Isabel Clarendon

“ Isabel said. “You are old enough to think and act for yourself. If you had come and told me of this in a friendly way I should no doubt have used the privilege of my age and experience——”
“To tell me what you have already on several occasions said indirectly,” broke in the girl, again passionate. “Thank you; I can make all such reflections for myself.”
“I think you are unjust to me, Ada,” said Mrs. Clarendon, in a lowered voice. Her fingers were now grasping the chair, instead of resting upon it. “When you have had time to reflect I am sure you will speak to me differently.” ”

“ They went on to the Continent, where her young mind grew, then came back to spend the winter at Knightswell. The house was kept incessantly full of guests, and Isabel shone. Mr. Clarendon never rode to hounds, but for his wife’s sake hunters were bought, and Isabel proved herself the most splendid horsewoman in the field; that bareback riding at her uncle’s farm had been of service to her. She entered into the joy of hunting with almost reckless abandonment; she risked leaps which made men stare, and was in at the death with a face and figure which took away one’s breath. ”

“ Isabel supplied; “like myself, for instance? Perhaps it is. But I fancy that the ladies who go on to the stage are generally those who, for some reason or other, have lost their places in society.”
“With a large S,” put in Ada, still without looking up.
“Yes, a very large one,” assented Isabel, smiling.
“And suppose,” exclaimed Rhoda, suddenly bold, “I don’t care anything about the society which spells itself with a large S.”
Mrs. Clarendon shook her head indulgently. ”

“ Clarendon’s. Hatred of Isabel was in moments almost madness. It seemed in some horribly unnatural way to be increased by the sight of the pale and suffering face; a wretched perversion poisoned the sympathy which showed itself in many an act of kindness. The struggle with her better nature brought her at times near to delirium. When Isabel’s convalescence began, Ada counted the days. She knew that Lacour would not postpone their marriage an hour later than necessity demanded; her strength would surely hold out a few more weeks. ”

“ It is not easy to know you. I cannot judge you by other people.” Kingcote rose and walked to the fireplace; Mrs. Clarendon watched him, but kept her seat.
“You know many people,” he said, speaking with his peculiar abruptness, which was quite different from the tone of mere familiarity, seemed indeed rather to accentuate the distance between them.
“Many,” Isabel returned, “in a way.”
“It must be strange to have so many acquaintances. It gives you the sense of belonging to the world; you do not stand on the outside and look on.” ”

“ They had taken their seats. Asquith rested one of his arms on a small table, and waited, the smile lingering. Isabel gathered the shawl about her, as if she felt cold. She was a trifle pale.
“You understand perfectly,” she resumed, with a certain abruptness, which came of the effort it cost her to broach the subject, “the meaning of Ada Warren’s presence in this house?”
“Perfectly, I think,” her cousin replied, with a slight motion of his eyebrows.
“That is to say,” pursued Isabel, looking at the fringe of her shawl, “you know the details of Mr. Clarendon’s will?” ”

“ Clarendon and Rhoda Meres exchanged glances, and for an instant there was a rather awkward silence. Isabel found a subject, and talked with her wonted vivacity.
Ada did not return. About half-past ten Rhoda began to make preparations for departure; she went to one of the windows, and held the blind aside a little to look out at the night.
“Oh! what a moon!” she exclaimed. “Mrs. Clarendon, do let us just go out for a minute on to the lawn; the country is so wonderful at night.” ”

“ Clarendon’s days. When gentlemen were at Knightswell, it was used as a retreat for smoking; Isabel herself scarcely ever entered, but Ada Warren used it regularly. There were on the shelves not more than four hundred volumes, and half of these were calf-bound legal literature and blue-books, representing periods of Mr. Clarendon’s career. On the table lay volumes of a different kind, many of them showing Mudie’s tickets; they were works of human interest of the day, food—or at least refreshment—for an active and independent mind ”

