CHAPTER IX
LADY INGLEBY'S HOUSE PARTY
As Jane took her seat and the train moved out of the London terminusshe leaned back in her corner with a sigh of satisfaction. Somehowthese days in town had seemed insufferably long. Jane reviewed themthoughtfully, and sought the reason. They had been filled withinterests and engagements; and the very fact of being in town, as arule, contented her. Why had she felt so restless and dissatisfied andlonely?
From force of habit she had just stopped at the railway book-stall forher usual pile of literature. Her friends always said Jane could not goeven the shortest journey without at least half a dozen papers. But nowthey lay unheeded on the seat in front of her. Jane was considering herTuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and wondering why they had merelybeen weary stepping-stones to Friday. And here was Friday at last, andonce in the train en route for Shenstone, she began to feel happy andexhilarated. What had been the matter with these three days? Flower hadbeen charming; Deryck, his own friendly, interesting self; littleDicky, delightful; and Baby Blossom, as sweet as only Baby Blossomcould be. What was amiss?
"I know," said Jane. "Of course! Why did I not realise it before? I hadtoo much music during those last days at Overdene; and SUCH music! Ihave been suffering from a surfeit of music, and the miss of it hasgiven me this blank feeling of loneliness. No doubt we shall haveplenty at Myra's, and Dal will be there to clamour for it if Myra failsto suggest it."
With a happy little smile of pleasurable anticipation, Jane took up theSPECTATOR, and was soon absorbed in an article on the South Africanproblem.
Myra met her at the station, driving ponies tandem. A light cart wasalso there for the maid and baggage; and, without losing a moment, Janeand her hostess were off along the country lane at a brisk trot.
The fields and woods were an exquisite restful green in the afternoonsunshine. Wild roses clustered in the hedges. The last loads of haywere being carted in. There was an ecstasy in the songs of the birdsand a transporting sense of sweetness about all the sights and scentsof the country, such as Jane had never experienced so vividly before.She drew a deep breath and exclaimed, almost involuntarily: "Ah! it isgood to be here!"
"You dear!" said Lady Ingleby, twirling her whip and nodding ingracious response to respectful salutes from the hay-field. "It is acomfort to have you! I always feel you are like the bass of atune--something so solid and satisfactory and beneath one in case of acrisis. I hate crises. They are so tiring. As I say: Why can't thingsalways go on as they are? They are as they were, and they were as theywill be, if only people wouldn't bother. However, I am certain nothingcould go far wrong when YOU are anywhere near."
Myra flicked the leader, who was inclined to "sugar," and they flewalong between the high hedges, brushing lightly against overhangingmasses of honeysuckle and wild clematis. Jane snatched a spray of theclematis, in passing. "'Traveller's joy,'" she said, with that samequiet smile of glad anticipation, and put the white blossom in herbuttonhole.
"Well," continued Lady Ingleby, "my house party is going on quitesatisfactorily. Oh, and, Jane, there seems no doubt about Dal. Howpleased I shall be if it comes off under my wing! The American girl issimply exquisite, and so vivacious and charming. And Dal has quitegiven up being silly--not that _I_ ever thought him silly, but I knowYOU did--and is very quiet and pensive; really were it any one but he,one would almost say 'dull.' And they roam about together in the mostapproved fashion. I try to get the aunt to make all her remarks to me.I am so afraid of her putting Dal off. He is so fastidious. I havepromised Billy anything, up to the half of my kingdom, if he will sitat the feet of Mrs. Parker Bangs and listen to her wisdom, answer herquestions, and keep her away from Dal. Billy is being so abjectlydevoted in his attentions to Mrs. Parker Bangs that I begin to havefears lest he intends asking me to kiss him; in which case I shall handhim over to you to chastise. You manage these boys so splendidly. Ifully believe Dal will propose to Pauline Lister tonight. I can'timagine why he didn't last night. There was a most perfect moon, andthey went on the lake. What more COULD Dal want?--a lake, and a moon,and that lovely girl! Billy took Mrs. Parker Bangs in a double canoeand nearly upset her through laughing so much at the things she saidabout having to sit flat on the bottom. But he paddled her off to theopposite side of the lake from Dal and her niece, which was all wewanted. Mrs. Parker Bangs asked me afterwards whether Billy is awidower. Now what do you suppose she meant by that?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," said Jane. "But I am delighted to hearabout Dal and Miss Lister. She is just the girl for him, and she willsoon adapt herself to his ways and needs. Besides, Dal MUST haveflawless loveliness, and really he gets it there."
