Mrs. Hesketh and her goddaughter had always been secretly antagonistic
to one another, and as days went by, this feeling increased--especially
on the side of the girl, who, from a reluctant parent, had extracted
the fact that the meddling old woman suggested sending her for one year
to an English school! Nevertheless she dissembled her sentiments,--for
the old hag was rich and had it in her power to offer motor trips by
land and water, and to give delightful _déjeuners_ and dinners at the
various fashionable hotels. Naturally all these pleasures were for
the sake of the Mum--but she participated! At this season (early in
July) Lucerne was already full, and Cara, erect, well dressed, and
self-conscious, was sensible of being the admired of many eyes, as she
accompanied her two chaperons. Occasionally she left them, and escaped
to join her own friends, Colette Vadier, Freda Muller, and Berthe Baer,
in picnics and teas. Her society was not missed, as her mother and
godmother had many matters to discuss, that were not intended for her
ears.
How and where the Glyns were to live? was a question seriously debated.
Letty still figuratively clung to the Continent, and Mrs. Hesketh
and Cara--for once in accord--were strongly in favour of a home in
England. On this subject, the girl and her godmother, had some talks,
and on one of these rare occasions, Cara posed as the poor exile,
craving to see her native land, and to live like other young women of
her age and nation.
“Dear godmother,” she said effusively, “how I wish you would use your
influence with the Mum!” Then, leaning her elbows on her knees, locking
her hands, and assuming a confidential attitude, she added, “To me, it
always seems so strange that we have no English belongings, no letters
except yours, and we have lived at Les Plans for thirteen years! It
almost looks”--she spoke with bated breath, staring into her listener’s
face with eyes as hard as two blue glass marbles--“as if--of course,
only to you would I breathe it----”
“Well, breathe it!” urged Mrs. Hesketh impatiently.
“As if,” and Cara’s voice fell to an awed whisper, “Mummy had--_done_
something!”
Her godmother examined the girl from under her beautifully marked
brows, with a cold and critical scrutiny. Was it for this disloyal
wretch, that poor Letty had sacrificed youth, and love, and country?
Her face was rigid as she answered:
“Your mother has her own excellent reasons for living abroad. This life
of labour and self-denial has been for your sake; for you, she has made
great sacrifices. I hope you are grateful, Cara?”
“Oh, yes,” with a shrug; “_cela va sans dire_; but I’m her only child,
and it’s her business to look after me. Of course, she can’t help
being poor, or afford to give me a good time, but I’m sure we could
struggle along somehow in London. I’ve heard that it’s the cheapest
place in the world, and I am so deadly sick of that odious Les Plans,
with its horrible smell of cows and cheese; when there is a hitch about
supplies, we have sausages, and smoked meat, and nasty Swiss messes.
And, oh, I’m so tired of looking out on the opposite shore of the lake,
with its black woods, grey mountains, and skim-milk sky. Give _me_ a
good street!”
“But, after all, Cara, you are not much at home; latterly you have
lived chiefly in Lucerne, and I know you have visited Berne, Zurich,
Interlaken, and Lugano.”
“Yes--Switzerland--_toujours Suisse_! I am crazy to get out of this
corner, and to see the world.”
“You cannot expect to see much of the world on two hundred a year, can
you? and you should think of your mother.”
“Of course, but the Mum--well, she is no longer young, and she has had
_her_ day--now I want to have mine!”
So poor Letty’s attempts to satisfy the girl had been a failure; the
influence of devotion, self-sacrifice, and example, was powerless
against the giant Heredity.
In mid-July there was a grand fête in Lucerne, and Mrs. Hesketh invited
Letty and her encumbrance to a concert at the Casino, dinner at the
National, and subsequently to see the illuminations, and return home by
motor-boat.
This programme was faithfully accomplished; at dinner in the
restaurant of the hotel, Letty and her girl, were distinguished among a
vast cosmopolitan crowd. When their coffee-cups had been emptied, Cara,
in her most persuasive manner, asked leave to run away.
“I want,” she said, “to go up to the Drei Linden and sit with Berthe,
who is ill in bed with an abscess in her face. I’ll be back before you
know I’m gone; I’ve seen the fireworks, and the lighting up of the old
bridge, a thousand times, so if I’m late, please don’t worry. I shall
probably stay and try to cheer up poor old Berthe.”
