The Unknown Mr. Brown (20 page)

“Is she going away?” Robert said after a brief pause, and his eyes rested for a moment on Victoria standing uncertainly in the doorway.

“She won’t if you say she’s not to. It’s that Brown person making spells again. He’s really a wizard, you know.”

“Don’t be silly, Timmy, he’s nothing of the sort,” Kate said rather sharply. “And if Victoria wants to leave us, Uncle Rob can’t stop her.”

“
Can’t
you, Uncle Rab? But I heard you say—” the boy began bouncing up and down with excitement, but Robert interrupted, at the same time pressing him firmly back on to his pillow:

“Never mind what you thought you heard me say, young man. One doesn’t repeat what isn’t intended for one’s ears, and it’s time you settled down and went to sleep, anyway.”

Back again in the parlour, with drinks at their elbows he said to Kate:

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve hardly had a chance since you arrived, have I?” she protested with some truth.

“No, but we’ve spoken on the telephone.”

“Only to fix up this week-end. Besides, I imagined if Victoria wanted you to know, she would have told you herself.”

“Did you, Kate? Well, it’s of little consequence. When does she want to leave?”

“You don’t sound very surprised. As usual, we are waiting upon Mr. Brown’s pleasure.”

“I see. And what if he continues to disregard his protégée’s whims?”

“I don’t think he will this time, since I’ve made my own wishes clear.”

“I see,” he said again. “Have you and Victoria fallen out?”

“In a manner of speaking, but I do honestly believe a change is called for. You’re largely to blame Robert. If you were really serious when you told me you wanted to marry her you’ve gone a very odd way about things, and I don’t imagine that’s the impression she has given Mr. Brown.”

“Oh? Do I take it then that I’m the villain of the piece?”

“I’ve no idea, I’m not in Victoria’s confidence. You’d better ask John,” Kate said rather shortly, and his eyebrows rose.

“Dear me! Am I to assume that the faithful doctor is in danger of transferring his affections?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied with an unconvincing air of indifference, “but she certainly took his advice in the matter of providing Mr. Brown with a more substantial reason for leaving. Whether he, or the lawyers, take a serious view of the situation is yet to be known, but I for one think, it’s time that gentleman took his responsibilities more actively. It wouldn’t hurt him to pay us a casual visit without letting on who he is.”

“Very true, but for all you know he may have done just that. Now I come to think of it I wonder it’s never occurred to Victoria’s lively imagination. You could both of you have gained much entertainment by inventing hidden identities for casual callers, or the vicar—or even the doctor with his fatherly interest and good advice. Now there is a man who might well feel impelled towards philanthropy without letting his noble intentions be known,” Robert said with rather disconcerting enjoyment, and she smiled, though without much amusement.

“Very likely,” she retorted, “but John, though he’s comfortably off and has a good practice, can hardly be described as a rich tycoon, and Mr. Brown’s little whim must have cost him plenty.”

“No more than the keep and education of the daughter of any well-to-do parents, and you’ve no valid reason for inventing rich tycoons,” he said, getting to his feet as Victoria came into the room.

“We were discussing the probable or improbable identity of your patron, Victoria. Has it occurred to you that the attentive Dr. Squires might well fill the bill?” he continued, pouring her a glass of sherry.

“For heaven’s sake! Don’t go putting fresh nonsense into the poor child’s head!” Kate exclaimed, observing the gleam of interest which momentarily brightened the girl’s eyes, but Victoria was used by now to Robert’s methods of getting a rise and became aware at the same time that Kate was not enjoying this latest flight of fancy.

“That of course would be a very happy ending if it were in any way likely, but even my fertile imagination hasn’t grasped at that straw,” she said, and caught Robert’s faint smile of appreciation as he handed her the sherry.

“I don’t know that the worthy doctor would care to be likened to a straw, but we’ll let that pass,” he said, observing with interest the indignant glint in Kate’s brown eyes, and Victoria, also noticing, gave him a chilly glance.

“John Squires is good and kind and worth ten of you,” she said, and his eyes held a fleeting twinkle.

“I bow to your superior knowledge,” he replied with mock humility. “And now let’s settle for a pleasant weekend and a return to less controversial matters.”

Once seated round the table, Robert steered the conversation into mundane channels with considerable skill, and insisted on Elspeth being summoned to the dining-room to have her health drunk.

