THE FLOWER SHOW.
THE morning of the T— flower show dawned clear and bright, with the
promise of a cloudless day. It would have been oppressively hot but
for the breeze which sprang up about noon, bringing with it a taste
of fresh, moorland air. The show was to be held in a large field on
the outskirts of the town, and was to be formally opened at two
o'clock by the member who represented the division in which T— was
situated in Parliament; so that after an early luncheon Lulu
Tillotson and her visitor hurried to their respective rooms to be
dressed in time to accompany Mr. Tillotson to the opening ceremony.
Lulu was ready first. Her white frock suited her far better than the
gay coloured garments she usually affected; and she would have been
very suitably attired for the occasion if she had not seen fit to add
her favourite long gold chain, and her jingling bangles. After a last
glance in the looking-glass she joined her friend, whom she found
putting the finishing touches to her toilet.
"How nice you look, Celia!" Lulu exclaimed with honest admiration
in her tones. "Your eyes are shining like stars, and there's such
a lovely pink colour in your cheeks. How I wish I was as pretty
as you!"
Celia laughed—a flattered laugh it was—and said: "Oh, nonsense!"
but she was really very pleased.
"Your dress is simply sweet," Lulu continued critically, "and, oh,
Celia, what a beautiful brooch!"
"Yes, isn't it?" Celia returned, her colour deepening. She had
fastened her frock at the throat with the butterfly brooch, and the
jewel with its sparkling diamonds was handsome and striking enough
to attract attention at once. "I'm glad you like it," she added.
"Like it! Why, I think it's one of the prettiest I ever saw," Lulu
cried, enthusiastically. "How is it I never saw it before? Is it new?
Have you had it long?"
"No—that is—yes. I have had it since the night before I came here,"
Celia answered, rather confusedly.
"Oh, I suppose Sir Jasper Amery gave it to you?"
"Yes."
Celia turned her back upon her friend, and pretended to be searching
in a drawer for her gloves, for she was conscious that her face
was crimson. Lulu, however, was thinking of the brooch, and not
of its wearer; she seemed quite excited.
"Why, Celia, the stones must be real diamonds!" she exclaimed.
"I thought, at first, they were only paste; but if Sir Jasper gave
you the brooch, you may depend upon it the stones are real."
"Yes, I know they are," Celia admitted, reflecting that she might
as well tell the truth when she could safely do so. "The brooch
belonged to his wife."
"And he gave it to you? How wonderfully kind of him! You must indeed
be a great favourite of his, Celia. Oh, you lucky girl to have
diamonds like that! They must be worth a heap of money."
"I expect so."
"I remember hearing my father say that the late Lady Amery had very
valuable jewels. Mind you don't lose your brooch! Is the pin quite
firm? Yes, that's right. Now, if you're ready we'll go downstairs,
for it's quite time to start."
In the hall they found Mr. Tillotson awaiting them. He scanned the
two girls approvingly, but did not particularly notice Celia's
brooch, and, much to Celia's relief, Lulu did not call his attention
to it.
The flower show proved a very great success, and the number of people
who attended it far exceeded everyone's expectations. The flowers,
fruit, and vegetables were exhibited under the shelter of tents,
whilst a military band was in attendance. After the opening ceremony,
Mr. Tillotson kindly devoted himself to his young companions, and
drew their attention to the rarest exhibits; but he soon found they
were far more interested in the people than in the flowers, and when
after exchanging a few words of conversation with a friend he looked
around and found they had disappeared, he did not seek for them,
telling himself he would be sure to come across them again before
very long.
Meanwhile, Lulu and Celia wandered from one tent to another, watching
the crowd, admiring the light summer gowns of the ladies, and
criticising everyone they saw. Now and then they met people Lulu
knew, and Celia was introduced to a great many strangers who were
favourably impressed by her winning manners and pretty face. One old
lady Celia overheard called her a "sweet child," which made her heart
swell with happiness; but she was considerably taken aback when she
heard some one else say:
"Where did she get that brooch, I wonder? It's spurious, of course.
Most unsuitable for a girl of that age!"
"Celia, we have not seen Miss Pring's onions," Lulu whispered
at length. "I confess I am curious to know if they have taken
a prize. Let us pay a visit to the vegetable tent, shall we?"
