Jane Ashford (4 page)

The older couple turned hastily. The kitten was indeed disappearing in a small copse nearby. “Oh, what a tiresome animal,” said Aggie.

“I’ll get him,” cried George, and he ran after Brutus, returning in a moment with the indignant kitten under one arm.

“We must go back and fetch his basket at once,” added Aggie. “Here, give him to me. I shan’t let go until he is safely shut up again.” She looked down. “You will stay in the house after this, sir.”

“It wasn’t Butus’s fault,” said Alice. “George put him on the boat.”

“That is true. Well, we shall see.” Aggie turned to Mr. Dudley. “Thank you again. It really was kind of you to rescue Brutus as you did.”

“You are quite welcome. But can I not walk along with you a little? To… to see that he does not get in any more trouble?” He smiled down at her.

“Well, well I…” Aggie stopped. She had suddenly remembered her position in the Wellfleets’ house and this man’s ignorance of it. She felt that he must have a false impression of her, especially dressed as she was in Mrs. Wellfleet’s gown. “I am the children’s governess,” she blurted.

“Really?” he replied, nothing but friendly interest in his voice. “How does that come about?”

Aggie blinked and began to walk back the way they had come, partly to conceal her confusion. She had expected some stronger reaction to her confession. Unable to think of anything else to say, she found herself telling John Dudley how she had come to be the Wellfleets’ governess.

“Are you serious?” he said at one point. “Your aunt left a fortune to a pack of cats?”

Aggie nodded.

“But surely such a will could be set aside? It is outrageous.”

“The solicitor said not. It was all very legal. And our aunt did not have any real obligation to us, you see.”

“Nonsense. Of course she did. She took you in, didn’t you say? That made her responsible.”

Aggie shrugged.

They had reached the basket by this time, and Aggie deposited Brutus in it before picking it up to return to the house. Mr. Dudley’s stockings had nearly dried, and he put his boots back on and prepared to mount his horse again.

“I do thank you,” said Aggie, holding out her hand.

“My pleasure, I assure you. I hope I may call tomorrow, to see that Brutus has taken no lasting hurt.” His blue eyes twinkled.

But the girl looked down. “I don’t know… that is, I shall have to ask Mrs. Wellfleet if it is all right.”

“Oh, it’s all right with Anne. She’s used to having me about the house. But what about you?” He bent his head, trying to catch her eye.

Aggie struggled with herself. She felt that it would be very pleasant to see this man again. But she was not sure it was right to receive callers when she was, after all, an employee in the house.

“Come, you could endure a little further conversation with your childhood tormentor, couldn’t you?” he continued. “You must give me a chance to make up for my cloddishness. And I can tell you everything that has happened since you went away.”

“Oh, I would like that,” said Aggie.

“Capital. I’ll come tomorrow, then.”

“Come
on
, Miss Hartington,” called George from ahead of them. “I’m
hungry
.”

John Dudley laughed. “One cannot stand against that. Good day. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“G-good day.”

He mounted and rode off as Aggie stood watching. She didn’t move for a moment; then George repeated, “Miss Hartington!” and she hurried after her charges.

At dinner that evening, Aggie told the Wellfleets about her morning encounter. She felt some slight embarrassment as she did so, though she could not have told just why. But they heard it calmly, Mr. Wellfleet merely remarking that John Dudley was a good fellow and his wife smiling silently. However, when Aggie had left the table to go upstairs, Anne Wellfleet turned to her husband triumphantly. “Didn’t I say so?” she challenged him. “She is so pretty, every young man in the neighborhood will soon be hanging about. And a good thing, too! A proper husband is just the thing for her, poor girl.” She laughed and clapped her hands together. “Why, I believe I shall marry her to John Dudley. He is charming, and with a tidy little estate as well.”

Her husband laughed indulgently. “John may have something to say about it, you know. He is well able to decide for himself whom he wishes to marry.”

“Nonsense! No mere man can do that.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Indeed? And I thought that
I
had.”

Mrs. Wellfleet rose and went to drop a kiss on the top of his head. “Poor goose. I decided to marry you months before you had the notion. John Dudley will be perfect. I must think.” She started to drift out of the dining room, a pensive look on her face.

“You mustn’t interfere, now, Anne.”

“Interfere? I? Don’t be silly.” She went out, leaving her husband smiling ruefully at the doorway.

Mr. Dudley duly called the following afternoon. Aggie was sitting in the back garden with the children and Brutus. George and Alice were occupied with a hoop, the kitten was vainly pacing the garden wall looking for a means of escape, and Aggie was sketching desultorily when the man came out. “Good day,” he said as he approached Aggie’s bench. “You are looking very well.”

And indeed, in her primrose muslin gown, Aggie looked splendid. She smiled uncertainly as she rose.

“No, don’t get up. I was just about to join you. May I?”

“Oh, yes… that is, I will tell Mrs. Wellfleet you are here. She will want to—”

“No need. I spoke to Anne a moment ago. She is busy with something or other and sent me out here.”

“Oh.” Aggie looked around the garden; she was unsure what she should do. She had never received a male caller before in her life.

