_UNEASINESS._
LUNCHEON-TIME came, and Pearl and Ivor were absent still. Mr. Crosbie
disliked unpunctuality, and grumbled heartily,—to little purpose,
except that of making others uncomfortable, since the absentees could
not hear him. Beryl was silent and absorbed. Escott, equally silent,
was unable to eat, from an attack of violent neuralgia in head and
face. He bore pain with the patience which sometimes, though not
always, springs from long habitude, but his suffering look distressed
his mother and fretted Mr. Crosbie. Diana had regained her composure,
and chattered unceasingly, albeit her manner towards Beryl showed
displeasure. Beryl did not appear to be conscious of the same.
Luncheon over, Mr. Crosbie withdrew to his own sitting-room, and
Escott to the sofa, while Beryl betook herself to the counterpane, and
Millicent brought one or two remedies to Escott, which sometimes gave
relief. Diana found employment in looking out of the window, watching
for the wanderers, and bemoaning herself over the dulness of Weston.
"I hate to be in a place where I know nobody," she said. "How you can
have endured to spend a whole month here, and to make not a single
acquaintance, passes my understanding. One might as well go to a desert
island."
"I thought it better for Escott, not to have people incessantly in and
out," said Millicent.
"I don't believe in anything of the sort. Dulness is good for nobody.
Besides, you had to think of Ivor too, poor fellow. But well people
always have to go to the wall, where invalids are concerned. Really,
I think it is quite a charity in me to have brought Pearl. He has
somebody to speak with now,—and somebody who can give him an answer.
Young men don't care for a society of only middle-aged people and
dummies."
Her words stung right and left. Beryl felt the slight, and Escott was
pricked, and Millicent endured for both.
"They make a pretty picture together,—he and Pearl. I always do think
so. One of the prettiest pictures I have seen for a long while. He is
really almost as good-looking for a man as she is lovely for a girl. Of
course they are very young still,—but that sort of thing often begins
early. All the better when it does. I shouldn't wonder at all if, some
day, before long—"
"I think premature suggestions of this kind are a very great pity, even
when made in jest," said Millicent gravely. "Pearl is a mere child
still, and Ivor is really only a boy. My pleasure is in seeing them
both so perfectly simple and at their ease. I do not believe such an
idea has ever crossed Ivor's thoughts."
"Don't you?" and Diana laughed. "My dear Millie, you count all the
world as innocent as yourself; but it won't quite do, you know."
"If not, I am sorry for it. But you mistake me, Di. This is a matter of
principle, not of ignorance, with me. It would be sheer cruelty, from
any love of joking or love of talk, to suggest such a notion to those
poor children. They are both too young to know their own minds. I hope
I may trust Beryl never to repeat to Pearl what you have said."
Beryl's look was a sufficient answer.
Diana laughed again. "What a fuss about nothing," she declared. "Why,
everybody says that kind of thing, and everybody knows what it is
worth. Of course I don't pretend to be infallible. But my own private
belief is that Pearl's little heart is taken captive already, whether
she knows it or not. You would believe the same, if you had seen the
state of distress she was in, when I proposed to give up coming here."
"I do not believe it," said Millicent, so earnestly as to be almost
sternly. "The very suggestion about her is positive cruelty, Di. How do
you know that Beryl and Escott may never make an unwise or unkind use
of your words? I believe they are safe, but how can you know it? You
are reckless, surely, to put Pearl so into the power of any one,—poor
little defenceless Pearl. Suppose any of us chose to repeat your words
to Ivor,—and suppose Ivor to be, as I believe him to be, without a
thought or wish of the kind. Think what a position Pearl would be in."
Millicent was actually trembling with womanly indignation. Diana seemed
rather pleased than otherwise to have succeeded in exciting her.
"My dear, I am getting a little too old for elder-sisterly lectures,"
she said. "And I don't think they ever had much effect upon me. We must
each 'gang our ain gait,' and take the course we think proper. For my
part, I believe that desirable affairs are sometimes helped forward by
a timely suggestion behind the scenes. But I don't expect you to take
that view of the matter. You and I unfortunately never did agree,—and
as for Marian, she and I don't even discuss our differences of opinion
now; it is such a perfectly hopeless matter. Well, I really think I
shall take a drive this afternoon. We live in such an atmosphere of
virtuous argumentativeness and setting people to rights, that I am
getting out of sorts and positively ill-tempered. I shall keep a sharp
look-out for Pearl and Ivor, and break in upon their 'tête-à-tête' if
possible."
She did not offer to take Beryl, but went out of the room with her
perpetual little rustle.
"My sister has been talking utter nonsense," Millicent said then.
"Mind, children,—you are both to forget it."
"Pearl is younger than I am,—only sixteen," said Beryl.
"Yes,—it is absurd," said Millicent, not often so ruffled. "You must
try to forget what you have heard."
Beryl simply answered, "Yes," and Escott said nothing, but disappeared
abruptly.
Millicent followed him, to spend over two hours in vain efforts to
alleviate a worse attack of pain than he had had since coming to
Weston. Possibly she was not without a suspicion of the cause, but she
spoke no more of Pearl. She had indeed no time to think about Pearl or
Ivor, and even when the pain lessened, she could not leave him for a
while.
When at length able to come downstairs, she found tea on the small
table, Diana returned, and the walkers still absent.
"Strange," Millicent said thoughtfully. "I do not understand it at all."
"My dear, depend upon it, they have simply strayed on, forgetting the
time," Diana said, with her light air of patronage. "Some people's
company is sufficiently enchanting to some others, to render them just
a little oblivious. For my part, I really think Beryl ought to have
gone too,—but it can't be helped now. Do pray give me a cup of tea, for
I am perfectly exhausted."
"If I only knew what direction they had taken," Millicent said,
arousing herself from a dream to lift the teapot.
"That you might go after them? A mere wild-goose chase. By the time you
had reached the further extremity of their ramble, they would be at
home again."
"But if anything has happened!"
"What in the world 'could' happen? Ivor may have been stung by a wasp,
or Pearl scratched by a bramble. Do be reasonable. Thanks—a piece of
cake. There are two of them together. Even if anything so unlikely came
about as that one should choose to tumble down and break a leg, the
other could call for help. Weston woods are not American forests."
"They are pretty large woods, though," said Beryl. "I quite lost my way
in them the other day, when I went alone."
"Some people lose their way in walking from one end to the other of
Regent Street. It is a sort of gift,—a happy faculty. Very likely
indeed Pearl and Ivor have lost their way now. It is extremely likely.
I shall not be in the least surprised to hear it."
"Some bread-and-butter, Beryl?" asked Millicent, her fair brow wearing
the gentle dent of displeasure which was its nearest approach to a
frown.
"But, of course, if you want to try the effects of a wild-goose chase,
you have but to send Beryl and Escott after them," pursued Diana. "'Set
a thief to catch a thief.'" She laughed at her own joke, the force of
which none but herself could perceive.
"Escott has done enough for to-day, thank you."
"Would you like me to go and look anywhere,—or ask?" inquired Beryl,
rather shyly.
"Not the slightest use," said Diana, before Millicent could speak. "I
have driven along all likely roads within reach, and saw not a trace of
them. Of course you could go where you went this morning, and you might
find Pearl and Ivor seated in a shady nook, enjoying themselves,—but it
is a great deal more likely that you would find nothing of the sort.
Depend upon it, they have gone some tremendous round, which will knock
Pearl up for a week at least. It is exceedingly thoughtless of them
both. If you go scrambling after them, you are pretty sure to get lost
yourself. In which case, I hope 'I' shall not be asked to act searcher.
That is all I have to say."