A Bevy of Girls
Page 18
Marcia somewhat coldly. "I am goingup to the house--that is, if I may, Miss Carter?"
Marcia spoke with that sort of air which had such an effect on peopleslightly beneath herself. The Carters were beneath Marcia in everysense of the word, and they felt it down to their shoes, and ratherdisliked her in consequence.
"Of course, you must come up to the house," said Penelope, althoughNesta gave her such a fierce dig in the ribs for making the remark thatshe nearly cried out.
"I have come, Nesta," said Marcia, in her kind voice, "to say that youand Molly and Ethel are expected home to-morrow. We have trespassedquite long enough on your kindness, Miss Carter," she continued.
"Oh, indeed, you haven't," cried Penelope. "We like having them--they're a right good sort, all of them. Not that I care so much foryour precious Flossie Griffiths," she added, giving Nesta a dig in theribs in her turn.
"Oh, don't you? That's because you are madly jealous," said Nesta.
The girls wrangled, and fell a little behind. Marcia continued herwalk.
Molly had sworn to herself on that dreadful night, when her mother layapparently dying, that she would never wear the pale blue muslin dresswith its forget-me-not bows again. But circumstances alter one'sfeelings, and she was in that identical dress, freshly washed, and withnew forget-me-not bows, on this occasion. And she had a forget-me-notmuslin hat to match on her pretty head. Ethel was all in white andlooked charming. The girls were standing in a circle of other youngpeople when Marcia appeared. Marcia went gravely up to them; spoke tothe Carters, thanked them for their kindness, and then said quietly:
"I have come here to say that father and mother expect you all to returnhome to-morrow. If you can make it convenient to be back after earlydinner, it will suit us best. No, I will not stay now; thank you verymuch, Miss Carter. It is necessary that the girls should return then,for their duties await them. Mother is so much better, and she will bedelighted to see them. I am afraid I must go now. At what hour shallwe expect you to-morrow?"
"You needn't expect us all," was on Molly's lips. Ethel frowned and bithers. Molly raised her eyes and saw Jim looking at her.
"I suppose," she stammered, turning crimson--"I suppose about--aboutthree o'clock."
"Yes, three o'clock will do nicely. I will send a cab up to fetch yourluggage."
"You needn't do that," said Jim; "I'll drive the girls down on thedogcart and all their belongings with them," he added.
He walked a little way back with Marcia.
"I am so very glad Mrs Aldworth is better. You know, somehow or other,Miss Aldworth, we felt that we were to blame for that attack. We oughtnot to have coaxed your sisters to come back with us that night."
"We needn't talk of it now," said Marcia. "Something very dreadfulmight have happened. God in his goodness prevented it, and I greatlytrust, Mr Carter, that Mrs Aldworth will get much better in health nowthan she has ever been before."
"Well, that is excellent news," he said.
He opened the gate for Marcia.
"I am sorry you won't stay to tea," he said.
"Thank you, very much, but I must hurry back to my invalid."
"What a right good sort she is," thought the lad. "And what a splendidface she has got."
Then he returned to the merry party on the lawn. He went straight up toMolly.
"You must be happy now," he said. "You'll see her to-morrow. You havebeen telling me all this time how you have been pining for her."
"Oh, yes, I know," said Molly. "I know."
Her voice was subdued.
"You are not vexed--not put out about anything, are you?" said the boy.
"No; oh, no."
"And with such a splendid sister."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake don't begin to praise her," said Ethel, who cameup at that moment. "When we think of all that she has made us endure--and now the last thing she has done is this--she has stolen our mother'slove. It's a whole month since we saw our dear mother, and she thinksof no one but Marcia; but when Marcia gives the word, forsooth, then weare brought back--not by your leave, or anything else, but just whenMarcia wishes it."
"That's nonsense," said Jim. "You are in a bit of a temper, I think.But, come; let's have some fun while we may."
The news that they were all to go back was broken to the differentmembers of the Carter family, who expressed their regret in differentways and different degrees. Not one of them, however, suggested, asboth Molly and Ethel hoped, that it was absolutely and completelyimpossible for them to spare their beloved Aldworths. On the contrary,Clara said that sorry as they were to part, it was in some ways a littleconvenient, as their friends the Tollemaches were coming to spend afortnight or three weeks with them, and the Mortimers were also to beguests at Court Prospect.
"We shouldn't have room for you all with so many other people, so it isjust as well that you are going, for it is never agreeable to have toask one's friends to leave," said Clara in her blunt fashion.
"But all the same, we'll miss you very much," said Mabel.
"For my part," cried Annie, "I'm sorry enough to lose you two girls, butI'm rather glad as far as Penelope is concerned. She has run perfectlywild since that Nesta of yours is here. They're always squabbling andfighting over that wretched, commonplace girl, Flossie Griffiths. Iasked father about her, and he said that her people were quite commonand not worth cultivating."
"Then you only care for people worth cultivating. I wonder you likeus," said Ethel, with much sarcasm in her tone.
"Oh, you're the daughters of a professional man," said Mabel.
"And if we were not?"
Mabel laughed.
"I don't expect we'd see much of your society. Our object now is tobetter ourselves. You see, father is enormously rich, and he wants usto do great things. He wants us to be raised in the social scale. Hetold me only this morning that he was most anxious to cultivate yourstep-sister, Miss Aldworth, and I'll tell you why, Miss Aldworth is sucha very great friend of Miss Angela St Just."
"Now," said Ethel, "I'd like to ask you a question. What do you see inthat girl?"
"What do we see in her?" exclaimed Clara, who thought it time to takeher turn in the conversation, "why, just everything."
"Well, I'd like you to explain."
"Hasn't she got the most beautiful face, the most wonderful manners?She is so graceful, so gracious, and then she has such good style.There is nothing in all the world that we wouldn't any of us do for MissSt Just."
"And yet you have never spoken to her?"
"Father means that we shall, and he wants you to help us."
Molly was silent. She felt intensely cross and discontented.
"I don't know her myself," said Molly.
"But your precious Marcia does, and we are greatly hoping to get anintroduction through her."
That night as the three girls retired to bed, in the large and luxuriousroom set aside for their use at Court Prospect, they could not helpexpressing some very bitter remarks.
"We'll never have a chance against Marcia," said Molly. "She just getseverything. She has got our mother's love--Horace thinks the world ofher; father is devoted to her, and now even our own darling friend, ourdear Carters, say plainly that they want to know her because she can getthem an introduction to that tiresome Angela St Just. I haven'tpatience with them."
"It strikes me," said Ethel, "that they're not specially sorry to seethe last of us. How do you feel about it, Molly?"
"I'm not going to say," said Molly.
She went to the window and flung it open. The prospect was delightful.Overhead the stars were shining with unwonted brilliancy; there was notouch or smell of town in this rural retreat. Oh, how sweet it was--howdelightful to have such a home! But to-morrow they must give it up; thepicnics, the laughter, the fun, the gay friends always coming in andgoing out. They must go back to the little grubby house, to thetiresome monotony of everyday life--to Susan, impertinent Susan; toFanny, who had dare
d to speak to Nesta as she had done on that awfulnight; to the room where they had lived through such tortures and--totheir mother.
To tell the truth, they were afraid to see their mother. They had shutaway the idea of clasping her hand, of looking into her face. On thatnight when she lay close to death they would have given themselvesgladly to save her, but that night and this were as the poles asunder.All the old selfish ideas, all the old devotion to Number One, thatutter disregard for Number Two, were as strong as ever within