"Oh no! Mrs. Gray is sitting on one of the benches there beyond. Do you want to speak to her?"
"Of course I do," he replied, chucking my chin in his old way.
He took my hand, picked up his sketch-book and drawing materials, and walked with me to where Mrs. Gray sat. She was absorbed in the catastrophe of a third volume, which she nearly dropped, as she saw me appear before her, holding the hand of Cornelius. At first she was quite agitated, but the free and easy manner of the young man soon restored her composure. He did his best to render himself agreeable, and carefully shunned every allusion that could alarm her. I had seen him give her two or three keen looks as if to read her character, before he entered into conversation, after which he went on like one master of his subject. He talked pleasantly for about half an hour, then left us: as I kissed him, my lips opened to ask when we should meet again, but his look checked me.
I saw him take the direction that led to the Grove, and my eyes followed him until he was out of sight.
"A very agreeable young man, very," observed Mrs. Gray, giving me shy looks I could not understand; "don't you think so, dear?"
"I don't know, Ma'am. I have known--"
"Yes, yes," she interrupted, "you have known others quite as agreeable; why, so have I. Once I remember, as a girl, that my sister and I often met in our walks a pleasant old gentleman, whom we called--not knowing his name--Dr. Johnson. Suppose we call this young landscape-painter Claude Lorraine."
"Oh, Ma'am! his name is--"
"My dear," impatiently interrupted Mrs. Gray, "how should you know his name? did you ask it, or did he tell you?"
"Oh no, Ma'am!"
"Very well, then, how can you know it?"
I saw that Mrs. Gray wanted to keep on the safe side of truth, and, of course, I was glad enough to indulge her. She perceived that I had at length taken the hint, and talked freely of Claude Lorraine, who appeared to have produced a very favourable impression.
For the remaining part of the day, and on the whole of the following night, I was restless with joy and hope. Something too appeared to be the matter with Mrs. Gray; for we dined half an hour earlier than usual, and went out the very minute the meal was over.
"Where are we going to-day, Ma'am?" I asked.
"I think we had better go to the Gardens," she replied carelessly.
To the Gardens we at once proceeded. Mrs. Gray sat down on her usual bench, drew forth her book, and told me she thought it would do me good to walk about. I eagerly availed myself of the permission, and ran at once to the fallen tree. Yes, there he sat, and with him, as I had expected, was Kate.
She did not say much, but as she took me in her arms and kissed me, I hid my face in her kind bosom, feeling too happy for aught save tears.
"Oh, you naughty child!" she said, giving me two or three reproachful kisses; "how could you do it?"
"Kate, it was Mrs. Gray--"
"Yes, I know; Cornelius has told me all, but I don't care about Mrs.
Gray, you are to come with me this very minute."
"But Mrs. Gray--"
"Nonsense! Mrs. Gray won't break her heart about you; and you don't look well at all."
"That is she, coming up to us, Kate."
And so it was. Mrs. Gray had got impatient, or perhaps alarmed, and fancied that Claude had carried me off. She was thrown into another flurry on seeing Miss O'Reilly; but Cornelius undertook to bring her round, and succeeded so well that ere long she sat down by Kate, with whom she chatted pleasantly, whilst I and Cornelius walked about. It seemed to me that but a few minutes had thus passed, when came the parting moment, and Mrs. Gray summoned me with a "My dear, is it not time to go?" The following day was Sunday, and on that day we never walked in the Gardens. With many kisses, caresses, and many a pang of secret regret, and many a look behind, I parted from my two friends. They were scarcely out of sight when Mrs. Gray exclaimed--
"There are very strange things in life--very. Now I should no more have expected to meet in Kensington Gardens an old friend--than--than--really --than anything!"
"An old friend, Mrs. Gray!"
"Why, of course; the lady to whom I spoke."
"Miss O'Reilly!" I exclaimed; then immediately felt dismayed at my own imprudence.
But Mrs. Gray was getting bold, and replied, very calmly--
"Yes, I believe her name is O'Reilly; but I do not see anything wonderful in that; as I believe O'Reilly is a very common Irish name."
"And you know her, Mrs. Gray?" I said, eagerly.
"I may safely say I have known her years. For it is now twenty years since I met her at an evening party; I had forgotten her name, but not her face, and being greatly pleased to see her again, I asked her to come and take tea with me to-morrow evening."
"Did you meet her brother at that party, Ma'am?" I asked eagerly.
"Has she got a brother, my dear?" calmly inquired Mrs. Gray.
"Yes, Ma'am, the gentleman who was with her."
"Ah, indeed! the artist we saw yesterday--peculiar! No, my dear, I cannot say I met him."
I saw with some disappointment that Cornelius was not included in the invitation; but I tried to look to the morrow without ungrateful repining; it came, and brought Kate alone, but not the less welcome.
I have often wondered at Mrs. Gray's motives for acting thus; but her character was an odd mixture of sincerity and craft, of daring and timidity. She was kind-hearted enough to like obliging me and woman enough to cherish a feminine pique against Mr. Thornton for not being more frank and explicit with her; besides her life was so dull that a little gentle excitement and mystery were not things to be rejected lightly; and then, as she was in independent circumstances, and had taken me more for society than for profit, she was naturally less apt to regard the consequences of her conduct.
Kate now came to see me freely, and yet I was not happy. Her brother, who had seemed so pleased, so glad when he met me in the Gardens, came not.
"Oh, Kate!" I said, very sadly, "he does not care for me after all."
"Nonsense, child! I tell you he was miserable when he found that Mr.
Thornton had taken you no one knew where; why, he got thin with hunting up and down for you; he had no peace himself and gave none to others.
Whereas, on the day he met you, he came in looking as gay as a lark, and exclaiming the first thing, 'I have got her, Kate!'"
"Yes, but he does not come."
"Men are so. He is fond of you, and he neglects you, that is their way, child."
This gave me little comfort, but at length one morning when I least expected him, Cornelius suddenly called to see me, and to give me, with the consent of Mrs. Gray, my long-promised walk. He kissed me carelessly; his face looked worn; his way of speaking was short and dissatisfied. As we left Mrs. Gray's house and turned round the square, he asked where I wished to go, in a way that implied that, on taking me out for this walk, he rather thought to get rid of it than to please either himself or me. I replied timidly, that I did not care where we went.
"Are you getting shy with me?" he asked, giving me a keen and surprised look.
I answered "No," with a consciousness that I should have said yes.
Cornelius looked at me again, but did not speak until we had for some time walked on in silence. He then observed abruptly--
"How do you like being at Mrs. Gray's?"
"Pretty well."