Eveline

Chapter 4

I had been at home three weeks. Lady L kept to her own apartment upstairs. I saw very little of her, except only when I paid my dutiful morning visit. Sunday is not a lively or convivial day in London. Not in a general way. I lunched alone on this Sunday. Sir Edward was to return in a week's time. I was thinking his advent would be a change for me and a relief. I sat before my empty plate.

"Will you take some more sweetbread, miss?"

"No, thank you, John. You may take it away, and bring me some seed cake. Who is Lady L entertaining upstairs, John?"

"The Reverend Mr. Doubletree, miss. He is the Honorable and Reverend Trestleton-Doubletree. He belongs to the church they call the Sepulchre, miss, round in the square.

"Was it he who arrived an hour and half ago? I looked out and thought I saw our own carriage. Could that be, John?"

"Yes, miss, my lady always sends it after the service on Sunday mornings to bring him round from the Sepulchre."

"He does not look as if he required much bringing round; he does not strike me in any way as resembling a ghost."

"Oh, no, miss, he's in very good condition. He knows how to keep it up too; I never knew such a particular gent. He can't eat any soup but real turtle, miss-except on Fridays when he says he tries to digest mock. He must have his grouse with a nice bit of red in the breast. He says there's only one cook in London who can do quail proper, miss, and that's ours. Yes, he's a funny gentleman for a parson. He's so particular about his stomach-says common food doesn't agree with him. Can't digest it, miss-comical stomach, very. He's funny in other ways too, miss, when he likes."

"How so, John?"

"Why, one day he caught my lady's own maid, Sippett, on the stairs, miss, and chucked her under the chin, quite familiar-like."

"Dear me, John! And what did Sippett do?"

"Oh, she just did nothing, miss, till he was gone. Then she up and told my lady. Not that she got much by that, for my lady told her not to mind. That it was only his kindness; for he was like a good pastor to his flock, and he considered her like one of his lambs."

"What did she say to that, John?"

"Oh, she kept her mouth shut, as was her duty, miss, but when she came downstairs, she let out. She said that if he tried on any more of his pastoral tricks, he would find she was no lamb, but a ravenin' wolf, miss-there's the drawing-room bell, miss?"

"The Honorable and Reverend Trestleton-Doubletree would like to know, miss, if you will see him in the drawing room."

"Say I will follow you immediately, John."

I took just one look in the glass. I tripped lightly upstairs. John opened the door. The reverend gentleman came forward with an air of ineffable tenderness and condescension. I took him in at a glance. I mistrusted those roving dark eyes; that anxious smile on the broad sensual lips of a man about forty years of age.

"So glad, my dear Miss Eveline, to make your acquaintance. They told me you were at home; your lady mother has commissioned me, my dear girl!"

My baptismal name! My dear girl! What did he take me for? I cut him short.

"Have you lunched? I trust they have taken care of you? I fear Lady L is too great an invalid to receive you properly."

"Oh, yes, a thousand thanks, we lunched together. Had I known-"

"Oh, thank you, I took my little meal alone. It is a very simple one-a cutlet, or a sweetbread-a slice of seed cake-that usually comprises all I care for alone."

"Cotelletes a la Nesselrode-riz de veau a la sauce blanche are things not to be lightly denied; or perhaps you prefer then a la sauce financiere?"

"How did you find Lady L today?"

"She is suffering. She confided to me her wish that we should meet, that we should confer-ahem, that I should endeavor to impress upon you the advantages of attending divine service at our church of St. Sepulchre at least once on the Sunday."

"My mother is very considerate towards me. She has never yet mentioned the subject to me herself."

"Oh! Possibly not-possibly not. Oh, no-no-quite likely! She is so nervous, you know, such an invalid-still, if you will allow me to suggest-"

He began to see it might be dangerous to persist.

"It is a subject on which I have formed my own judgment."

"What? Already? So young too! Well, well; we will not pursue the subject further now. The young nowadays desire a large degree of latitude-a very large degree of latitude. I am always disposed to grant it to them. I approve of freedom of thought; of individual responsibility. There are those who in their weakness require spiritual guidance. You are not one of those, my dear-my dear young friend. But you are too young, and permit me, too beautiful-far too superbly beautiful to altogether emerge from the cocoon of childhood into the full-blown perfection of womanhood without advice, without some sort of tuition. The world is deceitful-very much so."

I listened with patient wonder. I saw at once that my reverend visitor had lunched perhaps not wisely, but too well. As he spoke, he drew his chair towards mine quite confidentially. His breath was redolent of wine. He leered into my face with an expression that reminded me of my old friend the teapot.

"But you forget that before I can emerge as a moth to flutter round the candles of society, I must have been a grub?"

"A grub-but what a grub! And now a butterfly. Ah! Ah?"

