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AYALA’S ANGEL
But, after all, what is a dress, let it be ever so pretty? The
Angel of Light would not care for her dress, let her wear what
she might. Were he to seek her because of her dress, he would
not be the Angel of Light of whom she had dreamed. It was
not by any dress that she could prevail over him. She did rejoice because of her little triumph; — but she knew that she rejoiced because she was not an Angel of Light herself. Her only
chance lay in this, that the angels of yore did come down from
heaven to ask for love and worship from the daughters of men.
As she went to bed, she determined that she would still be
true to her dream. Not because folk admired a new frock would
she be ready to give herself to a man who was only a man, —
a man of the earth really; who had about him no more than
a few of the real attributes of an Angel of Light.
CHAPTER L
GOBBLEGOOSE WOOD ON
SUNDAY
The next two days were not quite so triumphant to Ayala
as had been the evening of her arrival. There was hunting on
both of those days, the gentlemen having gone on the Friday
away out of Sir Harry’s country to the Brake hounds. Ayala
and the Colonel had arrived on the Thursday. Ayala had not
expected to be asked to hunt again, — had not even thought
about it. It had been arranged before on Nina’s account, and
Nina now was not to hunt any more. Lord George did not
altogether approve of it, and Nina was quite in accord with
Lord George, — though she had held up her whip and shaken
it in triumph when she jumped over the Cranbury Brook. And
the horse which Alaya had ridden was no longer in the stables.
“My dear, I am so sorry; but I’m afraid we can’t mount you,”
Lady Albury said. In answer to this Ayala declared that she
had not thought of it for a moment. But yet the days seemed to
be dull with her. Lady Rufford was, — well, — perhaps a little
patronising to her, and patronage such as that was not at all to
Ayala’s taste. “Lady Albury seems to be quite a kind friend to
you,” Lady Rufford said. Nothing could be more true. The idea
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AYALA’S ANGEL
implied was true also, — the idea that such a one as Ayala was
much in luck’s way to find such a friend as Lady Albury. It was
true no doubt; but, nevertheless, it was ungracious, and had to
be resented. “A very kind friend, indeed. Some people only
make friends of those who are as grand as themselves.”
“I am sure we should be very glad to see you at Rufford if
you remain long in the country,” said Lady Rufford, a little
time afterwards. But even in this there was not a touch of that
cordiality which might have won Ayala’s heart. “I am not at
all likely to stay,” said Ayala. “I live with my uncle and aunt at
Notting Hill, and I very rarely go away from home.” Lady
Rufford, however, did not quite understand it. It had been
whispered to her that morning that Ayala was certainly going to marry Colonel Stubbs; and, if so, why should she not
come to Rufford?
On that day, the Friday, she was taken out to dinner by
Captain Glomax. “I remember quite as if it were yesterday,”
said the Captain. “It was the day we rode the Cranbury Brook.”
Ayala looked up into his face, also remembering everything
as well as it were yesterday. “Mr. Twentyman rode over it,” she
said, “and Colonel Stubbs rode into it.”
“Oh, yes; Stubbs got a ducking; so he did.” The Captain had
not got a ducking, but then he had gone round by the road.
“It was a good run that.”
“I thought so.”
“We haven’t been lucky since Sir Harry has had the hounds
somehow. There doesn’t seem to be the dash about ‘em there
used to be when I was here. I had them before Sir Harry, you
know.” All this was nearly in a whisper.
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“Were you Master?” asked Ayala, with a tone of surprise
which was not altogether pleasing to the Captain.
“Indeed I was, but the fag of it was too great, and the thanks
too small, so I gave it up. They used to get four days a week
out of me.” During the two years that the Captain had had
the hounds, there had been, no doubt, two or three weeks in
which he had hunted four days.
Ayala liked hunting, but she did not care much for Captain
Glomax, who, having seen her once or twice on horseback,
would talk to her about nothing else. A little away on the other side of the table Nina was sitting next to Colonel Stubbs,
and she could hear their voices and almost their words. Nina
and Jonathan were first cousins, and, of course, could be happy together without giving her any cause for jealousy; — but
she almost envied Nina. Yet she had hoped that it might not
fall to her lot to be taken out again that evening by the Colonel. Hitherto she had not even spoken to him during the day.
They had started to the meet very early, and the gentlemen
had almost finished their breakfast before she had come down.
