Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Sir George Tressady — Volume II by Ward Humphry Mrs
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page
Ebook has 1770 lines and 91835 words, and 36 pages
SIR GEORGE TRESSADY, VOLUME II
IN TWO VOLUMES
MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
PART II
On a hot morning at the end of June, some four weeks after the Castle Luton visit, George Tressady walked from Brook Street to Warwick Square, that he might obtain his mother's signature to a document connected with the Shapetsky negotiations, and go on from there to the House of Commons.
She was not in the drawing-room, and George amused himself during his minutes of waiting by inspecting the various new photographs of the Fullerton family that were generally to be found on her table. What a characteristic table it was, littered with notes and bills, with patterns from every London draper, with fashion-books and ladies' journals innumerable! And what a characteristic room, with its tortured decorations and crowded furniture, and the flattered portraits of Lady Tressady, in every caprice of costume, which covered the walls! George looked round it all with an habitual distaste; yet not without the secret admission that his own drawing-room was very like it.
His mother might, he feared, have a scene in preparation for him.
For Letty, under cover of some lame excuse or other, had persisted in putting off the visit which Lady Tressady had intended to pay them at Ferth during the Whitsuntide recess, and since their return to town there had been no meeting whatever between the two ladies. George, indeed, had seen his mother two or three times. But even he had just let ten days pass without visiting her. He supposed he should find her in a mood of angry complaint; nor could he deny that there would be some grounds for it.
"Good morning, George," said a sharp voice, which startled him as he was replacing a photograph of the latest Fullerton baby. "I thought you had forgotten your way here by now."
"Why, mother, I am very sorry," he said, as he kissed her. "But I have really been terribly busy, what with two Committees and this important debate."
"Oh! don't make excuses, pray. And of course--for Letty--you won't even attempt it. I wouldn't if I were you."
Lady Tressady settled herself on a chair with her back to the light, and straightened the ribbons on her dress with hasty fingers. Something in her voice struck George. He looked at her closely.
"Is there anything wrong, mother? You don't look very well."
Lady Tressady got up hurriedly, and began to move about the room, picking up a letter here, straightening a picture there. George felt a sudden prick of alarm. Were there some new revelations in store for him? But before he could speak she interrupted him.
She sat down again in a shady corner, fanning herself vigorously.
"I am afraid I can't tell you any secrets," said George, smiling, "for I don't know any. But it looks as though Mrs. Allison and Maxwell between them had somehow found a way out."
"How's the mother?"
"You see, she has gone abroad, too--to Bad Wildheim. In fact, Lord Ancoats has taken her."
"That's the place for heart, isn't it?" said his mother, abruptly. "There's a man there that cures everybody."
"I believe so," said George. "May we come to business, mother? I have brought these papers for you to sign, and I must get to the House in good time."
Lady Tressady seemed to take no notice. She got up again, restlessly, and walked to the window.
"How do you like my dress, George? Now, don't imagine anything absurd! Justine made it, and it was quite cheap."
George could not help smiling--all the more that he was conscious of relief. She would not be asking him to admire her dress if there were fresh debts to confess to him.
"It makes you look wonderfully young," he said, turning a critical eye, first upon the elegant gown of some soft pinky stuff in which his mother had arrayed herself, then upon the subtly rouged and powdered face above it. "You are a marvellous person, mother! All the same, I think the heat must have been getting hold of you, for your eyes are tired. Don't racket too much!"
He spoke with his usual careless kindness, laying a hand upon her arm.
Lady Tressady drew herself away, and, turning her back upon him, looked out of the window.
"Have you seen any more of the Maxwells?" she said, over her shoulders.
George gave a slight involuntary start. Then it occurred to him that his mother was making conversation in an odd way.
"Once or twice," he said, reluctantly, in reply. "They were at the Ardaghs' the other night, of course."
"It was a great crush, and very hot," said George, not knowing what to say.
Lady Tressady frowned as she looked out of the window.
"Well!--and Lady Maxwell--is she as absurd as ever?"
"That depends upon one's point of view," said George, smiling. "She seemed as convinced as ever."
"Who sent Mrs. Allison to that place? Barham, I suppose. He always sends his patients there. They say he's in league with the hotel-keepers."
George stared. What was the matter with her? What made her throw out these jerky sentences with this short, hurried breath.
Suddenly Lady Tressady turned.
"George!"
"Yes, mother." He stepped nearer to her. She caught his sleeve.
"George "--there was something like a sob in her voice--"you were quite right. I am ill. There, don't talk about it. The doctors are all fools. And if you tell Letty anything about it, I'll never forgive you."
"You are just overdone with London and the heat," he said. "I saw it at once. You ought to go away."
She looked up in his face.
"You don't believe it?" she said.
Then she seemed to stagger. He saw a terrible drawn look in her face, and, putting out all his strength, he held her, and helped her to a sofa.
"Mother!" he exclaimed, kneeling beside her, "what is the matter?"
Voice and tone were those of another man, and Lady Tressady quailed under the change. She pointed to a small bag on a table near her. He opened it, and she took out a box, from which she swallowed something. Gradually breath and colour returned, and she began to move restlessly.
"That was nothing," she said, as though to herself--"nothing--and it yielded at once. Well, George, I knew you thought me a humbug!"
Her eyes glanced at him with a kind of miserable triumph. He looked down upon her, still kneeling, horror-struck against his will. After a life of acting, was this the truth--this terror, which spoke in every movement, and in some strange way had seized upon and infected himself?
He urgently asked her to be frank with him. And with a sob she poured herself out. It was the tragic, familiar story that every household knows. Grave symptoms, suddenly observed--the hurried visit to a specialist--his verdict and his warnings.
"Of course, he said at first I ought to give up everything and go abroad--to this very same place--Bad-what-do-you-call-it? But I told him straight out I couldn't and wouldn't do anything of the sort. I am just eaten up with engagements. And as to staying at home and lying-up, that's nonsense--I should die of that in a fortnight. So I told him to give me something to take, and that was all I could do. And in the end he quite came round--they always do if you take your own line--and said I had much better do what suited me, and take care. Besides, what do any of them know? They all confess they're just fumbling about. Now, surgery, of course--that's different. Battye"--Battye was Lady Tressady's ordinary medical adviser--"doesn't believe all the other man said. I knew he wouldn't. And as for making an invalid of me, he sees, of course, that it would kill me at once. There, my dear George, don't make too much of it. I think I was a fool to tell you."
And Lady Tressady struggled to a sitting position, looking at her son with a certain hostility. The frown on her white face showed that she was already angry with him for his emotion--this rare emotion, that she had never yet been able to rouse in him.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page