durant's time was up, but the colonel had pressed him to stay another week. he was affectionate; he was firm; he would take no refusal. he dwelt on the advantages of a prolonged visit. "a little change," said he, "does us all good. you young fellows are apt to get into a groove. but you seem brighter since you came. i think we've shaken you up a bit."
indeed, at no time had there been room for any doubt as to the sincerity of his welcome. though he was so determined to shake durant up, to get him out of his groove, and give him fresh ideas, he betrayed a pitiable dependence on the young fellow. he endeavored to meet youth on its own ground; he made piteous experiments in the frivolous. more than once durant had suspected that the poor gentleman had asked him down as a protection from the terrors of his own society. his intellectual resources were evidently giving out. the barometer was stationary; a fortnight's almost persistent sunshine had dried up the source of ideas. having gutted the nineteenth century, his mind seemed to be impotently raging for fresh matter to destroy. he repeated himself eternally; the same phrases were always in his mouth. "a fad, a theory, a name for ignorance." "don't tell me; it's an insult to my intelligence!" durant could have been sorry for him if he had not been so infinitely sorry for himself.
on monday morning frida tancred was herself again; not her old self, but the new one that durant had learned to know and tolerate. she sought him out after breakfast and seconded the colonel's invitation. [pg 286]
"if you could possibly stop, mr. durant, i wish you would. i'm asking a favor. my cousin, georgie chatterton, is coming down on wednesday to stay. i don't know how long. i've never seen her before, and she's a young girl."
frida's voice expressed a certain horror.
"well, what of that?"
"if there's one thing on earth that i'm afraid of, it's a young girl. if you could only stay on just to amuse her a little, to help her through her first week! you see, it'll be so desperately dull for her if you don't."
he laughed; there was no other way of responding to the na?veté of the request.
"it doesn't really seem fair to ask her when she hasn't an idea—i can't think why father did it. perhaps he didn't. it's odd, but i've noticed that, when anything like this happens, mrs. fazakerly is always at the bottom of it."
another lurid light on mrs. fazakerly!
"was mrs. fazakerly at the bottom of his asking me?"
she smiled. "to tell you the honest truth, she was. not but what he is delighted to have you here. i don't know when i've seen him so happy, so interested in anyone. but, you see, he's fearfully conservative; he can't bear to take the first step in anything."
he saw. the colonel might be as conservative as he pleased; but the old order was changing; coton manor was on the eve of a revolution. he saw it all clearly, that deep-laid plot of mrs. fazakerly's. he had been asked down at her suggestion to keep frida tancred out of the way for the moment, or, better still, forever. he had not risen to the occasion; his time was up, so miss chatterton was to be invited to take [pg 287] his place. yet, when he came to think of it, so simple a scheme, the mere substitution of one cat's paw for another, hardly did justice to mrs. fazakerly's imagination. was she still convinced of his dawning passion for miss tancred? had she doubts as to miss tancred's willingness or power to return it? and had she suggested that he should be pressed to prolong his stay in the hope that the rival presence of the young girl would act as the spark that fires the mine, kindling miss tancred's emotions and revealing her to herself?
meanwhile miss tancred's one idea was to make use of him, to hand over the young girl to him and be rid of her. her former offer of the black mare on the condition that he stayed another week appeared now as a grim jest, a cynical wager. this time she was in earnest. whereas, if she had been in love with him——
weighing these matters in his sensitive brain, durant conceived a violent hatred of mrs. fazakerly and her plot, together with a corresponding determination to stay on, if only to prove to that ingenious lady that she was hopelessly mistaken. any hasty movement on his part would but confirm her in her absurd suspicions, while his actual flight would be the most flattering testimony to the profundity of her insight. he was not going to behave like the victim to a desperate infatuation for miss tancred. he would stay on, and mrs. fazakerly would see that nothing came of her psychological intrigue.
how far the colonel was her accomplice he had no idea. the old fellow was a gentleman when all was said and done, and it was more than likely that he contented himself with a gentlemanly acquiescence. his dignity might possibly not refuse to draw a profit either way from the transaction. durant could reckon [pg 288] on miss tancred, having returned to his original opinion of her. there was not enough womanhood in her for ordinary elemental jealousy; as for passion, he had decided that she was as innocent of understanding as she was incapable of inspiring it. a sentimental coxcomb might beat a precipitate retreat because he thought or fancied that his hostess was in love with him, and he would probably call his ridiculous conduct chivalry; it was more becoming in a gentleman to ignore the painful circumstance. for all these reasons he determined to stay.
his acceptance of their renewed invitation gave evident pleasure to the colonel and miss tancred and very little annoyance to himself. he had grown used to coton manor as a prisoner grows used to his cell. he had, as he had feared, tied himself to the place by beginning serious work in it. he was too well pleased with his landscape studies of the neighborhood to leave them unfinished; and, as it happened, he had plenty of time to give to them, for the colonel was pretty constantly engaged with mrs. fazakerly. (here again he traced the delicate hand of that lady. she had seen that, if any guest was to remain at coton manor, a limit must be put to the colonel's opportunities for tormenting him.) durant had ceased to long for distraction; he was sufficiently entertained by the situation itself.