"He does indeed," said Myra. "You should have seen her last night, inwhite satin, with wild roses in her hair. I cannot imagine why Dal didnot rave. But perhaps it is a good sign that he should take things morequietly. I suppose he is making up his mind."
"No," said Jane. "I believe he did that at Overdene. But it means a lotto him. He takes marriage very seriously. Whom have you at Shenstone?"
Lady Ingleby told off a list of names. Jane knew them all.
"Delightful!" she said. "Oh! how glad I am to be here! London has beenso hot and so dull. I never thought it hot or dull before. I feel arenegade. Ah! there is the lovely little church! I want to hear the neworgan. I was glad your nice parson remembered me and let me have ashare in it. Has it two manuals or three?"
"Half a dozen I think," said Lady Ingleby, "and you work them up anddown with your feet. But I judged it wiser to leave them alone when Iplayed for the children's service one Sunday. You never know quite whatwill happen if you touch those mechanical affairs."
"Don't you mean the composition pedals?" suggested Jane.
"I dare say I do," said Myra placidly. "Those things underneath, likefoot-rests, which startle you horribly if you accidentally kick them."
Jane smiled at the thought of how Garth would throw back his head andshout, if she told him of this conversation. Lady Ingleby's musicalremarks always amused her friends.
They passed the village church on the green, ivy-clad, picturesque,and, half a minute later, swerved in at the park gates. Myra saw Janeglance at the gate-post they had just shaved, and laughed. "A miss isas good as a mile," she said, as they dashed up the long drive betweenthe elms, "as I told dear mamma, when she expostulated wrathfully withme for what she called my 'furious driving' the other day. By the way,Jane, dear mamma has been quite CORDIAL lately. By the time I amseventy and she is ninety-eight I think she will begin to be almostfond of me. Here we are. Do notice Lawson. He is new, and such a niceman. He sings so well, and plays the concertina a little, and teachesin the Sunday-school, and speaks really quite excellently at temperancemeetings. He is extremely fond of mowing the lawns, and my maid tellsme he is studying French with her. The only thing he seems reallyincapable of being, is an efficient butler; which is so unfortunate, asI like him far too well ever to part with him. Michael says I have aperfectly fatal habit of LIKING PEOPLE, and of encouraging them to dothe things they do well and enjoy doing, instead of the things theywere engaged to do. I suppose I have; but I do like my household to behappy."
They alighted, and Myra trailed into the hall with a lazy grace whichgave no indication of the masterly way she had handled her ponies, butrather suggested stepping from a comfortable seat in a barouche. Janelooked with interest at the man-servant who came forward and deftlyassisted them. He had not quite the air of a butler but neither couldshe imagine him playing a concertina or haranguing a temperance meetingand he acquitted himself quite creditably.
"Oh, that was not Lawson," explained Myra, as she led the way upstairs."I had forgotten. He had to go to the vicarage this afternoon to seethe vicar about a 'service of song' they are getting up. That was Tom,but we call him 'Jephson' in the house. He was one of Michael's studgrooms, but he is engaged to one of the housemaids, and I found he sovery much preferred being in the house, so I have arranged for him tounderstudy Law
son, and he is growing side whiskers. I shall have tobreak it to Michael on his return from Norway. This way, Jane. We haveput you in the Magnolia room. I knew you would enjoy the view of thelake. Oh, I forgot to tell you, a tennis tournament is in progress. Imust hasten to the courts. Tea will be going on there, under thechestnuts. Dal and Ronnie are to play the final for the men's singles.It ought to be a fine match. It was to come on at about half-past four.Don't wait to do any changings. Your maid and your luggage can't behere just yet."
