin) and in the county, and Stella met her Charlie everywhere, Mr. Tredgold having no means, and perhaps no inclination, to put a stop to this. He did not want to interfere with her pleasures. If she liked to dance and “go on” with that fellow, let her. She should not marry him; that was all. The old gentleman had no wish to be unkind to his daughter. He desired her to have her fling like the rest, to enjoy herself as much as was possible; only for this one thing he had put down his foot.
“When is that confounded regiment going away?” he asked Katherine.
“Dear papa,” Katherine replied, “won’t you think it over again? Charlie Somers has perhaps no money, but Stella is very fond of him, and he of——”
“Hold your tongue!” said old Tredgold. “Hold your confounded tongue! If I don’t give in to her, do you think it”—with a dash—“likely that I will to you?”
Katherine retreated very quickly, for when her father began to swear she was frightened. He did not swear in an ordinary way, and visions of apoplexy were associated to her with oaths. Stella did not care. She would have let him swear as long as he liked, and paid no attention. She went to her parties almost every night, glittering in her rivière of diamonds and meeting Sir Charles everywhere. They had all the airs of an engaged couple, people said. And it was thought quite natural, for nobody believed that old Tredgold would stand out. Thus, no one gave him any warning of what was going on. The whole island was in a conspiracy on behalf of the lovers. Nor was it like any other abetting of domestic insurrection, for the opinion was unanimous that the father would give in. Why, Stella could do anything with him. Stella was his favourite, as he had shown on every possible occasion. Everybody knew it, even Katherine, who made no struggle against the fact. To think of his having the strength of mind really to deny Stella anything! It was impossible. He was playing with her a little now, only for the pleasure of being coaxed and wheedled, many people thought. But when the time came, of course he would give in. So Stella thought, like everybody else. There was nobody but Katherine and, as I have said, Somers himself who did not feel quite sure. As time went on, the two ladies who went to all the parties and saw everything—the two old cats, Mrs. Shanks and Miss Mildmay—had many consultations on the subject over the invisible rail of separation between their gardens. It was a very bright October, and even the beginning of the next dreary month was far milder than usual, and in the mornings, when the sun shone, these ladies were still to be found on their terraces, caressing the last remnants of their flowers, and cutting the last chrysanthemums or dahlias.
“Stella danced every dance last night with that Sir Charles,” Miss Mildmay said.
“But she always does, my dear; and why shouldn’t she, when she is going to marry him?”
There was really no answer to this, which was so well ascertained a fact, and which everybody knew.
“But I wonder if old Mr. Tredgold knows how much they are together! As he never goes out himself, it is so easy to keep him deceived. I wonder, Jane Shanks,” said Miss Mildmay, “whether you or I should say a word?”
“You may say as many words as you please, Ruth Mildmay; but I shan’t,” cried the other. “I would not interfere for the world.”
“I am not the least afraid of interfering,” Miss Mildmay said; and she succeeded in persuading her friend to go out in the midge once more, and call at the Cliff, on an afternoon when the girls were known to be out of the way.
“We ought, I am sure, to congratulate you, Mr. Tredgold. We heard that you did not approve, and, of course, it must be dreadful for you to think of losing Stella; but as it is going on so long, we feel, at last, that the engagement must be true.”
“What engagement?” said the old man. He liked to amuse himself with the two old cats. He put his newspaper away and prepared to “get his fun out of them.”
“Oh, the engagement between Stella and Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Shanks, with bated breath.
“Oh! they’re engaged, are they?” he said, with that laugh which was like an electrical bell.
“Dear Mr. Tredgold, it is given out everywhere. They are for ever together. They dance every dance with one another.”
“Confounded dull, I should think, for my little girl. You take my word, she’ll soon tire of that,” he said.
“Oh, but she does not tire of it; you don’t go out with them, you don’t see things. I assure you they are always together. If you don’t approve of it, Mr. Tredgold, indeed—indeed you should put a stop to it. It isn’t kind to dear Stella.”
