CHAPTER TWELVE.
AN UNPLEASANT TEA-PARTY.
In the inevitable fatigue which had marked Claire's first experience ofregular work, she had looked forward with joy to the coming of theholidays when she would be able to take her ease, and for a month on endlaze through the hours at her own sweet will. A teacher scores aboveother workers in the length of holidays she enjoys. Several months inthe year contrasts strongly with the fortnight or three weeks enjoyed bya female clerk or typist; in no other profession is so large aproportion of the year given to rest.
Claire had condemned the staff at Saint Cuthbert's for want ofappreciation of this privilege; but, before the four weeks of theChristmas holidays were over, her eyes were opened to the other side ofthe picture. Holidays were horribly expensive! Living "at home" meantan added bill for fire and light to add to the necessary expensesabroad; that the last items were necessary could hardly be denied, for agirl who had been shut up in a schoolroom through three months of term,naturally wished to amuse herself abroad during holiday time, and inLondon even the most carefully planned amusement has a habit of costingmoney.
Even that mild dissipation of shop-gazing, enjoyed by Sophie Blake, plusthe additional excitement of choosing an imaginary present from everywindow, could only be enjoyed at the price of two Tube or omnibus fares.Boots wore out, too, and gloves grew shabby, and the January salesfurnished a very fire of temptation. Claire had never before seen suchbargains as confronted her down the length of Oxford and Regent Streets,and, though she might be firm as adamant on Monday or Tuesday, Wednesdaywas bound to bring about a weak moment which carried her over thethreshold of a shop, and once inside, with sensational sacrificesdangling within reach, resistance melted like wax.
"Where do you suppose you are going to wear that concoction?" MaryRhodes asked blightingly as Claire opened a cardboard box which hadarrived by the morning delivery, and displayed a blue muslin dress insetwith lace. "Lords, I suppose, or Ascot, or Ranelagh, or Hurlingham, orHenley... They come on in June and July, just as poor High School-mistresses are in the thick of cramming for the Matric. But _no_ doubtyou are the exception to the rule! ... You must think you are, atleast, to have bought a frock like that!"
"Cecil, it was wickedly cheap--it was, indeed! It was one of a fewsummer dresses which were positively given away, and it's made in thesimple, picturesque style which I love, and which does not go out ofdate. I hadn't the least intention of buying anything, until I saw ithanging there, at that price, and it looked at me so longingly, as if it_wanted_ to come!"
"It's well to be rich! It might have longed at me as much as it liked,I couldn't have bought it, if it had been two-and-six! I need all mymoney for necessities," Mary Rhodes said, sighing; and Claire felt apang of reproach, for, since her return, Cecil had indeed seemedpainfully short of loose cash. The debt still outstanding had beenincreased by various small borrowings, insignificant in themselves, yetimportant as showing how the wind blew. Claire wondered if perchancethe poor soul had crippled herself by presenting her lover with aChristmas gift which was beyond her means.
The third week of the holidays arrived; in another week school wouldbegin. Claire succumbed to temptation once more, purchased two goodtickets for an afternoon concert at the Queen's Hall, and invited Cecilto be her guest. Cecil hesitated, evidently torn between twoattractions, asked permission to defer her answer until the next day,but finally decided to accept. From remarks dropped from time to timeClaire had gathered that Major Carew was not fond of indoorentertainments, and somewhat disappointed his _fiancee_ by hisunwillingness to indulge her wishes in that respect. In this instanceshe had evidently balanced the concert against an afternoon in theMajor's society, and the concert had won. Claire found herselfcordially in agreement.
When the afternoon arrived the two girls arrayed themselves in theirbest clothes, and set off in high spirits for their afternoon'samusement. Their seats were in a good position, and the concert was oneof the best of the season. All went as happily as it could possibly go,until the last strains of "God save the King" had been played, and theaudience filed out of the hall on to the crowded pavement, and then,with a throb of disgust, Claire recognised the figure of a man who wasstanding directly beneath a lamp-post, his black eyes curiously scanningthe passing stream--Major Carew! He had evidently been told of thegirls' destination, and had come with the express purpose of meetingthem coming out. For the moment, however, they were unrecognised, andClaire gave a quick swerve to the right, hurrying out of the patch oflight into the dimness beyond. The street was so full that, given aminute's start, it would surely be easy to escape. She slid her handthrough Cecil's arm, drawing her forward.
"Come along! Come along! Let's hurry to Fuller's before all the tablesare taken!"
