XXIX. A DISSEMBLER
To cursory view, John Loveday seemed to accomplish this with amazing
ease. Whenever he came from barracks to Overcombe, which was once
or twice a week, he related news of all sorts to her and Bob with
infinite zest, and made the time as happy a one as had ever been
known at the mill, save for himself alone. He said nothing of
Festus, except so far as to inform Anne that he had expected to see
him and been disappointed. On the evening after the King's arrival
at his seaside residence John appeared again, staying to supper and
describing the royal entry, the many tasteful illuminations and
transparencies which had been exhibited, the quantities of tallow
candles burnt for that purpose, and the swarms of aristocracy who
had followed the King thither.
When supper was over Bob went outside the house to shut the
shutters, which had, as was often the case, been left open some time
after lights were kindled within. John still sat at the table when
his brother approached the window, though the others had risen and
retired. Bob was struck by seeing through the pane how John's face
had changed. Throughout the supper-time he had been talking to Anne
in the gay tone habitual with him now, which gave greater
strangeness to the gloom of his present appearance. He remained in
thought for a moment, took a letter from his breast-pocket, opened
it, and, with a tender smile at his weakness, kissed the writing
before restoring it to its place. The letter was one that Anne had
written to him at Exonbury.
Bob stood perplexed; and then a suspicion crossed his mind that
John, from brotherly goodness, might be feigning a satisfaction with
recent events which he did not feel. Bob now made a noise with the
shutters, at which the trumpet-major rose and went out, Bob at once
following him.
'Jack,' said the sailor ingenuously, 'I'm terribly sorry that I've
done wrong.'
'How?' asked his brother.
'In courting our little Anne. Well, you see, John, she was in the
same house with me, and somehow or other I made myself her beau.
But I have been thinking that perhaps you had the first claim on
her, and if so, Jack, I'll make way for 'ee. I--I don't care for
her much, you know--not so very much, and can give her up very well.
It is nothing serious between us at all. Yes, John, you try to get
her; I can look elsewhere.' Bob never knew how much he loved Anne
till he found himself making this speech of renunciation.
'O Bob, you are mistaken!' said the trumpet-major, who was not
deceived. 'When I first saw her I admired her, and I admire her
now, and like her. I like her so well that I shall be glad to see
you marry her.'
'But,' replied Bob, with hesitation, 'I thought I saw you looking
very sad, as if you were in love; I saw you take out a letter, in
short. That's what it was disturbed me and made me come to you.'
'O, I see your mistake!' said John, laughing forcedly.
At this minute Mrs. Loveday and the miller, who were taking a
twilight walk in the garden, strolled round near to where the
brothers stood. She talked volubly on events in Budmouth, as most
people did at this time. 'And they tell me that the theatre has
been painted up afresh,' she was saying, 'and that the actors have
come for the season, with the most lovely actresses that ever were
seen.'
When they had passed by John continued, 'I AM in love, Bob; but--not
with Anne.'
'Ah! who is it then?' said the mate hopefully.
'One of the actresses at the theatre,' John replied, with a
concoctive look at the vanishing forms of Mr. and Mrs. Loveday.
'She is a very lovely woman, you know. But we won't say anything
more about it--it dashes a man so.'
'O, one of the actresses!' said Bob, with open mouth.
'But don't you say anything about it!' continued the trumpet-major
heartily. 'I don't want it known.'
'No, no--I won't, of course. May I not know her name?'
'No, not now, Bob. I cannot tell 'ee,' John answered, and with
truth, for Loveday did not know the name of any actress in the
world.
When his brother had gone, Captain Bob hastened off in a state of
great animation to Anne, whom he found on the top of a neighbouring
hillock which the daylight had scarcely as yet deserted.
'You have been a long time coming, sir,' said she, in sprightly
tones of reproach.
'Yes, dearest; and you'll be glad to hear why. I've found out the
whole mystery--yes--why he's queer, and everything.'
Anne looked startled.
'He's up to the gunnel in love! We must try to help him on in it,
or I fear he'll go melancholy-mad like.'
'We help him?' she asked faintly.
'He's lost his heart to one of the play-actresses at Budmouth, and I
think she slights him.'
'O, I am so glad!' she exclaimed.
'Glad that his venture don't prosper?'
'O no; glad he's so sensible. How long is it since that alarm of
the French?'
'Six weeks, honey. Why do you ask?'
'Men can forget in six weeks, can't they, Bob?'
The impression that John had really kissed her still remained.
'Well, some men might,' observed Bob judicially. '_I_ couldn't.
Perhaps John might. I couldn't forget YOU in twenty times as long.
Do you know, Anne, I half thought it was you John cared about; and
it was a weight off my heart when he said he didn't.'
'Did he say he didn't?'
'Yes. He assured me himself that the only person in the hold of his
heart was this lovely play-actress, and nobody else.'
'How I should like to see her!'
'Yes. So should I.'
'I would rather it had been one of our own neighbours' girls, whose
birth and breeding we know of; but still, if that is his taste, I
hope it will end well for him. How very quick he has been! I
certainly wish we could see her.'
'I don't know so much as her name. He is very close, and wouldn't
tell a thing about her.'
'Couldn't we get him to go to the theatre with us? and then we could
watch him, and easily find out the right one. Then we would learn
if she is a good young woman; and if she is, could we not ask her
here, and so make it smoother for him? He has been very gay lately;
that means budding love: and sometimes between his gaieties he has
had melancholy moments; that means there's difficulty.'
Bob thought her plan a good one, and resolved to put it in practice
on the first available evening. Anne was very curious as to whether
John did really cherish a new passion, the story having quite
surprised her. Possibly it was true; six weeks had passed since
John had shown a single symptom of the old attachment, and what
could not that space of time effect in the heart of a soldier whose
very profession it was to leave girls behind him?
After this John Loveday did not come to see them for nearly a month,
a neglect which was set down by Bob as an additional proof that his
brother's affections were no longer exclusively centred in his old
home. When at last he did arrive, and the theatre-going was
mentioned to him, the flush of consciousness which Anne expected to
see upon his face was unaccountably absent.
'Yes, Bob; I should very well like to go to the theatre,' he replied
heartily. 'Who is going besides?'
'Only Anne,' Bob told him, and then it seemed to occur to the
trumpet-major that something had been expected of him. He rose and
said privately to Bob with some confusion, 'O yes, of course we'll
go. As I am connected with one of the--in short I can get you in
for nothing, you know. At least let me manage everything.'
'Yes, yes. I wonder you didn't propose to take us before, Jack, and
let us have a good look at her.'
'I ought to have. You shall go on a King's night. You won't want
me to point her out, Bob; I have my reasons at present for asking
it?'
'We'll be content with guessing,' said his brother.
When the gallant John was gone, Anne observed, 'Bob, how he is
changed! I watched him. He showed no feeling, even when you burst
upon him suddenly with the subject nearest his heart.'
'It must be because his suit don't fay,' said Captain Bob.