“Oh, stop, stop, Ruth Mildmay!” cried Mrs. Shanks. “Stella knows very well just how far she can go. Stella would never do anything that was displeasing to her dear papa. May I pour out the tea for you, dear Mr. Tredgold, as the girls are not in?”
Mr. Tredgold gave the permission with a wave of his hand, and hoped that Miss Mildmay would say just as much as she pleased.
“I like to know what my girls do when they’re out,” he said. “I like to know that Stella is enjoying herself. That’s what they go out for. Just to get themselves as much pleasure as is to be had, in their own way.”
“But you would not wish them to compromise themselves,” said Miss Mildmay. “Oh, I wouldn’t interfere for the world. But as you don’t go out with them you ought to be told. I do hope you approve of Sir Charles, Mr. Tredgold. He is a nice young man enough. He has been a little fast; but so have they all; and he is old enough now to have more sense. I am sure he will make you a very good son-in-law. So long as you approve——”
“I approve of my little girl enjoying herself,” said the old man. “Bring some more muffins, John; there’s plenty in the house, I hope. I know why you won’t take that piece, Miss Mildmay, because it is the last in the plate, and you think you will never be married.” He accompanied this with a tremendous tinkle of a laugh, as if it were the greatest joke in the world.
Miss Mildmay waved her hand with dignity, putting aside the foolish jest, and also putting aside the new dish of muffins, which that dignity would not permit her to touch.
“The question is,” she said, “not my marriage, which does not concern you, Mr. Tredgold, but dear Stella’s, which does.”
“Mr. Tredgold is so fond of his joke,” Mrs. Shanks said.
“Yes, I’m fond of my joke, ain’t I? I’m a funny man. Many of the ladies call me so. Lord! I like other people to have their fun too. Stella’s welcome to hers, as long as she likes. She’s a kitten, she is; she goes on playin’ and springin’ as long as anybody will fling a bit of string at her. But she’s well in hand all the same. She knows, as you say, just how far to go.”
“Then she has your approval, we must all presume,” said Miss Mildmay, rising from her chair, though Mrs. Shanks had not half finished her tea.
“Oh, she’s free to have her fun,” Mr. Tredgold said.
What did it mean, her fun? This question was fully discussed between the two ladies in the midge. Marriage is no fun, if it comes to that, they both agreed, and the phrase was very ambiguous; but still, no man in his senses, even Mr. Tredgold, could allow his young daughter to make herself so conspicuous if he did not mean to consent in the end.
“I am very glad to hear, Stella, that it is all right about your marriage,” Mrs. Shanks said next time she met the girls. “Your papa would not say anything very definite; but still, he knows all about it, and you are to take your own way, as he says.”
“Did he say I was to have my own way?” said Stella, in a flush of pleasure.
“At least, he said the same thing. Yes, I am sure that was what he meant. He was full of his jokes, don’t you know? But that must have been what he meant; and I am sure I wish you joy with all my heart, Stella, dear.”
Stella went dancing home after this, though Katherine walked very gravely by her side.
“I knew papa would give in at last. I knew he never would stand against me, when he knew I was in earnest this time,” she cried.
“Do you think he would tell Mrs. Shanks, after sending off both of us, and frightening me?”
“You are so easily frightened,” cried Stella. “Yes, I shouldn’t wonder at all if he told Mrs. Shanks. He likes the two old cats; he knows they will go and publish it all over the place. He would think I should hear just as soon as if he had told me, and so I have. I will run in and give him a kiss, for he is a dear old soul, after all.”
Stella did run in and gave her father a tumultuous kiss, and roused him out of a nap.
“Oh, papa, you dear, you old darling—you best papa in the world!” she cried.
Mr. Tredgold felt a little cross at first, but the kiss and the praises were sweet to him. He put his arms round her as she stood over him.
“What have I done now?” he said, with his tinkling laugh.
“You have done just what I wanted most—what it was dearest of you to do,” she cried. “Mrs. Shanks told me. You told her, of course, dear papa, because you knew it would be published directly all over the place.”