"Fuller's? Tea? How scrumptious! Just what I longed for. Listeningto classical music _is_ thirsty work!" Cecil replied, laughing. Shewas so lively, so natural and unconcerted that Claire absolved her onthe moment from any arrangement as to a _rendez-vous_. In her anxietyto secure the longed-for cup of tea she broke into a half-run, but itwas too late; the sharp black eyes had spied them out, the tall figureloomed by their side, the large face, with its florid colouring, smileda broad smile of welcome.
"Hulloa, Mary! Thought it was you. I was just passing along. Goodafternoon, Miss Gifford. It _is_ Miss Gifford, isn't it? Had a goodconcert, I hope--a pleasant afternoon?"
"Very good, thank you," said Claire shortly.
Mary cried, "Oh, Frank! _You_! How did you come? I didn't expect--"And the tone of her voice showed that the surprise was hardly moreagreeable to her than to her companion. However welcome her lover mightbe on other occasions, it was obvious that she had not wished to see himat this particular moment.
"Well, well, we must move on; we mustn't block up the pavement," theMajor said hastily. He took his place by the kerb, which placed himnext to Claire, and bent over with an assiduous air. "You must let meescort you! Where were you bound for next?"
Claire hesitated. She wished with all her heart that she had notmentioned Fuller's, so that she could reply that they were bound for theTube. Oxford Circus was only a step away; in five minutes they couldhave been seated in the train; but Cecil had declared that she waslonging for tea, so it would be ungracious to withdraw the invitation.
"We were going to Fuller's."
"Right!" The Major's tone was complacent. "Good idea! How shall wego? Taxi? Tube? Which do you prefer?"
Claire stared at him in surprise.
"But it's here! Quite close. We're nearly there."
He looked disconcerted, unnecessarily disconcerted, Claire thought; forit was surely no disgrace for a man to be ignorant of the locality of aconfectioner's shop! From the other side came Cecil's voice, cool andconstrained--
"If you were going anywhere, Frank, you needn't stay with us. We canlook after each other. We are accustomed to going about alone."
"Please allow me the pleasure. There's plenty of time. I should enjoysome tea immensely. Always take it when I get the chance!"
The block on the pavement made consecutive conversation impossible, andthe three edged their way in and out in silence until Fuller's wasreached, and one of the last tables secured. The room looked verybright and dainty, the Christmas garlands still festooning the walls andframing the mirrors, the hanging lights covered by rose-coloured shades.The soft pink light was very kind to the complexions of the visitors,nevertheless Claire felt a guilty pang as she looked into the nearestmirror and beheld the reflection of herself and her friend as they satside by side. As a rule, it was pure pleasure to realise her own fairlooks; but for the moment they were of no importance, whereas poor dearCecil had a lover to please, and there was no denying Cecil was notlooking her best! Her expression was frowning and dissatisfied. Shehad taken off her veil in the hall and her hair was disarranged;compared with the fashionable groups round the other tables, she lookedsuddenly shabby and insigni
ficant, her little attempts at decorationpitifully betraying the amateur hand.
"Oh, dear me, why _won't_ she smile? She looks quite pretty when shesmiles. I'll hold her before a mirror some day and show her thedifference it makes. Ten years disappear in a flash! Now what in theworld had I better be--agreeable and chatty, or cold and stand-off?I'll do anything to please her, but it _is_ hard lines having ourafternoon spoiled, and being sulked at into the bargain. Cakes,please--lots of sweet, sugary cakes! Won't that do, Cecil? We can havebread-and-butter at home!"
"Cecil! Cecil! Her name is Mary. Why do you call her Cecil?" criedthe Major quickly, looking from one girl to another. Claire fanciedthere was a touch of suspicion in his voice, and wondered that he shouldshow so much interest in a mere nickname.
"Because she is `Rhodes,' of course."
For a moment his stare showed no understanding, then, "Oh! that fellow!"he said slowly. "I see! It's a pretty name anyway. Beats Mary tofits. Mary is so dull and prosaic. Too many of them about. One getssick of the sound."
"Is that intended for me by any chance?" asked Cecil in her most acidtones, whereupon the Major cried, "Oh! Put my foot in it that time,didn't I?" and burst into a long guffaw of laughter, which brought onhim the eyes of the surrounders.
Claire's interest had already been aroused by a little party of two menand two women who were sitting at a table in the corner of the room, andwho were, to her thinking, by far the most attractive personalitiespresent. The men were tall, well set up, not especially handsome in anyway, but possessing an unmistakable look of breeding. One of the womenwas old, the other young, and it would have been hard to say which wasthe more attractive of the two. They were quietly but very elegantlydressed, handsome furs being thrown back, to show pretty bodices ofninon and lace.
