Mollie's Prince: A Novel

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

  CHAPTER XVI.

  SIR REYNARD AND THE GRAPES.

  "Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. And made a sunshine in the shady place."

  SPENSER'S _Faerie Queene_.

  It is the opinion of certain wiseacres that enjoyment consists mainly inanticipation and retrospection, and that the actual pleasure is reducedto a minimum. But to Waveney her first Sunday at the Red House wassimply perfect. Not the shadow of a shade crossed her path until shesaid good-bye to Mollie in the evening.

  Even the weather was propitious, and when the morning mist had rolledoff the common, another of those golden days, peculiar to Autumn, seemedto flood Erpingham with warm, mellow sunshine.

  The rich brown and amber tints of the bracken excited Waveney'sadmiration as they crossed a corner of the common, on their way tochurch. It was the longest way, Doreen explained, but she had somebusiness that took her to the upper end of the village. Then they walkedslowly down the main street past the fountain and the Roman Catholicchurch, with its old lych-gate. On their way Waveney learned how thesisters spent their Sunday afternoons.

  Doreen always went to the Home of Rest for Workers. One of the inmateshad partially lost her sight, and Doreen generally read to her and wroteher letters. It was her custom to remain to tea; it gave the matron anhour's freedom, and made a change for the ladies.

  The Porch House was always thrown open for the girls' use from two tosix on Sunday afternoons. There was no meal provided, but some of themliked to come up for an hour or two's reading or study, or to meet theirfriends. In winter there was always a bright fire and plenty of light,and Althea, stealing down the dark garden paths, would peep, unseen, atthe merry group of chattering girls gathered round the fire.

  Althea's Bible-class was always held in the dining-room of the RedHouse. About twenty girls attended it. Waveney discovered later thatAlthea spent most of her mornings preparing for this class; but when sheexpressed her surprise at the amount of labour it involved, Althea onlysmiled.

  "My dear, it is very necessary labour," she returned. "It is no easymatter, I assure you, to keep ahead of girls like Nora Greenwell andAlice Mitchell. I have to study for dear life, and sometimes theirquestions are so difficult to answer that I have to apply for help toour good Vicar.

  "I am very fond of my Sunday work," she said, as she and Waveney walkedslowly on until Doreen should overtake them. "Two or three of the girlsalways remain to tea. I give my invitations on Thursday evening; and asI make no distinction, and each one has her proper turn, there is nomargin for jealousy. I limit the number to four, as I like my Sundaytea-parties to be cosy. We call them library teas, and Mrs. Willis isgenerally very liberal with her cakes. Well, dear, why do you look at meso?"

  "I was only thinking how full your life is, and how happy you must be!"returned Waveney, simply; and a faint flush rose to Althea's cheek.

  "All lives ought to be full," she said, gravely. "It always makes meangry when people talk of empty, blighted, or disappointed lives;" andher tone was so severe that Waveney felt vaguely surprised.

  "But, Miss Harford," she observed, timidly, "a great many women aredisappointed, you know."

  "Oh, yes, of course, life is as full of disappointments as this bush isfull of blackberries this morning. But, all the same, they have onlythemselves to blame if their existence is dull and colourless. There istoo much mawkish sentiment talked at the present day," she went on. "Iwas only telling my girls so the other day. When trouble comes to awoman--and Heaven knows they have their share of suffering: I suppose,for their soul's good--it is no good creeping along the ground like abird with a broken wing; they must summon all their pluck, and fighttheir way through the thorns. Of course, even the brave ones get alittle torn and scarred, but they are too proud to show their wounds.Look, here comes my sister, and we will change the subject." And then,as Doreen joined them, they walked on quickly; but Althea's blue eyeshad a strange glow in them.

  When Waveney reached Sloane Square she found Mollie had kept her word,and was on the platform to receive her. She gave a little cry when shesaw Waveney, and more than one passer-by looked round with kindlyamusement as the sisters rushed into each other's arms.

  "Oh, Mollie, how lovely you look! What have you done to yourself?" ButMollie only laughed. And then, like two children, they walked up thestairs hand-in-hand. And to Mollie it might have been the golden ladderthat leads to Paradise. Her dearer self, her twin sister, was besideher, and the five blank days were over.

  "Father and Noel have gone for a walk," she said, as they turned downKing Street. "I shall have you to myself for a whole hour. Oh, Wave, howare we to talk fast enough!--so much has happened even in these fivedays! I wish I could write clever letters like you. But I am so stupid!"

  "Nonsense, sweetheart. Why, I loved your letters, and always slept withthem under my pillow."

  "Did you, really? Oh, Wave, what a darling you are! But, of course, Idid the same. And I was so amused at your meeting 'the noticeable man,with the large grey eyes.' Father heard me chuckling, and he insisted onmy reading your letter to him; but he was quite startled when I came toMr. Chaytor's name. I don't think he was quite pleased."

  "What makes you think that, Mollie, dear."

  "Oh, he frowned and bit his lip. You know his way. And then he took upthe newspaper and cleared his throat. But I heard him mutter, as thoughto himself, 'Another of them. Now I wonder which of them it is.' But, asyou only said Mr. Chaytor, I could not tell him."

