Sleep in Peace (27 page)

It was understood that Frederick and Gwen were to be engaged at least three years before they thought of marriage, owing to Frederick's youth and the deficiencies of his financial position. Both Mr. Armistead and Mr. Hinchliffe were firmly agreed on this point, and Gwen took it for granted; while Frederick was so ecstatically glad to be engaged to Gwen on any terms that he would have agreed to anything. He came to Blackshaw House on certain fixed evenings; on these evenings the fire was lighted in
the drawing-room, and Frederick and Gwen sat there for part of the evening alone. Mr. Armistead would not allow them to be left alone for long, however; he spent some time with them himself, instructed Ludo always to be present for supper, and often swept irascibly into the nursery, the pince-nez he had lately begun to wear uncomfortably askew, a newspaper dangling untidily from one hand, and said in a cross whisper to Laura:

“Go down and sit with your sister.”

At first Laura was dreadfully embarrassed by this order; for to sit and play the spy, unoccupied, was quite intolerable, to sew tedious, to read impolite. But after a time she hit upon the idea of taking some drawing down with her, and soon, on the evenings when Frederick was expected, she surreptitiously arranged a suitable table and materials in one corner of the room beforehand, and was ready to play the complaisant chaperon, seeing nothing but the work in hand. She could not help
hearing
sometimes, however, for Frederick's golden voice was beautifully audible even in a whisper, and he was incapable of observing discretion—which indeed he called by an uglier name. Mr. Armistead's sense of propriety, therefore, brought Laura into a rather close observation of the course of her sister's courtship; and she began to understand, what had at first been utterly incomprehensible to her, how Gwen had come to accept Frederick's attentions. Frederick's feeling for Gwen was adoration; everything she did, everything she said, was noble, beautiful, exquisite, in his eyes. Since he was extremely articulate, with an immense vocabulary and a rich, fancy, he was able to pour out all this in a glowing, golden stream of words—Gwen might well tell herself that no other girl in Hudley was so acclaimed by her love. She sat on the sofa, her fair head bent over some exquisite piece of embroidery which she was preparing for her linen cupboard, very still, with her mysterious smile just curving her thin, well-moulded lips; Frederick in a chair near by sprawled, threw himself about, leaned forward earnestly and poured out his fervent wooing, his fair hair hopelessly
tumbled, his grey eyes brilliant. To his passionate declamation Gwen made almost no reply whatever; she simply sat and smiled, her fine eyelashes on her cheeks; very occasionally, as the reward of some outburst from Frederick particularly pleasing to her, she raised her eyes and looked at him with a quiet mockery in her eyes. This slight mark of favour was enough to send Frederick into ecstasy. To Laura, Frederick's outpourings were preposterous, pathetic, and slightly nauseating. But Gwen, she saw, was happy in the iridescent spray of this ever-gushing fountain of flattery; her beauty bloomed, she became more elegant, more exquisite, more modish, than ever before. She sang about the house, and was sweet to everyone, even Ludo. Laura began to feel much more cheerful about the prospects of her sister's marriage.

“Perhaps,” she said to Grace, “Frederick and Gwen won't be so miserable together after all.”

“If they are not miserable they ought to be,” said Grace fiercely.

Laura, rather startled, considered this for a moment before she gravely agreed. She was often a little startled by Grace's utterances nowadays, for she and Grace were not now together all the day, and so, naturally enough, their thoughts did not run along the same groove together, as they were wont. Grace was receiving special coaching for a scholarship examination; sometimes she studied at the High School, sometimes at the Hudley Technical, sometimes she actually went by train to Leeds! It was clearly understood, and had been settled before Edward went away, that Grace was to win a scholarship, go to London University, take an Honours Degree in History, and teach. Nobody in Hudley had ever done this before, and Grace's career was the talk of the town; but that Grace would do it all with ease, precision and distinction, nobody who knew Grace had any doubt. Exactly how the decision had been arrived at was less clear; Edward, Mr. Hinchliffe, and the High School headmistress doubtless played their parts, as did Grace's school career, but on the whole the plan seemed, like Topsy, to have just growed. In the same way, it was
settled that since Gwen was getting married, Laura of course would stay at home and do the housekeeping. How this was settled, or by whom, never quite emerged; the decision was never taken but was presently observed to have been taken long ago.

“Though if it's to be three years before Gwen leaves,” said Laura mildly, “I don't see why I need give up school quite so soon.”