"Thanks," said Jane; "I always travel in country clothes, and have doneso to-day, as you see. I will just get rid of the railway dust, andfollow you."
Ten minutes later, guided by sounds of cheering and laughter, Jane madeher way through the shrubbery to the tennis lawns. The whole of LadyIngleby's house party was assembled there, forming a picturesque groupunder the white and scarlet chestnut-trees. Beyond, on the beautifullykept turf of the court, an exciting set was in progress. As sheapproached, Jane could distinguish Garth's slim, agile figure, in whiteflannels and the violet shirt; and young Ronnie, huge and powerful,trusting to the terrific force of his cuts and drives to counterbalanceGarth's keener eye and swifter turn of wrist.
It was a fine game. Garth had won the first set by six to four, and nowthe score stood at five to four in Ronnie's favour; but this game wasGarth's service, and he was almost certain to win it. The score wouldthen be "games all."
Jane walked along the line of garden chairs to where she saw a vacantone near Myra. She was greeted with delight, but hurriedly, by theeager watchers of the game.
Suddenly a howl went up. Garth had made two faults.
Jane found her chair, and turned her attention to the game. Almostinstantly shrieks of astonishment and surprise again arose. Garth hadserved INTO the net and OVER the line. Game and set were Ronnie's.
"One all," remarked Billy. "Well! I never saw Dal do THAT before.However; it gives us the bliss of watching another set. They aresplendidly matched. Dal is lightning, and Ronnie thunder."
The players crossed over, Garth rather white beneath his tan. He wasbeyond words vexed with himself for failing in his service, at thatcritical juncture. Not that he minded losing the set; but it seemed tohim it must be patent to the whole crowd, that it was the sight, out ofthe tail of his eye, of a tall grey figure moving quietly along theline of chairs, which for a moment or two set earth and sky whirling,and made a confused blur of net and lines. As a matter of fact, onlyone of the onlookers connected Garth's loss of the game with Jane'sarrival, and she was the lovely girl, seated exactly opposite the net,with whom he exchanged a smile and a word as he crossed to the otherside of the court.
The last set proved the most exciting of the three. Nine hard-foughtgames, five to Garth, four to Ronnie. And now Ronnie was serving, andfighting hard to make it games-all. Over and over enthusiasticpartisans of both shouted "Deuce!" and then when Garth had won the"vantage," a slashing over-hand service from Ronnie beat him, and itwas "deuce" again.
"Don't it make one giddy?" said Mrs. Parker Bangs to Billy, whoreclined on the sward at her feet. "I should say it has gone on longenough. And they must both be wanting their tea. It would have beenkind in Mr. Dalmain to have let that ball pass, anyway."
"Yes, wouldn't it?" said Billy earnestly. "But you see, Dal is notnaturally kind. Now, if I had been playing against Ronnie, I shouldhave let those over-hand balls of his pass long ago."
"I am sure you would," said Mrs. Parker Bangs, approvingly; while Janeleaned over, at Myra's request, and pinched Billy.
Slash went Ronnie's racket. "Deuce! deuce!" shouted half a dozen voices.
"They shouldn't say that," remarked Mrs. Parker Bangs, "even if theyare mad about it."
Billy hugged his knees, delightedly; looking up at her with anexpression of seraphic innocence.
"No. Isn't it sad?" he murmured. "I never say naughty words when Iplay. I always say 'Game love.' It sounds so much nicer, I think."
Jane pinched again, but Billy's rapt gaze at Mrs. Parker Bangscontinued.
"Billy," said Myra sternly, "go into the hall and fetch my scarletsunshade. Yes, I dare say you WILL miss the finish," she added in astern whisper, as he leaned over her chair, remonstrating; "but yourichly deserve it."
"I have made up my mind what to ask, dear queen," whispered Billy as hereturned, breathless, three minutes later and laid the parasol in LadyIngleby's lap. "You promised me anything, up to the half of yourkingdom. I will have the head of Mrs. Parker Bangs in a charger."
