He reddened with anger. "Mrs. Whiteoak, how dare you!" he exclaimed, taking off his hat and throwing it on the floor of the porch.
She had known he had a temper but such an exhibition of it filled her with amusement. She clung to the door-handle, laughing at him.
"How dare you!" he repeated. "I have given my permission for you to be up in your own room in two days and here you are in the porch! And alone! Let me tell you, you may bring on trouble that will keep you in bed for weeks".
"I’m as right as rain", she said, using the new slang of the period.
He looked down at his hat as though he had a mind to kick it. Then he said, still looking at it:
"If you feel so capable of looking after yourself you may do so at your next confinement".
"There is not going to be another", she answered loftily.
He gave an ironic smile. "You tell me that-a passionate woman like you!" Now his eyes were on her.
"I have a husband who considers my health", she returned, still more loftily.
"Does he give you permission to ignore my orders?"
"I do what I like!"
"Well, you shall go back to bed now".
"I will not".
"You shall!"
"I defy you!"
He caught her by the arms and turned her round. His grip was like iron. For a moment she felt helpless, then she threw her weight against his shoulder and stretching up her hand took a handful of his rather long, wiry hair.
"Will you loose me!" she panted.
He gave a little excited laugh. With a sharp intake of breath he bent his head and kissed her lips.
Both stood motionless a space. They heard a light step on the newly spread gravel of the drive. Dr. Ramsay picked up his hat and, still more flushed, turned to face Daisy Vaughan. She was astonished by the sight of Adeline.
"Why, Mrs. Whiteoak-you up!" she cried. "How lovely!"
"Yes, isn’t it?"
"And how well you look! You have an enchanting colour. Hasn’t she, Dr. Ramsay?" She gave him an intent look.
"Quite", he returned stiffly.
There was a somewhat embarrassed silence but it was soon broken by Daisy’s exclaiming:
"What do you suppose has happened? Kate Busby has eloped with Mr. Brent! Her father is in a towering rage and says he will never forgive her. Do you think he ever will, Dr. Ramsay?"
"I haven’t the faintest idea".
"I think an elopement is so romantic. Nothing would hinder me from marrying the man I loved. I would fly with him to the ends of the earth. Everyone seems to think Mr. Brent is a quite good match, even though his means are uncertain. What do you think of such infatuation, Dr. Ramsay? I’ll wager you disapprove of it".
"I’m in no position to judge anyone’s conduct", he returned.
Adeline’s eyes were laughing at him. She leant against the stone wall of the porch, folding her arms. "Both parties are lucky", she said. "They’ll make a nice pair".
"I’m so glad you think so", said Daisy. "But I wish there had been a wedding. Even though I shall never be a bride I should love to be a bridesmaid".
"You’ll be a bride, without doubt", said Adeline.
A faint cry came from her bedroom. She turned her eyes in that direction with something of the expression of a fine Persian cat, aloof yet attentive to the cry of its young.
"Oh, the darling baby!" cried Daisy, darting down the hall and throwing herself on her knees by the side of the bed. "Oh, you darling, angelic little Ernest!" She clasped him to her breast. But she had nothing he wanted. He continued to cry.
He thrived in the weeks that followed and continued to be an object of great interest to all about, for he had set the seal of birth on the new house. Nicholas found himself of less consequence.
Frequently Gussie was set to minding Nicholas, amusing him while the baby slept. Though so young, she had a capable way with her and often he would do her bidding. But, when he set his will against hers, she had no power to control him. He would shout and scream in her face. He would pull her curls. He now weighed more than she and would push her aside to grasp a toy or reach his mother’s knee. Gussie loved little Ernest. He was sweeter than her best doll. But she did not love Nicholas. There were times when she liked him very much but there were other times when she would have liked to get rid of him.
On a warm bright morning in May the nurse had set Nicholas in his perambulator on the grass. It was near the ravine where passing workmen or the flight of returning birds might amuse him. The birds came in great numbers, in clouds, filling the air with their song. Always there was some living thing to watch at Jalna.
A farm-hand led past a fine team of Percheron horses, just bought by Philip. They trotted by in gentleness and strength, moving obediently to the slight drawing of the rein. Nicholas ceased to play with his woolly lamb and leant forward to watch them as though appraisingly; his brilliant dark eyes looked out from under the frill of his pale-blue silk bonnet. The great glossy flanks of the Percherons jogged up and down, the bright metal trimmings of the harness jingled. Nicholas saw how their cream-coloured tails were caught in a knot with red ribbons. He turned over his lamb to see if its tail was the same, and finding it had nothing more than a little scut of wool, he pushed out his under lip in disapproval. Gussie, sitting on a little stool by his side, thought he was about to cry. She joggled the perambulator up and down with an experienced hand.
He turned his gaze somewhat resentfully on her. He did not want to be joggled. He wanted to get out and walk. He tried to unfasten the strap which held him.
"No, no", said Gussie. "Naughty".
She rose and held his two hands in hers. This infuriated him. He glared at her and struggled. She thought she would push the pram about to quiet him. The ground was level and smooth here so she managed very well. It was a great pleasure to her to push the pram, though their nurse had strictly forbidden it.
But Nicholas was thoroughly disgruntled. He could not forget how she had held his hands. He hurled his lamb overboard. He lay down on his back and kicked. With a great deal of effort she moved the pram to where the resurrected piano stood in its case at the edge of the ravine.
"Nice piano", she said. "Gussie will play on it". Then she added, "But not Nicholas".
He could not understand that there was a piano in the big box but he did understand that he was going to be denied something she was to have. He turned over and struggled to his knees, still encircled by the restraining strap. She did not see what he had done, for her head was bent in herculean efforts. The ground had become rougher.
Nicholas leant over the back of the pram and gripped Gussie’s hat by the crown. He dragged it forward over her eyes, badly pulling her hair that was caught in the elastic. She gave a cry of pain and rage but continued to push the pram with all her might.