If there had been any fault it was her fault, but yet she almost
felt that there was something of a disruption between them.
It was so evident to her that he was perfectly happy whilst he
was talking to Nina.
After dinner it seemed to be very late before the men came
into the drawing-room, and then they were still engaged upon
that weary talk about hunting, till Lady Rufford, in order to
put a stop to it, offered to sing. “I always do,” she said, “if Rufford ventures to name a fox in the drawing-room after din-
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AYALA’S ANGEL
ner.” She did sing, and Ayala thought that the singing was
more weary than the talk about hunting.
While this was going on, the Colonel had got himself
shut up in a corner of the room. Lady Albury had first taken
him there, and afterwards he had been hemmed in when Lady
Rufford sat down to the piano. Ayala had hardly ventured
even to glance at him, but yet she knew all that he did, and
heard almost every word that he spoke. The words were not
many, but still when he did speak his voice was cheerful. Nina
now and again had run up to him, and Lady Rufford had asked
him some questions about the music. But why didn’t he come
out and speak to her? thought Ayala. Though all that nonsense
about love was over, still he ought not to have allowed a day to
pass at Stalham without speaking to her. He was the oldest friend there in that house except Nina. It was indeed no
more than nine months since she had first seen him, but still
it seemed to her that he was an old friend. She did feel, as she
endeavoured to answer the questions that Lord Rufford was
asking her, that Jonathan Stubbs was treating her unkindly.
Then came the moment in which Lady Albury marshalled
her guests out of the room towards their chambers. “Have
you found yourself dull without the hunting?” the Colonel
said to Ayala.
“Oh dear no; I must have a dull time if I do, seeing that
I have only hunted three days in my life.” There was something in the tone of her voice which, as she herself was aware,
almost expressed dissatisfaction. And yet not for worlds would
she have shown herself to be dissatisfied with him, could she
have helped it.
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“I thought that perhaps you might have regretted the little
pony,” he said.
“Because a thing has been very pleasant, it should not be
regretted because it cannot be had always.”
“To me a thing may become so pleasant, that unless I can
have it always my life must be one long regret.”
“The pony is not quite like that,” said Ayala, smiling, as she
followed the other ladies out of the room.
On the next morning the meet was nearer, and some of
the ladies were taken there in an open carriage. Lady Rufford
went, and Mrs. Gosling, and Nina and Ayala. “Of course there
is a place for you,” Lady Albury had said to her. “Had I wanted to go I would have made Sir Harry send the drag; but I’ve
got to stop at home and see that the buttered toast is ready by
the time the gentlemen all come back.” The morning was almost warm, so that the sportsmen were saying evil things of
violets and primroses, as is the wont of sportsmen on such occasions, and at the meet the ladies got out of the carriage and
walked about among the hounds, making civil speeches to old
Tony. “No, my lady,” said Tony, “I don’t like these sunshiny
mornings at all; there ain’t no kind of scent, and I goes riding
about these big woods, up and down, till my shirt is as wet on
my back with the sweat as though I’d been pulled through
the river.” Then Lady Rufford walked away and did not ask
Tony any more questions.
Ayala was patting one of the hounds when the Colonel,
who had given his horse to a groom, came and joined her.
“If you don’t regret that pony,” said he, “somebody else does.”
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AYALA’S ANGEL
“I do regret him in one way, of course. I did like it very
much; but I don’t think it nice, when much has been done for
me, to say that I want to have more done.”
“Of course I knew what you meant.”
“Perhaps you would go and tell Sir Harry, and then he
would think me very ungrateful.”
“Ayala,” he said, “I will never say anything of you that
will make anybody think evil of you. But, between ourselves,
as Sir Harry is not here, I suppose I may confess that I regret
the pony.”
“I should like it, of course,” whispered Ayala.
“And so should I, — so much! I suppose all these men
here would think me an ass if they knew how little I care
about the day’s work, — whether we find, or whether we run,
or whether we kill, — just because the pony is not here. If
the pony were here I should have that feeling of expectation of
joy, which is so common to girls when some much-thoughtof ball or promised pleasure is just before them.” Then Tony
went off with his hounds, and Jonathan, mounting his horse,
followed with the ruck.
