After the train had gone the big house was unbearably lonely, reft of
the all pervasive personality that dominated its moods of sunshine and
gloom. Early Sunday afternoon David passed through the wicket gate
and sought his neighbour in the summer house. One by one the other
Trenches joined them. For a time Sylvia went about with her brother,
examining old familiar objects, assuming charming attitudes, giving
vent to laughter that rippled in measured cadence. Theodora watched
her, wondering what kind of impression she was making. Sylvia was
like mamma--always sure of herself. Lary and Eileen were like papa.
And she--she wasn’t like anybody. Just a little remnant that had been
patched together, out of the left-overs of the other children.
She came out of her musings to hear her father say: “Mrs. Ascott, you
don’t know what it means to live with one person until that person
becomes part of your very body. When Vine is away.... I do everything
left-handed. It’s as if a piece of me was gone, here.” He slipped a
hand under his left arm, and his eyes smiled mournfully. “I am always
turning to look for her, and the vacancy makes me dizzy.”
How stupid to miss the first part of such a conversation! And now Lady
Judith wouldn’t say anything in reply--because the others were coming
for afternoon tea, with Nanny, an exaggerated cocoa girl in white cap
and apron, bearing a steaming samovar and a wide range of accessories
to suit the prejudice of those who preferred their Sunday afternoon
tipple hot or cold.
“It’s so foolish for the Fourth to come on Sunday--and have to save up
all your fire-crackers till to-morrow,” the child began disconsolately,
choosing a macaroon from the embarrassing variety of small cakes in the
silver basket. “Hal says the Governor can’t come; but there will be a
better orator to spread the eagle in the stadium. He didn’t ask me to
go with him and Eileen.”
“I thought all three of my daughters were going with me,” David
pleaded, his eyes seeking Eileen’s. But Sylvia dispensed with argument:
“No, mamma said I was to take Theo to the stadium with us. There isn’t
room for her in Hal’s little car. And besides, I know how I used to
hate to have the younger children tagging after me, when I was having
company. I’ve asked Dr. Schubert and Syd to join us, and they’ll come
home for a spread, after the celebration. Mrs. Ascott, I hope you’ll
come, too. I have already asked Hal. Syd has promised to help me with
the serving. He ought to make some woman a good husband--the training I
gave him when we were growing up.”