"Oh, shut up, Billy!" exclaimed Jane, "and get out of the light! Wemissed that last stroke. What is the score?"
Once again it was Garth's vantage, and once again Ronnie's arm swunghigh for an untakable smasher.
"Play up, Dal!" cried a voice, amid the general hubbub.
Garth knew that dear voice. He did not look in its direction, but hesmiled. The next moment his arm shot out like a flash of lightning. Theball touched ground on Ronnie's side of the net and shot the length ofthe court without rising. Ronnie's wild scoop at it was hopeless. Gameand set were Garth's.
They walked off the ground together, their rackets under their arms,the flush of a well-contested fight on their handsome faces. It hadbeen so near a thing that both could sense the thrill of victory.
Pauline Lister had been sitting with Garth's coat on her lap, and hiswatch and chain were in her keeping. He paused a moment to take them upand receive her congratulations; then, slipping on his coat, andpocketing his watch, came straight to Jane.
"How do you do, Miss Champion?"
His eyes sought hers eagerly; and the welcoming gladness he saw in themfilled him with certainty and content. He had missed her so unutterablyduring these days. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday had just been wearystepping-stones to Friday. It seemed incredible that one person'sabsence could make so vast a difference. And yet how perfect that itshould be so; and that they should both realise it, now the day hadcome when he intended to tell her how desperately he wanted her always.Yes, that they should BOTH realise it--for he felt certain Jane hadalso experienced the blank. A thing so complete and overwhelming as themiss of her had been to him could not be one-sided. And how well worththe experience of these lonely days if they had thereby learnedsomething of what TOGETHER meant, now the words were to be spoken whichshould insure forever no more such partings.
All this sped through Garth's mind as he greeted Jane with that mostcommonplace of English greetings, the everlasting question which neverreceives an answer. But from Garth, at that moment, it did not soundcommonplace to Jane, and she answered it quite frankly and fully. Shewanted above all things to tell him exactly how she did; to hear allabout himself, and compare notes on the happenings of these threeinterminable days; and to take up their close comradeship again,exactly where it had left off. Her hand went home to his with that firmcompleteness of clasp, which always made a hand shake with Jane such asatisfactory and really friendly thing.
"Very fit, thank you, Dal," she answered. "At least I am every momentimproving in health and spirits, now I have arrived here at last."
Garth stood his racket against the arm of her chair and depositedhimself full length on the grass beside her, leaning on his elbow.
"Was anything wrong with London?" he asked, rather low, not looking upat her, but at the smart brown shoe, planted firmly on the grass sonear his hand. "Nothing was wrong with London," replied Jane frankly;"it was hot and dusty of course, but delightful as usual. Something waswrong with ME; and you will be ashamed of me, Dal, if I confess what itwas."
Garth did not look up, but assiduously picked little blades of grassand laid them in a pattern on Jane's shoe. This conversation would havebeen exactly to the point had they been alone. But was Jane reallygoing to announce to the assembled company, in that dear, resonant,carrying voice of hers, the sweet secret of their miss of one another?
"Liver?" inquired Mrs. Parker Bangs suddenly.
"Muffins!" exclaimed Billy instantly, and, rushing for them, almost
shot them into her lap in the haste with which he handed them,stumbling headlong over Garth's legs at the same moment.
Jane stared at Mrs. Parker Bangs and her muffins; then looked down atthe top of Garth's dark head, bent low over the grass.
"I was dull," she said, "intolerably dull. And Dal always says 'only adullard is dull.' But I diagnosed my dulness in the train just now andfound it was largely his fault. Do you hear, Dal?"
Garth lifted his head and looked at her, realising in that moment thatit was, after all, possible for a complete and overwhelming experienceto be one-sided. Jane's calm grey eyes were full of gay friendliness.
"It was your fault, my dear boy," said Jane.
"How so?" queried Garth; and though there was a deep flush on hissunburned face, his voice was quietly interrogative.