“You’re not going to send me on my way again?”

“No, no. Please, ah, sit down.”

They seated themselves side by side on the garden bench.

“You’ve been sketching?”

“A little. To amuse myself. I’m not very good.”

“May I see?” He picked up her pad. “Why, I think that is a charming picture of young George. You have him to the life.”

Aggie laughed. “The merest flattery, Mr. Dudley. I know my talent is small. I enjoy my drawing, but I have no pretensions.”

The man looked at her appreciatively. “No, I don’t believe you do.”

“My younger sisters are both very talented, in scholarship and music. I am used to functioning as an audience.”

“Unfair.”

Aggie looked surprised. “Not at all. I loved it.” She gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide.

“You weren’t sometimes weary of these overbearing sisters?”

“They are
not
overbearing! They are both wonderful. Thalia is brilliant, and Euphie is… is the most charming girl imaginable. How dare you say such a thing?”

“I beg pardon,” he replied meekly. “My only excuse is that while I have never met
them
, I have you, and I regret that you should have had to spend so much time being their audience, however charming they may be.”

“Well, if you did meet them, you would see how silly you are being. They are much more interesting than I.”

“Impossible!”

Aggie looked at him, then laughed and shrugged.

“One of your sisters is called Euphie?” he asked, in an effort to turn the subject. “An unusual name.”

The girl wrinkled her nose. “We all have unusual names. Hers is really Euphrosyne.”

“Ah, the three Graces. Your parents were prophetic, at least in your case.”

“Well, we think they were sadly heedless. They can’t have realized how tiresome it would be to go through life with names like ours.” She dimpled. “We have all been teased so about them.”

“Cruel to remind me of my past sins. Let me admit that I was a beastly little boy and have done. I have tried my best to reform since then.”

“And have you been successful?”

“That I must leave to others to decide, Miss Hartington. What say you?”

“Oh, I have not been acquainted with you long enough to say anything.”

“Alas. I must remedy that as soon as may be.”

Aggie, who was enjoying herself very much, was about to reply when Brutus returned from his explorations. Recognizing his rescuer from the previous day, the kitten went directly up to John Dudley’s riding boot and began to scratch at its shining surface. “Brutus!” she said. “Stop that at once.”

Dudley bent and picked him up. “Do,” he agreed. “My valet will have an apoplexy.” He held the indignant kitten up before him. “He seems to have taken no hurt from his sail yesterday.”

“I don’t think anything could hurt Brutus. He is the most obstinate animal I have ever seen.”

“Why do you call him Brutus?”

“My aunt did. She named all her cats for historical persons. I don’t know why.”

“Perhaps to give them a sense of their own importance,” laughed her companion, whose hand was being ferociously attacked by Brutus. “There, sir,” he added, putting the kitten down, “go away.”

Brutus, deeply offended, did so.

Aggie laughed too. “No, they never required any reminder of that. Perhaps it was to show how important she thought them. My aunt was very fond indeed of her cats.”

“From what you told me yesterday, I would say too fond. You know, I have been thinking about your plight, and I am convinced that you should go to law over that will. No judge in the country could fail to have sympathy in the case. I am certain that it could be overturned.”

“The solicitor did not think so.”

“Well, did you not tell me that he wrote the will? Of course he would believe it perfect.”

“Perhaps.” Aggie frowned.

“Well, then? I would be happy to lend you any assistance you require, if you are reluctant to handle the business.” He sounded very eager to be of help.

“It is not that so much,” replied the girl slowly. She paused, still frowning.

“What, then?”

“Well, my sisters and I talked of this, of course. My aunt’s will was a great shock, and we thought at first of doing as you suggest. But the more we considered it, the more it seemed wrong, or… or uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

Aggie looked up at him anxiously. “I don’t know if you will understand, or if I can explain it properly, but we felt that my aunt had a right to do as she pleased with her money. We had no claim on her, really, and if she did not choose to leave us anything—”

“Nonsense. In the first place, you are members of her family, so of course you have a claim on her. Secondly, you told me, did you not, that she had several times said she meant to provide for you. The fact that she did not literally do so seems irrelevant.”

“Not to us. If she really wanted to, she would have.”

“Nonsense,” repeated Dudley. “Who put such ridiculous ideas in your head, that solicitor?” His voice was heated.

A bit offended, Aggie drew back. “Not at all. Actually, this was my own notion entirely. My sisters agreed with me, though, when I explained.”

“Well, I think you are dead wrong,” responded her companion bluntly.

The girl’s chin came up. “You are entitled to your opinion, Mr. Dudley. But I mustn’t go on about my affairs in this boring way. We are hardly well enough acquainted for you to have any
interest
in them.” She rose. “Perhaps we should go in now and find Mrs. Wellfleet.”

Dudley’s response to this setdown was gratifying. “You are right. I have been pushing into matters that are none of my business. And rudely, too. Will you forgive me, please? I can plead my genuine concern for your welfare as a partial excuse, though I know that gives me no right to order
you about.”

Only partly mollified, Aggie said, “Why should you be so concerned about a stranger?”

