“With me! Oh, dear! What have I done?”
“What have you done? I’ll tell you what youve done. Why did you send Conolly, of all men in the world, to tell me that I was in disgrace here?”
“There was no one else, Marmaduke.”
“Well, suppose there wasn’t! Suppose there had been no one else alive on the earth except you, and I, and he, and Constance, and Su — and Constance! how could you have offered him such a job?”
“Why not? Was there any special reason—”
“Any special reason! Didnt your common sense tell you that a meeting between him and me must be particularly awkward for both of us?”
“No. At least I — . Marmaduke: I think you must fancy that I told him more than I did. I did not know where you were; and as he was going to London, and I thought you knew him well, and I had no other means of warning you, I had to make use of him. Jasper will tell you how thoroughly trustworthy he is. But all I said — and I really could not say less — was that I was afraid you were in bad company, or under bad influence, or something like that; and that I only wanted you to come down here at once.”
“Oh! Indeed! That was all, was it? Merely that I was in bad company.”
“I think I said under bad influence. I was told so; and I believed it at the time. I hope it’s not true, Marmaduke. If it is not, I beg your pardon with all my heart.”
Marmaduke stared very hard at her for a while, and then said, with the emphasis of a man baffled by utter unreason: “Well, I am damned!” at which breach of good manners she winced. “Hang me if I understand you, Marian,” he continued, more mildly. “Of course it’s not true. Bad influence is all bosh. But it was a queer thing to say to his face. He knew very well you meant his sister. Hallo! what’s the matter? Are you going to faint?”
“No, I — Never mind me.”
“Never mind you!” said Marmaduke. “What are you looking like that for?”
“Because — it is nothing: I only blushed. Dont be stupid, Duke.”
“Blushed! Why dont you blush red, like other people, and not green?
Shall I get you something?”
“No, no. Oh, Duke, why did you not tell me? How could you be so heartless as to leave us all in the dark when we were talking about you before him every day! Oh, are you in earnest, Duke? Pray dont jest about it. What do you mean by his sister? I never knew he had one. Who is she? What happened? I mean when you saw him?”
“Nothing happened. I was mowing in the garden. He just walked in; bade me good morning; admired the place; and told me he came with a message from you that things were getting hot here. Then he went off, as cool as you please. He didnt seem to mind.”
“And he warned you, in spite of all.”
“More for your sake than for mine, I suspect. He’s rather sweet on you, isnt he?”
“Oh, Duke, Duke, are you not ashamed of yourself?”
“Deuce a bit. But I’m in trouble; and I want you to stand by me. Look here, Marian, you have no nonsense about you, I know. I may tell you frankly how I am situated, maynt I?”
Marian looked at him apprehensively, and said nothing.
“You see you will only mix up matters worse than before unless you know the truth. Besides, I offered to marry her: upon my soul I did; but she refused. Her real name is Susanna Conolly: his sister, worse luck.”
“Dont tell me any more of this, Duke. It is not right.”
“I suppose it’s not right, as you say. But what am I to do? I must tell you; or you will go on making mischief with Constance.”
“As if I would tell her! I promise that she shall never know from me. Is that enough?”
“No: its too much. The plain truth is that I dont care whether she finds me out or not. I want her to understand thoroughly, once and for ever, that I wont marry her.”
“Marmaduke!”
“Not if I were fifty Marmadukes!”
“Then you will break her heart.”
“Never fear! Her heart is pretty tough, if she has one. Whether or no, I
am not going to have her forced on me by the Countess or any one else.
The truth is, Marian, they have all tried to bully me into this match.
Constance can’t complain.”
“No, not aloud.”
“Neither aloud or alow. I never proposed to her.”
“Very well, Marmaduke: there is no use now in blaming Auntie or excusing yourself. If you have made up your mind, there is an end.”
“But you cant make out that I am acting meanly, Marian. Why, I have everything to lose by giving her up. There is her money, and I suppose I must prepare for a row with the family; unless the match could be dropped quietly. Eh?”
“And is that what you want me to manage for you?”
“Well — . Come, Marian! dont be savage. I have been badly used in this affair. They forced it on me. I did all I could to keep out of it. She was thrown at my head. Besides, I once really used to think I could settle down with her comfortably some day. I only found out what an insipid little fool she was when I had a woman of sense to compare her with.”
“Dont say hard things about her. I think you might have a little forbearance towards her under the circumstances.”
“Hm! I dont feel very forbearing. She has been sticking to me for the last few days like a barnacle. Our respectable young ladies think a lot of themselves, but — except you and Nelly — I dont know a woman in society who has as much brains in her whole body as Susanna Conolly has in her little finger nail. I cant imagine how the deuce you all have the cheek to expect men to talk to you, much less marry you.”
“Perhaps there is something that honest men value more than brains.”
“I should like to know what it is. If it is something that ladies have and Susanna hasnt, it is not either good looks or good sense. If it’s respectability, that depends on what you consider respectable. If Conny’s respectable and Susanna isnt, then I prefer disrepu—”
“Hush, Duke, you know you have no right to speak to me like this. Let us think of poor Constance. How is she to be told the truth?”
“Let her find it out. I shall go back to London as soon as I can; and the affair will drop somehow or another. She will forget all about me.”
“Happy-go-lucky Marmaduke. I think if neglect and absence could make her forget you, you would have been forgotten before this.”
“Yes. You see you must admit that I gave her no reason to suppose I meant anything.”
“I am afraid you have consulted your own humor both in your neglect and your attentions, Duke. The more you try to excuse yourself, the more inexcusable your conduct appears. I do not know how to advise you. If Constance is told, you may some day forget all about your present infatuation; and then a mass of mischief and misery will have been made for nothing. If she is not told, you will be keeping up a cruel deception and wasting her chances of —— but she will never care for anybody else.”
“Better do as I say. Leave matters alone for the present. But mind! no speculating on my changing my intentions. I wont marry her.”
“I wish you hadnt told me about it.”
“Well, Marian, I couldnt help it. I know,