Ayala knew very well what the pony meant, as spoken of by
the Colonel. When he declared that he regretted the pony, it
was because the pony might have carried herself. He had meant
her to understand that the much-thought-of ball or promised
pleasure would have been the delight of again riding with herself. And then he had again called her Ayala. She could remember well every occasion on which he had addressed her by her
Christian name. It had been but seldom. Once, however, it had
occurred in the full flow of their early intimacy, before that
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
love-making had been begun. It had struck her as being almost
wrong, but still as very pleasant. If it might be made right by
some feeling of brotherly friendship, how pleasant would it
be! And now she would like it again, if only it might be taken
as a sign of friendship rather than of love. It never occurred to
her to be angry as she would have been angry with any other
man. How she would have looked at Captain Batsby had he
dared to call her Ayala! Colonel Stubbs should call her Ayala
as long as he pleased, — if it were done only in friendship.
After that they were driven about for a while, seeing what
Tony did with the hounds, as tidings came to them now and
again that one fox had broken this way and another had gone
the other. But Ayala, through it all, could not interest herself
about the foxes. She was thinking only of Jonathan Stubbs.
She knew that she was pleased because he had spoken to her,
and had said kind, pleasant words to her. She knew that she
had been displeased while he had sat apart from her, talking to
others. But yet she could not explain to herself why she had
been either pleased or displeased. She feared that there was
more than friendship, — than mere friendship, in that declaration of his that he did in truth regret the pony. His voice had
been, oh, so sweet as he had said it! Something told her that
men do not speak in mere friendship after that fashion. Not
even in the softness of friendship between a man and a woman
will the man’s voice become as musical as that! Young as she
was, child as she was, there was an instinct in her breast which
declared to her that it was so. But then, if it were so, was not
everything again wrong with her? If it were so, then must that
condition of things be coming back which it had been, and
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AYALA’S ANGEL
still was her firm resolve to avoid. And yet, as the carriage was
being driven about, and as the frequent exclamations came
that the fox had traversed this way or that, her pride was gratified and she was happy.
“What was Colonel Stubbs saying to you?” asked Nina,
when they were at home at the house after lunch.
“He was talking about the dear pony which I used to ride.”
“About nothing else?”
“No; — about nothing else.” This Ayala said with a short,
dry manner of utterance which she would assume when she
was determined not to have a subject carried on.
“Ayala, why do you not tell me everything? I told you everything as soon as it happened.”
“Nothing has happened.”
“I know he asked you,” said Nina.
“And I answered him.”
“Is that to be everything?”
“Yes; — that is to be everything,” said Ayala, with a short,
dry manner of utterance. It was so plain, that even Nina could
not pursue the subject.
There was nothing done on that day in the way of sport.
Glomax thought that Tony had been idle, and had made a holiday of the day from the first. But Sir Harry declared that there
had not been a yard of scent. The buttered toast, however, was
eaten, and the regular sporting conversation was carried on.
Ayala, however, was not there to hear it. Ayala was in her own
room dreaming.
She was taken in to dinner by a curate in the neighbourhood, — to whom she endeavoured to make herself very pleas-
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
ant, while the Colonel sat at her other side. The curate had
a good deal to say as to lawn tennis. If the weather remained as
it was, it was thought that they could all play lawn tennis on
the Tuesday, — when there would be no hunting. The curate was a pleasant young fellow, and Ayala devoted herself to
him and to their joint hopes for next Tuesday. Colonel Stubbs
never once attempted to interfere with the curate’s opportunity. There was Lady Rufford on the other side of him, and to
Lady Rufford he said all that he did say during dinner. At one
period of the repast she was more than generally lively, because she felt herself called upon to warn her husband that
an attack of the gout was imminent, and would be certainly
produced instantaneously if he could not deny himself the delight of a certain diet which was going the round of the table.
His lordship smiled and denied himself, — thinking, as he
did so, whether another wife, plus the gout, would or would
not have been better for him. All this either amused Colonel
Stubbs so sufficiently, or else made him so thoughtful, that he
made no attempt to interfere with the curate. In the evening
there was again music, — which resulted in a declaration made
upstairs by Sir Harry to his wife that that wife of Rufford’s was
a confounded bore. “We all knew that, my dear, as soon as he
married her,” said Lady Albury.
“Why did he marry a bore?”
“Because he wanted a wife to look after himself, and not to
amuse his friends. The wonder used to be that he had done
so well.”
Not a word had there been, — not a word, since that
sound of “Ayala” had fallen upon her ears. No; — he was not
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