Sir George Tressady — Volume II

Humphry Ward

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• Publié par: allu
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 52
• Langue: English

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Tressady, Vol. II, by Mrs. Humphry Ward
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Title: Sir George Tressady, Vol. IIAuthor: Mrs. Humphry Ward
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http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext05/8sgt110.zipSIR GEORGE
TRESSADY, VOLUME II
IN TWO VOLUMES
BY
MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
AUTHOR OF "MARCELLA," "THE HISTORY OF
DAVID GRIEVE," "ROBERT ELSMERE," ETC.VOLUME II.PART II
CHAPTER XIII
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 inpreparation 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.
"I should be very well if it weren't for this heat," she
said pettishly. "Do put that photograph down,
George!—you do fidget so! Haven't you got any
news for me—anything to amuse me? Oh! those
horrid papers!—I see. Well! they'll wait a little. By
the way, the 'Morning Post' says that young
scamp, Lord Ancoats, has gone abroad. I suppose
that girl was bought off."
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."
"Oh! you were there?"—Lady Tressady's voice was
sharp again. "Well, of course. Letty went as your
wife, and you're a member of Parliament. Lady
Ardagh knows me quite well—but I don't count
now; she used to be glad enough to ask me."
"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.