“Oh, but I don’t think of you as a stranger. How can I, when I remember teasing you so boorishly as a boy? And I remember some more pleasant meetings as well. A picnic, I think, and a children’s party at some neighbors’.”

“The Ellisons,” responded Aggie, much struck.

“That’s it. Surely you feel something of the same thing?”

She looked down at him, realizing that he was right. She did feel somehow that she had known John Dudley for a long time, as if they were old and familiar friends. She would never have told him the story of her aunt’s will at all, she thought, if she had not felt this. She was not in the habit of blurting out her private concerns to strangers.

“You do,” he added, rising to stand beside her. “Come, let us cry friends again. I sincerely beg your pardon, and I promise not to mention your aunt’s eccentric will ever again.” He held out a hand and smiled at her.

After a moment’s hesitation, Aggie took it, smiling slightly in her turn.

“There. That is better. Am I forgiven?”

Aggie cocked her head. “Provisionally. I must see how you behave in future.”

“Alas, I have proved myself a clod once again. How may I make amends?”

“Tell me about the neighborhood,” responded Aggie, “and the people we used to know. Now that I am back here, I keep remembering more and more. How are the Ellisons? And that brown-haired girl I used to play with; what was her name? Edith? Emily?”

“Ellen Jennings?”

“That’s it!”

“She married last season, in London. And the Ellisons moved out of the county some years ago. I had almost forgotten them until now. Come, let us sit down again, and I will tell you anything you like.”

“No, I must see what George and Alice are up to.” The children had been out of sight for some minutes, though their happy shouts could still be heard.

“I’ll walk with you, then,” he replied promptly, offering his arm.

They strolled down the garden, chatting contentedly about old neighbors and remembered outings from their first eight years. They found George and Alice near the back wall, trying the hoop along a gravel path. Eventually George coaxed John Dudley into trying his hand, and he proved surprisingly skillful with the hoop stick. By the time the children were called for tea, they were all breathless from running behind the hoop and catching it as it began to wobble.

“Oh, my,” said Aggie, smoothing back her hair as the children ran to be tidied before eating. “I don’t think I have ever run so much. I am thoroughly winded.”

“You look wonderful,” replied Dudley. Aggie’s cheeks glowed with the exercise, and the little curls of auburn hair that had escaped around her forehead and ears were charming.

“Oh, undoubtedly. All blown about and untidy.”

He merely smiled down at her. “I suppose I must go. I had no idea it had gotten so late.”

“Yes, I must make tea for the children.”

“I enjoyed our talk immensely. I hope I may come again and repeat it?”

Aggie looked down. “I am sure the Wellfleets are always glad to see you.”

“And what about you? Will you be glad as well, in spite of my occasional lapses into boorishness?”

The girl laughed, and nodded.

“Splendid! I shall see you soon again, then.” And he pressed her hand briefly before striding toward the house.

Aggie watched him go, thinking how odd it was to feel so easy and friendly with a man she had met only the previous day. It really must be true that they remembered one another from childhood. As she turned to go in herself, she nodded slightly. There was no other explanation.

Mrs. Wellfleet joined them for nursery tea, very ethereal and lovely in a gown of clinging pale blue muslin. The children, as usual, greeted her with shouts of joy and much jumping up and down. Their mother welcomed this display laughingly and danced around with them a moment before directing everyone to the table.

“How lovely this is,” she said then. “I do so love this room.”

Sunlight poured in through the broad windows of the nursery, touching the chintz sofa, the battered table where they sat, and the bright heads of all four occupants.

“Yes indeed,” continued Anne Wellfleet, beginning to pour out the tea. “I am convinced that this is the most comfortable room in the house.”

“But, Mother,” answered George, shocked. “Our sofa is all bumpy, and the rug is not nearly so soft as the one in the drawing room.”

Anne laughed. “Isn’t it, lazy boy? Well, I still say this is a fine room.”

George shrugged and addressed himself to his bread and jam.

They drank their tea in silence for a moment; then Mrs. Wellfleet said, “Did you have a nice afternoon, all of you?”

“Yes,” said Alice. “We played with the hoop, and Mr. Dudley showed us how. And I patted Butus three times.”

“Mr. Dudley is a bang-up runner,” added George, his mouth full.

His mother shook a finger at him before turning to Aggie. “Did you have a pleasant time as well?” she asked.

Looking at her plate, Aggie nodded.

“John Dudley is such a pleasant young man, I think. And he told me that the two of you were acquainted years ago, as children?”

“Yes. We often played together.”

“Isn’t that the most amazing thing? That you should meet again after all this time.” Anne watched the other girl from the corners of her eyes.

“Well, your house is very close to our old neighborhood, so I suppose it is not so amazing as all that. But it was strange to see him again.”

“We like him so, don’t you?” A twinkle danced in Mrs. Wellfleet’s eyes.

“Oh, well, I… I hardly know him well enough to say.”

“But you are old friends!”

“There is a great difference, meeting as adults. I really don’t… that is…”

“Very well. I shan’t tease you anymore.” Anne laughed. “I shan’t even ask about that difference, interesting as it sounds. But I
do
like John Dudley; I hope he means to call again soon.”