“It won't be three years,” said Grace.

“You mean, it will be one year or not at all,” said Laura thoughtfully.

Grace slowly nodded.

She was right, it proved; even before she had sat for her scholarship, the Hinchliffe and Armistead households began to throb with discussion of the impending marriage of Frederick and Gwen. Frederick's ardour would not brook delay; he began to plead passionately with Gwen to make him happy. At first Gwen did not take him seriously; she looked at him with affectionate mockery, gave her light, soft laugh and made him no answer. Then came a period when his persistence seemed to trouble her, she snapped when he mentioned marriage, and told him cruelly that the matter rested with himself, since he did not earn enough to support one, much less two. Frederick's face fell ludicrously at this taunt, and he hardly spoke for the rest of the evening; but two nights later he came bounding in, all aglow, with some figures written on a sheet of paper, to prove that if Gwen were prepared to start life with him in a small way, they really could marry at once and have a little home of their own. Gwen, at first startled and irritated, listened perforce, though crossly, to his unceasing eloquence, and was gradually won by his glowing pictures of that little house of their own. After all, many of her friends were already married and had a little house of their own. They would start life in a small way, of course. These phrases, “a little house of their own” and “in a small way” forthwith began to pervade
every conversation in Blackshaw House and Cromwell Place. Mr. Armistead, who could refuse Gwen nothing, called and had a serious talk with Mr. Hinchliffe, who showed himself much more amenable than Laura had expected—business was brisk, and Mr. Armistead was, after all, one of his best customers, and seemed to have given up that speculating nonsense, and to be settling down into a solid man.

Accordingly it began to seem likely that the two families between them would be able to squeeze out an income sufficient for Frederick and Gwen to set up house—in a small way. Each morning as Laura and Gwen walked down to town to do the household shopping, each afternoon as they sat together and sewed, Gwen explained to Laura the sources of this income-to-be. Mr. Hinchliffe would raise Frederick's salary to £4 a week. Then there were Gwen's five hundred shares in Blackshaw Mills, given her to repay the loan for the gas-engines; these now brought in £25 a year. Then Mr. Armistead proposed to make Gwen a dress allowance—the amount of this tended to fluctuate according to his mood, but Gwen spoke'of it firmly as £25 a year, and when Gwen spoke firmly, so it would be. Then, Frederick was positively earning money by some articles he wrote for the
Hudley News
, by English classes at the Hudley Technical, and also by coaching some backward boys at the Hudley Grammar School. Altogether, from one source or another, the young couple might count on £350 a year. As regards the house furnishing, it was the Armisteads' duty, of course, to provide the linen, and Mr. Hinchliffe was to lend Frederick money for tables and chairs. In a small way, they would just be able to manage. Mr. Armistead did indeed once remark mournfully that it was not the establishment he had hoped for, for Gwen, but he was met by such fury, and such tears, that he desisted in alarm and offered no further obstacle to the marriage.

“It seems a little odd to me,” commented Grace, lifting her
head, “that Father can find so much money for Frederick to marry Gwen, when he refused him a penny to further his scholastic career.”

Laura agreed that it was odd, but she spoke rather absently; parents were always odd—it was only to be expected—and she was busy admiring Grace's hair. For Grace, who had (of course) won her scholarship and was off to London next term, had “put up” her hair—indeed she had come to Blackshaw House to-night to show it to Laura. Her rich tawny mane was compressed into a thick roll round the back of her head from ear to ear, secured with combs. The combs showed a tendency to fall out, and ends of hair protruded in abundance, but Laura well understood that these were mere details, not part of the general scheme, and not to be unduly regarded. The general effect was one of dignity, and made Grace look handsome and tall.

“I shall have to put mine up too, I suppose,” said Laura wonderingly.

“Oh,
do
, Laura!” cried Grace, bounding up and down on the bed.

“I don't know what Gwen would say,” hesitated Laura.

Gwen, when consulted, said emphatically that Laura was far too young.

“Eighteen is soon enough,” she said.

“I shall be eighteen in January,” said Laura.

“You can put it up when I'm married,” said Gwen.

Her face softened as she went off into an eager discussion of her wedding plans.