“But, my dear Cara, should you be going about _alone_ at this hour?”
asked Mrs. Hesketh in a tone of alarm.
“What--in Lucerne! I should hope so. I know it from end to end, and I
shall be perfectly _safe_, if that is why you are anxious.”
When Cara had resumed her hat and scarf, the two ladies walked with
her to the entrance of the hotel, and watched her trip across the
tram-line, and vanish by the corner of the English church.
“You see, the child has a kind heart,” said Letty, “and is ready to
give up a gay evening, to go and sit with her sick friend.”
“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Hesketh; “I own I am----” she was about to say
‘surprised,’ but hastily substituted the word ‘impressed.’ “Now, we may
as well go on the Quai, and see what is to be seen.”
As it happened there was a good deal to be seen, not merely the
fiery outline of the bridge and towers, the lights on Pilatus and
Stanserhorn, but numbers of lively little boats carrying Chinese
lanterns; they looked like swarms of fire-flies. The Quai was almost
impassable, so thronged was it with a gay, gaily dressed, chattering
crowd; sightseers, townsfolk, and the contents of various hotels, were
all enjoying the brilliant scene, and the delicious evening.
The two friends were interested and amused: time passed quickly, the
Hof Kirche clock struck ten, and yet there was no sign of Cara. She had
been gone considerably more than an hour,--an hour and a half.
“At what time did you order the motor-boat?” asked Letty, who began to
be uneasy. As Mrs. Hesketh uttered the word ‘eleven’ a sudden flood
of rose-coloured light illuminated the entire scene. For a moment,
every object was visible with the clearest distinctness, the ruddy
glow recalled a transformation spectacle. By its assistance, the
ladies beheld, close at hand, a small skiff carrying a jaunty orange
lantern, and in the boat were a young couple; a man, who was twanging
a mandoline, whilst a laughing girl managed the oars with practised
dexterity. All at once the man bent towards her--and then the light
failed.
Letty gave an audible gasp.
“I--could I be mistaken?” She turned on her companion a face of horror.
“No, I’m afraid not. Four eyes are better than two--that was Cara
rowing about with--Berthe Baer! From what I have gathered in the few
days I’ve been at the Paradis, Cara has been throwing dust in your
eyes for years.”
“Oh, Cousin Maude--you--you--talk to Tomlin!” cried Letty with
indignation.
“No, my dear, but Frau Hurter has been talking to _me_. Her son’s
raging jealousy aroused her suspicions, and she has kept her eyes open.”
“But Cara is only a foolish, wild, headstrong child!”
“Child no longer, Letty, but a young woman who is not to be trusted.”
“What am I to do?” faltered her friend helplessly.
“At present, nothing; you must take a leaf out of Cara’s book, and
pretend we have not seen her--remember that.”
And in accordance with this advice, no remark was made when twenty
minutes later, a breathless Cara scrambled into the motor-boat, full of
voluble excuses and soft caresses for her sweet Mum. “Berthe had been
so ill and miserable--she had not dared to leave her till she slept.
She knew her darling Mum would forgive her, and she had run every step
of the way down the Drei Linden, and nearly broken her neck!”
As the motor-boat squattered off from the stage, a figure stepped out
from under the trees, waving a handkerchief, and a manly voice shouted
a hearty “_Auf wiedersehen!_”
“What a funny man! Who is he shouting to? Were the illuminations good?”
enquired the still breathless Cara with an air of innocent curiosity.
“Yes, I think so,” replied Mrs. Hesketh.
“And were there the usual little boats with lanterns?”
Here indeed was audacity!
“Oh, yes, the usual little boats.”
“I’ve not missed much--nothing strange or uncommon?”
“Oh, yes, there was,” began Mrs. Hesketh, speaking with rash
significance; but a pressure from her friend’s hand restrained further
explanation, and she muttered, “Of course, it was _all_ a novelty to
me.”
Had Cara not been so intensely absorbed in her own amusing reflections,
she might have marvelled at the unusual silence of her two companions.
Scarcely a word was exchanged, as the boat raced across the
moon-flooded lake in the direction of their distant destination.