"No use for me. I can't ride, and it's no use beginning. I'm only here
for a week."
The groom looked the surprise he was too well trained to express.
"Indeed, sir. Well, I can give you a mount if you change your mind. It
wouldn't take long to get your seat; and it's pleasant exercise these
spring days. The carriages are round this way, miss. There's a pretty
little cart you might like to drive yourself."
He led the way forward; but while the others followed, Mollie hung
behind, blocking Jack's way. Something prompted her to speak, an
impulse too strong to be resisted.
"Do learn!" she cried entreatingly. "Learn with us. Why won't you? It
would be such fun. You said you hated to be idle. It wouldn't be
wasted time if you learnt a useful accomplishment."
"Hardly useful to me, I am afraid, Miss Mollie. I have no money for
horses. My only acquaintance with them is from the top of a City
omnibus."
"But you can't tell what might happen. We might go to war again, and
you might want to volunteer. You might grow rich. Besides, you
volunteered to come and stay with the `Chosen,' and then you will
certainly find it useful. So you will join us, won't you?"
Jack laughed and hesitated, looking down at the flushed, eager face. It
seemed a very trifling matter. He could not tell that with the
acceptance or refusal of this light request the whole of his future
destiny was involved. He only thought that Mollie was a charmingly
pretty girl, and that it would be amusing to practise riding by her
side.
"Well! since you put it like that, I can't refuse," he answered
laughingly. "We will learn together, Miss Mollie, and good luck to our
efforts."
"But what about the riding-habits?" asked Ruth.
"We must get them," said Mollie.
"Where?" asked Ruth.
"At a tailor's," said Mollie. "Bond Street, for choice; only it would
be difficult to arrange about fitting. I'm not at all sure that we
shan't have to pay a visit to town on this matter of clothes. For the
present I mean to consult that maid, and see what can be done until we
can get habits well made for us. And--who knows?--there may be some old
things stored away somewhere which will come in handy. Anyway, I'm
going to begin lessons to-morrow, habit or no habit. You can do as you
like."
As there was no time to be lost, the maid was summoned only to proclaim
her inability to manufacture riding attire in the space of twenty-four
hours, or to produce the same from the household treasures.
"There is the mistress's habit, of course, but that was locked away with
her other clothes; and even if I could get at it I wouldn't dare to use
it. Mr Farrell keeps everything she wore, and nobody touches them but
himself. There's a very good tailor at Bexham, miss--only half an
hour's rail from here. Many of the ladies go to him for their things."
"But we want something now--at once! Something to wear to-morrow.
Surely you can think of something? Mr Farrell said we were to ask you
for everything we wanted, and this is the first thing we have asked for.
You must suggest something!" cried Mollie imperiously.
Thus adjured, Emma pursed up her lips, and wrinkled her forehead, leant
her head on one side, and stared at the ceiling for inspiration.
Presently it came, for the frown disappeared, the lips relaxed into a
smile.
"Well, miss," she said, "there's the parson's young ladies; they are
nearly as big as you, though they are still at school. They ride with
the father in the holiday, for the squire let's them have a mount from
the stables whenever they send up. Their habits will be at home, lying
idle. They are not much for style, of course, but for a few days, until
you have time to get fitted yourself--"
"Emma, you are an angel! It's a splendid idea! Mrs Thornton begged us
to let her help in any way she could. We'll call this very afternoon,
when we go down to post off the flowers, and I'm sure she will be
delighted to lend them. Now we can have our first lesson to-morrow.
That's glorious! I do hate to wait when I have planned anything nice."
At luncheon Mr Farrell made his appearance, and listened with polite
indifference to the history of the morning's doings as volunteered by
his guests. He asked no questions, made no suggestions, and retired
into the library the moment the meal was over for his daily perusal of
the _Times_. Here for the first time he discovered the inconvenience of
the novel interruption to his solitude, for the newspaper was missing
from its accustomed place, and, on ringing to make inquiries, he was
informed that Mr Melland had carried it off to the billiard-room.
"Tell Mr Melland, with my compliments, I should be obliged if he would
allow me to have it for the next hour--and order two copies for the
future," he said grimly.
And five minutes later Jack appeared in person the bearer of the
newspaper and frank apologies.
"I'm really awfully sorry! I did not know you had not seen it. Would
you care for me to read aloud any article? I should be glad to be of
use."
"Thank you. My eyes are still quite useful. I prefer to read for
myself."
Jack had the good sense to depart without further protest, and Mr
Farrell stretched himself on his big chair with a sigh of relief. He
took no pleasure in his guests, whose bright young presence depressed
him by reviving memories of happier days. If it had not been for the
necessity of choosing an heir, he would have cherished his solitude as
his dearest possession. He congratulated himself, however, that by
reserving one room for his own use he could be still safe from
interruption, and, turning to a leading article, read the first few
paragraphs with leisurely enjoyment. The writing was excellent, the
views irreproachable, in that they exactly coincided with his own. He
turned with anticipatory pleasure to the article next in order, when the
sound of a light tap-tap came to the door, and Ruth appeared upon the
threshold, blushing shyly.