Some land adjoining Prince's Road, belonging to a mansion which had stood untenanted for several years, had just been sold in lots for building, and rows of small houses were in process of erection; one of these was to be occupied by Frederick and Gwen. The estate was, in fact, old Spencer Thwaite's, and Gwen found in this a romantic appeasement—“It's a small house on my grandfather's estate,” she told her friends. Frederick, with Mr. Hinchliffe's
help, was buying this house through the Hudley Building Society; that is to say, the house-deeds were in his name but the house was mortgaged to the Society; he had paid a deposit and promised to make a small weekly payment till the whole purchase sum should be cleared. The number of years required for this process seemed to Laura astronomical, but if Mr. Hinchliffe thought the proposition sound, she supposed it was all right. Bedroom suites of fumed oak were selected, carpets of bright hue and engaging pattern chosen; Gwen hemmed curtains—of the new cream casement cloth, very modish—and Frederick subdued his clumsy fingers to the making of wool and canvas mats. Gwen and Laura drew near to each other during these preparations. Partly this was due to Frederick's whole-hearted delight in them—the idea of having a whole house to himself with Gwen filled Frederick with joy, and he wandered about the empty little rooms in a happy trance, his grey eyes beaming, measuring (not very accurately) window-frames and door-sills, making improbable suggestions about the disposal of the furniture, and talking irrepressibly. His pride and joy were infectious, and Gwen and Laura shared a real happiness in watching them. They also shared, and were united by, a feeling of opposition to Mrs. Hinchliffe. It seemed to Laura that since the house in Prince's Road Terrace was to be the home of Frederick and Gwen, Frederick and Gwen should choose what was to go in it. But Mrs. Hinchliffe's views of what was suitable often differed (naturally) from Gwen's, and she pressed her views with a mild obstinacy which even Gwen did not always manage to beat down.

“She talks to Frederick when I'm not there, and explains things to him all wrong,” fumed Gwen, retiring from one of these contests, this time over the kitchen linoleum, flushed and defeated. Laura thought this a shame, and said so.

“Thank goodness the wedding at least will be entirely in our hands,” said Gwen.

Mr. Armistead intended that the wedding of his eldest daughter
should be worthy of the Armisteads' notion of themselves, and preparations were made on a lavish scale. Ludo muttered about the expense from time to time, but Mr. Armistead pshawed him down, Gwen reproved him sharply, and even Laura thought it rather mean of him. Gwen was, of course, to be married in white, and Laura was to be her bridesmaid.

“Will Grace think she ought to be asked?” Gwen asked her sister.

Laura frowned, annoyed, and replied crossly that Grace did not look at things in that way. Think she ought to be asked, indeed! How vulgar! After a moment, however, Laura added honestly: “But I daresay Mr. and Mrs. Hinchliffe will think so.”

Grace was accordingly invited to be a bridesmaid, and, somewhat to Laura's surprise, consented. She found out later, however, that Grace was angry with Edward because he declined to return from Germany for Frederick's wedding, and was therefore particularly determined that she at least should stand beside Frederick in his ordeal. (That a society wedding would be an ordeal for Frederick, nobody was in doubt.) Laura sighed. How complex everything was!

“It's very difficult, Grace being in London,” said Gwen, and enlarged upon this subject copiously.

“Don't have Grace for your bridesmaid, then, dear,” said Mrs. Hinchliffe. She spoke mildly, but (as Laura and Gwen both knew) was furious.

“Oh, I want to
have
Grace,” said Gwen condescendingly. “But it's a little difficult, her being in London.”

This conversation was repeated
ad nauseam
until Grace's return to Hudley for the Christmas vacation. Grace looked older, but in some indefinable way more alive, more sparkling; her hair still fell down her back at unexpected moments, and she still grinned, but her body was more shapely and her profile seemed to have settled into distinguished lines. At times she spoke to Gwen, not as a child but as an equal; and Gwen seemed not to
mind. Gwen, overriding Mrs. Hinchliffe's views of what was suitable for bridesmaids, at the instance of her dressmaker (the most expensive in Hudley) chose for them a rather simple, pretty frock in a dull gold shade. Sheaves of bronze and gold chrysanthemums could be carried by the bridesmaids, urged the dressmaker; it would be a novel and charming colour scheme. Laura and Grace adopted the idea with enthusiasm, and Mrs. Hinchliffe's objections were lost in the general chorus. Next morning early, however, Grace rang the Blackshaw House bell. She wore that look of sardonic scorn which brought out the family resemblance between herself and Edward so markedly: her eyes were narrowed, her nostrils dilated, her head held very high.