by Jane Ashford
Adrienne made a grandiose gesture. “Let there be music and revelry,” she cried. And to everyone’s further astonishment, music began. Heads turned in concert to see a four-piece orchestra seated in the trees not far away. Adrienne laughed. “We are to be just like the Greeks,” she added. “We shall feast in the glade.”
Constance made a stifled noise, and Joanna saw Gerald frown fiercely. She caught his eye, and he came swiftly over to them. “That woman knows no more of Greece than an insect,” he hissed. “It is outrageous.”
Constance was restraining a smile. “It is,” she agreed. “But a little funny, too. Where can she have got the idea?”
Gerald looked at her. “Do you think it funny?” He frowned thoughtfully.
“Come, Joanna,” said Selina, pulling at the other girl’s arm. “Let us go look at the temple.”
Joanna let herself be taken away, leaving Constance and Gerald together. She and Selina went up to the little building. It was raised three steps off the ground and oval-shaped. As Selina ran her hand along one of the pillars, Sir Rollin came down the steps. It seemed at first as if he might walk right past them, so Joanna said, “Hello.”
He turned his head, raised one eyebrow, and nodded a careless greeting. Joanna was puzzled. “You waited here?” she added inanely.
“I could not resist watching everyone’s reaction to my sister’s folly.”
“Folly?” echoed Joanna involuntarily. This seemed harsh.
“That is what they are called, my little innocent.” He looked around. “If you will excuse me now…”
Joanna’s cheeks reddened. He seemed completely uninterested in talking with her. Had she done something to offend him? But how? She had not seen him in days.
“Look, Joanna,” called Selina, “there is a mosaic in the floor.”
With some relief, Joanna turned to examine the temple. There was indeed a mosaic, made of chips of different colored stones.
“What is it, Sir Rollin?” called Selina.
The man, who had been turning to go, came over to them with obvious impatience. “It is Daphne, being turned into a tree to escape the attentions of Apollo. My sister chose the subject.” The mockery in his voice was cutting, and it made Joanna intensely uncomfortable. She could not tell if it was directed only at his sister, or if he was mocking them as well.
“A tree?” answered Selina. “How very odd.”
“You are not a student of the classics, I see,” responded Sir Rollin.
Selina gaped at him, but before she could speak, her mother was heard calling her to be introduced to a distant neighbor. The girl hesitated, then with one uneasy look at Joanna, scurried away.
A silence fell. Adrienne Finley was guiding most of the guests around the edge of the glade, showing off her creation. The rest stood near the orchestra, chatting and commenting on the music. For the moment, Joanna and Sir Rollin were alone, partially screened from the others by the pillars of the little temple.
He moved slightly, as if to walk away, and Joanna took her courage in both hands and said, “Sir Rollin?”
“Yes?” he replied without interest, turning back to her.
“May I speak to you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You are speaking to me.”
“Oh, what is the matter?” she blurted out. “Have I done something to offend you?”
These questions came out more loudly than she intended. Denby glanced around to see if they had been overheard, while Joanna blushed scarlet. But no one was paying them any heed. Adrienne had her audience on the far side of the space now, showing them a hidden path. And the others had moved to join her. Sir Rollin strode up the three steps and stood very close to Joanna. She gazed up at him nervously; he was surveying her much as her father did one of his abstruse scientific problems, a slight frown wrinkling his brow.
“Offended me?” he said finally. “How should you offend me, Miss Rowntree?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He glanced around them again and moved a bit further into the shadow of one of the pillars, drawing Joanna with him. They stood even closer now, and Joanna felt very awkward. She gazed at his tie pin, which was only three inches from her eyes, and wondered what to do.
“Beauty never offends me,” continued the man, bending his head. She felt his breath on her cheek and trembled a little. His voice sounded odd, almost as if he were amused by something, but she could not meet his eye.
Suddenly, she felt his arm slide around her waist, and she was pulled against his chest. For a moment, she was so startled she couldn’t move. Sir Rollin put a finger under her chin, raised her face to his, and kissed her expertly.