“Oh, the two old cats!” he said, tinkling more than ever. “That’s what they made of it, is it? I said you might have your fun, my dear. You are free to have your fun as much as ever you like. That’s what I said, and that’s what I shall say as long as you’re amusing yourself, Stella. You can have your fling; I shan’t stop you. Enjoy yourself as long as you can, if that’s what you like,” he said.
“Oh, papa, what do you mean—what do you mean?” cried Stella. “Don’t you mean, dear papa,” she continued, with renewed caresses, putting her arms round his neck, pressing his bald head upon her breast, “that you’ll let Charlie come—that he needn’t go to India, that we are to be married, and that you’ll give us your blessing, and—and everything? That is what you mean, isn’t it, dear papa?”
“Don’t strangle me, child,” he said, coughing and laughing. “There’s such a thing, don’t you know? as to be killed with kindness. I’ve told you what I’ll do, my dear,” he continued. “I shall let you have your fun as long as ever you like. You can dance with him down to the very ship’s side, if you please. That won’t do any harm to me, but he don’t set a foot in this house unless he’s ready to table pound for pound with me. Where’s his shillin’s, by the way, Katie? He ought to have had his shillin’s; he might have wanted them, poor man. Ah, don’t strangle me, I tell you, Stella!”
“I wish I could!” cried Stella, setting her little teeth. “You deserve it, you old dreadful, dreadful——”
“What is she saying, Kate? Never mind; it was swearing or something, I suppose—all the fault of those old cats, not mine. I said she should have her swing, and she can have her swing and welcome. That’s what she wants, I suppose. You have always had your fun, Stella. You don’t know what a thing it is to have your fun and nobody to oppose you. I never had that in my life. I was always pulled up sharp. Get along now, I want my nap before dinner; but mind, I have said all I’m going to say. You can have your fun, and he can table down pound for pound with me, if he has the money—otherwise, not another word. I may be a funny man,” said Mr. Tredgold, “but when I put my foot down, none of you will get it up again, that’s all I have got to say.”
“You are a very hard, cruel, tyrannical father,” said Stella, “and you never will have any love from anyone as long as you live!”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, with a grimace, preparing to fling his handkerchief over his head, which was his way when he went to sleep.
“Oh, papa!—oh, dear papa! Of course I did not mean that. I want no fling and no fun, but to settle down with Charlie, and to be always ready when you want me as long as I live.”
“You shall settle down with some man as I approve of, as can count down his hundreds and his thousands on the table, Stella. That’s what you are going to do.”
“Papa, you never would be so cruel to me, your little Stella? I will have no man if I have not Charlie—never, never, if he had all the money in the world.”
“Well, there’s no hurry; you’re only twenty,” he said, blinking at her with sleepy eyes. “I don’t want to get rid of you. You may give yourself several years to have your fun before you settle down.”
Stella, standing behind her father’s bald and defenceless head, looked for a minute or two like a pretty but dreadful demon, threatening him with a raised fist and appalling looks. Suddenly, however, there came a transformation scene—her arms slid round his neck once more; she put her cheek against his bald head. “Papa,” she said, her voice faltering between fury and the newly-conceived plan, which, in its way, was fun, “you gave me a kind of an alternative once. You said, if I didn’t have Charlie——”
“Well?” said the old man, waking up, with a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“I could have—you said it yourself—anything else I liked,” said Stella, drooping over the back of his chair. Was she ashamed of herself, or was she secretly overcome with something, either laughter or tears?
“Stella,” cried Katharine, “do come away now and let papa rest.” The elder sister’s face was full of alarm, but for what she was frightened she could scarcely herself have said.
“Let her get it out,” cried Mr. Tredgold. “Speak up, Stella, my little girl; out with it, my pet. What would it like from its papa?”
