Ayala's Angel [248]
it was so. I don't mind owning it to you now, though I never, never, would own it to anyone else. When you came to us at the theatre I was sure that no one else could ever have been so good: I certainly did love you then."
"Hardly that, Ayala."
"I did," she said. "Now I have told you everything, and if you choose to think I have been bad -- why you must think so, and I must put up with it."
"Bad, my darling?"
"I suppose it was bad to fall in love with a man like that; and very bad to give him the trouble of coming so often. But now I have made a clean breast of it, and if you want to scold me you must scold me now. You may do it now, but you must never scold me afterwards -- because of that." It may be left to the reader to imagine the nature of the scolding which she received. Then on their way home she thanked him for all the good that he had done to all those belonging to her. "I have heard it all from Lucy -- how generous you have been to Isadore."
"That has all come to nothing," he said.
"How come to nothing? I know that you sent him the money."
"I did offer to lend him something, and, indeed, I sent him a cheque; but two days afterwards he returned it. That tremendous uncle of yours -- "
"Uncle Tom?"
"Yes, your Uncle Tom; the man of millions! He came forward and cut me out altogether. I don't know what went on down there in Sussex, but when he heard that they intended to be married shortly he put his hand into his pocket, as a magnificent uncle, overflowing with millions, ought to do."
"I did not hear that."
"Hamel sent my money back at once."
"And poor Tom! You were so good to poor Tom."
"I like Tom."
"But he did behave badly."
"Well; yes. One gentleman shouldn't strike another, even though he be ever so much in love. It's an uncomfortable proceeding, and never has good results. But then, poor fellow, he has been so much in earnest."
"Why couldn't he take a No when he got it?"
"Why didn't I take a No when I got it?"
"That was very different. He ought to have taken it. If you had taken it you would have been very wrong, and have broken a poor girl's heart. I am sure you knew that all through."
"Did I?"
"And then you were too good-natured. That was it. I don't think you really love me -- not as I love you. Oh, Jonathan, if you were to change your mind now! Suppose you were to tell me that it was a mistake! Suppose I were to awake and find myself in bed at Kingsbury Crescent?"
"I hope there may be no such waking as that!"
"I should go mad -- stark mad. Shake me till I find out whether it is real waking, downright, earnest. But, Jonathan, why did you call me Miss Dormer when you went away? That was the worst of all. I remember when you called me Ayala first. It went through and through me like an electric shock. But you never saw it -- did you?"
On that afternoon when she returned home she wrote to her sister Lucy, giving a sister's account to her sister of all her happiness. "I am sure Isadore is second best, but Jonathan is best. I don't want you to say so; but if you contradict me I shall stick to it. You remember my telling you that the old woman in the railway said that I was perverse. She was a clever old woman, and knew all about it, for I was perverse. However, it has come all right now, and Jonathan is best of all. Oh, my man -- my man! Is it not sweet to have a man of one's own to love?" If this letter had been written on the day before -- as would have been the case had not Ayala been taken out hunting -- it would have reached Merle Park on the Wednesday, the news would have been made known to Aunt Emmeline, and so conveyed to poor Tom, and that disagreeable journey from Merle Park to Stalham would have been saved. But there was no time for writing on the Monday. The letter was sent away in the Stalham post-bag on the Tuesday evening, and did not reach Merle Park till the Thursday, after Lady Tringle had left the house. Had it been known on that morning that Ayala was engaged to Colonel Stubbs that would have sufficed
"Hardly that, Ayala."
"I did," she said. "Now I have told you everything, and if you choose to think I have been bad -- why you must think so, and I must put up with it."
"Bad, my darling?"
"I suppose it was bad to fall in love with a man like that; and very bad to give him the trouble of coming so often. But now I have made a clean breast of it, and if you want to scold me you must scold me now. You may do it now, but you must never scold me afterwards -- because of that." It may be left to the reader to imagine the nature of the scolding which she received. Then on their way home she thanked him for all the good that he had done to all those belonging to her. "I have heard it all from Lucy -- how generous you have been to Isadore."
"That has all come to nothing," he said.
"How come to nothing? I know that you sent him the money."
"I did offer to lend him something, and, indeed, I sent him a cheque; but two days afterwards he returned it. That tremendous uncle of yours -- "
"Uncle Tom?"
"Yes, your Uncle Tom; the man of millions! He came forward and cut me out altogether. I don't know what went on down there in Sussex, but when he heard that they intended to be married shortly he put his hand into his pocket, as a magnificent uncle, overflowing with millions, ought to do."
"I did not hear that."
"Hamel sent my money back at once."
"And poor Tom! You were so good to poor Tom."
"I like Tom."
"But he did behave badly."
"Well; yes. One gentleman shouldn't strike another, even though he be ever so much in love. It's an uncomfortable proceeding, and never has good results. But then, poor fellow, he has been so much in earnest."
"Why couldn't he take a No when he got it?"
"Why didn't I take a No when I got it?"
"That was very different. He ought to have taken it. If you had taken it you would have been very wrong, and have broken a poor girl's heart. I am sure you knew that all through."
"Did I?"
"And then you were too good-natured. That was it. I don't think you really love me -- not as I love you. Oh, Jonathan, if you were to change your mind now! Suppose you were to tell me that it was a mistake! Suppose I were to awake and find myself in bed at Kingsbury Crescent?"
"I hope there may be no such waking as that!"
"I should go mad -- stark mad. Shake me till I find out whether it is real waking, downright, earnest. But, Jonathan, why did you call me Miss Dormer when you went away? That was the worst of all. I remember when you called me Ayala first. It went through and through me like an electric shock. But you never saw it -- did you?"
On that afternoon when she returned home she wrote to her sister Lucy, giving a sister's account to her sister of all her happiness. "I am sure Isadore is second best, but Jonathan is best. I don't want you to say so; but if you contradict me I shall stick to it. You remember my telling you that the old woman in the railway said that I was perverse. She was a clever old woman, and knew all about it, for I was perverse. However, it has come all right now, and Jonathan is best of all. Oh, my man -- my man! Is it not sweet to have a man of one's own to love?" If this letter had been written on the day before -- as would have been the case had not Ayala been taken out hunting -- it would have reached Merle Park on the Wednesday, the news would have been made known to Aunt Emmeline, and so conveyed to poor Tom, and that disagreeable journey from Merle Park to Stalham would have been saved. But there was no time for writing on the Monday. The letter was sent away in the Stalham post-bag on the Tuesday evening, and did not reach Merle Park till the Thursday, after Lady Tringle had left the house. Had it been known on that morning that Ayala was engaged to Colonel Stubbs that would have sufficed