"Because, during those last days at Overdene, you led me on into a timeof musical dissipation such as I had never known before, and I missedit to a degree which was positively alarming. I began to fear for thebalance of my well-ordered mind."
"Well," said Myra, coming out from behind her red parasol, "you and Dalcan have orgies of music here if you want them. You will find a pianoin the drawing-room and another in the hall, and a Bechstein grand inthe billiard-room. That is where I hold the practices for the men andmaids. I could not make up my mind which makers I really preferred,Erard, Broadwood, Collard, or Bechstein; so by degrees I collected oneof each. And after all I think I play best upon the little cottagepiano we had in the school-room at home. It stands in my boudoir now. Iseem more accustomed to its notes, or it lends itself better to my wayof playing."
"Thank you, Myra," said Jane. "I fancy Dal and I will like theBechstein."
"And if you want something really exciting in the way of music,"continued Lady Ingleby, "you might attend some of the rehearsals forthis 'service of song' they are getting up in aid of the organ deficitfund. I believe they are attempting great things."
"I would sooner pay off the whole deficit, than go within a mile of a'service of song,'" said Jane emphatically.
"Oh, no," put in Garth quickly, noting Myra's look of disappointment."It is so good for people to work off their own debts and earn thethings they need in their churches. And 'services of song' aredelightful if well done, as I am sure this will be if Lady Ingleby'speople are in it. Lawson outlined it to me this morning, and hummed allthe principal airs. It is highly dramatic. Robinson Crusoe--no, ofcourse not! What's the beggar's name? 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'? Yes, I knewit was something black. Lawson is Uncle Tom, and the vicar's smalldaughter is to be little Eva. Miss Champion, you will walk down with meto the very next rehearsal."
"Shall I?" said Jane, unconscious of how tender was the smile she gavehim; conscious only that in her own heart was the remembrance of theevening at Overdene when she felt so inclined to say to him: "Tell mejust what you want me to do, and I will do it."
"Pauline will just love to go with you," said Mrs. Parker Bangs. "Shedotes on rural music."
"Rubbish, aunt!" said Miss Lister, who had slipped into an empty chairnear Myra. "I agree with Miss Champion about 'services of song,' and Idon't care for any music but the best."
Jane turned to her quickly, with a cordial smile and her most friendlymanner. "Ah, but you must come," she said. "We will be victimisedtogether. And perhaps Dal and Lawson will succeed in converting us tothe cult of the 'service of song.' And anyway it will be amusing tohave Dal explain it to us. He will need the courage of his convictions."
"Talking of something 'really exciting in the way of music,'" saidPauline Lister, "we had it on board when we came over. There was a nicefriendly crowd on board the Arabic, and they arranged a concert forhalf-past eight on the Thursday evening. We were about two hundredmiles off the coast of Ireland, and when we came up from dinner we hadrun into a dense fog. At eight o'clock they started blowing thefog-horn every half-minute, and while the fog-horn was sounding youcouldn't hear yourself speak. However, all the programmes were printed,and it was our last night on board, so they concluded to have theconcert all the same. Down we all trooped into the saloon, and eachitem of that programme was punctuated by the stentorian BOO of thefog-horn every thirty seconds. You never heard anything so cute as theway it came in, right on time. A man with a deep bass voice sang ROCKEDIN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP, and each time he reached the refrain, 'Andcalm and peaceful is my sle-eep,' BOO went the fog-horn, casting acertain amount of doubt on our expectations of peaceful sleep thatnight, anyway. Then a man with a sweet tenor sang OFT IN THE STILLYNIGHT, and the fog-horn showed us just how oft, namely, every thirtyseconds. But the queerest effect of all was when a girl had to play apiano-forte solo. It was something of Chopin's, full of runs and trillsand little silvery notes. She started all right; but when she washalf-way down the first page, BOO went the fog-horn, a longer blastthan usual. We saw her fingers flying, and the turning of the page, butnot a note could we hear; and when the old horn stopped and we couldhear the piano again, she had reached a place half-way down the secondpage, and we hadn't heard what led to it. My! it was funny. That wenton all through. She was a plucky girl to stick to it. We gave her agood round of applause when she had finished, and the fog-horn joinedin and drowned us. It was the queerest concert experience I ever had.But we all enjoyed it. Only we didn't enjoy that noise keeping right onuntil five o'clock next morning."
