She was looking at me a little scornfully. It was true that I was very slender. Grand’mere worried that I did not eat enough.
I was glad when Julia went; and then I kept turning over in my mind what she had said.
I hated to think of Julia as a rival. Yet she did not like our meetings in the parks; she was eager to tell me he was her friend … close friend, she had pointed out. What did she mean by that? Was she warning me in comparing Drake with Charles?
I thought Julia was jealous, and I remembered her fury of long ago when she knew that Drake had left after a quarrel with Charles; and that had been on my account.
It was a few days later when I first noticed the man in the park. He was sitting on a bench near the one which we occupied and whenever I glanced casually his way he seemed to be looking in my direction. I fancied I had seen him there before.
He was of medium height, dark-haired, greying at the temples; he might have been about forty years of age, distinguished looking in a foreign way. It was something about the cut of his clothes as well as his looks which made me feel that he was not English.
Julia had joined us as usual. Katie played happily; Drake, who had been talking animatedly before Julia’s arrival, was now restrained.
I was beginning to think that as Julia resented my friendship with Drake so much, and made a point of joining us, I should find some excuse not to come. Cassie would be only too happy to take Katie to the park.
The next day I saw the man again. He really did seem to watch me intently. I might have thought I had imagined this but Julia had noticed.
”I do declare Lenore has an admirer,” she cried.
“What?” said Drake.
“The not-so-young gentleman over there. He can hardly take his eyes from her. I saw him here yesterday. Lenore, have you a secret lover?”
“I have no idea who he is,” I said.
“Well, he is gazing at you with a kind of rapture.”
“What nonsense! I am sure he is unaware of us.”
“Of us, my dear, but not of you.”
I felt I wanted to get away.
“I have to go back early today, Katie,” I called.
Katie was disappointed to be called from play, but she was of such a happy sunny nature that she never sulked.
“Come along,” I said.
Drake rose and stood up, prepared to leave.
“Don’t come if you’d rather stay,” I said.
Julia laid her hand on Drake’s arm. ”We’ll sit here for a little while,” she said, “and then I want you to come back to luncheon, Drake. There will be just a small parry. I’m counting on you.”
I did not wait for more. I took Katie’s hand and hurried her away.
She cried: “Look at that little duck, Mama. He’s ruffling his feathers. I think he’s rather angry. Perhaps he’s hungry. Oh, I wish I had some bread to give him.”
“Next time we’ll bring some,” I promised.
“Your face is red,” she said. “Are you angry?”
“Of course not.”
”Not with Aunt Julia?”
“No.”
“Then with Quack-Quack.”
“No, darling, I’m not angry at all.”
“You look angry.”
“No. Just in a hurry.”
I was aware of footsteps behind, and I thought for a moment that Drake was coining after us. I glanced over my shoulder. It was the man whom Julia had said was watching me.
I felt a touch of uneasiness. I was in a very sensitive mood today. Of course he wasn’t following me. Why should he?
We left the park and crossed the road. We turned the corner. I glanced back. The man was still behind. As we went in he passed slowly on the other side of the street.
It seemed that there would be an election in the following year. Everyone was saying that surely Gladstone must retire now that he was eighty-two—certainly not of an age to lead the country.
Drake was very excited at the prospect of an election and thought the Liberals had a fair chance. In spite of his great age Gladstone was popular with the people. They called him the Grand Old Man and the People’s William. It was true that the Grand Old Man refused to give up.
Drake was very busy and I saw less of him. It was growing too cold to sit in the park. Katie and I walked there and Mia did not appear because she knew Drake was working in Swaddingham.
The proposed weekend had had to be postponed—but only briefly, Drake had insisted.
Charles was married that autumn. I had an invitation to his wedding which I wanted to refuse; but Cassie naturally had had to go to her brother’s wedding and she begged me to go with her. We had made the bride’s gown and the Countess was also invited.
It was a grand affair in St. George’s Hanover Square and later there was a reception at Claridges. Charles looked very pleased with himself and the bride seemed happy. Her gown was exquisite and I saw the Countess watching, her eyes glittering, probably speculating as to how much business this would bring us.
Julia was there looking splendid. She spoke to us briefly.
“It will be your turn next,” she said to Cassie.
“I’ve no wish to have a turn,” retorted Cassie promptly.
“If you are so persistent in clinging to your spinsterhood, no one will bother to take it from you,” warned Julia.
”I like things as they are.”
”There is nothing like a wedding to bring satisfaction to both parties … like today,” commented Julia.
“I hope they’ll be happy,” I said.
”They will if they are sensible. She has been longing to find a husband and Charles is desperately in need of a wife. Miss Money Bags is just the right answer to his prayers.” She laughed at me. “You’re shocked. You know you are easily shocked.” She looked round. “Drake’s not here. He wasn’t invited. Charles wouldn’t, would he? Charles never forgets old scores. I told him he was vengeful. After all, how many years is it since Drake threw him in the lake?”
“I expect Drake was too busy to come,” said Cassie. “He has the election to think of.”
“Voters like their members to have wives,” said Julia. “It’s a recognized thing. A member has a great deal to do. He needs a wife.” She looked at me archly. “I must tell him so. I know just the sort he should have. Someone who knows the world and has the money to entertain lavishly … someone who can mix and go about with him … looking pleasant.”
I did not answer.
“He’ll come round to it,” she went on. “As a matter of fact, I believe he is considering it now and … with a little help from me … I believe he will choose the right one.”
“Let us hope for his own sake that he does,” I said.
“I mean the woman who can help him along. Drake is very sensible, you know. Not the sort of man who would fall in love with the beggar maid. Drake will fall in love judiciously.”
“What a clever thing to do,” I said.
”Oh, Drake is very clever. The great thing in his life is his career. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were not dreaming of step-ping into dear old Gladstone’s shoes. Oh, not yet, of course. The Grand Old Man it seems is not finished and there are many stepping stones to be crossed. But Drake would always have his eyes open to the main chance. You’ll see. He’ll marry a woman who knows how to be a social hostess—and a little money will not come amiss.”
“I should hate to think a friend was so mercenary.”
“You misinterpret my words. Now when did I say he was mercenary? I call it wisdom. Look at Disraeli. Now he was a clever man. He married his Mary Anne for her money. He needed that money. If you’re going to climb the greasy pole— Disraeli again—you need to be well protected with money if, when you get to the top of it, you’re going to stay there. This happy pair will soon be going off to their honeymoon in Florence. Why does everyone go to Italy for their honeymoon?”