AN INVITATION.
If any girl failed to enjoy herself on the following Saturday at
Dartford, she had certainly only herself to blame. As a matter of fact,
the whole seven, without exception, had a right good time. Even Lucy
forgot her jealousies, and even Rosamund forgot her anger. They were so
much interested in Mrs. Brett and her husband, in the things they did,
and the things they could tell, and the things they could show, and the
whole manner of their lives, that they forgot themselves.
Now, to forget yourself is the very road to bliss. Many people take a
long time finding out that most simple secret. When they do find it out
and act on it they invariably live a life of great happiness and
equanimity, and are a great blessing to other people. Lucy and Rosamund
were far--very far--from such a desirable goal, but for a few hours they
did act upon this simple and noble idea of life, and in consequence were
happy.
But Saturday at the Bretts', with all its bliss, came to an end, and the
girls returned to beautiful Sunnyside and to the life of the new and
rather strangely managed school.
Sunday was a long and dreary day, at least in Rosamund's eyes, and but
for an incident which occurred immediately after morning service, she
scarcely knew how she could have got through it.
Mr. Merriman had a pew at one end of the church, which had belonged to
his people for generations, and which was not altered when the rest of
the church was restored. It was large enough now to hold his wife and
himself and the seven girls; but the two teachers were accommodated in
another part of the church. Rosamund found herself during the service
seated next to Mr. Merriman. It was the first time she had really
closely observed him, and she now noticed several peculiarities which
interested her a good deal. He had a dignified and very noble presence.
He was tall, with broad shoulders, had an aquiline nose, very piercing
dark eyes, black hair, which he wore somewhat long, and an olive-tinted
face.
Lucy did not in the least resemble her father, but took more after her
mother, who was round and fat, and proportionately commonplace. Rosamund
at first felt no degree of elation when her place was pointed out to her
next to the Professor. But suddenly encountering Lucy's angry eyes, she
began to take a naughty comfort to herself in her unexpected proximity.
She drew a little closer to him on purpose to annoy Lucy; and then, when
she found that he was short-sighted and could not find his places, she
found them for him, thus adding to poor Lucy's torment; for this had
once been Lucy's own seat, and she herself had seen to her father's
comforts. From attending on him, Rosamund began to watch him, and then
she found a good deal of food for meditation. In short, it is to be
feared that she did not follow the service as she ought to have done.
For the matter of that, neither did Lucy.
The Rectory near Sunnyside was occupied by a clergyman who had several
young daughters. These girls were very prepossessing in appearance.
Their father was a widower, their mother having died some years ago.
There were six girls, and as they trooped up the aisle, two by two, they
attracted Rosamund's attention. They were dressed very simply in
different shades of green. The two eldest had the darkest tone of color,
both in their hats and their quiet little costumes. The two next had
one shade lighter and the two youngest one shade lighter again. They
looked something like leaves as they went up the church, and they all
had one special characteristic--a great wealth of golden-brown hair,
which hung far down their backs. The two eldest girls must have varied
in age between fourteen and twelve, the two next between ten and eight,
and the little ones between seven and five. They had quiet, neatly cut
features, and serene eyes. They walked up the church very sedately, and
took their places in the Rectory pew. Rosamund longed to ask a thousand
questions about them. They were so much more interesting than the girls
who were staying at Sunnyside; they were so fresh, and their dress so
out of the common.
A somewhat prim and very neatly dressed governess followed the six girls
up the aisle and took her place at the end of the pew. But Rosamund
could still see from where she sat the heads with the six green hats and
the wealth of fair hair hanging below. She was full of interest, and
altogether her thoughts were occupied first by the Professor and then
with her neighbors.
By-and-by the rustle of a very rich silk caused her to turn her
attention again to the outside world, and she observed a lady of about
forty-five years of age, richly dressed in deep mourning, with a good
deal of crape and a widow's bonnet, walking up the church. This lady
entered a pew which she occupied all alone.
Then the choir, the rector, and the curate appeared, and the service
began. It began, went on, and finished. Just as it came to a conclusion,
Mrs. Merriman, bending towards Rosamund, said, "We will wait, if you
please, until the rest of the congregation have dispersed. I am anxious
to see Mr. Singleton, to ask him a question."
Rosamund wondered who Mr. Singleton was. But she was only too anxious
to see her neighbors leaving the church, and was pleased at the idea of
waiting.
The congregation filed down the centre aisle one by one, in orderly
fashion, and the six little girls in their green costumes and their fair
hair disappeared from view. The elderly governess primly followed, and
then the lady in black silk also left her pew. But as she did so she
paused and said something to the verger, who was in the aisle. Rosamund,
whose eyes were fixed on her, noticed that the verger pointed to the pew
in which she herself was sitting, and a minute later the lady came to
the door of the pew and said something in a very low voice to Mrs.
