EDWARD SEVERNE, master of arts, dreaded Rhoda Gale, M.D. He had deluded, in various degrees, several ladies that were no fools; but here was one who staggered and puzzled him. Bright and keen as steel, quick and spirited, yet controlled by judgment and always mistress of herself, she seemed to him a new species. The worst of it was, he felt himself in the power of this new woman, and, indeed, he saw no limit to the mischief she might possibly do him if she and Zoe compared notes. He had thought the matter over, and realized this more than he did when in London. Hence the good youth's delight at her illness, noticed in a former chapter.
He was very thoughtful all breakfast time, and as soon as it was over drew Vizard apart, and said he would postpone his visit to London until he had communicated with his man of business. He would go to the station and telegraph him, and by that means would do the civil and meet Miss Gale. Vizard stared at him.
"You meet my virago? Why, I thought you disapproved her entirely.""No, no; only the idea of a female doctor, not the lady herself. Besides, it is a rule with me, my dear fellow, never to let myself disapprove my friends' friends.""That is a bright idea, and you are a good fellow," said Vizard. "Go and meet the pest, by all means, and bring her here to luncheon. After luncheon we will drive her up to the farm and ensconce her."Edward Severne had this advantage over most impostors, that he was masculine or feminine as occasion required. For instance, he could be hysterical or bold to serve the turn. Another example--he watched faces like a woman, and yet he could look you in the face like a man, especially when he was lying. In the present conjuncture a crafty woman would have bristled with all the arts of self-defense, but stayed at home and kept close to Zoe. Not so our master of arts; he went manfully to meet Rhoda Gale, and so secure a _te'te-'a-te'te,_ and learn, if possible, what she meant to do, and whether she could be cannily propitiated. He reached the station before her, and wired a very intelligent person who, he knew, conducted delicate inquiries, and had been very successful in a divorce case, public two years before. Even as he dispatched this message there was a whistling and a ringing, and the sound of a coming train, and Ned Severne ran to meet Rhoda Gale with a heart palpitating a little, and a face beaming greatly to order. He looked for her in the first-class carriages, but she was in the second, and saw him. He did not see her till she stepped out on the platform.
Then he made toward her. He took off his hat, and said, with respectful zeal, "If you will tell me what luggage you have, the groom shall get it out."Miss Gale's eyes wandered over him loftily. "I have only a box and a bag, sir, both marked 'R. G.' ""Joe," said he--for he had already made friends with all the servants, and won their hearts--"box and bag marked 'R. G.' Miss Gale, you had better take your seat in the carriage."Miss Gale gave a little supercilious nod, and he showed her obsequiously into the carriage. She laid her head back, and contemplated vacancy ahead in a manner anything but encouraging to this new admirer Fate had sent her. He turned away, a little discomfited, and when the luggage was brought up, he had the bag placed inside, and the box in a sort of boot, and then jumped in and seated himself inside. "Home," said he to the coachman, and off they went. When he came in she started with well-feigned surprise, and stared at him.
"Oh," said she, "I have met you before. Why, it is Mr. Severne. Excuse me taking you for one of the servants. Some people have short memories, you know."This deliberate affront was duly felt, but parried with a master-hand.
"Why, I _am_ one of the servants," said he; "only I am not Vizard's. I'm yours.""In-deed!"
"If you will let me."
"I am too poor to have fine servants."
"Say too haughty. You are not too poor, for I shan't cost you anything but a gracious word now and then.""Unfortunately I don't deal in gracious words, only true ones.""I see that."
"Then suppose you imitate me, and tell me why you came to meet me?"This question came from her with sudden celerity, like lightning out of a cloud, and she bent her eyes on him with that prodigious keenness she could throw into those steel gray orbs, when her mind put on its full power of observation.
Severne colored a little, and hesitated.
"Come now," said this keen witch, "don't wait to make up a reason. Tell the truth for once--quick!--quick!--why did _you_ come to meet _me?"_"I didn't come to be bullied," replied supple Severne, affecting sullenness.
"You didn't!" cried the other, acting vast surprise. "Then what _did_ you come for?""I don't know; and I wish I hadn't come.""That I believe." Rhoda shot this in like an arrow.
"But," continued Severne, "if I hadn't, nobody would; for it is Vizard's justicing day, and the ladies are too taken up with a lord to come and meet such vulgar trifles as genius and learning and sci--""Come, come!" said Rhoda, contemptuously; "you care as little about science and learning and genius as I possess them. You won't tell me?
Well, I shall find you out." Then, after a pause, "Who is this lord?""Lord Uxmoor."
"What kind of a lord is he?"
"A very bushy lord."
"Bushy?--oh, bearded like the pard! Now tell me," said she, "is he cutting you out with Miss Vizard?""You shall judge for yourself. Please spare me on that one topic--if you ever spared anybody in your life.""Oh, dear me!" said Rhoda, coolly. "I'm not so very cruel. I'm only a little vindictive and cat-like. If people offend me, I like to play with them a bit, and amuse myself, and then kill them--kill them--kill them;that is all."
This pretty little revelation of character was accompanied with a cruel smile that showed a long row of dazzling white teeth. They seemed capable of killing anything from a liar up to a hickory-nut.