"Yes, if you like. Oh, look, there's Miss Mary Pring talking
to Mr. Cole! Miss Pring is sure to be here somewhere. I knew
she was coming."
The Vicar and his companion did not notice the two girls, for they
were closely examining some cut dahlia blooms.
"We won't speak to them now," Celia continued; "let us go and look
at the vegetables."
They accordingly did so. It was not nearly so crowded in the
vegetable tent, so they had little difficulty in finding the stall
where the onions were laid out for inspection.
"'First prize: Miss Pring, Home Vale, Crumleigh,'" Lulu read out,
examining one of the tickets. "Well, I'm glad. They are beauties,
aren't they, Celia? Such monsters! They deserve the first prize.
There can be no doubt about that. Oh, look, Celia, there's Miss Pring
herself standing near the entrance with father."
"Need we speak to her?" Celia inquired.
"I suppose we must; and I should rather like to congratulate her
on having won the first prize. Yes, father's beckoning to us.
Come along. You'll see how she'll try to take the conceit out of me."
But Miss Pring made no such attempt to-day. She was in high
good-humour, and the little girls' white frocks met with her
approval.
"How cool and nice you both look," she said, after she had shaken
hands with them. "Your father has been wondering where you were,
Lulu. One can easily miss another in a crowd like this."
"We have been looking at your onions," Lulu replied. "I am so glad
they have taken the first prize."
"So am I," said Celia.
"So am I," echoed Miss Pring, a pleased smile lighting up her plain
countenance. "I feel my labour is rewarded. By the way, Celia, I saw
your sister yesterday; she took tea with us at Home Vale, and desired
me to keep my eyes open for you at the flower show, and report to her
how you are looking, so you must not think me rude if I regard you
scrutinously, for Joy will be certain to ask me scores of questions
about you when I see her next."
Miss Pring paused, and much to Celia's alarm, fixed her eyes on the
butterfly brooch, which, for the moment, the little girl had quite
forgotten. She made no remark, however, though she certainly wondered
where Celia had procured the ornament; she herself was not a judge
of jewels, and she concluded the diamonds were merely Parisian—never
for an instant did she dream they were real.
"Have you seen your brother?" Miss Pring inquired, removing her eyes
from the brooch to Celia's countenance, which evinced astonishment
at her question.
"No! Eric? Is he here?"
"Yes. He came with Mr. Cole and Lawrence Puttenham. You will be sure
to run across him directly."
Celia was delighted at the prospect of meeting her brother, and her
fair face beamed with happiness until she suddenly bethought herself
again of the butterfly brooch. She knew Eric's sharp eyes would
immediately notice it, and that he would question her about it.
What should she do? She began to wish the brooch was securely locked
away in Sir Jasper's safe, instead of being in her possession.
Mr. Tillotson insisted on Miss Pring and the two girls now
accompanying him to the refreshment tent, where they all had tea.
There they encountered Miss Mary Pring and Mr. Cole, and Celia was
uncomfortably conscious that the former took note of her brooch with
considerable surprise, though she made no comment upon it. Then Celia
caught sight of Eric and his friend, at the far end of the tent,
eating ices, and the pleasure she experienced at the sight of her
brother was spoilt by the fear that the moment they met he would
commence to ply her with embarrassing questions about her borrowed
ornament.
"I see Eric and Lawrence Puttenham," she said to Lulu, "I should like
to speak to them. Won't you come with me and be introduced to them?"
Lulu agreed readily, for she was curious to see her friend's brother,
of whom she had heard so much. So the girls began to make their way
slowly through the crowd.
Seizing a favourable opportunity when her companion's eyes were
turned away from her, Celia unfastened the butterfly brooch and
slipped it into her pocket. She was vexed to be obliged to hide it,
but reflected that it was better to do that than to have to account
for it to Eric.
Eric met his sister warmly, and Celia introduced Lulu to him and
to Lawrence Puttenham.
"Will you have some ices?" Eric inquired, politely, looking from one
girl to the other.
They both thanked him, but declined, saying they had been having tea;
and as the boys had finished their ices, they all strolled out into
the open air, where they were soon joined by the Misses Pring,
Mr. Tillotson, and Mr. Cole.
Eric found an opportunity for a short conversation with his sister
alone, and gave her an account of the doings of the inmates of the
Moat House during her absence, including the story of Sir Jasper's
generosity to the Crumleigh Cricket Club, to all of which Celia
listened with the greatest interest.
