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第61节

armadale-第61节

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promising quite as fairly for the future as it had promised at
first。

CHAPTER VII。

THE PLOT THICKENS。

Two messages were waiting for Allan when he returned to the
house。 One had been left by Midwinter。 〃He had gone out for a
long walk; and Mr。 Armadale was not to be alarmed if he did not
get back till late in the day。〃 The other message had been left
by 〃a person from Mr。 Pedgift's office;〃 who had called;
according to appointment; while the two gentlemen were away at
the major's。 〃Mr。 Bashwood's respects; and he would have the
honor of waiting on Mr。 Armadale again in the course of the
evening。〃

Toward five o'clock; Midwinter returned; pale and silent。 Allan
hastened to assure him that his peace was made at the cottage;
and then; to change the subject; mentioned Mr。 Bashwood's
message。 Midwinter's mind was so preoccupied or so languid that
he hardly seemed to remember the name。 Allan was obliged to
remind him that Bashwood was the elderly clerk; whom Mr。 Pedgift
had sent to be his instructor in the duties of the steward's
office。 He listened without making any remark; and withdrew to
his room; to rest till dinner…time。

Left by himself; Allan went into the library; to try if he could
while away the time over a book。

He took many volumes off the shelves; and put a few of them back
again; and there he ended。 Miss Milroy contrived in some
mysterious manner to get; in this case; between the reader and
the books。 Her formal bow and her merciless parting speech dwelt;
try how he might to forget them; on Allan's mind; he began to
grow more and more anxious as the idle hour wore on; to recover
his lost place in her favor。 To call again that day at the
cottage; and ask if he had been so unfortunate as to offend her;
was impossible。 To put the question in writing with the needful
nicety of expression proved; on trying the experiment; to be a
task beyond his literary reach。 After a turn or two up and down
the room; with his pen in his mouth; he decided on the more
diplomatic course (which happened; in this case; to be the
easiest course; too); of writing to Miss Milroy as cordially as
if nothing had happened; and of testing his position in her good
graces by the answer that she sent him back。 An invitation of
some kind (including her father; of course; but addressed
directly to herself) was plainly the right thing to oblige her to
send a written reply; but here the difficulty occurred of what
the invitation was to be。 A ball was not to be thought of; in his
present position with the resident gentry。 A dinner…party; with
no indispensable elderly lady on the premises to receive Miss
Milroyexcept Mrs。 Gripper; who could only receive her in the
kitchenwas equally out of the question。 What was the invitation
to be? Never backward; when he wanted help; in asking for it
right and left in every available direction; Allan; feeling
himself at the end of his own resources; coolly rang the bell;
and astonished the servant who answered it by inquiring how the
late family at Thorpe Ambrose used to amuse themselves; and what
sort of invitations they were in the habit of sending to their
friends。

〃The family did what the rest of the gentry did; sir;〃 said the
man; staring at his master in utter bewilderment。 〃They gave
dinner…parties and balls。 And in fine summer weather; sir; like
this; they sometimes had lawn…parties and picnics〃

〃That'll do!〃 shouted Allan。 〃A picnic's just the thing to please
her。 Richard; you're an invaluable man; you may go downstairs
again。〃

Richard retired wondering; and Richard's master seized his ready
pen。


〃DEAR MISS MILROYSince I left you it has suddenly struck me
that we might have a picnic。 A little change and amusement (what
I should call a good shaking…up; if I wasn't writing to a young
lady) is just the thing for you; after being so long indoors
lately in Mrs。 Milroy's room。 A picnic is a change; and (when the
wine is good) amusement; too。 Will you ask the major if he will
consent to the picnic; and come? And if you have got any friends
in the neighborhood who like a picnic; pray ask them too; for I
have got none。 It shall be your picnic; but I will provide
everything and take everybody。 You shall choose the day; and we
will picnic where you like。 I have set my heart on this picnic。

〃Believe me; ever yours;

〃ALLAN ARMADALE。〃


On reading over his composition before sealing it up; Allan
frankly acknowledged to himself; this time; that it was not quite
faultless。 〃 'Picnic' comes in a little too often;〃 he said。
〃Never mind; if she likes the idea; she won't quarrel with that。〃
He sent off the letter on the spot; with strict instructions to
the messenger to wait for a reply。