“Och, get away with you, Mr. Rab! Have you no better excuse for a toast than a plain body that’s paid to cook your vittles?” she retorted with uncompromising bluntness, and her eyes dwelt for a moment on Kate but lingered longest on Victoria, who sat, her face pale and politely attentive in the candlelight while she remembered the almost identical details of that last special occasion. As if he had guessed her thoughts, Robert said softly:

“Only the champagne is missing. I should have thought of that, shouldn’t I, Elspeth?”

“Aye, you should, but one wine is as good as another for the purpose. Have you no other tricks up your sleeve, Mr. Rab?” Elspeth said. “It may be the last chance you’ll have for wishing Miss Toria well.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he replied casually, “but since I understand Miss Toria’s departure still requires the sanction of authority, I will give you Mr. Brown—may his schemes prosper and his shadow never grow less!” He solemnly raised his glass and drank, and almost without volition, Kate and Victoria followed suit, but Elspeth set her glass down on the table unfinished and made for the door.

“And that’s a toast I’ll no’ be troubling with! Shame on you, Mr. Rab, for making fun of an occasion that should be serious! Mr. Brown, indeed! If any such pairson exists, he’s no better than a bogle to frighten the bairns with!” she exclaimed, her accent broadening in outrage, and she stalked out of the room.

For a moment there was an astonished silence, then Kate and Victoria succumbed simultaneously to giggles.

“Oh!” gasped Kate, wiping her eyes. “
Poor
Mr. Brown—just a bogle to frighten the bairns with!”

“Many a true word spoken in jest,” observed Robert, whose laughter had been rather more perfunctory. “Haven’t you been obedient to orders for rather too long, Victoria Mary?” He did not speak with any great seriousness, but her merriment was quenched.

“I’ve had no choice,” she replied gravely. “Besides, debts have to be paid in whatever coin is stipulated and, bogle or not, I have nothing but gratitude for Mr. Brown.”

“And to what extreme might that carry you?” he asked, his manner suddenly as sober as hers, and Kate, conscious that she was momentarily redundant, murmured some excuse and left the room.

“Well?” said Robert, absently snuffing out a guttering candle between finger and thumb.

“I don’t know,” she said nervously, scooping up breadcrumbs into neat little piles beside her plate. “It would depend on what was asked, but as the only demands have been purely functional all these years, I’m not likely to be put to the test, am I?”

“Oh, you never know! Even the most amiable of Shylocks has a habit of exacting his pound of flesh,” he replied with a lightness that was far from reassuring, and she looked across at him with widening eyes.

“Do you mean he might be a money-lender? I never thought of that,” she said, and he pushed back his chair with an irritable little jerk.

“No, I don’t,” he replied, beginning to snuff out the remaining candles. “I was speaking figuratively, as you are quite intelligent enough to know. Now, we’d better abandon this unrewarding topic and go and join Kate who, with the best of intentions, has made a tactful, if unnecessary withdrawal,” he said, and blew out the last of the candles.

The curtains had been left undrawn across the windows since the evening was very sultry and something of daylight still remained, but with the dousing of the candles the room seemed suddenly dark and Victoria, groping her way to the door, stumbled against Robert. He put out a hand to steady her, holding her against him for a moment, and she said a little breathlessly:

“What are you after, Robert? Why are you treating everything as if it didn’t matter?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Not really—unless you’re trying to let me down lightly. I wasn’t planning to treat you to—to sentimental recriminations when I asked you to come down.”

“Weren’t you? What a pity. Still, there’s no reason why you should suppose I feared recriminations, was there? After all, it was you who turned
me
down.”

“Yes ... yes, I did, didn’t I?” she said, sounding rather surprised, then confused memories of the insulting implication of that untimely proposal stiffened her weakening resolve.

“You could hardly,” she said, trying to wriggle out of his suddenly tightened grip, “have expected me to fall into your arms with gratitude at a rather obvious attempt to soothe my feelings.”

“I’m not the type to deal in soothing syrup, as you should know by now,” he retorted, his voice a little rough above her head, “but you chose to be bloody-minded in order to save your silly little pride and you’ve only yourself to blame if the whole thing’s backfired on you.”

“What do you mean, backfired? Are you flattering yourself that I have regrets?”

“Well, haven’t you? I should hate to think that all this sound and fury has no more reality than the one-sided imaginary scenes you probably indulge in with the absent Mr. Brown.”

“How dare you mock at my dreams? How dare you mock at Mr. Brown who, if nothing else, has cared enough to give me the start in life my father had planned for me?” she burst out, and heard him sigh as he gently released her.

“Dear, stubborn little ostrich—I would never mock at your dreams, but they’re sometimes more pertinent than you think. As for Mr. Brown, I’m of the opinion that it’s high time that gentleman revealed himself or left the field to less exalted persons. I, for one, am beginning to find him a bore.”

