by L. T. Meade
his scholastic work he is known; itis because he is himself, and--and because of those wonderful lectures,so many of which are published. He lectures also at the Royal Society,and he writes pamphlets which set the greatest thinkers all agog. Oh, Ishould be proud of him if I were you!"
"I am glad," I said. I knew that I loved the Professor dearly. Had Inot all my life sacrificed myself for his sake, as every one else hadalso done?
Hermione said after a pause, "Miss Donnithorne told me that you were--"
"What?" I asked.
"A little bit--don't be offended--a little bit neglected."
"She had no right to say so; I am not."
As I spoke I laid my hand on the dark-blue dress, and all of a sudden Igrew to hate it. I disliked Hermione also.
"What is the matter?" she said. "Have I hurt you in any way? Iwouldn't for all the world. I am so truly glad to make youracquaintance."
"You didn't mean to," I said, recovering my temper; "but the fact is,Hermione, I live one life and you live another. You are rich, and weare poor; I am not ashamed to say it."
"It must be rather exciting to be poor," said Hermione. "I mean it mustbe interesting to know the value of money. But you don't look poor,Dumps--or--I mean Rachel. That dress--"
"Oh! don't talk of my dress, please."
"I know it's bad form," she replied, and she seemed to shrink into hershell.
After a minute she spoke on a different subject, and just then a statelybut somewhat withered-looking lady entered the room.
"Hermione, Miss Donnithorne says that you and Miss Grant must put onyour things now in order to return to Hedgerow House, otherwise youwon't be in time to receive the Professor."
"The Professor?" I cried, jumping to my feet. Hermione laughed.
"You don't mean to say that Miss Donnithorne hasn't told you that yourfather is coming to have tea with you both?"
"I didn't know anything about it. My father? But he never leavesLondon."
"He has managed to leave it to-day. How queer that you shouldn't know!"
"I had better get dressed; I shouldn't like to be late," I said.
I felt all of a flutter; I was nervous. Would he remark my dark-bluecostume, and be angry with me for not wearing my brown skirt and redblouse?
"I'll get dressed in a twinkling," said Hermione. "Come along, Dumps;this is interesting."
I wondered why she was so pleased, and why a sort of inward mirth beganto consume her. Her eyes were twinkling all the time. I began to likeher a little less and a little less; and yet, of course, she was a mostcharming and well-bred and nice-looking girl.
We went downstairs a few minutes later. We said good-bye to the Squireand his wife. The Squire said he hoped he would have the honour ofentertaining Professor's Grant's daughter again, and the Squire's ladymade some remark which I presumed signified the same. Then we wentaway, driving as fast as ever we could in the direction of HedgerowHouse.
PART ONE, CHAPTER SEVEN.
A SURPRISE TEA.
We were a little late after all, for the Professor was standing on thesteps. It does seem so ridiculous to call your own father theProfessor, but after all I had heard of him that day I really felt thatI could not even think of him under any other title. He was dressedjust as carelessly and with as little regard to outward appearances asthough he had been giving a lecture to the Sixth Form boys in thecollege. His hair was rumpled and pushed back from his lofty forehead.His eyes had that somewhat vacant stare which, notwithstanding hisgenius, I could not help constantly noticing in them. His adorers--andit struck me that the Professor had many adorers--called that his"far-away" or his "abstracted" or his "marvellous thinking" look, but tome it seemed that it was his vacant look. But there! it was very wrongof me to think such a thing about father.
"He has come," said Miss Donnithorne. "Rachel, your father is here. Iam more vexed than I can say not to have been ready to welcome him. Ihope Nancy saw to his comfort. Jump out, child, and run up the path.Be the first to greet him. I will follow you immediately."
I was almost pushed by Miss Donnithorne out of the carriage, and I ranup the little path which led to Hedgerow House. I felt that MissDonnithorne and Hermione were following me a few steps behind. Iwondered if father would notice the dark-blue dress and the grey fur.If he did he would be sure to say something which would let the cat outof the bag--something which would lower me for ever in the eyes ofHermione. As I had not chosen to tell Hermione at the time that MissDonnithorne had requested me to wear the dress that day, I shoulddislike beyond anything to have father blazoning the whole secretabroad. But he did nothing of the kind; he merely said, "Well, Dumps,you look flourishing."
He held out his hand and gave me the tips of his fingers. Then he shookhands with Miss Donnithorne, and Miss Donnithorne presented Hermione tohim. I observed that Miss Donnithorne's cheeks were brighter than theirwont. She began to speak in a very apologetic way, but father cut hershort.
"It doesn't matter," he said; "pray don't apologise." They both wentinto the house, and it seemed to me that they forgot all about Hermioneand me as completely as though we did not exist.
"How queer!" I could not help saying.
"Queer?" said Hermione. "It isn't a bit queer; it's what we ought toexpect."
"I don't know what you mean," I said.
She looked at me. I observed then that her soft brown eyes could bequizzical at times. The lids became slightly narrow, and a smile, notthe sweetest, trembled on her lips; then it vanished.
"Have you seen Miss Donnithorne's garden?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied; "and I am cold; I want to go into the house. Let usgo in, Hermione. I want, now father is with us, to be as much with himas I can."
"Oh, you little goose!" said Hermione. "For goodness' sake leave themalone. Come upstairs and show me your room."
"Why should I leave them alone?" I said.
"You are a baby!" said Hermione. She spoke almost crossly.
I certainly absolutely failed to understand her. I said after a minute,"I suppose that I understand father better than you do, and better thanMiss Donnithorne does."
"Better than Miss Donnithorne understands him?" cried Hermione. "OhDumps! I must call you Dumps, for you are quite delicious. Never,never since I was born did I meet a little girl quite so much the colourof--the colour of--"
"The colour of what?" I said.
She had her umbrella in her hand. It was very neatly folded. I reallydon't know why she brought it, as we had driven in a covered carriage;but now she poked and poked in the snow with it until she came to thegrass beneath.
"The colour of that," she said.
I am sure I turned scarlet; and I can assure you, readers, that I wasnot at all pretty when I turned that colour, for my complexion wassomewhat muddy, and I had none of those delicate pinks and whites in myskin which make people think you so absolutely charming.
"I don't understand you," I said. "I think you are very rude."
She laughed and patted me on the arm.
"You are a very nice girl," she said. "I know that; but you willforgive me. I perceive that Miss Grace Donnithorne is right and youknow nothing of the world."
"I don't know anything whatever of the world you live in," I answered."I know nothing whatever of the world which suddenly declares that aperson whom I scarcely know at all knows more of the heart of the oneperson whom I have been brought up with all my life than I do myself. Ipositively declare that Miss Grace Donnithorne does not know as muchabout father as I do."
"And I defy you to prove it. If I were a boy I'd make a bet on it,"said Hermione. "But there I never mind; don't let us talk on thesubject any longer. Come and show me your room, and afterwards you cantell me about yourself."
I had to crush down my gathering wrath, and we went upstairs. Hermionewas restless; I tried to talk in a matter-of-fact and yet haughty sortof way, but she hardly replied.
"It is so amusing," she said
.
"What is the matter with you?"
"Oh, to be in the house with _them_, you know."
"The house with whom?"
"Why, the Professor and Miss Grace Donnithorne."
"I don't see that it is the least remarkable," I answered.
"But it is--very. And dear old Grace, too--dear old Grace--whom I haveknown ever since I was a baby. I suppose I am glad, but perhaps I amsorry too; I am really not sure. You see, I have hardly looked at yourProfessor, but I'll study him tremendously when