“ Clarendon. Oh, how did she consent to be rich on those terms?”
“Ada, you must try and think tenderly of her,” said Meres, with the softness which always marked his voice when he spoke of Isabel. “I have told you of her early poverty. She was a beautiful girl, and without the education which might have given her high aims; the pleasant things of the world tempted her, and frivolous society did its best to ruin her. It did not touch her heart; that has always been pure, and generous, and womanly. Try never to think of her failings.”
“I wish I were not a woman!” Ada exclaimed. ”

“ Clarendon, that I too have my difficulties. I have not reached this age without questioning myself about many things. I have long ceased to be a child; the world is not so simple to me as it was then. Many things require explanation which as a child I scarcely troubled about or explained as a child does.”
Isabel uncovered her face and regarded the girl gravely. Ada returned the look.
“I once asked you,” the latter continued, in a lower voice, and with hurried utterance, “to tell me something about myself—how I came to be living with you. You only tell me that I was an orphan. ”

“ This was the child in front of the shop-window.
“No, not quite as bad,” was Isabel’s judgment. “But he has such a taste for low subjects. Why doesn’t he paint decent people?”
“I’d rather keep clear of the gutter myself,” conceded her companion. “Still——”
He did not conclude, and they crossed to the girls again. Shortly, Mrs. Clarendon met with a party of friends, and Kingcote drew away. A tall, heavy man of a military type bent insinuatingly as he talked to her; King-cote fretted at the sight. To avoid and forget it he joined Hilda Meres. ”

“ Percy Vissian owed not a little to his friend for these afternoons at Wood End.
With the elder people Kingcote’s intimacy was not one of unrestrained confidence, though it only fell short of it by that degree which marks the superficiality of most friendships. For instance, he never felt tempted to speak to Mrs. Vissian, even after months of familiar intercourse, as he had spoken to Isabel Clarendon in their first conversation. The bright little woman did not exercise a compelling power upon his inner self, as Isabel had already done. ”

“ Watching her at breakfast, Robert thought he perceived some traces of curiosity and anticipation in the girl’s face; once, too, he caught her eyes straying in his direction. “Come,” he said to himself, “there is something human in her after all. We shall see if we can’t make the exhibition yet more pronounced.”
As soon as Mrs. Clarendon and Rhoda Meres were gone to church, Asquith made his way to the library, carrying the document which Isabel had entrusted to him the night before. ”

“ Clarendon,” was the girl’s reply.
“Energy? Well, I don’t know; I always thought she had plenty of that. But I understand you. You mean that that kind of society life doesn’t conduce to activity of mind—to sincerity, shall we say?”
Ada had meant this, but it did not exactly please her to hear it from Lacour’s lips.
“I don’t think I ever heard Mrs. Clarendon speak evil of any one,” she said, with seemingly needless emphasis, measuring her words as if in scrupulous justice. ”

“ There were guests at Knightswell, and Ada did not appear. Isabel went to the girl’s room, and obtained admission.
“Have you a headache, Ada?” she asked.
The reply was a short negative.
“Then, why don’t you come down? I very much wish you would. Will you come down to please me?”
The girl was sitting at a table, seemingly engaged with her books. In reality she had been motionless and unemployed for a couple of hours. She was pale and her eyes bloodshot.
“No, Mrs. Clarendon,” she exclaimed; “I cannot come down to please you! Why should I torture myself to give you pleasure?” ”

“ For reply the girl burst into tears.
“Cheer him!” she sobbed. “How can I cheer any one? How can I give comfort to others when my own life is bare of it? It’s easy for you to show me my duty, Mrs. Clarendon. Tell me how I am to do it!”
Isabel put her arm about the shaken form, and there was soothing in the warm current of her blood.
“I cannot tell you how to do it, Rhoda,” she said, when the sobs had half stilled themselves. “My own is too much for me. ”

“ You will never love me, and will think meanly enough of me some day.”
As Ada grew older, the extreme sullenness, which seemed to be her disposition, wore off a little. She was outwardly civilised, she learned to speak the English of refinement, she made for herself all manner of interests, none of them very childlike; and to Mrs. Clarendon she assumed the demeanour which was to persist, with very slight alteration, from that time onwards. When she was ten years old Isabel engaged a better governess for her. It became evident that the girl had brains. ”

