Imprudence Part 12

He scrutinised the white face which, even in its pallor, and despite the worried expression which he observed settled upon it as they drew near her home, looked extraordinarily fresh and sweet. He had enjoyed the ten mile drive exceedingly. Had he not believed that his companion was enduring more discomfort than she would allow, he could have wished that the distance had been greater. He was a man who appreciated feminine society, and he had derived considerable pleasure as the result of an act of careless good-nature from which he had not antic.i.p.ated enjoyment.

It had been a new and agreeable experience. He determined that he would see her again. The slight service he had been able to render her gave him that much right at least, he decided.

The door was flung wide, and the butler came down the steps with concern written large on his discreet features. He opened the door of the car.

Major Stotford alighted, shouldered the man authoritatively out of the way, and a.s.sisted Prudence to the ground. She leaned on his arm heavily, and he saw her blue eyes darken with a look of pain.

"I'm sorry; my ankle hurts."

She turned from him to the waiting servant; but Major Stotford, antic.i.p.ating her request, lifted her in his arms and carried her easily up the steps and into the hall.

The butler, following quickly, got ahead of this intrusive stranger whose proceedings he did not altogether approve of, and threw open the drawing-room door. Major Stotford entered with his burden, and after one swift comprehensive glance which took in the fact that the room was untenanted, and located the sofa at the same moment, carried Prudence to it and laid her gently down among its cus.h.i.+ons. He stood over her inquiringly, anxiety in his look and the hint of a smile in his eyes.

"Come now! We're all right, eh?" he said, and felt in his pocket for his flask, thought better of it and withdrew his hand again empty.

Prudence made an effort to sit up and laughed nervously.

"It's so stupid," she said, "A little thing like that! It's nothing really."

She was immensely relieved that no one save Graves had witnessed their arrival. It would have alarmed her father, and scandalised Agatha, to have seen her carried in like a baby. Major Stotford's helpfulness had been in excess of what was necessary, she felt; with the aid of a strong arm she could have accomplished the journey herself.

"I've given you a lot of trouble. You've been awfully kind to me," she said.

Before he could reply, Mr Graynor entered, concerned and fussy, followed by Agatha, who wore an expression of protest, and suggested frigid disapproval in the very rustle of her skirts.

"I always knew how it would end," she exclaimed. "This doesn't in the least surprise me."

"Oh! it isn't the end," Major Stotford put in with a twinkling of amus.e.m.e.nt. "These little annoyances happen at the beginning. I don't think there are any bones broken."

Mr Graynor bent anxiously over Prudence and laid a hand on her hair.

"You've had an accident. Are you much hurt?" he asked.

"It's nothing really," she said, ashamed at the general fuss in front of a stranger. "I had a spill--a silly little spill which jarred my ankle.

Major Stotford very kindly motored me home."

Mr Graynor glanced swiftly at the person referred to. His anxiety partially relieved, he found time to give attention to the man who had not only brought his daughter home, but was, he imagined, responsible for the accident. Major Stotford, taking advantage of the pause, set about correcting this impression, which he had foreseen as likely to follow his share in the proceedings.

"I was fortunately near the spot," he said. "Miss Graynor rode over a dog in the roadway, and unluckily it was not the dog which got hurt. It seldom is on these occasions. I brought home the wreckage."

"I am sure I am very much obliged to you," Mr Graynor said, but with such a lack of graciousness in his manner as to cause Prudence surprise and distress. Major Stotford's helpfulness had been more valuable than he realised. She glanced at her new acquaintance with a quick bright flush.

"I know I am. If it had not been for Major Stotford's kindness I should have been stranded for the night with no possibility of communicating with you at a wretched wayside cottage ten miles away. I've trespa.s.sed enormously on his time, and given quite a lot of trouble. But I enjoyed the ride."

He laughed pleasantly.

