CHAPTER XVI.
CROQUET.
Lucia was permitted to form one of the players in the game of croquet,being escorted to and from the scene by Francis Barold. Perhaps itoccurred to Lady Theobald that the contrast of English reserve andmaidenliness with the free-and-easy manners of young women from Nevadamight lead to some good result.
"I trust your conduct will be such as to show that you at least haveresided in a civilized land," she said. "The men of the present day maypermit themselves to be amused by young persons whose demeanor mightbring a blush to the cheek of a woman of forty, but it is not their habitto regard them with serious intentions."
Lucia reddened. She did not speak, though she wished very much for thecourage to utter the words which rose to her lips. Lately she had foundthat now and then, at times when she was roused to anger, speeches ofquite a clever and sarcastic nature presented themselves to her mind. Shewas never equal to uttering them aloud; but she felt that in time shemight, because of course it was quite an advance in spirit to think them,and face, even in imagination, the probability of astounding and strikingLady Theobald dumb with their audacity.
"It ought to make me behave very well," she was saying now to herself,"to have before me the alternative of not being regarded with seriousintentions. I wonder if it is Mr. Poppleton or Francis Barold who mightnot regard me seriously. And I wonder if they are any coarser in Americathan we can be in England when we try."
She enjoyed the afternoon very much, particularly the latter part of it,when Mr. Burmistone, who was passing, came in, being invited by Octaviaacross the privet hedge. Having paid his respects to Miss Belinda, whosat playing propriety under a laburnum-tree, Mr. Burmistone crossed thegrass-plat to Lucia herself. She was awaiting her "turn," and laughing atthe ardent enthusiasm of Mr. Poppleton, who, under Octavia's direction,was devoting all his energies to the game: her eyes were bright, and shehad lost, for the time being, her timid air of feeling herself somehow inthe wrong.
"I am glad to see you here," said Mr. Burmistone.
"I am glad to be here," she answered. "It has been such a happyafternoon. Every thing has seemed so bright and--and different!"
"'Different' is a very good word," he said, laughing.
"It isn't a very bad one," she returned, "and it expresses a good deal."
"It does indeed," he commented.
"Look at Mr. Poppleton and Octavia," she began.
"Have you got to 'Octavia'?" he inquired.
She looked down and blushed.
"I shall not say 'Octavia' to grandmamma."
Then suddenly she glanced up at him.
"That is sly, isn't it?" she said. "Sometimes I think I am very sly,though I am sure it is not my nature to be so. I would rather be openand candid."
"It would be better," he remarked.
"You think so?" she asked eagerly.
He could not help smiling.
"Do you ever tell untruths to Lady Theobald?" he inquired. "If you do, Ishall begin to be alarmed."
"I act them," she said, blushing more deeply. "I really do--paltry sortsof untruths, you know; pretending to agree with her when I don't;pretending to like things a little when I hate them. I have been tryingto improve myself lately, and once or twice it has made her very angry.She says I am disobedient and disrespectful. She asked me, one day, if itwas my intention to emulate Miss Octavia Bassett. That was when I said Icould not help feeling that I had wasted time in practising."
She sighed softly as she ended.
In the mean time Octavia had Mr. Poppleton and Mr. Francis Barold uponher hands, and was endeavoring to do her duty as hostess by both of them.If it had been her intention to captivate these gentlemen, she could nothave complained that Mr. Poppleton was wary or difficult game. His firstfears allayed, his downward path was smooth, and rapid in proportion.When he had taken his departure with the little silk purse in hiskeeping, he had carried under his clerical vest a warmed and thrilledheart. It was a heart which, it must be confessed, was of the mostinexperienced and susceptible nature. A little man of affectionate andgentle disposition, he had been given from his earliest youth toindulging in timid dreams of mild future bliss,--of bliss represented bysome lovely being whose ideals were similar to his own, and who preferredthe wealth of a true affection to the glitter of the giddy throng. Uponone or two occasions, he had even worshipped from afar; but as on each ofthese occasions his hopes had been nipped in the bud by the union oftheir object with some hollow worldling, his dream had, so far, neverattained very serious proportions. Since he had taken up his abode inSlowbridge, he had felt himself a little overpowered by circumstances. Ithad been a source of painful embarrassment to him, to find his innocentpresence capable of producing confusion in the breasts of young ladieswho were certainly not more guileless than himself. He had been consciousthat the Misses Egerton did not continue their conversation with freedomwhen he chanced to approach the group they graced; and he had observedthe same thing in their companions,--an additional circumspection ofdemeanor, so to speak, a touch of new decorum, whose object seemed to beto protect them from any appearance of imprudence.
"It is almost as if they were afraid of me," he had said to himself onceor twice. "Dear me! I hope there is nothing in my appearance to leadthem to"--
He was so much alarmed by this dreadful thought, that he had everafterward approached any of these young ladies with a fear and tremblingwhich had not added either to his comfort or their own; consequently hispath had not been a very smooth one.
"I respect the young ladies of Slowbridge," he remarked to Octavia thatvery afternoon. "There are some very remarkable young ladies here,--veryremarkable indeed. They are interested in the church, and the poor, andthe schools, and, indeed, in every thing, which is most unselfish andamiable. Young ladies have usually so much to distract their attentionfrom such matters."
"If I stay long enough in Slowbridge," said Octavia, "I shall beinterested in the church, and the poor, and the schools."
It seemed to the curate that there had never been any thing so delightfulin the world as her laugh and her unusual remarks. She seemed to him sobeautiful, and so exhilarating, that he forgot all else but hisadmiration for her. He enjoyed himself so much this afternoon, that hewas almost brilliant, and excited the sarcastic comment of Mr. FrancisBarold, who was not enjoying himself at all.
"Confound it!" said that gentleman to himself, as he looked on. "What didI come here for? This style of thing is just what I might have expected.She is amusing herself with that poor little cad now, and I am left inthe cold. I suppose that is her habit with the young men in Nevada."
He had no intention of entering the lists with the Rev. Arthur Poppleton,or of concealing the fact that he felt that this little Nevada flirt wasmaking a blunder. The sooner she knew it, the better for herself; so heplayed his game as badly as possible, and with much dignity.
But Octavia was so deeply interested in Mr. Poppleton's ardent effortsto do credit to her teaching, that she was apparently unconscious ofall else. She played with great cleverness, and carried her partner tothe terminus, with an eager enjoyment of her skill quite pleasant tobehold. She made little darts here and there, advised, directed, andcontrolled his movements, and was quite dramatic in a small way when hemade a failure.
Mrs. Burnham, who was superintending the proceeding, seated in her owneasy-chair behind her window-curtains, was roused to virtuous indignationby her energy.
"There is no repose whatever in her manner," she said. "No dignity. Is agame of croquet a matter of deep moment? It seems to me that it is almostimpious to devote one's mind so wholly to a mere means of recreation."
"She seems to be enjoying it, mamma," said Miss Laura Burnham, with afaint sigh. Miss Laura had been looking on over her parent's shoulder."They all seem to be enjoying it. See how Lucia Gaston and Mr. Burmistoneare laughing. I never saw Lucia look like that before. The only one whoseems a little dull is Mr. Barold."
"He is probably disgusted by a
freedom of manner to which he is notaccustomed," replied Mrs. Burnham. "The only wonder is that he has notbeen disgusted by it before."
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