Jane had turned in her chair, and listened with appreciative interestwhile the lovely American girl talked, watching, with real delight, herexquisite face and graceful gestures, and thinking how Dal must enjoylooking at her when she talked with so much charm and animation. Sheglanced down, trying to see the admiration in his eyes; but his headwas bent, and he was apparently absorbed in the occupation of tracingthe broguing of her shoes with the long stalk of a chestnut leaf. For amoment she watched the slim brown hand, as carefully intent on thisuseless task, as if working on a canvas; then she suddenly withdrew herfoot, feeling almost vexed with him for his inattention and apparentindifference.
Garth sat up instantly. "It must have been awfully funny," he said."And how well you told it. One could hear the fog-horn, and see thedismayed faces of the performers. Like an earthquake, a fog-horn is thesort of thing you don't ever get used to. It sounds worse every time.Let's each tell the funniest thing we remember at a concert. I onceheard a youth recite Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade with muchdramatic action. But he was extremely nervous, and got rather mixed. Indescribing the attitude of mind of the noble six hundred, he told usimpressively that it was"
"'Theirs not to make reply; Theirs not to do or die; Theirs BUT TO REASON WHY.'"
"The tone and action were all right, and I doubt whether many of theaudience noticed anything wrong with the words."
"That reminds me," said Ronald Ingram, "of quite the funniest thing Iever heard. It was at a Thanksgiving service when some of our troopsreturned from South Africa. The proceedings concluded by the singing ofthe National Anthem right through. You recollect how recently we hadhad to make the change of pronoun, and how difficult it was to remembernot to shout:"
"'Send HER victorious'? Well, there was a fellow just behind me, with atremendous voice, singing lustily, and taking special pains to get thepronouns correct throughout. And when he reached the fourth line of thesecond verse he sang with loyal fervour."
"'Confound HIS politics, Frustrate HIS knavish tricks!'"
"That would amuse the King," said Lady Ingleby. "Are you sure it is afact, Ronnie?"
"Positive! I could tell you the church, and the day, and call a wholepewful of witnesses who were convulsed by it."
"Well, I shall tell his Majesty at the next opportunity, and say youheard it. But how about the tennis? What comes next? Final for couples?Oh, yes! Dal, you and Miss Lister play Colonel Loraine and MissVermount; and I think you ought to win fairly easily. You two are sowell matched. Jane, this will be worth watching."
"I am sure it will," said Jane warmly, looking at the two, who hadrisen and stood together in t
he evening sunlight, examining theirrackets and discussing possible tactics, while awaiting theiropponents. They made such a radiantly beautiful couple; it was as ifnature had put her very best and loveliest into every detail of each.The only fault which could possibly have been found with the idea ofthem wedded, was that her dark, slim beauty was so very much just afeminine edition of his, that they might easily have been taken forbrother and sister; but this was not a fault which occurred to Jane.Her whole-hearted admiration of Pauline increased every time she lookedat her; and now she had really seen them together, she felt sure shehad given wise advice to Garth, and rejoiced to know he was taking it.
* * * * *
Later on, as they strolled back to the house together,--she and Garthalone,--Jane said, simply: "Dal, you will not mind if I ask? Is itsettled yet?"
"I mind nothing you ask," Garth replied; "only be more explicit. Iswhat settled?"
"Are you and Miss Lister engaged?"
"No," Garth answered. "What made you suppose we should be?"
"You said at Overdene on Tuesday--TUESDAY! oh! doesn't it seem weeksago?--you said we were to take you seriously."
"It seems years ago," said Garth; "and I sincerely hope you will takeme--seriously. All the same I have not proposed to Miss Lister; and Iam anxious for an undisturbed talk with you on the subject. MissChampion, after dinner to-night, when all the games and amusements arein full swing, and we can escape unobserved, will you come out onto theterrace with me, where I shall be able to speak to you without fear ofinterruption? The moonlight on the lake is worth seeing from theterrace. I spent an hour out there last night--ah, no; you are wrongfor once--I spent it alone, when the boating was over, and thoughtof--how--to-night--we might be talking there together."
