The Black Benedicts (5 page)

That, at least, made her flush a little. He could see the faint wave of carmine rise up
in
her cheeks, and her grey eyes retreated for an instant behind their long eyelashes.

“
I suppose I ought to apologize for what I did
this
morning,
”
she managed at last, a little stiffly,
“
but I wasn
’
t conscious at the time of doing anything particularly outrageous. You see, I am used to horses, and in our family animals of every sort and kind have always played a very prominent part. We probably don
’
t think enough before we approach them—the more spirited kind, that is—but I
’
ve never been bitten or ma
ul
ed or kicked by any animal. My grandfather shot tigers, and my father could tame the
‘
heart out of a wild cat.
”

“
That
’
s most interesting,
”
he observed drily.

“
But your Saladin, of course, is different.
”

“
I don
’
t know enough about my Saladin,
”
he admitted,
“
to be able to tell you whether he is merely different, or whether he is possessed of a kind of devil, or whether it is simply nervousness and in the end he will prove tameable. I only bought him a little over a week ago, and as yet I haven
’
t discovered that he possesses any real virtues, apart from
hi
s looks, which are obvious. However,
”
glancing at his watch,
“
I didn
’
t ask you to come here to discuss Saladin, and, as I
’
ve already told you, my time is short.
”

He continued to pace up and down the room, reminding her more and more of a restless
animal
himself.

“
I don
’
t want to know what you
’
ve been doing before you came here,
”
he said shortly.
“
You look to me as if you might be good for Serena—and I
don
’
t think you can do her very much harm
,
”
glancing at her obliquely.

Really,
thought Mallory, he was
insufferable
...

“
You are young, and that is what she needs—someone who can keep her amused, and give her a reasonable amount of instruction, and keep her in
order, too, when necessary. She is slightly precocious
...”

“
Have you thought of sending her to school
?”
Mallory asked.

“
I have, but I don
’
t intend to do so—at least,
not yet awhile.
”

“I see,” said Mallory quietly.

“
I don
’
t believe in packing young children off to boarding-school when a home can be provided for them, especially during their most impressionable years. I suffered from that sort of thing myself—mo
s
t boys do—but a girl is a very different proposition. A girl should be handled with less brutality.
”

“
A girl is more easily spoiled,
”
Mallory murmured, thinking that these expressed sentiments of his were somewhat surprising.
“
And boarding-schools for girls are sometimes excellent. I went to one myself.
”

“
And you survived
?”
with a kind of irony.

“
Certainly I survived. They were the happiest
days of my life.
”

“
My dear girl,
”
he told her brusquely,
“
you are only at the very beginning of your life, and know nothing at all about happiness—as yet!
”

He swept up a camel greatcoat from the back of a chair and also a dispatch-case.

“
Mrs. Carpenter tells me that you have already met my brother, Serena
’
s father?
”
His voice was suddenly pitched in a lower key, and she detected a new note of seriousness in it.
“
I think I
’
d better explain to you that my brother Adrian was the victim of an accident a few years ago which deprived him not only of his wife but of his health, and even to-day he is not an entirely fit man. He has few interests in life save this house and its
s
urroundings and his piano-playing, and even Serena has never meant very much to
him.
I should be glad, Miss Gower—perhaps gratef
u
l would be a better word—if, should he show any disposition to talk to you at times, possibly on such a subject as his music, you would not feel inclined to snub him. It is not often that he betrays any interest in anyone, but the housekeeper seems to think you made an impression
...
”

“
Oh, really?
”
said Mallory, considerably surprised.

The cold, sarcastic look crept back into his eyes.
“
Does that astonish you so much? Do
modern
young women under-value themselves?
”

He moved towards the door.

“
I must go. I
’
ve already told you I
’
ve a train to catch
...
”
And then he stepped briskly ba
ck
to her side, and his eyes this time were hard and keen.
“
But before I go I want to be sure you will not inveigle my niece on to the back of Saladin, or even Shamrock, while I am away! I want your word for it that you recognize your responsibility where she is concerned.
”

“
Really,
Mr. Benedict,
”
Mallory almost gasped,
“
as if I would!
”
She was affronted at last, and the shock of what he must think of her turned her quite white.
“
I am not irresponsible
...
”

“
Well, perhaps you are not...
”

There came a quick tap at the door and Mrs. Carpenter put her head round it.

“
The car is waiting, Mr. Raife, and you have not a great deal of time.
”

“
I
’
m coming, Carpie,
”
he told her. He looked again at Mallory, nodded his head curtly, and then said:
“
Very well!
”

When he had swept from the room, and the sound of Fardyce, the chauffeur, closing upon his master the rear door of the expensive silver-grey car which had brought her from the station
reached her ears, she went out into the hall and stood beside Mrs. Carpenter, who was gazing with strange thoughtfulness out through the open front door.