"Uncle Bernard, Mrs Wolff says that you always read the _Times_ after
luncheon... Would it be any help if I read aloud what you wish to hear?
Sometimes, when pater is tired--"
"I am obliged to you. I require no help of the sort. Is there any
other subject on which you wished to speak to me?"
The tone was so suggestive of concealed wrath that Ruth quailed before
it, and the faltering "No" was hardly audible across the room. Mr
Farrell lifted the paper from his knee so that his face was hidden from
view.
"Then you will forgive my remarking that I prefer to be undisturbed. We
shall meet in the drawing-room for tea."
Ruth shut the door, advanced a few steps into the hall, and stamped her
foot violently upon the floor. The thick Turkey carpet reduced the
noise to the faintest echo, but an answering laugh sounded from behind a
screen, and Jack Melland's eyes looked quizzically into her flushed
face.
"Allow me to sympathise. I was sent about my business a few minutes
ago. Took back the _Times_ by request, and ventured to offer to read
aloud--"
"Oh, so did I! His eyes looked so tired, that I long to do something!
It's like living in an hotel, to take everything and do nothing in
return, but if he is so cross and glares like that I shall never dare to
offer again. Do you suppose it will go on like this all the time? Will
he avoid us entirely except at meal-times? Shall we never get to know
him really? If it is like that, I don't think I can stand it. I shall
run away and go home!"
Jack looked down at her with a kindly sympathy.
"Ah, well, it's early days to judge! I don't think it would be
consistent with Mr Farrell's plans to remain a stranger. Opportunities
are bound to arise as the days pass by. Don't worry about it, but enjoy
yourself while you can.--I am going to sit out on the terrace. Will you
come, too? It will be quite warm so long as the sun lasts."
They strolled away together, to make acquaintance in a quiet _tete-a-
tete_, while once more interruption approached the library in the shape
of Mollie, primed for battle. She rapped at the door, received a low
growl by way of reply, and had no sooner crossed the threshold than an
infuriated voice startled her ears.
"I tell you no! I want no help. I can read without assistance. Am I
stone-blind that I cannot be left in peace to read my paper, as I have
done these forty years? How many times over have I to answer the same
question?"
"But--but--I haven't asked you anything yet!" gasped Mollie blankly.
Eyes and lips alike were wide with amazement, but instead of retiring at
full speed, as the other two visitors had done before her, she shut the
door carefully and advanced towards the fire. "What did you think I was
going to say?"
"I have already had two interruptions in the last half-hour; two offers
to have my news read aloud--a thing I detest. I conclude you have come
on the same mission?"
"No!" Mollie shook her head, half penitent, half amused. "Indeed such
a thing never entered my mind. I was selfish enough to be thinking of
myself--not you. Something is worrying me. May I sit down and talk to
you about it, Uncle Bernard?"
She drew forward a chair even as she spoke, and Mr Farrell made no
objection. The _Times_ lay on his lap, his thin hands crossed above it,
while his sunken eyes were fixed upon the girl's face with a curious
scrutiny.
"If it is any argument about going or staying, I have already
explained--"
"Ah, but it isn't! I am going to stay. I love staying! I don't know
when I have been so happy in my life as I've been to-day, wandering
about this sweet old place. It was the most curious feeling this
morning before you were down--like living in an enchanted castle where
the owner had disappeared! When I gathered the flowers I felt quite
like Beau--" She drew herself up sharply--"They were such lovely
flowers!"
A short laugh proved that the interruption had come too late.
"As I said before, Miss Mary, you are not overburdened with modesty! I
am obliged for my part of the simile!"
But the speaker's eyes were twinkling with quite the most amiable
expression Mollie had yet seen, and she laughed unabashed.
"Ah, well, one description is as exaggerated as the other. I didn't
mean to say it; it just popped out. You know that I didn't mean to be
rude. I wanted to speak to you about something very important--to us,
at least. Ruth will be scandalised, but it's bound to come out sooner
or later, and I want to understand our position... We told you this
morning that we proposed to learn riding."
"You did."
"And you made no objection."
"On the contrary, I quite approved. It is almost essential for your own
comfort and convenience it you wish to enjoy a country life."
"Yes! so we thought. But there is one great objection. We have no
habits."
"Indeed!"
"No; of course, we have never ridden at home."
"I presume not."
"And we cannot ride without habits. Emma, the maid, suggested that Mrs
Thornton might lend us her daughters' just for a few days; but we cannot
keep them long."
"Certainly not!"
