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These reflections, trite enough as I know, are nevertheless inevitable if one is to begin one's unheroic story in the modern manner, at the latest possible point. That is clearly the point at which a waiter brought me the fatal letter from Catherine Evers.
He was disgusted with the idea of such a want of gratitude; for, if Gordon Wright had loved Miss Evers for herself, the young lady might certainly have discovered the intrinsic value of so disinterested a suitor. Her mother had the credit of having made the match. Gordon was known to be looking for a wife; Mrs.
Reference would indicate that other areas, too, had been "cleared & seated upon" including one "parcell of land cleered by Southampton Hundred Company." The end result was that Robert Evers, guardian for Mary, John Bailey's daughter, should see to it that the original grant be selected and "survayde and laid owte in hogg Islande."
"Do you mean Bob Evers?" I asked, to gain time while I considered what to say; for the intensity of her manner took me aback. "You know I do," said Mrs. Lascelles, impatiently; "don't let him go up the Matterhorn to-night, or to-morrow morning, or whenever it is that he means to start." "But, my dear Mrs. Lascelles, who am I to prevent that young gentleman from doing what he likes?"
And either my tone impressed her, or the covert reminder in my last words; for the bold smile faded from her face, and she looked longer and more searchingly in mine than she had done as yet. "You know Mrs. Evers exceedingly well," Mrs. Lascelles remarked. "I did years ago," I guardedly replied. "Do you mean to say," urged my companion, "that you have not seen her for years?"
That, I thought, was the adverse point of view; I did not say that it was mine. "I'm glad to hear it," said Bob Evers, with the faintest coldness in his tone, though I fancied he was fuming within, and admired both his chivalry and his self-control. "To me it's quite funny. I call it sheer selfishness. We enjoy a cigarette ourselves; why shouldn't they? We don't force them to be teetotal, do we?
"I am delighted with the reasons you give for amusing yourself! Arithmetical calculations!" "I assure you they are the real reasons!" said Gordon, blushing a little. "That 's just the beauty of it. You were not afraid of being 'drawn in, as little Miss Evers says?" "I am never drawn in, whatever the thing may be. I go in, or I stay out; but I am not drawn," said Gordon Wright.
In spite of my telegram Mrs. Evers was not at home when I arrived, but she had left a message which more than explained matters. She was lunching out, but only in Brechin Place, and I was to wait in the study if I did not mind.
And back I sped in spirit to a green ledge overlooking the Gorner Glacier, to think what we had said about Browning up there, but only to remember how I had longed to be to Mrs. Lascelles what Catherine Evers had been to me. There were some sharp edges to the reminiscence, but I turned the pages while they did their worst, and so cut myself to the heart upon a sharper than them all.
"I'm afraid you can't say it now," whispered Mrs. Lascelles. "Here's Mr. Evers himself, coming this way back from the Monte Rosa hut! I'm going to give him a surprise!" And it was a genuine one that she gave him, for I heard his boyish greeting before I saw his hot brown face, and there was no mistaking the sudden delight of both. It was sudden and spontaneous, complete, until his eyes lit on me.
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