The nearness of the date for the long voyage to the East came like a
surprise to the occupants of the Rectory and the Misses Twettenham's
establishment. Dr Bolter had come down to stay at the Rectory for a
few days, and somehow--no one could tell the manner of its happening--
the few days, with occasional lapses for business matters, had grown
into a few weeks, and still there seemed no likelihood of his leaving.
What was more, no one seemed to wish him to leave. He and the Reverend
Arthur went out on botanical rambles, and came back loaded with
specimens about which they discoursed all the evenings, while Miss
Rosebury sat and worked.
Upon sundry occasions the young ladies from Miss Twettenham's came over
to spend the day, when Grey would be treated by Miss Rosebury with
affectionate solicitude, and Helen with a grave courtesy that never
seemed to alter unless for the parties concerned to grow more distant.
With the Reverend Arthur, though, it was different. Upon the days of
these visits he was changed. His outward appearance was the same, but
there was a rapt, dreaminess pervading his actions and speech, and for
the greater portion of the time he would be silent.
Not that this was observed, for the doctor chatted and said enough for
all--telling stories, relating the experiences of himself and the curate
in the woods, while Helen sat back in her chair proud and listless, her
eyes half closed, and a languid look of _hauteur_ in her handsome face.
When addressed she would rouse herself for the moment, but sank back
into her proud listlessness directly, looking bored, and as if she
tolerated, because she could not help it, the jokes and sallies of the
doctor.
The incident of the tall, fair young man was dead and buried. Whatever
encouraging looks he may have had before, however his young love may
have begun to sprout, it had been cut off by the untimely frost of Helen
Perowne's indifference; for no matter how often he might waylay the
school during walks, he never now received a glance from the dark
beauty's eyes.
The unfortunate youth, after these meetings, would console himself with
the thought that he could place himself opposite in church, and there
dart appeal into her eyes; but the very first Sunday he went it was to
find that Helen had changed her seat, so that it was her back and not
her face at which he gazed.
A half-crown bestowed upon the pew-opener--young men at such times are
generous--remedied this difficulty, and in the afternoon he had secured
a seat opposite to Helen once again; but the next Sunday she had again
changed her place, and no matter how he tried, Helen always avoided his
gaze.
A month killed the tender passion, and the young gentleman disappeared
from Mayleyfield for good--at least so it is to be hoped, for no ill was
heard of the hapless youth, the first smitten down by Helen Perowne's
dark eyes.
"And I am very glad we never see him now," said Helen one day when they
were staying at the Rectory, and incidentally the troubles at Miss
Twettenham's were named.
"So am I," said Grey, quietly. "It was such a pity that you should have
noticed him at all."
"Nonsense! He was only a silly overgrown boy; but oh, Grey, child,"
cried Helen, in a burst of confidence, "isn't the Reverend Arthur
delicious?"
"Delicious?" replied Grey, gazing at her wonderingly. "I don't
understand you."
"Oh, nonsense! He is so droll-looking, so tall and thin, and so
attentive. I declare I feel sometimes as if I could make everyone my
slave."
"Oh! Helen, pray don't talk like that!" cried Grey, in alarm.
"Why not? Is a woman to be always wearing a pinafore and eating bread
and butter? I'm not a child now. Look, there comes Dr Bolter along
the lane. Stand back from the window, or he'll be blowing kisses at us,
or some nonsense. I declare I hate that man!"
"I like Dr Bolter," said Grey, quietly.
"Yes, you like everyone who is weak and stupid. Dr Bolter always
treats me as if I were a child. A silly, fat, dumpy little stupid;
feeling my pulse and making me put out my tongue. He makes my fingers
tingle to box his ears."
"I think Dr Bolter takes great interest in us," said Grey, slowly, and
she stood gazing through the open window of their bedroom at the figure
of the little doctor, as he came slowly down the lane, his eyes intent
upon the weeds, and every now and then making a dart at some plant
beneath the hedge, and evidently quite forgetful of his proximity to the
Rectory gate.
"Interest, yes!" cried Helen, who, in the retirement of their bedroom
threw off her languid ways, and seemed full of eagerness and animation.
"A nice prospect for us, cooped up on board ship with a man like that!
I declare I feel quite ashamed of him. I wonder what sort of people we
shall have as cabin passengers."
"They are sure to be nice," said Grey.
"There will be some officers," continued Helen; "and some of them are
sure to be young. I've heard of girls going out to India being engaged
to be married directly. I say, Miss Demure, what fun it would be if we
were to be engaged directly."
Grey Stuart looked at her old schoolfellow, half wondering at her
flippancy, half in pain, but Helen went on, as if getting rid of so much
vitality before having to resume her stiff, distant ways.
"Did you notice how silly the Reverend Arthur was last night?"
"No," replied Grey. "I thought he was very kind."
"I thought he was going down upon his knees to kiss my feet!" cried
Helen, with a mocking laugh; and her eyes sparkled and the colour came
brightly in her cheeks. "Oh, Grey, you little fair, soft, weak kitten
of a thing, why don't you wake up and try to show your power."
"Nelly, you surprise me!" cried Grey. "How can you talk so giddily, so
foolishly about such things."
"Because I am no longer a child," cried the girl, proudly, and she drew
herself up and walked backwards and forwards across the room. "Do you
suppose I do not know how handsome I am, and how people admire me?
Well, I'm not going to be always kept down. Look at the long, weary
years of misery we have had at that wretched school."
"Helen, you hurt me," said Grey. "Your words are cruel. No one could
have been kinder to us than the Miss Twettenhams."
"Kinder--nonsense! Treated us like infants; but it is over now, and I
mean to be free. Who is that on the gravel path? Oh! it's poor Miss
Rosebury. What a funny, sharp little body she is!"
"Always so kind and genial to us," said Grey.
"To you. She likes you as much as she detests me."
"Oh, Nelly!"
"She does; but not more than I detest her. She would not have me here
at all if she could help it."
"Oh! why do you say such things as that, Helen?"
"Because they are true. She does not like me because her brother is so
attentive; and she seemed quite annoyed yesterday when the doctor spent
so long feeling my pulse and talking his physic jargon to me. And--oh,
Grey, hush! Come gently--here, beside this curtain! Don't let them see
you! What a discovery! Let's go and fetch the Reverend Arthur to see
as well."
"Oh, Helen, how wild you are! What do you mean?"
"That!" whispered Helen, catching her schoolfellow tightly by the arm as
she wrenched her into position, so that she could look out of the little
flower-decked window. "What do I mean? Why that! See there!"