'A face in a crowd, a glance, a droop of the lashes,
and all is said.'--MARION CRAWFORD.
It is some days later, and having a ball in prospect, Mrs Seaton has
left Philippa to rest, whilst she goes on a round of visits; and
Philippa, nothing loth, settles herself comfortably on the sofa with a
book, and prepares to enjoy a lazy afternoon, but she is destined to
interruption. The door suddenly bursts open and Teddy flies in, with
'Oh, Aunt Lippa, will you come into the Square with me. Marie's sister
has come to see her and it would be kind to let them be together, don't
you think--'
Lippa feels inclined to suggest that it would be just as kind to let her
alone, but she refrains and merely says 'Well?'
'Will you?' asks the little boy, emphasizing his words by leaning
heavily against his aunt. 'You see,' he continues, 'I do feel sometimes
lonely, 'cos Marie's old and won't run, and I think you look as if you
could--'
'I have done so in the course of my life,' she answers laughing, 'and I
might be able to do so again.'
'Then you will try this afternoon, won't you?' this very coaxingly.
'Marie had better walk with us there, but it's such a little way we can
come back by ourselves, can't we.'
'Yes; I should think so,' says Philippa.
'Then I'll just go and get my hat,' and Teddy, pausing at the door,
adds. 'Do you know I think you're a very good aunt for a boy to have.'
'Indeed?' and Lippa laughs.
She finds it quite as pleasant sitting under a shady tree in the Square,
as on the sofa in Brook Street; and her nephew does not require her to
run, having found another companion in the person of a fat, very plain
little girl; but after some time she has to go home, and Teddy having
worried the life out of a stray cat, returns to his aunt, with a red,
smutty face.
'Well,' he says, 'I am so hot, what shall I do to get cool--'
'Sit still,' suggests Lippa.
'Oh no, that'd make me heaps hotter, oh! there's Joseph,' and away flies
Teddy. Joseph is an old gardener whose business it is to keep the paths
in order, and of whom most of the square live in wholesome awe, not so
Teddy, he loves him dearly and will talk as long as the old man has time
to listen, this afternoon he is busy and Teddy soon returns again to the
seat.
'He's such a dear old man,' he says, nodding in the direction the
gardener has taken, 'a dear old man, but he has a terrible cough, and he
doesn't know anything that will cure it.'
'Poor old man,' she answers, 'but really Teddy you _must_ sit still, you
are so hot, and jumping up and down like that shakes me all over.'
'Does it?' he says, innocently. 'I'll sit still if you'll tell me
something, but perhaps I'd better tell you something first. Did you ever
know that I had a sister?'
Lippa nods.
'Oh!' he says, 'well then perhaps you knew that her name was Lilian, and
she was lost.'
'Yes,' replies Philippa, 'I knew all about her; you see your father is
my brother, so of course I know all about you.'
'Not everything,' says Teddy, confidently, 'you don't know that I'm
feeling rather empty, not 'xactly hungry but as if I could eat my tea.'
'Well, I dare say it is time to go in,' says his aunt, 'and if you will
cease to sit on my feet I will get up.'
Teddy rises with alacrity, and not till they get to the square gate do
they remember they have not got the key. 'How tiresome,' ejaculates
Philippa.
But Teddy who is always full of resources, departs in the hope of
finding Joseph or some one who has a key, but alas they are the only
occupants of the square, what is to be done. They stand gazing
helplessly over the gate, Philippa looking uncommonly pretty in a light
gown that fits to perfection, and her large black hat adorned with red
poppies, 'I wonder who she is,' thinks a gentleman who has already
passed them twice, and is contemplating turning back to see her again.
But he hears his name called in a shrill voice, 'Captain Harkness,
Cap-ta-i-n H-a-r-kness!' He turns round hastily and sees Teddy waving
frantically over the gate.
'Well, little boy,' he says, 'what is the matter? eh!'
'We can't get out, Aunt Lippa and I, we've forgotten the key, do go to
mother and ask her for it.'
Captain Harkness turns to Philippa and raising his hat, says, 'I shall
be very pleased if I can be of any service to you, I was just on my way
to see Mrs Seaton.'
'If you could get the key,' replies she, 'it would be most kind.'
'Not at all,' says he, still wondering who she is, 'I will not be long,'
and he is as good as his word, reappearing with the key and setting them
free, when they return to Brook Street.
'My dear child,' says Mabel, addressing Lippa, as they enter the
drawing-room, 'how very foolish of you to lock yourselves up like that.
I was getting quite uneasy about you, but come and have some tea, and
you Teddy go upstairs to yours, Captain Harkness now let me introduce
you properly to my sister-in-law.'
Philippa smiles and Captain Harkness congratulates himself on his
afternoon adventure.
Eleven o'clock sees Mabel and Philippa on their way to the ball, not
having been to many she has not become _blasée_, but enjoys herself
thoroughly. It is still early when they reach their destination, and Mrs
Seaton is enabled to find a seat in a good place for seeing, almost
opposite the door. Lady Dadford followed by her daughter soon puts in an
appearance and makes for them at once.
'Well, Mabel, my dear,' she begins, 'so glad to have found you here, how
do you do, Philippa, you are not done up yet, I see, and you look
charming, what a sweet dress you have, and I do believe you have not
been introduced to my boy yet, I am afraid he isn't coming here
to-night, he's such a dear boy, my Helmdon, I'm sure you will like him.
But where's Anne, ah! dancing already, the dear child, she does do it so
well,' and with a benign smile on her kind old face, Lady Dadford seats
herself by Mabel.
Miss Seaton's partners claim her one after the other; they have very
little individuality to her, of course some are better dancers than the
others, but caring for one more than another, would be quite impossible
she tells herself. Why is it then that suddenly as she catches sight of
a certain brown head in the doorway, she smiles, and when the owner
comes towards her feels just a little thrill of pleasure.
Ah! Miss Seaton let me warn you, don't pretend to care for _none_ of
them, for that thrill does not come without some cause, and almost
before you are aware of it, you will find that your heart is not your
own, you know quite well that Jimmy Dalrymple has found favour in your
eyes, and you know too, that with very little trouble you could bewitch
him. Do not play with edged tools.
Lippa waltzes off with him through the crowded room and just a little
sigh escapes her as the music stops.
'Where would you like to go to?' asks he. 'To supper or the garden?'
'Oh, the garden,' says Miss Seaton, 'fancy naming them together. Supper
is such a very prosaic affair,' and then as they enter the garden, 'One
could almost imagine oneself miles away from London here.'
'They have arranged it awfully well,' says Dalrymple, gazing round on
the illuminated parterres, and then, 'would you like to sit or shall we
walk about?'
'Walk, I think,' replies Philippa, and so they wander on, talking about
nothing in particular, and yet they both forget that there are such
things as sleep and to-morrow. Having come to the end of a narrow path,
and finding two empty chairs they remain there. The lights are dim and
the people passing and repassing are scarcely recognisable, but
presently a lady in a light blue gown attracts Lippa's attention. 'Who
is she?' she says.
Dalrymple turns and looks at her. They hear a murmured sentence and then
'Eh, what!' in rather an unmistakeable tone.
'Oh, her partner is Helmdon,' says Jimmy, 'he's never to be mistaken
with his _what_. The lady, I think, is Mrs Standish, an American widow,
and therefore rolling in riches. I never knew an American widow who
wasn't.'
'It would be very nice,' says Lippa.
'What! to be an American widow?'
She laughs. 'No! to be very rich; there would be no need to think twice
as to whether you could afford anything--'
'What a great many useless things you would get,' says Dalrymple.
'Really! but why?'
'I did not mean you in particular,' he protests. 'I assure you I didn't;
but there are a great many useless things in the shops, which I suppose
people buy. What is the matter, Miss Seaton? For Philippa has risen
hastily with a little scream. 'There's something under my chair, I felt
it move,' she says, woman-like raising her skirt.
Dalrymple bends down, kneel he could not in his best evening trousers,
'I don't see anything,' he says, peering about and nearly choking for
his collar is high and somewhat tight. _Il faut souffrir pour être
beau.'_
'Oh, but you must,' persists Lippa. 'I felt it move.'
'Wait a second,' says he, producing a match, and proceeding to light it
on the sole of his pump; they are all alone in this part of the garden,
and nobody is watching them, the match will not ignite at first and then
they both bend down at once nearly upsetting each other, and behold
calmly blinking at them a large black cat. This is too much for Jimmy
who gives way to suppressed laughter, the match goes out, and Miss
Seaton though inwardly convulsed thinks proper to assume an air of
dignity. 'I think I had better go back to the ball-room,' says she.
Jimmy vaguely feeling he has done something he ought not to, says; 'I-er
beg your pardon, I'm awfully sorry--'
'What for?' asks Lippa, stroking her right arm with her left hand.
Jimmy considers for a moment wondering what he had better say, and then
suddenly seized with an inspiration 'I do believe I hurt you,' he says,
'the match didn't touch you, did it?'
'No; but _you_ did,' replies she, and then seeing the consternation
depicted on his face, Miss Seaton smiles, and then they both laugh.
'You know, you really might have knocked me over,' she says
pathetically.
'I can't tell you how sorry I am,' exclaims Dalrymple, gently taking
possession of the injured arm; 'please forgive me?'
'I'll try,' she says,--'I wonder what has happened to the cat--'
They are nearing the ball-room, and he finding this _tête-à-tête_ very
pleasant wishes to prolong it and says, 'Shall we go back and see?'
'I think I am engaged for this dance,' says Lippa, knowing Mabel will be
wondering what has become of her.
'You'll let me have another?' asks Jimmy, eagerly.
'Certainly,' replies she; 'only, no more cat-finding. I can't bear them,
can you?'
'Can't endure them,' says Dalrymple, who would agree with whatever she
said.
That night, or I should say next morning, when Miss Seaton retires to
rest, a certain brown head figures prominently in her dreams, together
with searching after huge monsters, who all bear a resemblance to Lady
Dadford. And even when awake the brown head is a subject for deep
thought, and it is with a bright, happy face Miss Seaton appears (though
somewhat late) at the breakfast table.