When Major Carew gave that loud unrestrained laugh, the four members ofthis attractive party turned to see whence the sound arose; but whereasthree faces remained blankly indifferent, the fourth was in the momenttransformed into an expression of the liveliest surprise. He stared,narrowing his eyes as if doubting that they were really seeing aright,twisted his head to get a fuller view, and, obtaining it, twisted backinto his original position, his lips twitching with laughter. Then hespoke a few words, his companions leant forward to listen, and to twofaces out of the three, the laughter spread on hearing what he had tosay.
Only the elder of the two ladies retained her gravity. Her sweet glancerested on Claire's face, and her brow contracted in distress. In theMajor and Cecil she showed no interest, but Claire's appearanceevidently aroused curiosity and pity. "What is _she_ doing in that_galere_?" The question was written on every line of the sweet high-bred face, and Claire read its significance and flinched with distaste.
"How they stare!" cried Mary Rhodes. "The man looked as if he knew you,Frank. Do you know who he is?"
"He's a member of the Club. His name is Vavasour. We know each otherby sight." Major Carew's florid colour had grown a shade deeper, he wasevidently disconcerted by the encounter; but he made a strong effort toregain his composure, smiled at the two girls in turn, and criedlightly, "Envies me, I suppose, seeing me with two such charmers!"
"He didn't look exactly envious!" Cecil said drily. She also hadnoticed that reflection in the mirror, and it had not helped to sootheher spirits. She felt an unreasoning anger against Claire for appearingmore attractive than herself, but it did not occur to her that she washeightening the contrast by her own dour, ungracious manner. Altogetherthat tea-party was a difficult occasion, and as it proceeded, Claire'sspirits sank ever lower and lower. She had spent more than she had anyright to afford on those two expensive tickets, hoping thereby to givepleasure, and now Cecil was in a bad temper, and would snap for days tocome.--It was not a cheerful outlook, and for the second time a feelingof restiveness overtook her, a longing for a companion who would helpthe gaiety of life--such a companion as pretty, lively, happy-go-luckySophie Blake, for example. How refreshing it would be to live withSophie! Just for a moment Claire dwelt wistfully on the possibility,then banished it with a loyal "She doesn't need me, and Cecil does.She's fond of me in her funny way. She must be, for she has confided inme already, more than in any of the others whom she's known for years,and perhaps I may be able to help..."
The Major passed his cup for a second supply; a waitress brought a plateof hot cakes; the occupants of the corner table stood up, fastening fursand coats, and passed out of the door. With their going Major Carewregained his vivacity, chaffed the girls on their silence, recounted thelatest funny stories, and to Claire's relief addressed himself primarilyto his _fiancee_, thus putting her in the place of honour.
Nevertheless Claire was conscious that from time to time keen glanceswere cast in her own direction. She had a feeling that no detail of herattire escaped scrutiny, that the black eyes noted one and all,wondered, and speculated, and appraised. She saw them dwell on thehandsome fur stole and muff which Mrs Judge bequeathed to her daughteron sailing for India, on the old diamond ring and brooch which had beenhanded over to her on her twenty-first birthday; she had an instinctivefeeling that she rose in the man's estimation because of her air ofprosperity. He made tentative efforts to arrange a further meeting."Where do _you_ go on Sundays, Miss Gifford? I say, we must arrangeanother tea like this. Lots of good tea places in town. We must samplethem together. What do you say, Miss Gifford?"
Claire's answers were politely evasive, and presently he began to growrestless, and finally pulled out his watch, and jumped to his feet.
"How time flies! I had no idea it was so late. I must run. So sorryto leave you like this."
Mary Rhodes stared in surprise.
"Leave! Frank! But you said--I thought we were going--"
"Yes, I know, I know. I'm sorry, I thought I was free--but--aregimental engagement! Can't get out of it. I'll fix up another night.I'll write."
There was no doubt that he was genuinely disconcerted at the lateness ofthe hour, and his leave-taking was of the most hasty description, thoughhe found time to give a lingering pressure to Claire's hand; then he wasgone, and the waitress came across the room and presented the bill.
Cecil flushed uncomfortably.
"I must pay this. Frank has forgotten. He rushed off in such a hurry."
She pulled out her shabby purse, and Claire made no protest. In asimilar position she herself would have wished to pay, but it wasinconceivable that she should ever be in such a position. Howeverhurried a man might be-- She rubbed her hand on her knee with a littleshudder of distaste. "Wretch! He would make love to me, too, if Iwould allow it! How can Cecil possibly care for such a man?"
And then she forgot Cecil's feelings to ponder on a more perplexingproblem.
Why had the man called Vavasour looked so amused, and why had the sweet-faced woman looked so distressed?
The Independence of Claire Page 12