“ You have had very slight opportunities of getting to know the world. You prefer your books to society, and perhaps rightly; but that must not bring you to forget that you are heiress to a large fortune, and—and that other people—our friends—are well aware of it.”
Ada laughed silently.
“You wish, Mrs. Clarendon, to put me on my guard?”
“I do.”
The silent laugh had covered a distortion of features, as if by bodily pain. The girl’s eyes began to take on that wide, dangerous look which Isabel knew well and feared ”

“ What is the difficulty?”
“There are just seventeen, one for every minute of our conversation. But very seriously, I want your advice. You know, Mrs. Clarendon, I think a good deal more of your advice than of any one else’s; pray don’t begin to be rusty just when I’ve most need of you.”
“Go on; I promise not to be rusty,” said Isabel, laughing.
“But you are a little rusty, for all that. You’re not so free and easy with me as you used to be. I suppose you’ve heard something new. I can’t get on with people—especially women—who won’t take me just as I am. ”

“ Clarendon drove, and the five-year-old chestnut which at present she rode—gave him an Englishman’s satisfaction. Isabel was as active and practical in the superintendence of her stables as in every other pursuit which she regarded as duty or pleasure; the most exacting squire could not have had things in better condition. Here Robert came in contact with his acquaintance, the groom, and received from him much information about the animals, also concerning their predecessors in the stables. Strolling back to the front lawn, accompanied by the house-dog, he met Ada Warren. ”

“ Clarendon, arriving a few minutes after the dinner-hour, entered a great room murmurous with conversation, and striking in effects of costume; the men were in pink. The announcement of her name turned all faces to the door; male eyes glimmered with passive and polite satisfaction, those of the opposite sex wandered a little about the company. There were very few present who had not the pleasure of acquaintance with the Lady of Knightswell ”

“ Clarendon,” puts in Rhoda.
“Perhaps so, Rhoda; and some day we may have pilgrims from all corners of the earth visiting the cottage he has glorified.”
“With special omnibuses from Winstoke station,” added Robert, “and a colony of licensed victuallers thriving about the sacred spot.”
“Let us be thankful,” exclaimed Isabel, “that a poet’s fame is usually deferred for a generation or two. ”

“ Then her tenderness, she shows it in every glance; and her bright, free gladness. A woman to the tips of her fingers, a womanly woman—everything that Miss Warren, for instance, is not. In fact, the latter’s presence throws Mrs. Clarendon’s womanliness into relief. Mrs. Clarendon will henceforth be to me the type of perfectly sweet womanhood.
“Of course, her interest in me is a mere freak. She is at a loss for entertainment now and then at Knightswell—for, alas! she does not read—and the discovery of a curious creature like myself is a source of amusement. ”

“ Mrs. Clarendon was saying, “than that a man like Vincent Lacour should make a prize of her.”
“But she cannot be so infatuated,” returned Mrs. Stratton. “She has sense enough to understand her own position and to take care of herself. My idea is that she won’t marry for some time, perhaps not at all.”
There was silence, then the last speaker resumed.
“She certainly has no interest in Mr. Kingcote.”
“You can’t judge so speedily. I don’t say that I desire it,” Isabel added with an uncertain voice. ”

“ She was off to another part of the room before he could detain her, though he even clutched at her dress; her mocking laughter was quite distinct through the music.
“That woman’s the very devil!” was Sir Vincent’s muttered exclamation....
From the ball-room to the gardens and sunny glades of Knightswell. Ada went thither the day after she received Lacour’s letter, purposing a week of solitude. Mrs. Clarendon was tasting the sweets of the season in her wonted way, and the girl had Knightswell to herself. She enjoyed it. ”

“ I lack the courage of the natural man. But I would not have her accuse me of boorishness.”
And again: “So this is the Lady of Knightswell? The water of the well is enchanted, Percy told me. Have I already drunk the one cup which is allowed?”
He reached the house-door just before the hour appointed for luncheon. With heartbeats sensibly quickened he followed the servant who led him to the drawing-room. Mrs. Clarendon and Ada were sitting here together. Isabel presented him to Miss Warren, then took the volume from his hands and looked into it. ”