Merriman.
To Rosamund's amazement, Mrs. Merriman stretched out her hand across the
pew and took one of hers.
"My dear, Lady Jane Ashleigh, an old friend of your mother's, wishes to
see you. Will you go very quietly out, talk to her for a minute or two
outside the church, and then wait for us in the porch?"
Rosamund obeyed, filled with the keenest interest. Lady Jane walked on
in front, and Rosamund followed. They both entered the porch, whereupon
the widow turned, grasped one of Rosamund's hands, and said, "If it were
not church-time I should long to kiss you. I was a very, very great
friend of your mother's. She wrote to me two days ago to say that you
were coming to live here. I intended to call yesterday, but was
prevented. I came to church to-day hoping to make your acquaintance.
When will you come and see me? Can you come this afternoon?"
"Oh, indeed I can!" said Rosamund. "I remember mother quite well telling
me about you. Your name used to be Lady Jane Stanisford, was it not?"
"Quite right, my dear. Oh, what a look you have of your mother! You must
come and spend the rest of the day with me. You can come now; you can
come in my carriage."
"Oh! I ought not to, for the others will be waiting for me."
"I will wait with you here. But no; I must hurry home at once. Then come
this afternoon, and bring any one of your school friends that you like.
I shall be glad to see you and to talk over old times. Dear Mrs.
Merriman, she is a great friend of mine. Give her my love, and a message
that you are to come and have tea with me, and supper, too. I will send
you back to Sunnyside in my carriage late this evening. Good-bye for the
present, dear."
It was a very beaming face that greeted Lucy and the rest of the party
when, accompanied by Mr. Singleton (the father of the fair-haired girls,
and the rector of the parish), they all appeared in the church porch.
Lucy went straight up to Rosamund.
"What in the world are you smiling at?" she said. "You look as though
you were thinking of something extremely funny; and it makes your face
look so strange, not at all like the face of a person who has just been
in church."
"Will you introduce me, Miss Lucy, to this young lady?" said Mr.
Singleton's pleasant voice.
Lucy was obliged to comply. She muttered the introduction in a somewhat
surly tone; but Mr. Singleton was by no means proof against Rosamund's
bright and clever face, her smile, which was now quite charming, and her
animated manner.
"You must come and spend a day with my little girls--that is, when you
can obtain leave," he said.--"Ah, Mrs. Merriman! it will be very unlike
you to be over strict with your young people. They must all come to the
Rectory. When is your next half-holiday?"
"You must ask Miss Archer," said Mrs. Merriman.
Miss Archer replied that Wednesdays and Saturdays would be
half-holidays, and Mr. Singleton clinched the invitation by asking the
party to the Rectory for the following Wednesday.
On their way home Rosamund left Lucy's side, with whom she had been
walking, and ran up to Mrs. Merriman.
"Lady Jane Ashleigh is a friend of mother's, and she has asked me to go
to her after lunch to spend the rest of the day with her. May I go?"
"Not on Sundays, dear. We never allow our young people to pay visits on
Sundays," said the professor, just turning his head and glancing kindly
at Rosamund.
The smile vanished from her countenance. She colored high with
annoyance.
"But I promised her I would go, and she is an old friend of mother's,
and please may I go on this occasion?"
"I make a rule which cannot be broken, that no girls accept invitations
for Sunday. That is the end of the matter."
He turned to speak to his wife, without giving Rosamund any further
thought. He was feeling ill that day--worse than usual--and he did not
notice the consternation, rage, and also determination which filled
Rosamund's face. Lucy had not heard her words, but she exclaimed eagerly
when the girl returned to her place among her school-fellows, "Well,
what is it? What did Lady Jane say to you?"
"Oh, nothing--nothing particular."
"But you did seem so eager and pleased. You don't look at all pleased
now."
"She said nothing in particular, really. How nice that field looks, with
all that grass growing up so green after the haymaking."
"Oh, don't talk platitudes," said Lucy. She watched Rosamund narrowly.
By-and-by they reached the house. Rosamund went straight up to her own
room. There such a wave of passion, anger, and revolt swept over her
that she scarcely knew herself.
"I will go. I won't obey. Mother wrote to her about me. She is mother's
friend. I will slip off and spend the day with her, and take the
consequences, whatever they may be. I cannot stand those girls, and she
is delightful! I win go to her, come what may."
Jane Denton did not understand Rosamund as she brushed her long hair and
tidied herself for the early dinner.