The whole manner of the man had undergone a change. He was no longer the reverend incumbent of St. Sepulchre endeavoring in his choicest inflection of pulpit eloquence to win a lamb to his fold. He was the man of the world-the would-be lover of one he took for an inexperienced schoolgirl. One who in her ignorance would be flattered by the gross and too palpable insinuations of his honeyed words.

"A butterfly-ah! Such a beautiful, beautiful butterfly, whose golden wings, softly perfumed with the choicest scents of Araby, waft their sweet fragrance to the inmost follicles of my manly heart?"

He spoke in a purring whisper. I felt that his eyes were fixed upon my face. My own gaze rested on the pattern of the carpet. I waited for what was to come next. He moved nearer. His arm passed behind me. It dropped from the back of the chair in a half unconscious way upon my dress.

"You will not deny me the delight and the privilege of being your friend-your guide-your protector in this mad society of London?"

I made him no reply. My foot beat a warning tattoo, and my breath came in an angry flutter from my lungs.

He misinterpreted my agitation. He altogether delighted in my emotion. He counted already on his easy victory. He drew his arm closely round my waist. He advanced his thick and sensual lips. He actually imprinted a kiss upon my right cheek.

"Thus, my dear child, do we seal our compact?"

I snatched myself away. The blood of my ancient race rushed furiously though every vein.

"Then take that from the butterfly!"

A sound cracked like the sharp report of a pistol. A moment's silence. The reverend incumbent of the Sepulchre had risen from his seat with a savage glare in his dark eyes. His hand covered a very distinct outline of my palm upon his left cheek. A study in red and white.

The door opened. It was John.

"Did you ring, miss?"

"No-yes, John. Show this-this gentleman to the front door."

I ran upstairs. I entered my lady's room. I found her in her easy chair. She was apparently asleep or unconscious. Sippett was agitating a Japanese fan before her flushed face. I took in the situation at a glance. On the table were the remains of the luncheon; two empty champagne bottles among them.

"Quick, Sippett, open her stays-give her air."

I rushed to the window. I threw it open. As I passed behind the heavy curtain to do so, I kicked over another empty champagne bottle. A second, half full, stood beside it. Two or three empty soda-water bottles rolled upon the floor.

Sippett had opened the front of Lady L 's morning wrapper. She was fumbling over the laces of her corset.

"Scissors! Sippett-cut them! Let her breathe freely."

I remained just long enough to see that Lady L was recovering."

"Sippett, you will not leave your mistress for a moment on any account."

I had been only just in time. She had been as near an attack of apoplexy as a stout and inebriated woman of her age could be without incurring the full penalty of her conduct. Then I left the room. Vexed, humiliated, degraded, all the angry contempt which had culminated within me during the past twenty minutes gave way to a feeling of passionate despair.

I felt at the moment the "little devil" my friend the fair young man of Soho had called me. I slowly descended the broad stairs. John was in the dining room. He was employed in clearing away the lunch things.

"Where are the maids, John?"

"Sippett is upstairs, miss, the others are both gone out. It is their turn out, Sunday afternoon."

"Where is the butler-and the cook?"

"Cook is preparing for the dinner in the kitchen, miss. The butler is asleep before the kitchen fire."

"Make haste. Clear the things away. I want you, John."

"Yes, miss."

I threw myself into an easy chair. I waited. Presently John returned.

"Oh, Miss Eveline! How you did give it to him?"

"No more than he deserved, John."

"Anyway he got it very hot, miss. I doubt if he'll ever come back."

"I have hurt my hand very much. It aches, John."

I held it up. My little palm was all red, and tingled dreadfully.

"So you have, miss. You're still all of a tremble."

"Only wait, John, until Sir Edward comes home."

"Well, miss, of course it is not my place to say so, but if I was you, miss, I should say nothing about it. My lady has been going on for nearly a year now like that. Sir Edward knows it, miss. But he can't stop it. No one can stop a woman, miss, once she takes to that."

I held up my hand to show him. It stung and burned. John took it respectfully in his big paw. He carried it to his lips as if I was a child.

"Poor little hand! Kiss it to make it well?"

It only wanted that. I broke into a flood of tears. One touch of sympathy is worth a sack of gold sometimes. How lonely I was! Why was I thrown into this man's arms?

I leaned my head on his shoulder. John's attention was divided. A great part no doubt was full of sympathy for me. The rest was centered in an effort to protect his best livery.

"Don't take on, missy. It's all right-I knew how it would be. I was nearby. When I heard the sound of that smack, miss, why-I was in it too. I would have knocked him silly, if you hadn't."

I kissed John on the mouth. John kissed me back. I dried my tears and saved his Sunday livery.

"Are you sure the butler is fast asleep, John?"

"Well, miss, he always takes an hour after his dinner, Sundays, and he's only begun snoring about five minutes ago."