“
I suppose it
’
s because I never go up to Town these days,
”
the housekeeper remarked, almost as if she was communing with herself,
“
and it
’
s quite a few years now since Mr. Raife gave up the town house and took a flat instead—
o
ne of those flats they call a service flat—but living in the country I
’
ve become used somehow to peace and quiet, and when we have visitors I feel as if our peace no longer exists. There
’
s always so much bustle and upset, and in a few days that
’
s what we shall have to put up with.
”

Mallory glanced at her for explanation.

“
Do you mean that Mr. Benedict will be bringing friends back with him when he returns?
”

“
Miss Sonia Martingale, the ballet dancer, and possibly one or two others as well. Miss Martingale has been ill recently and ordered to rest. Mr. Raife is bringing her back by road.
”
She paused.
“
Of course, he is going on business as well,
but ...
I
’
ve been ordered to get the yellow guest chamber ready. The yellow guest chamber has been recently redecorated and furnished at great expense
..
.
”
The significance of this did not fail to sink into
Mallory
’
s brain.

“
Then Miss Martingale is rather a—particular friend of Mr. Benedict
’
s?
”

“
I didn
’
t think so at one time, but it certainly does begin to look rather like
it...!”

CHAPTER FOUR

M
allory
went upstairs slowly and found her way along the now slightly more familiar corridor to the school-room, where she discovered Serena curled up on the window-seat. She was not reading, or employing herself in any way, and she looked as if she had not yet fully recovered from her rebuff of the morning. Darcy had insisted that she
‘
rest
’
for half an hour after lunch, but Mallory had already made up her mind while ascending the stairs that this was an unnecessary indulgence which would very shortly be stopped. She was not anxious to come to grips with Darcy so very soon after her arrival, but there were many things which, in her opinion, would have to be revised and gone into, and a nine-year-old girl being, ordered to withdraw to her room and lie down on her bed for half an hour after lunch was one of them.

So far as
she
had been able to discover, there were very few books in the school-room, either for pleasure or for the purpose of educating a youthful mind. Copies of the
Wind in the Willows,
Edward Lear
’
s
Nonsense Rhymes,
and
Alice Through the Looking-Glass
were on a shelf beside the fireplace, together with some very well thumbed and definitely childish books, but that was all.
“
We
’
ll have to discuss this matter with your uncle when he comes back and get him to buy you some new books,
”
Mallory, standing in front of the book-case, remarked to her pupil.

Serena looked up at her without betraying very much interest.

“
There are heaps and heaps and
heaps
of books in the library,
”
she said,
“
and Uncle Raife gave me permission to take whatever I want from there. But they are all so old, and so dull, except one or two, which I rather liked.
”

“
And what were those?
”
Mallory asked, with curiosity.

“
There was one called
East
L
ynne,
and another
”
—she named a somewhat sensational Victorian novel which had been popular in its day—
“
which I thought rather silly, very silly
...
”

“
Upon my word, Serena,
”
Mallory exclaimed, amazed that so little real supervision had ever entered into the child
’
s life,
“
do you mean to tell me that no one
—no one
—has ever organized your reading, and that you were allowed to take books of that sort out of the library? And to bring them up
here
?”

“
Why, of course,
”
Serena answered mildly, her glorious eyes a little perplexed, and inclined also to twinkle slightly.
“
But I mostly read them in bed, and kept them under my pillows so that they would be handy.
”

“
And Darcy said nothing about them?
”

Serena shook her head.

“
Why should she?
”

Mallory gave it up. But this going to bed at six o
’
clock at night after a day which included little exercise and staying awake until midnight, if she felt so disposed, was another of the things which would have to be stopped. She foresaw that the battle of wills with Darcy would have to be sooner than she, personally, would have wished.

“
Well, now,
”
s
he said,
“
as it
’
s a wet afternoon, and you have literally no school books, we
’
ll have a nice wholesome game of Ludo until tea-time, and
then afterwards, If you
’
re good, we
’
ll dip into some of the
Nonsense Rhymes.
And tomorrow I
’
ll find out what you do know about such straightforward subjects as history, geography and arithmetic.
”

Serena sprang up to get the Ludo board.

“
I
can
tell you how many wives Henry the Eighth had, but I
’
m no good at arithmetic,
”
she admitted candidly.
“
And if we
’
re going to have the
Nonsense Rhymes,
do let us have the one about
‘
Bingy Bongy Bo
’
.
”
And she started to recite: