"Fine feathers make fine birds! I am glad to see that you have honoured
my friends by wearing your fineries for their benefit. Ruth, I presume,
prefers to keep hers for another occasion?"
Ruth dropped her eyelids and vouchsafed no reply. There was a little
lump in her throat at that moment which would have made it difficult to
speak in her usual voice. It was hard to have denied herself for
naught, and less than naught, for Mollie's extravagance seemed more to
the old man's taste than her own prudence. It was not the first time
that the difference in their attire had been the subject of little edged
remarks, which had made her bitterly regret the lost opportunity.
Seated in the carriage opposite Victor, she was still further depressed
by the fear that he was also comparing her with Mollie, to her own
disadvantage; but there was no hint of such a thought in his look or
manner. The dark eyes met hers with sympathetic understanding. At
every point he deferred to her opinion with a subtle flattery which was
inexpressibly soothing to her wounded feelings.
The occupants of the first house on the list were not at home, so a
sheaf of cards were left, and the carriage sped on another mile to
Number 2, where the family were discovered superintending the
arrangements of bedding-out plants round the front lawn. They greeted
the visitors with easy cordiality, consulted them on the knotty question
of geraniums _versus_ begonias, escorted them round the gardens, and
were vociferously reproachful when they refused to stay another half-
hour to partake of tea.
As the carriage drove up the drive leading to the third house, a
masculine figure was seen rushing to conceal itself behind the bushes,
and the visitors had hard work to conceal their smiles when their
hostess sent an urgent message to summon her husband from the grounds,
and, on hearing that he could not be found, expressed her conviction
that he would be woefully disappointed to have missed the pleasure of
making their acquaintance.
"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind! I don't feel a bit of a
grudge against that fellow," Victor said laughingly, as they drove off
once more. "With your permission, I am going to follow his example and
make a bolt of it when we get back to the high-road. I shall enjoy the
walk home, after being cramped up all afternoon. You will excuse me,
won't you?"
"But we are going to the Moat. That's the next house on the list.
Don't you want to see Lady Margot?" cried Mollie, outspoken as usual.
Both girls stared at him in amazement, but there was no sign of
embarrassment on the handsome, smiling face.
"Very much, of course, but not enough to face another drawing-room
catechism, accompanied by draughts of strong tea. There will be no
escape this time, so you must be generous, and let me run for it, like
poor Mr Granger! I have been very good and docile, but if you only
knew how I am longing for freedom!"
There was no gainsaying such a request, nor, indeed, did either of the
girls particularly wish to do so.
They made no objections, therefore, but, putting Victor down at the
cross-roads, drove on their way in great good-humour.
The Moat was a picturesque old house, though by no means so imposing as
the Court. The man-servant reported that Mrs Blount was not well
enough to receive visitors, but that Lady Margot was at home and
disengaged; and the visitors were shown into a pleasant, sunny
apartment, where Margot herself was seated reading. She looked up
apprehensively at the sound of the opening door; but at the sight of the
two girls her expression changed, and she came forward to greet them
with an eagerness which could not be mistaken.
"This is good of you to come so soon! And I am alone, so we can have a
delightful chat all to ourselves. Bring tea, Wilson, please. Do come
and sit down, and let me make you comfortable! My aunt is not
downstairs to-day, and I was getting so bored with my own society that I
am doubly pleased to see you! There are so few girls of my own age in
this neighbourhood that I find it rather dull after the rush and bustle
of town. It is so good of you to be here at the same time as me!"
"It is very nice for us," responded Mollie brightly; while truthful Ruth
hesitated to find some reply which would be at once polite and non-
committal. "But isn't it a strange time for you to come to this quiet
place, when London is at its brightest and gayest?"
"Ah, thereby hang many tales!" cried Lady Margot, laughing. "The most
important is, perhaps, that I am not strong enough to go through a
season just now; but I have no intention of being dull even in Raby. We
must amuse each other and do all kinds of nice things together. The
great lack on my visits, so far, has been to find any other girls with
whom I could be intimate; but now that you are here it will be quite
different."
"But we are only country-cousins, Lady Margot. You will find that we
are very ignorant of the things that have made up your life. We are
very poor at home, and have had to do most of our gaieties in
imagination," said Ruth; while Mollie gave a little gurgle of laughter,
and cried--
"Let's tell her about Berengaria and Lucille!"
Lady Margot looked her curiosity, and, when the nature of the game was
explained in detail in Mollie's breezy language, went into peals of
delighted laughter, and rocked to and fro in her chair.
"How lovely--oh, how lovely! I do think it is too funny! I must call
you Berengaria and Lucille. Do you mind? Such wonderful names! How
did you manage to hit on them? I used to imagine, too; and what do you
think was my dream? Instead of being a lonely only girl, I was a large
family of grown-up sisters, and schoolboys coming home for the holidays,
and little dots in the nursery--all in my own little self. You can't
imagine how dull it is to be an only girl!"
"No," asserted Ruth doubtfully. "But rather nice to get all the petting
and consideration! When you are the eldest of seven children, you are
always expected to set an example, and it is very wearing at times. How
delightful that you amused yourself `pretending,' just as we did! That
makes quite a bond of union between us!"
"Yes, indeed! But lucky creatures, your dream seems about to come true,
while I am as lonely as ever. Your position at the Court is so
romantic! You don't mind my speaking about it, do you, because everyone
knows, and is so interested in the result? Of course, one of you must
be the lucky heir; and then we shall be neighbours, and see each other
constantly. Which is it to be--Berengaria, or Lucille?"
"Mollie!" said Ruth.
"Ruth!" said Mollie. "Don't believe her, Lady Margot. She is a wee bit
out of favour the last few days, but I haven't a chance beside her. She
has the Farrell eyebrows, you see, and the Farrell frown, and poise of
the head. When she is sitting in the dining-room, you could tell at
once that she was a descendant of the oil-paintings. I often see Uncle
Bernard looking from her to them, and he is far more amiable to her than
to any of us, as a rule. We all agree that she is far and away the
chief favourite."
"Really! You discuss it among yourselves, and come to the same
conclusions. How interesting!" said Lady Margot. "And the two men--
your cousins--do they have no chance at all, poor things?" she asked
lightly.
"They are not our cousins. They belong to different sides of the house,
and we had never met till we came down here. Mr Melland refuses to be
considered as a `candidate,' and is staying only till his ankle is
better. Mr Druce,"--Ruth hesitated uncertainly--"he is very nice to
Uncle Bernard. They talk together a good deal. Sometimes I think his
chance is very good."
"He is certainly second favourite, so far; but we have more than two
months still before us. I intend to cut them both out long before then.
May I have one of those dear little scones? I am quite hungry after my
drive!" Mollie said, as she in turn was presented with a dainty
Worcester cup.
She watched Lady Margot with intent eyes, as she flitted about the room,
placing little tables beside her guests for their greater convenience.
"Such a plain dress, and almost no jewellery, and her hair so simply
done; but she looks a Lucille through and through, as I should never do,
however fine I might be!" she said admiringly to herself.
"We must think what we shall do to amuse ourselves, mustn't we? You
have begun your round of dinners already, I hear; but in Raby they are
apt to be a trifle too agricultural. All the men talk about their crops
at this time of the year, and, as the prospects are generally bad, they
get gloomier and gloomier as each course comes on. Mr Druce told me
that Mr Early has paid you a visitation, so, if you take his
conversation as a sample, you can judge of the combined effect. I don't
ask what he talked about, because I know!"
"Yes," murmured Ruth vaguely, while her eye met Mollie's in an
involuntary appeal. "Mr Druce told me!"--But Mr Early's call had
taken place only three days before, nearly a week after Lady Margot's
visit to the Court. "Mr Druce told me!" That meant that Margot had
met Victor yesterday or the day before, and had talked with him some
time, for the prosy Mr Early would not be an early subject of
conversation. Victor often went out riding alone, and there was no
reason in the world why he should not call on an old acquaintance. But
why make a mystery of it, and avoid the call to-day by an obvious
subterfuge? Ruth was very quiet for the rest of the visit, and Lady
Margot glanced at her more than once as she chatted with Mollie. When
tea was over she came out to the porch to watch their departure.
"_Au revoir_, Berengaria--_au revoir_, Lucille!" she cried gaily, as the
carriage drove away; but as she turned from the door, the smile faded
from her face, and was replaced by a very thoughtful expression.
"I see--I see it all! Poor pretty thing!" she said tenderly to herself.
"I am sorry for her and for poor Margot, too! Which of us, I wonder,
is the more to be pitied?"