"John, you're a good fellow and I like you very much."

I smiled up at him through my tears. I put on the air of a spoiled child.

"I want to feel that thing again, John."

He looked right and left-then he listened.

"There's no one about now, miss."

I had suited the action to the word. My hand was on his plush breeches.

"Oh, John! How stiff it is! My hand can't get round it."

His eyes glistened. He got more at home.

"Put it in here, miss."

He undid a couple of buttons. I plunged my hand down. I grasped his huge limb. Only his shirt covered it now. It was hot and throbbing. I pressed it. I pinched it. I tried to get my hand under the shirt.

"Wait a minute, miss. If you must, you know, you must."

He undid the other buttons. His limb was now free with only his linen over it. It stuck up in front of him like a great peg to hang dresses on.

"What a beauty he looks, John!"

"He is that, miss. My mother found that out when I was a little 'un, miss. She used to show him to the neighbors. One old single lady used to bring him biscuits."

"Biscuits-John-why? How could he swallow biscuits?"

"I ate 'em for him, miss. They went down to him that way, I suppose. They were ginger nuts, miss. Anyhow, he got fine and large."

"You ought to give him a name, John. I shall call him Robin, because of his red breast. Come here, Robin."

I had released the prisoner from his confinement. I beheld the man's nudity erect in all its glorious proportions. How shall I describe the thing which reared its noble crest close under my nose as I sat in the low chair, its huge white shaft standing out against the curling black hair of John's belly? The blue veins coursing over the pale wavy surface; the big bell-shaped top-dark, menacing, its knob descending until a little slit-like aperture terminated its broad surface, which pouted on either side like ripe cherries.

"What a beauty he looks, John, my Robin!"

The man's lust, however, was rising furiously all this time. It was no child's play for him. I had excited the lion. It wanted flesh. He lost much of his subservient manner-his respect. He knelt down and pushed his hand up under my clothes. His cheek flushed and his breath came hot and fast.

"My good Lord, miss, how beautifully made your legs are! What lovely stockings-oh, what a soft thigh! Ah! Oh! How delicious it is! It's like so much velvet!"

The last exclamation was called forth by his touching a certain central portion of my person, the moist and hot reception with which his finger was regaled giving him evidently the liveliest pleasure.

"That's where Robin wants to go. That's where he'd like to hide his head, miss. Just in there!"

He slipped his finger in and tickled my button acutely-deliciously. I retained my hold of his thing. I gently moved the loose skin up and down.

"I am afraid he would not be content only to hide his head there, John."

"He can be very soft and gentle when he likes, miss."

"He may go wherever he likes, John. Only be careful and quiet."

He now lost what little self-restraint was left to him. He caught me in his strong arms. He rubbed his body against mine. He kissed me on the mouth. Our tongues met-my eyes looked into his. He read desire-hot, voluptuous desire, there. We both groaned to indulge it- to enjoy-to satisfy it. We were mad, and there was more than method in our madness. John glanced all round. The armchairs and sofa were tempting, but then it was just possible we might be interrupted. Suddenly an inspiration came to him. By the door he could hear all approaching footsteps. The case was desperate. There was no time to be lost. He pushed me roughly with my back against the door. His breeches' flap was already unbuttoned. His nakedness was in full evidence. I assisted him to raise my clothes in front. He pressed his belly against me. He stooped. He thrust his hot, long limb between my legs. I opened them to make way.

"You must be quick, John. Listen! Do you hear anything?"

"No, no, all is quiet. It is the only chance. Let me do it. I am bound to get into you now, miss."

With my own hand I guided the red head to my slit. I rubbed it between the lips of my orbit, up and down, testing my hot little button with its dimpled tip. He bore forward. It slipped in. In and up me half its length at least. I put my hands on his broad shoulders. I raised myself to meet his fierce thrusts. With each strong effort he almost lifted me off my legs. It was all the way inside me now. I moaned faintly. The pleasure mounted quickly. John hissed his ecstasy in short gasps.

"Good Lord! It is so tight! I'm nearly coming!"

He gripped me round the haunches with an iron hold. He moved in quick, short jerks. I met each thrust with my own. His limb grew hard and even stiffer. I wanted more of it. He pressed me to him. I felt his discharge. I knew he was flooding my interior with his sperm. I cared for nothing but to receive it all. He withdrew in haste. My parts were swimming. My thighs were slippery with the thick warm seed. A pool of it lay on the carpet between my feet.

"Oh, John, you have nearly killed me. You must never do that again."

I ran upstairs to my own chamber. I made liberal use of my toilet appliances. I neither cared, nor feared, for the results of my imprudence.

Twenty minutes later, John came to announce the carriage at the door. He assisted me into it with the most respectful and matter-of- fact air in the world.