Recovering her wits, Joanna pulled away. “Sir Rollin!” She backed up a few steps. “Someone will see!”
He smiled. “Ah, you would prefer to continue when they can’t perhaps?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Her emotions were in such tumult that she could scarcely frame a reply. Did he really mean what he had said? Was this some sort of unconventional proposal? Meeting his dancing hazel eyes, she knew that it was not. Sir Rollin was not thinking of marriage at this moment. The red in her cheeks deepened. “No, I do not,” she said.
“Turning missish all at once? What a pity. When you know you enjoyed it as much as I.”
Putting her hands to her flaming cheeks, Joanna stared at him. Her mind was chaos. But one thing stood out clearly—he was wrong. She had not enjoyed the kiss, not at all. And this fact was as confusing to her as any of the rest. She had thought that she wanted Sir Rollin to fall in love with her. She had excitedly imagined how it would be to be his wife. But now it appeared that she had been mistaken again. When he had held her, she had felt only worry that someone would see them, and a strong desire to escape.
She started to tell him so, but just then, Adrienne announced lunch and Selina began calling Joanna to join her group. “We must find seats together, Joanna,” she cried. “Come along.” The younger girl moved quickly to secure a table for six.
“Oh no,” murmured Joanna. She did not see how she could face the others just now.
“Courage,” said Sir Rollin, and the mockery was clear in his voice once again. “May I?” He offered his arm.
Though she didn’t wish to, after a moment Joanna took it. She was too shaken to walk proudly off across the grass, as she wished with all her heart to do. And the important thing now was to get control of her emotions; there were hours to get through before she could go home.
Selina had gathered Jack Townsend and Jonathan Erland to her table, along with one of her female friends from the neighborhood. When Joanna and Sir Rollin came up, she said, “There, we are six. Let us sit down before someone tries to part us.”
Sir Rollin looked chagrined, but he could not now escape without being extremely rude. Jonathan Erland smiled warmly at Joanna and held a chair for her, which she dropped into at once. She was too preoccupied even to remember that she had been nervous about seeing him again.
With poor grace, Sir Rollin took the remaining chair on her other side, and everyone sat down.
Selina was overjoyed with her position between Jack and Jonathan Erland. She bounced in her chair as the servants began to bring around the food, and showed every sign of ominous overexcitement. Joanna was alarmed to see her accept a glass of champagne when one of the waiters offered it, and she tried to catch her friend’s eye without success. Her own concerns receded a little as she wondered how she might hint that Selina should curb her spirits. Should she mention her mishap at Erland’s picnic? No, that would be unkind.
“I have not even spoken to you yet,” said Jonathan Erland then. “How do you do?”
His easy, pleasant voice somehow filled Joanna with a vast relief. She could not have said just why, but suddenly her problems seemed much less significant. She smiled up at him in gratitude. “I am al
l right.”
Her tone made him look closely at her, but he said only, “Your father is not here today?”
Joanna’s smile broadened. “No. He could not bear the idea of another party.”
Erland smiled. “Ah. I shall see him tomorrow at the ruins then.”
“You have found something?” asked Denby sharply, leaning forward around Joanna.
Erland looked at him blandly. “What do you mean?”
Denby drew back. “Nothing, nothing.”
“I say!” exclaimed Jack Townsend suddenly. “What the deuce was that?”
Everyone looked up, startled. Jack had spoken very loudly. They followed the direction of his gaze, but there was nothing there except trees.
“I saw a face staring out at us,” said Jack. “Frightening thing. It seemed all surrounded by hair.” He turned back a bit sheepishly and looked at his champagne glass. “Can’t have imagined it.”
“Not at all, Townsend,” said Sir Rollin. “That was my sister’s hermit.”
Jack goggled at him. “Beg pardon?”
“Hadn’t you heard? Adrienne hired a hermit.”
