Under the Arbutus Tree
"MOLLY, what have I done to offend Doris?" asked Felicia of her younger
cousin one Saturday afternoon a few weeks later. "She treats me as
though I had injured her in some way; haven't you noticed it?"
"Yes," admitted Molly reluctantly; "it's very unkind of her, and
foolish too, but Doris is like that."
"Like what?" demanded Felicia in bewilderment. "Do tell me what you
mean, for I haven't the least idea what I have done to annoy her. I'm
sure I wouldn't put her out if I could help it."
The two little girls—devoted friends they were now—had established
themselves on the seat under the arbutus tree in the Priory garden,
with Lion stretched at their feet, asleep. Doris had been asked to
accompany her sister, but she had declined to do so; she had enough of
Felicia's society on working days, she had said, without wanting to
spend the weekly holiday with her, too.
"I think she is jealous of you, Felicia," Molly said gravely, with a
sigh and a troubled expression creeping into her clear eyes.
"Oh, Molly! Because you and I are such great friends?"
"Well, partly that, perhaps, and because Uncle Guy has taken such a
fancy to you. Mother says she's very glad he has, and grandfather's
pleased, but I'm sure Doris is jealous; and—and she was so put out when
she heard grandfather had driven you to T—. Doris is like that, you
know; she's jealous of me, too, if she thinks any one likes me better
than her. Don't you worry about it."
"Oh, but I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Felicia. "If I had known she would
have liked that drive with grandfather so much, I would have asked him
to take her instead of me. Did she see much of Uncle Guy before I came?"
"Oh, no!"
"Then why should she mind?"
"Of course there's no real reason why she should, but she does. Mother
says jealous people are never reasonable. Never mind her—if she likes
to keep herself to herself we'll let her. She'll have a dull afternoon
at the Vicarage, for Miss Barton's gone out with mother, and father's
gone to watch the village lads play cricket. Why, Felicia, surely
that's Uncle Guy standing at the front door!"
"Yes, and he sees us. I believe he's coming here. He spent quite a long
while in the garden yesterday, and afterwards he said he thought it had
done him good. Shall we go and meet him?" And springing to her feet,
Felicia ran across the lawn and caught her uncle by the hand. "Come
and sit under the arbutus tree with Molly and me, Uncle Guy," she said
coaxingly; "it's so cool and pleasant there."
"So I thought," he replied with a smile. "I've been watching you two
from my sitting-room window, wondering what you've been talking about
so seriously. I suppose you have a great many secrets—eh? Well, Molly,
how's the world serving you? Very well? That's good hearing. Oh, I'm to
sit between you, am I?"
"Yes, do," Molly rejoined, thinking what a nice face her uncle had
when he smiled, and what a pity it was he did not always look so
good-tempered. "Are you comfortable? Shall I fetch some cushions?"
"No, no, I'm all right; my back's on its best behaviour to-day. But I'm
afraid I've interrupted a confidential talk—eh, Molly? Where is Doris,
by the way?"
"She preferred to remain at home," Molly answered, with a touch of
reserve in her tone, whilst Felicia looked embarrassed—two facts,
neither of which passed unnoticed by their uncle, though he did not
remark upon them.
"I wonder if Mrs. Price would send out our tea to us here," he
suggested presently; "run indoors and ask her, Felicia." Then, as the
little girl sped across the lawn, he turned to Molly and inquired:
"Why wouldn't Doris come with you this afternoon? Doesn't she like her
cousin?"
"Well, no, I suppose she doesn't," Molly was obliged to admit.
"Why not?"
Molly hesitated, and glanced at her uncle anxiously, doubtful of the
wisdom of taking him into her confidence.
"I'm not sure I ought to tell you," she said at length; "but—but Doris
is very jealous of Felicia, because every one likes her—not only you
and grandfather, but mother, and father, and Miss Barton, too. Doris
says she cannot think what we all see in her to make us like her
so much, and she is always talking about her mother having been a
'nobody,' and saying that Felicia is deceptive. She isn't! Doris says
she makes believe to be religious to please father, but I'm sure that's
not true. Oh, Uncle Guy, you won't tell any one this, will you?"
"Certainly I will not. So Doris thinks Felicia's religion is a
pretence?"
Molly nodded.
"And you don't think so?"
"No, Uncle Guy. It's real."
"Yes, it's real—to her; I believe it's a great comfort and source of
happiness to her. She brought a very sore heart to the Priory, poor
little girl! I am pleased she has a friend in you, Molly."
"I'm so glad you like her, too," Molly declared earnestly.
"Then you are not jealous of her?"
"Oh, Uncle Guy, no!"
"You need not be. It is very cruel to begrudge her a few pleasures
after what her life must have been in the past; perhaps if Doris knew
the privations her cousin has suffered, she would not be jealous of her
because she has fallen upon better days."