  "It was Thorold," returned Waveney. And then, as they came in sight ofthe house, she kissed her hand to it in a sort of ecstasy. "Oh, you dearold place, I have dreamt of you every night!" And then, as Mollie usedher latch-key, Mrs. Muggins came to meet them, purring loudly, withuplifted tail.

  "Dear me, I never noticed how steep and narrow the staircase is!"remarked Waveney, innocently. "And Mollie, dear, you really must causefather to get some new stair-drugget. Crimson felt would look so niceand warm, and would not cost much." But Mollie shook her head.

  "We must wait for that, I am afraid," she said, sadly. Then she cheeredup. "But, Wave, father has got such a lovely new great-coat, and he doeslook so nice in it; and Noel insisted on his getting a new hat, too. Itell father that he will be ashamed to walk with me, now he has grownsuch a dandy." And then Mollie broke off in confusion, and began toblush, for Waveney's eyes were fixed on the round table in the studio. Amagnificent basket of hot-house grapes stood in the centre.

  Waveney regarded it with the look of a cat that sees cream. There werethree pounds at least, and the purple bloom of the fruit made a richspot of colour in the room.

  Waveney's expression was inscrutable. "Mollie," she said, at last, "theBlack Prince has been here again."

  "Yes, dear," stammered Mollie, with the air of a culprit discovered in afault; "but I did not expect him--I told you so. I was on my kneesdarning the stair-carpets, because father caught his foot in a hole thatvery morning; and when Ann opened the door, there he was, and, ofcourse, he saw me."

  "Oh, of course, there is nothing wrong with Sir Reynard's eyes,"muttered Waveney. "They are very good eyes, I should say." But thisremark seemed to puzzle Mollie.

  "Why do you call him Reynard, Waveney? He is not sly, not a bit of it.He was so funny. He wanted to help me with the stair-carpet--he said hewas a good hand at darning; but I would not hear of such a thing, and,of course, I took him into the study."

  "Well, child, what then?" and Waveney seated herself on Grumps, andpatted the sofa gently as an invitation for Mollie to do the same. "Andthen Sir Reynard presented his grapes."

  Mollie stamped her little foot.

  "I will not have it, Waveney. You shall not call our nice littleMonsieur Blackie by such a horrid name. Yes, he offered the grapes withsuch a droll little speech; but I can't remember exactly what he said,only that a friend of his had a splendid vinery, and he always sent himsuch quantities of grapes, and it would be a charity
to help him to eatthem, and so on."

  "Yes, and so on. And you said, 'Thank you, my dear Black Prince. You arevery generous to poor little Cinderella.'"

  "Waveney, if you talk such nonsense I won't love you a bit. Of course Ithanked him--and I must have done it nicely, for he looked pleased,almost as though he were relieved. 'That's right,' he said, heartily.'What a sensible young lady you are, Miss Mollie! You take thingsnaturally and as you ought--and I wanted to please you. You know Ialways want to please you.'"

  Waveney caught her breath, and there was almost a look of fear in hereyes.

  "Did he say those very words, Mollie?"

  "Yes, dear," in a tranquil tone. "And I am sure he meant it, too. He didlook so very kind. 'Do you know I wanted to please you the very firstday I saw you,' he went on, 'and it has been the same every day since. Iam such a lonely sort of fellow since Gwen left me. Gwen is my sister,you know.'"

  "And that fetched you, of course?" But Waveney did not speak in herusual tone. And how she watched the bright, speaking face beside her.

  "Yes, indeed, I thought of you, and I asked such a lot of questionsabout this Gwendoline, and I am sure he liked answering them. She is notpretty, Wave, not a bit--ugly, in fact; but her husband adores her. Sheis very tall and graceful, but he told me he would not show me thepicture he had in his pocket, because plain people were not in my line.Wasn't that a funny speech? And then we had a quarrel; but he stuck tohis point. He said he hoped that some day he would be able to introduceher to us, and that he would rather wait till then. But, Wave, what am Ithinking about? I meant you to have some grapes." And then she jumped upfrom her seat and limped quickly to the table, and for a momentWaveney's eyes were a little misty.

  "How innocent she is! What a child! But I dare not enlighten her," shesaid to herself. "I wonder what father thinks. If I can, I will justgive him a hint. I think he ought to find out who Mr. Ingram really is;we know nothing about him. He may be in earnest--very likely he is; buthe ought not to come when Mollie is alone."

  The hour passed all too quickly, and just as Waveney was giving a fulldescription of Thursday evening her father's voice made her start fromher seat and fly downstairs; but there was no one that day to liken herto Titania. How Everard's face brightened at the sight of his darling!And even Noel "chortled in his joy," to use his favourite expression. Heactually submitted to be kissed twice without making a wry face, thoughhe immediately turned up the collar of his coat.

  "It has been rather tropical lately," he observed, blandly, "but now old'Storm-and-Stress' has come, we must look out for draughts." But Waveneywas admiring the great-coat, and took no notice.

