CHAPTER XXII. THE LEGATEES
Each day Jasper came to inquire of his sisters if they had news
from Wattleborough or from Marian Yule. He exhibited no
impatience, spoke of the matter in a disinterested tone; still, he came daily.
One afternoon he found Dora working alone. Maud, he was told, had
gone to lunch at Mrs Lane's.
'So soon again? She's getting very thick with those people. And
why don't they ask you?'
'Maud has told them that I don't care to go out.'
'It's all very well, but she mustn't neglect her work. Did she
write anything last night or this morning?'
Dora bit the end of her pen and shook her head.
'Why not?'
'The invitation came about five o'clock, and it seemed to
unsettle her.'
'Precisely. That's what I'm afraid of. She isn't the kind of girl
to stick at work if people begin to send her invitations. But I
tell you what it is, you must talk seriously to her; she has to
get her living, you know. Mrs Lane and her set are not likely to
be much use, that's the worst of it; they'll merely waste her
time, and make her discontented.'
His sister executed an elaborate bit of cross-hatching on some
waste paper. Her lips were drawn together, and her brows
wrinkled. At length she broke the silence by saying:
'Marian hasn't been yet.'
Jasper seemed to pay no attention; she looked up at him, and saw
that he was in thought.
'Did you go to those people last night?' she inquired.
'Yes. By-the-bye, Miss Rupert was there.'
He spoke as if the name would be familiar to his hearer, but Dora
seemed at a loss.
'Who is Miss Rupert?'
'Didn't I tell you about her? I thought I did. Oh, I met her
first of all at Barlow's, just after we got back from the
seaside. Rather an interesting girl. She's a daughter of Manton
Rupert, the advertising agent. I want to get invited to their
house; useful people, you know.'
'But is an advertising agent a gentleman?'
Jasper laughed.
'Do you think of him as a bill-poster? At all events he is
enormously wealthy, and has a magnificent house at Chislehurst. The girl goes about with her stepmother. I call her a girl, but she must be nearly thirty, and Mrs Rupert looks only two or three years older. I had quite a long talk with her—Miss Rupert, I mean—last night. She told me she was going to stay next week with the Barlows, so I shall have a run out to Wimbledon one afternoon.'
Dora looked at him inquiringly.
'Just to see Miss Rupert?' she asked, meeting his eyes.
'To be sure. Why not?'
'Oh!' ejaculated his sister, as if the question did not concern
her.
'She isn't exactly good-looking,' pursued Jasper, meditatively, with a quick glance at the listener, 'but fairly intellectual. Plays very well, and has a nice contralto voice; she sang that new thing of Tosti's—what do you call it? I thought her rather masculine when I first saw her, but the impression wears off when one knows her better. She rather takes to me, I fancy.'
'But—' began Dora, after a minute's silence.
'But what?' inquired her brother with an air of interest.
'I don't quite understand you.'
'In general, or with reference to some particular?'
'What right have you to go to places just to see this Miss
Rupert?'
'What right?' He laughed. 'I am a young man with my way to make. I can't afford to lose any opportunity. If Miss Rupert is so good as to take an interest in me, I have no objection. She's old enough to make friends for herself.'
'Oh, then you consider her simply a friend?'
'I shall see how things go on.'
'But, pray, do you consider yourself perfectly free?' asked Dora, with some indignation.
'Why shouldn't I?'
'Then I think you have been behaving very strangely.'
Jasper saw that she was in earnest. He stroked the back of his
head and smiled at the wall.