"She does know," Molly admitted with a sigh. "Oh, here comes Felicia!
Please don't let her guess we've been talking about her, Uncle Guy."
Felicia was now crossing the lawn, carrying a wicker tea-table, whilst
Ann White followed, bearing a tray with the tea-things. Just at that
moment Mr. Renford came up the carriage drive, and catching sight of
the group under the arbutus tree made towards it.
"That's right, grandfather, come and have some tea!" cried Molly.
"There's no room for you on the seat, but I'll get you a chair," and
she flew into the house and fetched one for him.
"This is pleasanter than indoors—eh, Guy?" said Mr. Renford.
His son assented; and then the question arose which of the little girls
should pour out the tea.
"You, Felicia, because you live here," said Molly, generously willing
to give up what she considered a post of honour.
"No, you, Molly, because you're the elder," Felicia replied; "oh, yes,
please do!"
And seeing her cousin really wished it, Molly officiated at the
tea-table, and felt very important and happy as mistress of the
ceremonies.
"There are several gipsies' caravans on the common outside the
village," Mr. Renford announced by-and-by. "I noticed some gipsy
women selling brushes and tinware at the cottages; I must warn the
servants not to encourage them here. I hope they won't stay long in the
district, for I'm not partial to gipsies."
"Oh, I think they're rather nice!" said Molly; "such a dear little
gipsy boy came to the back door of the Vicarage yesterday to beg a
drink of water. I was in the kitchen at the time, and cook gave him a
glass of milk. He was so grateful. And when I was out in the evening
with father, we met two gipsy men, and they spoke very civilly. But I
did not know they had encamped on the common. How I should like to see
the inside of a caravan, shouldn't you, Felicia?"
"Yes," assented Felicia eagerly; "couldn't we walk to the common
by-and-by, and have a look at the caravans?"
"Certainly not," said Mr. Renford decisively; "I forbid you to go
near the common, for the less one has to do with gipsies the better.
I have a shrewd suspicion that they sup off game from my preserves
every night, for they have several lurchers with them, I notice; and
lurchers, as a rule, are not kept to do nothing—they earn their living,
you may depend. Gipsies are always thieves."
"Isn't that rather a sweeping assertion?" Mr. Guy asked carelessly.
"Well, perhaps it is," his father admitted; "but I mistrust them.
I suppose they are waiting about to attend some fair in the
neighbourhood."
Mr. Renford did not inquire why Doris was not with her sister, and both
Molly and Felicia were relieved that he did not. A very pleasant, two
hours were passed under the arbutus tree, and when Molly returned to
the Vicarage she could talk of nothing but the happy afternoon she had
spent.
"And I poured out the tea," she told Doris; "Felicia made me. Wasn't
that nice of her? If you had been there, of course you would have done
it. It was silly of you to stay away; you missed such an enjoyable
time. Uncle Guy was as nice as anyone possibly could be, and he
looks so much better and brighter than he did a few weeks ago; and
grandfather was in splendid spirits, too, only he seemed rather put out
because some gipsies have encamped on the common. Felicia wanted to go
and look at the caravans, but he forbade her to do so."
"Did grandfather inquire for me?" asked Doris.
"No, he never mentioned your name."
"Oh!" Doris looked decidedly piqued. "I daresay you didn't miss me?"
she said half-questioningly.
"Not much," Molly responded frankly. "How foolish you are, Doris," she
proceeded; "why need you be jealous of Felicia? She feels nothing but
goodwill for you. As Uncle Guy says, it is very cruel to begrudge her a
few pleasures after what her life must have been in the past—"
"You have been talking to Uncle Guy about me?" Doris broke in. "Oh,
how—how mean of you!"
"I could not help it. He questioned me, and you know he is very sharp
and puts two and two together. It's your fault for not going with me
this afternoon. I expect you've had a dull time at home, haven't you?"
Doris was obliged to admit that she had, for, except for the servants,
she had had the house to herself, and time had hung heavily on her
hands. She had grown rather ashamed of her jealous temper during the
hours she had spent in solitude; and now acknowledged to herself that
she had shown herself very small-minded. She determined she would be
nicer and less reserved to Felicia for the future, or perhaps Uncle Guy
would take her to task upon the point, and she certainly did not desire
that.
"I wonder why he likes her so much," she mused; "I know he does like
her by the sound of his voice when he speaks of 'our little ditch
flower,' as he always calls her. I don't suppose he ever shows his
temper to her."
There Doris was wrong, for Felicia had witnessed several exhibitions of
poor Uncle Guy's temper since the evening Lion had upset the table and
broken the Venetian vase; but she was learning to have patience with
him, and was, all unknowingly, gaining a greater influence over him on
that account.