The Duchess of Wrexe Part 32

II

The room called the Library was the pleasantest room in the house; an old, long, low-ceilinged room with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, with a large stone open fireplace and book-cases running from end to end and old sporting prints above them.

Before the great fireplace the tea was waiting and there also was Nita Raseley, very charming and fresh and pink in the face and golden in the hair. It was strange that Nita Raseley should have been their first guest since their marriage, because Rachel, most certainly, did not like her; but, after that meeting at the Ma.s.siters' the girl had flung a pa.s.sionate and incoherent correspondence upon Rachel and had ended by practically inviting herself.

Roddy liked her; Rachel knew that--so perhaps after all it had been a good thing to have her there. Rachel's dislike of her was founded on a complete distrust. "She's all wrong and insincere and beastly. I'll never have her here again...." And yet, really, Miss Raseley had behaved herself, had been most quiet and decorous and _most_ affectionate.

The electric light was delicately shaded, the curtains were drawn, outside was the storm, here cosiness and s.h.i.+ning comfort.

"Oh! _darling_ Rachel--I _am_ so glad you've come--I do so want tea----"

"Where's Roddy?"

"Just come in--He'll be here in a minute----"

Rachel came over to the fire and was busy over the tea-table.

"Well, Nita, what have you been at all the afternoon?"

"Oh! that silly old book. Rachel, how _could_ you tell me----"

"What book?"

"Oh! _you_ know--you lent it me. Something like drinking--_you_ know. By that man Westcott--_such_ a silly name."

"_The Vines!_--Didn't you like it?"

"Like it! My dear Rachel, why, they go on for pages about each other's feelings and nothing happens and I'm sure it's most unwholesome. They're all so unhappy and always hating one another. I like books to be cheerful and about people one knows--don't you?"

"Well, Nita dear, it's a good thing we don't all like the same things, isn't it? Sugar?"

"Yes, dear, you know--lots--Darling, have you got a headache? You _do_ look rotten--you _do_ really."

Rachel knew that she must keep an especial guard to-day: she was irritable, out of sorts. She would have liked immensely to send Nita to have her tea in the nursery, were there one.

"No, I'm all right. But I wanted to get out and this storm stopped me."

"You do look d.i.c.ky! Oh! what do you think! Roddy's taking us over to Hawes to-morrow to lunch if the weather's anything like decent. He's just fixed it up--sent a wire----"

"To-morrow? But _I_ can't.... He knows. I've got Miss Crale coming here----"

"Only old Miss Crale? Put her off----"

"I can't possibly--I've put her off once before. She wants to talk about her Soldiers' Inst.i.tute place--" Then Rachel added more slowly, "But Roddy knew----"

"Oh! he said you'd got some silly old engagement, but he _knew_ you'd put it off!"

"He knows I can't. He was talking about it this morning. He knew how----" Then she stopped. She was not going to show Nita Raseley that she minded anything.

But Roddy had always said that they would go over together to Hawes--one of the loveliest old places in the world--He had always promised....

She knew perfectly well what had occurred. Nita had caught Roddy and clung on to him and persuaded him--Roddy was such a boy--But she was hurt and she despised herself for it.

"Oh," she said, laughing. "That's all right. You two must just go over together--that's all! I'll go another time----"

"Well, you see, Roddy _did_ send a wire and the Rockingtons would _hate_ being put off at the last moment.... Oh! You beastly dog! He's been licking my shoe, Rachel. Really he oughtn't to, ought he? So funny of you, Rachel, when he's _such_ a mongrel and Roddy's got such lovely darlings--Of course Jacob's a dear, but he _is_ rather absurd to look at----"

Jacob glanced at her, shook his ears and then, hearing a step that he knew, retired, instantly, under a sofa in a far corner of the room.

Roddy came in and stood for a moment laughing across at them. He was in an old tweed suit with a soft collar and his face was brick-red; looking at him as he stood there, the absolute type of health and strength and cleanly vigour, Rachel wondered why she felt irritable. She certainly was out of sorts.

"Hullo, you two," Roddy said, "you do look cosy! Talkin' secrets, or will you put up with a man?"

"Oh! _Roddy_," said Nita Raseley, "why, of _course_. Rachel's only just come down, hasn't been any time for secrets. Come and get warm."

Room was made for him. Rachel smiled at him as she gave him his tea.

"Well, Roddy, what have _you_ been doing? I've been trying to write letters and Nita's been abusing a novel I lent her. I hope you've been better employed----"

"I've been botherin' around with Nugent over those two horses he bought last week. And--oh! I say, Rachel, you'll come over to Hawes to-morrow, won't you?"

"You know I can't. I've got Miss Crale coming to luncheon----"

"Oh, I say! Put her off----"

"Can't--I've put her off before and she doesn't deserve to be badly treated----"

"Oh! dash it! But I've gone and wired. The Rockingtons won't like my changin'----"

"Well, don't change--you and Nita go over----"

"No, but you know we'd always arranged to go over together. You see, I felt sure you'd put old Miss Crale on to another day. _She_ won't mind----"

"No, Roddy, thank you. That's not fair on her. It can't be helped. You go over with Nita."

Then there occurred between them one of those little situations that were now so frequent. Rachel was hurt, but was determined to show nothing; Roddy knew that she was hurt, but was quite unable to improve relations, partly because he had no words, partly because "a feller looks such a fool tryin' to explain," partly because there was in him a quality of sullen obstinacy that was mingled, most strangely, with his kindness and sentiment.

He was absolutely ready to fling Nita and the Rockingtons into limbo, but he was quite unable to set about such a business.

Moreover now there was Nita Raseley--It was at this moment that Jacob, having fought in the dark recesses of the sofa between his dislike of Roddy and his love of tea, declared for his stomach and walked slowly, and with the dignity required by the presence of an enemy, across the room.

"Hullo! there's the mongrel--" Roddy endeavoured to cover earlier awkwardness by easy laughter, but the laughter was not easy and his attempt to pat Jacob was frustrated by a sidling movement on the dog's part.

Then Nita Raseley laughed.

Roddy now thought that women were d.a.m.nable, that his wife had no right to drag a mongrel like that about with her, that he'd show them if they laughed at him, and that if Rachel couldn't come to-morrow, why then, she must just lump it--The last thought of all was that Rachel was always finding a grievance in something.

He waited a little while, talked in a stiff and unnatural fas.h.i.+on and then went.

"This weather _is_ very trying, dear, isn't it?" said Nita. "If I were you I really would go and lie down. You do look _so_ seedy!"