"Certainly I will come," said Jane; "and you must feel free to tell meanything you wish, and promise to let me advise or help in any way Ican."
"I will tell you everything," said Garth very low, "and you shalladvise and help as ONLY you can."
* * * * *
Jane sat on her window-sill, enjoying the sunset and the exquisiteview, and glad of a quiet half-hour before she need think of summoningher maid. Immediately below her ran the terrace, wide and gravelled,bounded by a broad stone parapet, behind which was a drop of eight orten feet to the old-fashioned garden, with quaint box-borderedflower-beds, winding walks, and stone fountains. Beyond, a stretch ofsmooth lawn sloping down to the lake, which now lay, a silver mirror,in the soft evening light. The stillness was so perfect; the sense ofpeace, so all-pervading. Jane held a book on her knee, but she was notreading. She was looking away to the distant woods beyond the lake;then to the pearly sky above, flecked with rosy clouds and streakedwith gleams of gold; and a sense of content, and gladness, andwell-being, filled her.
Presently she heard a light step on the gravel below and leaned forwardto see to whom it belonged. Garth had come out of the smoking-room andwalked briskly to and fro, once or twice. Then he threw himself into awicker seat just beneath her window, and sat there, smokingmeditatively. The fragrance of his cigarette reached Jane, up among themagnolia blossoms. "'Zenith,' Marcovitch," she said to herself, andsmiled. "Packed in jolly green boxes, twelve shillings a hundred! Imust remember in case I want to give him a Christmas present. By thenit will be difficult to find anything which has not already beenshowered upon him."
Garth flung away the end of his cigarette, and commenced humming belowhis breath; then gradually broke into words and sang softly, in hissweet barytone:
"'It is not mine to sing the stately grace, The great soul beaming in my lady's face.'"
The tones, though quiet, were so vibrant with passionate feeling, thatJane felt herself an eavesdropper. She hastily picked a large magnolialeaf and, leaning out, let it fall upon his head. Garth started, andlooked up. "Hullo!" he said. "YOU--up there?"
"Yes," said Jane, laughing down at him, and speaking low lest othercasements should be open, "I--up here. You are serenading the wrongwindow, dear 'devout lover.'"
"What a lot you know about it," remarked Garth, rather moodily.
"Don't I?" whispered Jane. "But you must not mind, Master Garthie,because you know how truly I care. In old Margery's absence, you mustlet me be mentor."
Garth sprang up and stood erect, looking up at her, half-amused,half-defiant.
"Shall I climb the magnolia?" he said. "I have heaps to say to youwhich cannot be shouted to the whole front of the house."
"Certainly not," replied Jane. "I don't want any Romeos coming in at mywindow. 'Hoity-toity! What next?' as Aunt 'Gina would say. Run alongand change your pinafore, Master Garthie. The 'heaps of things' mustkeep until to-night, or we shall both be late for dinner."
"All right," said Garth, "all right. But you will come out here thisevening, Miss Champion? And you will give me as long as I want?"
"I will come as soon as we can possibly escape," replied Jane; "and youcannot be more anxious to tell me everything than I am to hear it. Oh!the scent of these magnolias! And just look at the great whitetrumpets! Would you like one for your buttonhole?"
He gave her a wistful, whimsical little smile; then turned and wentindoors.
"Why do I feel so inclined to tease him?" mused Jane, as she moved,from the window. "Really it is I who have been silly this time; and he,staid and sensible. Myra is quite right. He is taking it veryseriously. And how about her? Ah! I hope she cares enough, and in theright way.--Come in, Matthews! And you can put out the gown I wore onthe night of the concert at Overdene, and we must make haste. We havejust twenty minutes. What a lovely evening! Before you do anythingelse, come and see this sunset on the lake. Ah! it is good to be here!"
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