In half an hour the answer came back on scented paper; without an
erasure anywhere; fragrant to smell; and beautiful to see。

The presentation of the naked truth is one of those exhibitions
from which the native delicacy of the female mind seems
instinctively to revolt。 Never were the tables turned more
completely than they were now turned on Allan by his fair
correspondent。 Machiavelli himself would never have suspected;
from Miss Milroy's letter; how heartily she had repented her
petulance to the young squire as soon as his back was turned; and
how extravagantly delighted she was when his invitation was
placed in her hands。 Her letter was the composition of a model
young lady whose emotions are all kept under parental lock and
key; and served out for her judiciously as occasion may re quire。
〃Papa;〃 appeared quite as frequently in Miss Milroy's reply as
〃picnic〃 had appeared in Allan's invitation。 〃Papa〃 had been as
considerately kind as Mr。 Armadale in wishing to procure her a
little change and amusement; and had offered to forego his usual
quiet habits and join the picnic。 With 〃papa's〃 sanction;
therefore; she accepted; with much pleasure; Mr。 Armadale's
proposal; and; at 〃papa's〃 suggestion; she would presume on Mr。
Armadale's kindness to add two friends of theirs recently settled
at Thorpe Ambrose; to the picnic partya widow lady and her son;
the latter in holy orders and in delicate health。 If Tuesday next
would suit Mr。 Armadale; Tuesday next would suit 〃papa〃being
the first day he could spare from repairs which were required by
his clock。 The rest; by 〃papa's〃 advice; she would beg to leave
entirely in Mr。 Armadale's hands; and; in the meantime; she would
remain; with 〃papa's〃 compliments; Mr。 Armadale's trulyELEANOR
MILROY。〃

Who would ever have supposed that the writer of that letter had
jumped for joy when Allan's invitation arrived? Who would ever
have suspected that there was an entry already in Miss Milroy's
diary; under that day's date; to this effect: 〃The sweetest;
dearest letter from _I…know…who;_ I'll never behave unkindly to
him again as long as I live?〃 As for Allan; he was charmed with
the sweet success of his maneuver。 Miss Milroy had accepted his
invitation; consequently; Miss Milroy was not offended with him。
It was on the tip of his tongue to mention the correspondence to
his friend when they met at dinner。 But there was something in
Midwinter's face and manner (even plain enough for Allan to see)
which warned him to wait a little before he said anything to
revive the painful subject of their visit to the cottage。 By
common consent they both avoided all topics connected with Thorpe
Ambrose; not even the visit from Mr。 Bashwood; which was to come
with the evening; being referred to by either of them。 All
through the dinner they drifted further and further back into the
old endless talk of past times about ships and sailing。 When the
butler withdrew from his attendance at table; he came downstairs
with a nautical problem on his mind; and asked his
fellow…servants if they any of them knew the relative merits 〃on
a wind〃 and 〃off a wind〃 of a schooner and a brig。

The two young men had sat longer at table than usual that day。
When they went out into the garden with their cigars; the summer
twilight fell gray and dim on lawn and flower bed; and narrowed
round them by slow degrees the softly fading circle of the
distant view。 The dew was heavy; and; after a few minutes in the
garden; they agreed to go back to the drier ground on the drive
in front of the house。

They were close to the turning which led into the shrubbery; when
there suddenly glided out on them; from behind the foliage; a
softly stepping black figurea shadow; moving darkly through the
dim evening light。 Midwinter started back at the sight of it; and
even the less finely strung nerves of his friend were shaken for
the moment。

〃Who the devil are you?〃 cried Allan。

The figure bared its head in the gray light; and came slowly a
step nearer。 Midwinter advanced a step on his side; and looked
closer。 It was the man of the timid manners and the mourning
garments; of whom he had asked the way to Thorpe Ambrose where
the three roads met。

〃Who are you?〃 repeated Allan。

〃I humbly beg your pardon; sir;〃 faltered the stranger; stepping
back again; confusedly。 〃The servants told me I should find Mr。
Armadale〃

〃What; are you Mr。 Bashwood?〃

〃Yes; if you please; sir。〃

〃I beg your pardon for s

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