  "It is father's turn," exclaimed Mollie, cheerfully. "Noel, you mustcome and help me get tea ready. We shall have it in the studio, ofcourse;" and then she stumped off to the kitchen, and Waveney and herfather went upstairs.

  They had a little talk together. Everard asked a few questions about hisold friends, and seemed much interested in all Waveney's descriptions.

  "I think you have a good berth, dear," he said, presently, "and that youare likely to be very happy with the Misses Harford."

  "Yes, father, and I am sure that I shall soon learn to love MissAlthea--Good Queen Bess, as I call her. But--but"--the colour rising toher face, as she squeezed his arm with her little hands--"I would ratherbe at home with my dad."

  "I know that, darling, and dad has missed his little girl badly. By thebye, Waveney, there seems a plentiful crop of ghosts at the Red House.Mollie tells me that the other night you met a Mr. Chaytor."

  "Yes, father, Mr. Thorold Chaytor. He seemed very nice, and he read sobeautifully. Miss Althea says he is a barrister--but that, though he isso clever, he gets few briefs, and that he ekes out his income by doingliterary work."

  "He was always a clever fellow," returned Mr. Ward; "but I remember Iliked Tristram best. Poor old Trist, he was a bit soft on Althea. Iremember how angry he was when some one told him it was lad's love.Thorold was a cut above us, and we were rather in awe of him. I wonderwhat sort of looking fellow he is now."

  "He is tall and rather distinguished looking. I mean, people cannot helpnoticing him." Then Mr. Ward's eyes twinkled mischievously.

  "'A noticeable man,' eh, Waveney? 'with large grey eyes?'" Then Waveneyblushed and laughed.

  "What a perfidious Mollie! But, father, it is really such a truedescription! Mr. Chaytor is quite plain and ordinary-looking, and he isold, too,--five-and-thirty, I should say; but when he speaks you wouldnever call him plain."

  "No, I know what you mean. But his brother Tristram was a very handsomeman."

  "Did you know them well, father?"

  "Very well, indeed. The Chaytors lived at the old Manor House--theirgrandfather had bought it. It was a fine old place, about two miles fromKitlands, and when I visited them they lived in good style andentertained largely. Old Chaytor, as we called him, was fond of life andgaiety; though we youngsters knew little about it, he kept racers, andabout the time I married, his losses were so heavy that they could nolonger afford to live in the old Manor House."

  "Were there only those two brothers, father, dear?"

  "No, there was a sister Joanna--Joa they called her--a pretty, fairgirl; she and Althea were great friends. She was engaged to LeslieParker. The Parkers were neighbours of theirs; they lived in a quaintold house in the village, called The Knolls, but I heard afterwardsthat, when the old Manor House was sold, and Mr. Chaytor died, themarriage was broken off. I never cared much for the Parkers; they were amercenary lot. All the sons married women with money. But it was hardlines on poor little Joa."

  "Oh, father, how dreadfully interesting all this is! I do so loveancient history."

  "It was by no means interesting for the Chaytors," returned Mr. Ward,with a laugh. "Old Chaytor's love for the turf ruined them. When hedied, his sons found that his affairs were hopelessly involved, and thathe had left heavy debts. I had lost sight of them by that time; but Iheard a year or two afterwards that Mrs. Chaytor was dead, too, and thatTristram had gone to New Zealand. Rumour said that he had turned outunsatisfactorily, and that his brother had shipped him off, but I knownothing more."

  "Neither do I, except they are living in a dull-looking house inDereham." And then Mollie limped in with the tea-tray, and Noelfollowed, carrying a huge plum cake on his head, like one of the blackslaves in the "Arabian Nights." And then, as he made an obeisance likeLord Bateman's "proud young porter," it rolled to his feet; after whichMollie boxed his ears, and his father called him a young ass.

  They had a merry tea, and then they drew round the fire and sang hymns;and church-time came only too quickly.

  Waveney had her old place between her father and Mollie; and when thegas was turned down during the sermon, Mollie slipped her hand intohers.

  And a dark young man, who was sitting a few pews behind them, watchedthem attentively through the service; and, when, in the dusk, he sawMollie nestle up to her sister, a great softness came into his eyes, andhe said to himself, "Poor little thing!"

  But as Noel strutted beside his sisters on the way to the station to seeWaveney off, he said a thing that surprised them.

  "Did you see my friend the Idealist!" he asked, with his chin elevated."My word, he looked quite the swagger gentleman in his new frock coat."

  "Do you mean Monsieur Blackie!" asked Waveney; and she pressed Mollie'sarm involuntarily. She had had no opportunity of giving her father thathint, and now she must wait for another week.

  "Yes, Monsieur Blackie--Monsieur Blackie--Monsieur Blackie," returnedthe provoking lad, in a falsetto squeak. "Hold hard, father, you havenearly landed me into the gutter."

  And then a little, dark gentleman, who was following them unperceived,gave a low laugh. "My friend the humorist at his tricks again," hemurmured. "I wish Gwen could see that lad; she would love him."