“H-hired?” Jack was obviously out of his depth. He looked helplessly around the table.
“Oh, how I wish I had seen him!” exclaimed Selina.
“You’ll see him,” answered Denby drily. “He has instructions to show himself about the edges of the clearing every few minutes. Must be quite tedious for the poor fellow.”
“I should say so,” said Jonathan Erland. He sounded much more sincere than Denby.
“B-but all that hair,” said Jack.
“Oh, yes, he has been growing it for weeks. Adrienne is so pleased.”
The tone of Sir Rollin’s voice made Joanna wince. And at that moment, Adrienne herself came up. “Is everyone enjoying himself?” she asked. “Can I have anything brought for you?”
“We are getting on splendidly, my dear,” answered her brother. “Townsend has seen your hermit, and I have been telling everyone about him.” The mockery was so clear that Adrienne flushed.
“Indeed? Well, I hope Mr. Townsend was not startled. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I know he hasn’t been well. Have you completely recovered from your wetting, Mr. Townsend?”
Jack signified that he had.
“I’m so glad. That was a nasty storm. Rollin was very lucky to reach home before the rain really began.” And with one sharp triumphant look at her brother, Adrienne moved on to the next table.
Joanna looked at Sir Rollin, then away. He had distinctly told her that he had been caught out in the storm.
The man said nothing and looked sublimely unaware that there was anything to be said.
At that moment, Selina screeched, “Oh, I saw him; I saw him!” She swept out an arm extravagantly. “I saw the hermit, over there!” Unfortunately, her arm caught her full glass of champagne and knocked it flying across the table. The liquid hit Jonathan Erland’s shoulder, smacked wetly across Joanna’s face, and ended up squarely in Sir Rollin Denby’s lap. All of them pulled back, startled.
“Oohhh,” breathed Selina. “Oh, I beg your pardon.”
Joanna put a hand to her wet cheek.
“Oh, how clumsy I am,” moaned Selina. “How could I be so careless? I declare I did not see that glass at all.”
“It’s nothing,” replied Jonathan Erland. He pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Joanna. “A drop merely. We’ll have it off in a trice.” He paid no attention to his damp coat and shoulder.
Joanna wiped her cheek gratefully, and started to reassure Selina, but before she could speak, Sir Rollin Denby was on his feet. “A drop!” he said cuttingly. “Hardly.” His waistcoast and pantaloons were drenched. “Your ineptitude is only exceeded by your plainness, Miss Grant.” And with this, he turned and stalked away.
“Oh dear,” said the other girl at the table. “How rude.”
“It certainly was,” agreed Jack Townsend. “I’ve half a mind to go after him and bring him to book.” He frowned, but made no attempt to rise.
“Oh no,” said Selina. “You mustn’t. I was abominably clumsy.” She sounded near tears.
Erland took his handkerchief from Joanna’s limp hand and began to wipe his coat. “Might have happened to anyone,” he said. “With that hermit about, I shall be surprised if we don’t see a good many spills today.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Jack eagerly. “I dashed near knocked over my glass when I saw him. Gave me quite a start.”
“Yes,” agreed Joanna. “It was hardly your fault, Selina. And no harm was done. I am not even wet.”
“But Mr. Erland is,” murmured Selina, all her high spirits crushed. “And…and Sir Rollin. Oh, I thought I should sink when he…”
“Don’t think of it,” said Erland. “He was upset for a moment. I daresay he will apologize later.” He said this heartily, but without much conviction.
“Not him,” protested Jack Townsend. Then, catching Erland’s eye, he added, “Or, that is, yes, of course. It’s nothing but a trifle, Selina. Bound to get over it.”
“Look there,” said Erland. “We are to have ices. Mrs. Finley has certainly outdone me all along the line.”
This attempt to divert everyone’s attention was partly successful. And when Joanna added, “There must be four or five kinds,” Selina brightened perceptibly.
“I’ll go snatch us some from that fellow there,” said Jack, indicating a waiter with a large tray. “It’ll take him forever to get to us.”