"How is Joy getting on with Uncle Jasper?" she asked at length.
"Rather better," was the reply. "He asks her to play the piano to him
every evening now."
Celia appeared very pleased, and her pretty face lit up with a bright
smile as she exclaimed:
"Oh, that's right! I'm glad of that. Does Joy miss me much?"
"Don't know, I'm sure. She doesn't say. I say, Celia, your friend
Lulu looks rather jolly."
"She is rather jolly," Celia agreed, with a laugh.
"I shall tell mother how well that white frock suits you," he said
with decided approval in his tone, as he looked her over critically.
"She" —nodding his head at Lulu, who at a little distance was talking
animatedly with her other friends— "would look better if she didn't
wear so many ornaments and fal-lals. She reminds me of the little
girl in the nursery rhyme, made of 'ribbons and rings, and all fine
things.'"
Celia smiled at this, but she looked a little uneasy. Suddenly she
asked:
"Eric, do you think you could lend me a few shillings?"
"What! You don't mean to say you've spent the whole of that sovereign
Uncle Jasper gave you?" he exclaimed, in accents of intense surprise.
"Yes, I do. You needn't look so astonished. How often have I heard
you say that money slips away in the most remarkable manner!"
"So it does," he agreed.
"There were so many things I wanted, and Lulu spends so much, and—and
I've only a few coppers left."
"Well, you're welcome to these," Eric said, counting three shillings
into her hand. "I'm afraid I can't let you have more. Shall I ask
mother to send you—"
"No, no! And, please don't tell her I've spent all my money. This
will be plenty for what I want. Thank you so much. I daresay you
think I've been extravagant, but a sovereign is not a lot of money,
after all."
Eric was silent whilst he reflected that not so very long ago Celia
would have considered a sovereign almost a small fortune. Times were
changed indeed.
"I say, Celia," he said presently, "there's something I want to speak
to you about. Was it you, by any chance, who had been reading that
novel which Wag tore up?"
"What makes you ask that?" Celia questioned, the colour flooding her
face.
"Never mind. Tell me—was it you?"
"No."
Celia spoke the lie direct, with a boldness which almost astonished
herself. Eric looked relieved, for the bare suspicion that Celia
had allowed Joy to suffer for her fault had been repugnant to him.
"Then I suppose the book really must have belonged to one of the
servants after all!" he exclaimed. "But I know you do read literature
of that sort. Putty saw you in a shop the other day with Lulu
Tillotson looking over a lot of trashy novels."
"Putty saw me!" Celia cried, wrathfully. "What right had he to spy
on me?"
"He was not spying on you. He was in the shop with Mr. Cole, and he
couldn't help seeing you. I don't think mother would like you to read
silly books like—"
"Oh, Eric, you won't tell her!"
"Am I a sneak, Celia? But, you oughtn't to read what you know
she would disapprove of. It isn't straight of you. I don't believe
you'd have done it a year ago."
This was true, and Celia knew it. She hung her head, and when she
looked up again, her blue eyes were swimming in tears. She was
wondering what her brother would think of her if he knew of the
brooch in her pocket, and how she had procured it. She was very
sensitive on the point of what people thought of her, and set great
store on the good opinion of all with whom she was in any way
connected; but she rarely paused to consider nowadays what He thought
of her, whose approval should have been her first consideration; and
yet, like Joy and Eric, when a tiny child her mother had taught her
to say: "Thou God seest me," and almost her first lesson in life had
been to learn the meaning of those solemn words.
Eric said no more, and they rejoined their friends; but Celia was
unusually subdued in spirits for the rest of the day. She had not
relished being taken to task by her brother, though it was not until
after they had said good-bye that she commenced to feel actual
resentment against him. She came to the conclusion that he had had no
right to question her as he had done, and that it was no business
of his how she chose to amuse herself.
The August evening was closing in when Mr. Tillotson took the two
girls home. They assured him they had spent a pleasant, happy time,
and ran upstairs to divest themselves of their best frocks. Then it
was that Celia, as she took the butterfly brooch from her pocket, and
carefully placed it, as before, at the bottom of her box, was forced
to acknowledge to herself that the glittering jewel had spoilt her
perfect enjoyment of the flower show, and that she had paid for her
vanity with an uneasy mind.