"I enjoyed it too. And you make too much of my services. They were nothing. I trust the foot will soon be well, and that the injuries are as light as you would so bravely have us believe." He addressed himself to Mr Graynor. "If you like I'll leave word at the doctor's on my way back. You'll want to call him in, I expect."

"Thank you, there is no need to trouble you further," Mr Graynor returned stiffly. "I can send."

"I have already sent," Miss Agatha interposed; and Major Stotford turned to look in her direction, as if recalling the presence of one he had temporarily forgotten.

"Then that's finished," he said; "and it only remains to unload the car."

He spoke with a certain cold hostility in his voice which did not escape Prudence's ear. It hurt her. She could have wept with vexation at her father's want of grat.i.tude and courtesy to this man who had proved so good a friend to her in her need: she felt that she wanted to apologise to him for the rudeness of her family. Then she became aware of her father speaking again in the same politely distant tones as before, thanking the other man coldly for the trouble he had been put to, and a.s.suring him that the bicycle had been removed by the servants.

"You should not have burdened yourself with that too," he added. "You place me under a heavy obligation to you which will leave me always indebted."

"My dear sir," Major Stotford interrupted, "you are in no sense under an obligation to me; please disabuse your mind of that idea."

He cut short further expressions of grat.i.tude by advancing to the sofa and shaking hands with Prudence, who, as if desirous of atoning for the general lack of warmth, gave him both her hands on a simple girlish impulse. He took and held them with no show of surprise.

"Thank you so much," she said, a soft appeal in eyes and voice which he was quick to note. "I just want to say how much I enjoyed the drive and your kind care of me. I'm very grateful to you."

"You are setting such a premium on ordinary courtesy that I begin to believe it must be a rare quality in these parts," he said jestingly, with what sounded to Prudence a faintly sarcastic humour. He had a.s.suredly not been given particular evidence of the quality beneath that roof. "But if you insist on regarding my small service so graciously I do not feel inclined to quarrel with you on that score. I can only repeat that I am glad I happened to be on the spot. Good-bye. Take care of the ankle. It will tax your patience, I expect."

Mr Graynor accompanied him into the hall, and invited him into the library for refreshment, which he declined. Prudence listened to their voices outside, listened to the motor drive away, and turned with a face pale with indignation, when her father re-entered the room, and reproached him with having displayed so little grat.i.tude to a man who had acted with such ready kindliness towards her.

"I felt ashamed," she said. "You were barely civil."

"You forget yourself, Prudence," Agatha said. "Father was quite civil.

There was no need to gush--you did that."

"And if I did," Prudence cried, exasperated, "you two forced me into doing so."

Mr Graynor had crossed to the window, where he remained with his back towards the room, paying little heed to their wrangling.

"I wish it had not been Major Stotford who rendered you the service," he said presently, and faced about and approached the sofa with an expression of worried annoyance on his face. "I am sorry this has happened."

"Why?" Prudence sat up straighter and punched the cus.h.i.+ons viciously.

"Why?" she repeated aggressively.

"Because--"

"Do you think it necessary to explain these matters to a child?" Agatha interrupted tartly.

Prudence laughed angrily.

"I'm not a child," she said. "You can't keep my mind for ever on a leading string."

"I think you are unnecessarily excited," Mr Graynor said in displeased tones. "I doubt whether that is good for you in your present condition."

"Being thwarted is not good for me in my present condition," Prudence retorted, but with greater calmness. "You aren't being fair to me. Why should it be a matter for regret to you that Major Stotford should do me a service? He hadn't much choice. No man, who wasn't a brute, could have acted otherwise in the circ.u.mstances."

"No," Mr Graynor admitted. "It was simply unfortunate. Major Stotford is a man whom I do not care to have in my house, whom I would not choose as an a.s.sociate for my daughters. He has an evil reputation."

"Evil!" Prudence sounded a note of incredulity. "In what sense?" she asked.

"There is no need to soil your ears with his history," Mr Graynor replied. "His wife divorced him two years ago. I understood he was abroad."