This notion was applauded, and Erland offered his help. By the time they returned, laden, Joanna had so soothed Selina that she could laugh at the gentlemen’s antics in serving the ices. And the group’s enjoyment in eating two, or in some cases three, each was hardly clouded. The meal ended in merriment with Erland describing his efforts to get ices in Canada, one day when his nostalgic longing for them was acute, and his utter failure to do so.
The company rose from the table by two thirty. Sir Rollin did not reappear, and no one seemed to miss him. Adrienne had not planned any games for the afternoon; rather, she called all the young people together and tried to get them to dance to the strains of the small orchestra. But at midafternoon it was rather warm, and her guests showed more inclination for strolling about the gardens chatting and flirting. After a time, she gave up with an annoyed shrug and left them to it.
Selina went to speak to her mother, to pour out the tale of her further disgrace, and Joanna was left with Jonathan Erland, who offered his arm and suggested a walk. Only now did Joanna remember her embarrassment, and she was a little reluctant to go. But Erland had been so gallant over lunch that she could not refuse.
As soon as they were away from the others, she expressed her gratitude. “You were so kind to Selina. Thank you!”
He shrugged, smiling. “I really did no more than say the truth. It wasn’t any great tragedy, after all.”
“No, but it was awkward for poor Selina. And Sir Rollin…” Joanna paused. She did not want to talk about Sir Rollin. His behavior all day had been inexcusable, and she was still too upset herself to consider it.
“Ah, well,” answered Erland lightly, “if my clothes were as elegant as his, I daresay I should be angrier when they were wetted. I wonder if he’s coming back? He must have changed by now.”
Joanna said nothing, and after a moment, Erland changed the subject, to her relief.
They walked through the wilderness to the other side and strolled around its edge, admiring some beds of flowers that backed up to the wall of the park. Then, as they rounded a corner, they came abruptly upon Constance Williston and Gerald, sitting on a rustic bench and, Joanna was certain, holding hands, though they moved quickly apart when they saw the newcomers.
“Hello,” said Gerald. “We had to get away from that monstrous temple. So we, we
came out here.” He smiled a little sheepishly.
“Do you call it monstrous?” asked Erland, also smiling.
Gerald’s eyes kindled. “What else? How could they build a Greek temple? It is…it is…blasphemous!”
“Oh no,” exclaimed Constance.
“Well, no, not exactly that, but very near. I can’t stand to look at it.”
“And you needn’t,” finished Constance calmly, “You may look at the flowers instead.” She gestured toward the wall.
“Yes.” Gerald turned to his sister. “Joanna did you know that Constance, Miss Williston, knows all about flowers? She had just been telling me.”
Joanna nodded and smiled. Constance flushed a little, but looked remarkably happy.
“Well, it is dashed fascinating.”
“We won’t interrupt your discussion in that case,” put in Erland. “We were going to look at the side garden.”
“Yes,” agreed Joanna, still smiling. “We will see you later.”
They walked on. After a while, Erland said, “That will be a fine match, I think.”
Joanna looked up at him, surprised. “Did you notice it? I think you’re right. It’s the greatest thing. I never thought Gerald would marry.”
“He’s very lucky. I should think they will suit admirably.”
“Oh, yes. Constance is interested in all his boring ideas.”
He laughed.
“I didn’t mean…” began Joanna.
“I know,” said Erland. “I know exactly.”
Joanna cocked her head, a bit doubtful, but she felt again that same warm relief she had experienced when sitting down to luncheon. Mr. Erland really was a good friend.
At that moment, they came out into the side garden, finding some of the other guests there, and their private conversation came to an end.
The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly. Sir Rollin did not reappear, and there were no new disasters. Mrs. Rowntree called for their carriage at four, and Joanna climbed up without regret. She had much to think of and was very ready to go home. Gerald went back to tea with the Willistons, and as they drove off, Mrs. Rowntree said, “I am so glad.”