Mr Farrell made his remarks with an air of polite indifference, which
was peculiarly baffling. It was evident that no lead was to be expected
from him, and that Mollie would have to put her request in the plainest
possible words. Her lips were pressed together in a momentary
hesitation between embarrassment and laughter; then she thought of the
lecture she would receive from Ruth if her errand ended in failure, and
grew strong again. Her eyes met those of Uncle Bernard still fixed
intently on her face.
"I wanted to ask you what we were to do about them, and about clothes
altogether! You know we are very poor. Ruth and I have fifteen pounds
a year to dress on. You have never been a girl, so you don't understand
what that means; but though we can get along on that at home and could
look respectable for a few days' visit, we can't manage as we are for
three whole months, especially when you wish us to go about, and have
parties here, and meet your friends on their own terms. We have only
those black evening-dresses which you saw last night, and girls can't
always wear the same things, as a man does his dress suit."
"I suppose not."
"No they can't. So--"
"So?"
Mollie's cheek flushed with a dawning impatience.
"Uncle Bernard, don't you think you make it very hard for me? After
all, it was your wish that we should stay, and we cannot put the pater
to more expense. You said we were to have carte blanche. I want to
know if that applies to clothes also?"
"I must say I had not anticipated anything of the sort when I made my
remark."
"Well then, are you content to have us as we are? It won't be easy or
pleasant, but I suppose we _could_ rub along if you don't object.
People would make remarks, and as they are your friends--"
"It is a great many years since I have troubled my head about what
people say. That argument has no weight with me; but, as you say, you
remain here and go into society at my invitation, and it is therefore
only reasonable that I should make it possible for you to do so in
comfort. I am in ignorance as to what is required. What sum, may I
ask, would you consider sufficient to make up deficiencies?"
Mollie's smile of rapture was a sight to behold. The victory was won,
and won so easily that there had been no fight worthy the name. Her
mind flew to Ruth, picturing the scene between them when she retold the
conversation; then turned at a tangent to gloat over the thought of
fineries to come.
"Ah-ah! That's a difficult question to answer. We shall need riding-
habits, and summer things, and evening-dresses, and hosts of etceteras.
I could make myself look respectable for twenty pounds; I could look
smart for fifty; I could be a vision for a hundred!" cried Mollie,
clasping her hands ecstatically, while once again a faint twinkle showed
itself in Mr Farrell's eyes. His words were, however, as a rule,
decidedly damping in tone.
"That is interesting to know, but something less bewildering than
visions might be more in keeping with ordinary life. Very well, then,
Miss Mary, order what you please, and tell your sister to do the same,
and let the bills come in to me. You can run up to town for the day
whenever it is necessary, and no doubt you will enjoy the variety. Is
there anything more you wish to say?"
He took up the newspaper in sign of dismissal, but Mollie sat her
ground, flushing and knitting her brows.
"Uncle Bernard, you are an angel, and I'm ever so much obliged, but
please mightn't we have a fixed sum? It would be so much more
comfortable! If it is left like this, we should not know what you would
think reasonable or extravagant!"
"And in the other case, I should not know it of you! No; it must be
left entirely to your discretion. Get what you please, and as much as
you please. I make no restrictions. As I have said before, money is no
object to me, but it is my great aim at present to understand your
position as to it."
"I understand, but it's very awkward!" sighed Mollie. Her forehead was
puckered with thought; she stroked her soft little chin in thoughtful
fashion. "I should like to please you, but I am so completely in the
dark. A man's ideas are so different from a girl's. If I get all I
think necessary, you may think me extravagant!"
"Very possibly I may."
"And if I get less than the best, you might think me mean."
"Very possibly again."
Mollie made an involuntary gesture of impatience, then laughed and
tossed her head.
"Uncle Bernard, it is hopeless to try to understand you. There is only
one thing to be done; since I don't know how to please you, I must take
extra good care to please myself."
"A most sensible conclusion! I congratulate you upon it. I have,
however, one request to make. It is my wish that you and your sister
should be independent of each other; each acting exactly as she thinks
fit, without reference to the other's wishes. Is there anything more
that you wish to say? If not, may I suggest that I am generally left
free from interruption after lunch?"
"I'll never come again--I promise I won't, but there is a lot I should
like to say if you would let me. I'd like to thank you and tell you how
much fun and happiness we shall get out of your generosity; but, I
suppose, if I did you would hate it, and call it gush. The best thing I
can do is to go away at once; but you can't prevent me thanking you in
my heart."
She looked at him half smiling, half wistful, longing for some sign of
softening which might break down the barrier between them, but Mr
Farrell did not even meet her glance. His eyes had already strayed
towards his newspaper; he was settling himself in his chair and
preparing to resume the interrupted reading. Mollie turned with a sigh
and left the room.