_July 20th_.
Rachel was surprised when I told her that I knew her secret, and I don't
think she was pleased.
"Will told you! Will told you himself!" she repeated, and stared at me
in a puzzled, curious fashion, as if she wondered why on earth he should
have chosen to make a confidante of me. "It is hardly a regular
engagement, for father will not hear of my leaving home, and the waiting
may be so long that I have told Will it is not fair to bind him. He
says he is content to wait, but we agreed to speak about it as little as
possible for some time to come."
"Oh, well, I'll keep the secret. You need not be afraid that I shall
gossip about you," I told her. She wears no ring on her engagement
finger, but always, always--morning, noon and night--there is a little
diamond anchor pinned in the front of her dress. I suppose he has given
her that instead, as a symbol of hope--hope that in ten or a dozen
years, when she is an old thing over thirty, they may possibly be
married! Well, I can imagine Rachel waiting twenty years, if it comes
to that, and keeping quite happy and serene meantime; but Will Dudley is
different--so quick and energetic and keen. I could not have imagined
him so patient.
Yesterday Vere came home, bringing her friends with her, and already
Rachel and her love affair seems far away, and we live in such a bustle
and confusion that there is no time to think. I'm rather glad, for I
was getting quite dull and mopey. They arrived about five in the
afternoon, and came trooping into the hall, where tea was waiting. Two
girls and three men, and Vere herself, prettier than ever, but with just
the old, aggravating, condescending way.
"Hallo, Babs! Is that you transformed into a young lady in long
dresses, and your hair done up? You dear, fat thing, how ridiculous you
look!" she cried, holding me out at arm's length, and laughing as if it
were the funniest joke in the world, while those three strange men stood
by staring, and I grew magenta with embarrassment.
One of the men was tall and handsome, with a long, narrow face, and
small, narrow eyes; he laughed with her, and I hated him for it, and for
having so little sympathy with a poor girl's feelings. Another was
small, with a strong, square-set figure, and he looked sorry for me; and
the third looked on the floor, and frowned as if something had hurt his
feelings. He was the oldest and gravest-looking of the three, and I
knew before he had been ten minutes in the room that he adored Vere with
his heart, and disapproved of her with his conscience, and was miserable
every time she did or said a thoughtless thing.
"I told you I had a smaller sister at home--here she is! Rather bigger
than I expected, but not much changed in other respects. Don't be shy,
Babs! Shake hands nicely, and be friends!" Vere cried laughingly,
taking me by the shoulders and pushing me gently towards where the men
stood; but, just as I was fuming with rage at being treated as if I were
two, father came suddenly from behind, and said in his most grand
seigneur manner--
"Allow me, Vere! If an introduction is made at all, it is best to make
it properly. Captain Grantly, Mr Nash, Mr Carstairs, I have the
honour of introducing you to my second daughter, Miss Una Sackville."
The change of expression on the men's faces was comical to behold.
Captain Grantly, the narrow-faced one, bowed as if I had been the Queen,
and the nice little man smiled at me as if he were pleased--he was Mr
Nash, and poor Mr Carstairs flushed as if he had been snubbed himself;
I was quite sorry for him.
The girls were very lively and bright, spoke in loud voices, and behaved
as if they had lived in the house all their lives, which is supposed to
be good manners nowadays. Margot Sanders is tall and fair, and wears
eye-glasses, and Mary Eversley, who is "Lady Mary," would have been
considered very unladylike indeed at our polite seminary.
It seems to be fashionable nowadays for a girl to behave as much like a
man as possible, and to smoke and shout, and stand with her arms behind
her back, and lounge about anyhow on her chair. Well, I won't! I don't
care if it's fashionable or not! I'd rather have been a boy if I'd had
the choice, but as I am a girl I'll make the best of it, and be as nice
a specimen as I can. Lorna says a girl ought to be like a flower--
sweet, modest and fragrant; she's a bit sentimental when you get her
alone, but I agree with the idea, though I should not have expressed it
in the same way. If I were a man I should hate to marry a girl who
smelt of tobacco and shrieked like a steam whistle. I'd like a dear,
dainty thing with a soft voice and pretty, womanly ways. I hereby vow
and declare that I will stick to my colours, and set an example to those
old things who ought to know better. Lady Mary must be twenty-five if
she is a day. I don't expect she will ever be married now. With the
clear-sighted gaze of youth, I can see that she is hiding a broken heart
beneath the mask of mirth. Life is frightfully exciting when you have
the gift of penetrating below the surface.
Will Dudley came to dinner; he was the only stranger, as he made the
number even. I wore my new white chiffon, and thought I looked very
fine till I went downstairs and saw the others. They were smart, and
Vere looked lovely, and did the honours so charmingly that even mother
seemed to make way for her. Poor mother! she looked so happy; she dotes
on Vere, and is so proud of her; it does seem hard she doesn't have more
of her society! I felt sad somehow, and sort of lonely as I watched
them together--Vere fussing round and saying pretty, flattering little
speeches, and mother smiling at her so tenderly. I feel nice things,
too, but I can't say them to order; my lips seem all tight and horrid,
as if they wouldn't move. I felt like the elder brother in the parable,
because I really have denied myself, and been bored fearfully sometimes
these last weeks doing fancy-work with mother, and driving about shut up
in a horrid, close carriage, while Vere has been gadding about and
enjoying herself; and then the moment she comes home I am nowhere beside
her! Injustices like this sear the heart, and make one old before one's
time.
I suppose I looked sad, for Will Dudley crossed over the room to talk to
me.
"Aren't you well?" he asked, and his eyes looked so anxious and worried
that it quite comforted me.
"I have rather a headache," I began, without thinking of what I was
saying, and then, (somehow I never can help telling him exactly how I
feel), I stopped, and contradicted myself flat. "I'm perfectly well,
but I think I'm jealous. I have been the only child for so long, and
now my poor little nose is out of joint, and I don't like it a bit. It
aches."
I thought he would sympathise and protest that I could never be
superseded, in his opinion at least, but he just sighed, and said
slowly--
"Yes, she is very lovely! It must be a great responsibility to have a
face as beautiful as hers, with all the influence over others that is
its accompaniment!" and looked straight across the room to where Vere
stood beneath the shaded lamp.
She was not looking in our direction; but, as if she felt his gaze
without seeing it, she turned her head slowly round and raised her eyes
to his, and so they stood while you could have counted ten, staring,
staring, straight into each other's eyes, and I saw the colour fade
gradually out of Vere's face, as though she were frightened by what she
saw. That is the way people fall in love! I've read about it in books.
They sort of recognise each other when they meet, even if they are
perfect strangers, and Lorna says it is the soul recognising its mate.
But I know well enough that Vere would never satisfy Will Dudley, and,
besides, there is Rachel--poor patient Rachel, who trusts him so
faithfully. I looked up quickly to see if he had turned pale also. He
was rather white, but there was a curious little smile about the corners
of his lips which quietened my fears. I should not have liked that
smile if I had been Vere. There was something contemptuous in it
despite its admiration, and a sort of defiance, too, as if he were
quite, quite sure of himself and secure from all temptation; but then
they do begin like that sometimes, and the siren weaves on them her
spells, and they succumb. I wonder how it will end with Vere and Will
Dudley!