“You said I might have anything I liked—more diamonds, a lot of new dresses——”
“And so you shall,” he said, chuckling, till it was doubtful if he would ever recover his breath. “That’s my little girl down to the ground—that’s my pet! That’s the woman all over—just the woman I like! You shall have all that—diamonds? Yes, if I’d to send out to wherever they come from. And frocks? As many as you can set your face to. Give me a kiss, Stella, and that’s a bargain, my dear.”
“Very well, papa,” said Stella, with dignity, heaving a soft sigh. “You will complete the parure, please; a handsome pendant, and a star for my hair, and a bracelet—but handsome, really good, fit for one of the princesses.”
“As good as they make ’em, Stella.”
“And I must have them,” she said languidly, “for that ball that is going to be given to the regiment before they go away. As for the dresses,” she added, with more energy, “papa, I shall fleece you—I shall rob you! I will order everything I take a fancy to—everything that is nice, everything that is dear. I shall ruin you!” she cried, clapping her hands together with a sound like a pistol-shot over his head.
Through all this the tinkling of his laugh had run on. It burst out now and had a little solo of its own, disturbed by a cough, while the girls were silent and listened. “That’s the sort of thing,” he cried. “That’s my Stella—that’s my pet! Ruin me! I can stand it. Have them as dear as they’re made. I’ll write for the diamonds to-night; and you shall go to the ball all shinin’ from head to foot, my Stella—that’s what you’ve always been since you were born—my little star!”
Then she pulled the handkerchief over his head, gave him a kiss through it, and hurried away.
“Oh, Stella, Stella!” cried Katherine under her breath. She repeated the words when they had gone into their own room. Stella, flushed and excited, had thrown herself upon the stool before the piano and began to play wildly, with jars and crashes of sound. “Oh, Stella, how dared you do such a thing? How dared you barter away your love, for he is your love, for diamonds and frocks? Oh, Stella, you are behaving very, very badly. I am not fond of Charles Somers; but surely, if you care for him at all, he is worth more than that. And how dared you—how dared you sell him—to papa?”
But Stella said never a word. She went on playing wild chords and making crashes of dreadful sound, which, to Katherine, who was more or less a musician, were beyond bearing. She seized her sister’s arm after a moment and stopped her almost violently. “Stop that, stop that, and answer me!” she cried.
“Don’t you like my music, Kate? It was all out of my own head—what you call improvising. I thought you would like me to go to the piano for comfort. So it is an ease to one’s mind—it lets the steam off,” cried Stella with a last crash, louder and more discordant than the others. Then she abandoned the piano and threw herself down in a chair.
“Wasn’t that a funny talk I had with papa? You may tell Charlie, if you like, it will amuse him so. They would all think it the most glorious. I shall tell it to everybody when I am on the——”
Here Stella stopped, and gave her sister a half-inquiring, half-malicious look, but found no response in Katherine’s grieved eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean, Stella,” she said. “If you mean what papa thinks, it is the most odious, humiliating bargain; if you mean something else, it is—but I can’t say what it is, for I don’t know what you mean. You are going to be a traitor one way or else another, either to Charlie or to papa. I don’t know which is worse, to break that man’s heart (for he is fond of you) by throwing him over at the last moment, or to steal papa’s money and break his heart too.”
“You needn’t trouble yourself so much about people’s hearts, Kate. How do you know that Charlie would have me if he thought papa wouldn’t give in? And, as for papa’s heart, he would only have to give in, and then all would be right. It isn’t such a complicated matter as you think. You are so fond of making out that things are complicated. I think them quite simple. Papa has just to make up his mind which he likes best, me or his money. He thinks he likes his money best. Well, perhaps later he will find he doesn’t, and then he has only got to change. Where’s the difficulty? As for me, you must just weave webs about me as long as you please. I am not complicated—not a bit. I shall do what I like best. I am not sure even now which I like best, but I shall know when the time comes. And in the meantime I am laying up all the best evidence to judge from. I shall send Stevens up to town for patterns to-morrow. I shall get the very richest and the very dearest things that Madame has or can get. Oh,” cried the girl, clapping her hands with true enjoyment, “what fun it will be!”