As she lay tossing in bed that night, unable to sleep for the heat, and the conflicting emotions which troubled her spirit, Victoria bitterly regretted her impulse to make peace with Robert for Kate’s sake. It was years since she had consoled herself with imaginary meetings with Mr. Brown and still more unlikely happy endings, but the subterfuge still worked. Her limbs relaxed and her eyelids grew heavy as she conjured up pictures of a faceless old gentleman who listened gravely to her grievances and patted her kindly on the head. “There, there, my dear, it’s all for the best. I never did like that browbeating barrister, so just forget him,” he was saying comfortingly as she fell asleep, and he must have continued talking right through her dreams, for when she woke a voice was saying: “Forget your dreams, my dear. I’ve brought you a surprise.” Victoria opened her eyes, still hazy with sleep, but it was only Kate standing by her bed with a breakfast tray, a quizzical smile twisting her lips.

“You were smiling most charmingly in your sleep,” she said. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Mr. Brown. I thought you were him,” Victoria answered, still only half awake, and Kate’s eyebrows rose.

“Very curious,” she observed a shade cynically. “Well, I hope the contents of your letter will match the promise of your dream.”

“What letter?”

“The long-awaited answer to yours, one must assume. That’s the surprise.”

“Oh!” Victoria struggled into a sitting position, snatching at the legal-looking communication, then held it rather gingerly as if she were afraid it might burn her.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Kate asked curiously, but Victoria slipped the letter under her pillow.

“Later,” she said briefly, and Kate smiled somewhat doubtfully and sat down on the side of the bed.

“Victoria—” she began a little diffidently, “I don’t know whether this will be good or bad news, but whatever it is, try to be philosophical.”

“Haven’t you heard, too?”

“No, but I didn’t put my own views very strongly, despite our unedifying little bout of mud-slinging. I’m very fond of you, my dear, and only want what’s best for you. Remember that, won’t you?”

Quick tears brightened Victoria’s eyes for a moment and she thrust out a willing hand.

“Oh, Kate,” she said, “I’ve been so wretched thinking I must seem so ungrateful, after all you’ve done for me.”

“I’ve done nothing but employ you, so don’t go making mountains out of molehills. If it so happened that I also felt affection for you, there’s no need to feel beholden for that,” Kate answered with her more familiar briskness, and Victoria gave her that slow, lifting smile which had been noticeably absent these past days.

“Dear Kate ...” she said with lingering fondness, “I’m so glad to think you may miss me a little when I’m gone.”

“Don’t rush your fences! You won’t know till you open that letter what the immediate future may hold. That’s why I counselled philosophy. Do you really want to go, Victoria? Hasn’t Robert talked any sense into you?”

“If you mean did he use persuasion when you so tactfully left us alone after dinner, no, he didn’t. He was much too occupied sharpening his wits and his tongue at my expense to indulge in any helpful conversation,” Victoria replied coolly and seemingly without concern, and Kate said: “Oh, dear, I had rather hoped ... still, you should know Robert by this time. He has curious ways of bringing about his intentions,” she said.

“His intentions, I think, were never very clear or very serious, dear Kate, so don’t distress yourself on that count. Now, if you’ll agree, I’d like to take Timmy for a picnic: if the weather holds. That will give
you
time to have sense talked in to you.”

As soon as the door had closed behind her, Victoria pushed her plate away and snatched the letter from under her pillow. She did not know why she had felt such a strong desire to read it in private, but now that she was alone she could restrain her curiosity no longer.

Mr. Brown had been disturbed by the news conveyed to him in her letter of the 5th inst., Mr. Chappie had written. He considered it unwise, however, to seek fresh employment for so short a period, since his plans for the future had been cut and dried for some time. He was prepared to arrange a meeting at once in order to put certain propositions before her. Mr. Brown, Mr. Chappie pointed out with rather coy ambiguity, was neither senile nor in poor health, so he trusted that in view of past advantages she would look favourably upon his suggestions. If she would call at their city branch on Monday next, the 15th, at eleven-thirty precisely, Mr. Brown would make himself known to her and put forward his plans for their mutual consideration. They were, hers faithfully, etc. ...

“
Well
, blow me down!” she exclaimed inelegantly, and sprang out of bed. She couldn’t wait to get dressed before imparting such momentous news to Kate and without troubling with dressing-gown or slippers, raced downstairs in her pyjamas.

But Kate was nowhere about and it was Robert who appeared in answer to her excited shouts, the morning paper tucked under his arm.