A Colony of Girls Part 23

"Mr. Farr, have you heard anything of the Saunders since you left Washington?"

Farr had no alternative but to reply to so direct a question, and Jean, although annoyed at the unwelcome interruption, waited patiently, confident that he would seize upon the first opportunity to resume his conversation with her. As the moments pa.s.sed, however, and his undivided attention was still given to Miss Stuart, she was first hurt, and then bitterly angry. A lump rose in her throat, and for one miserable moment she thought she was going to cry; then her pride came to her rescue, and under an almost reckless gayety of speech and manner she hid her momentary weakness. It was unjust and unreasonable to blame Farr, but Jean was in no frame of mind for logical argument.

He had turned away from her to speak to Miss Stuart, and although she had given him ample time to take up the broken thread of their discourse, he had failed to do so. As she talked on excitedly with Dudley, her cheeks burning, her eyes dark and restless, she was mentally comparing herself with Miss Stuart, whom she had already almost unconsciously begun to regard as her rival. She had always known that Helen's friend was beautiful, but to-night her newly awakened jealousy caused her to lay great stress on the brilliancy and fascination of their guest. She recalled, with curious distinctness, the image of herself which the mirror had shown her while she awaited Farr's coming, and her heart contracted as she thought how colorless she must appear in contrast with Miss Stuart's rich and vivid beauty.

When at length Farr was once more at liberty to address her, she had worked herself up to such a pitch of miserable jealousy that she would have none of him, and took an almost savage delight in thwarting his every attempt at speech with her. He was too reserved to let her see how deeply he was wounded by her flippancy and incivility, and, in his apparent indifference, Jean found an added proof of his disloyalty and of her own unpardonable folly. She had almost come to the end of her courage, when Helen rose, giving the signal to the ladies to withdraw.

Helen sat down before the open piano, and Nathalie picked up her mandolin from the music stand and began to tune it. When she had finished she spoke in a low tone to her sister:

"Let's play Guy's old favorite, will you, dear?"

Helen complied, but not before she had cast a half-guilty glance across the room to where Miss Stuart was gracefully reclining in a huge armchair, to satisfy herself that the mention of her lover's name had escaped her friend's notice. The piano took up the accompanying strains of a soft _andante_, the mandolin carrying the air with its tremulous and strangely human wail.

Jean leaned her face on her hand as she nestled down among the cushions on the divan. Her good angel was whispering to her in the sweet harmony of the music, and gentler thoughts of her lover were prevailing against the cruel doubts of him which her jealousy had taught her. After all, had not Miss Stuart been chiefly at fault, and had he not honestly striven to make amends?

"It is entirely the result of my morbid dislike of that girl," she said to herself; and when the officers came out from the dining room, she gave Farr a bright glance of welcome, and when he had joined her, she talked to him until her persistent gentleness had completely melted away the barrier of reserve which had crept between them. Once or twice it was on the tip of her tongue to say, "Why did you never tell me that you knew Miss Stuart?" but the words, held back by a foolish sentiment of pride, never pa.s.sed her lips.

Meanwhile Farr, although touched by the sweet friendliness, was more disheartened than he quite cared to own. He had allowed his hope to grow too quickly, founded on that one honest glance from Jean's eyes, a glance so full of love and trust that he had felt he could not be deceived. Scarcely had he told himself that his happiness was a.s.sured when Jean's coldness had denied the love which her eyes had bespoken.

No suspicion of the truth had crossed his mind, and as Jean had never been given to moods, he was left to the discouraging conclusion that he had been too hasty and that she was resenting it. She was willing now to treat him with her old-time cordial frankness, for having once clearly defined their relative positions, she was too courteous to continue a course of treatment which she must have seen had greatly pained him. Never until he had reached this unhappy decision had he realized how strong and deep-rooted was his love for Jean. As his eyes rested on her, a longing seized him to take her in his arms, and to bring back to her face that look which had given him such promise of joy.

His unexpected meeting with Miss Stuart had brought back to his memory the foolish impetuosity, the pa.s.sionate unrest of his boyish love for her, and he thanked G.o.d for the wholesome lesson he had learned, and prayed earnestly for the love of this young girl, whose truth and sincerity stirred all the dormant possibilities of his higher nature.

With these thoughts in his mind his eyes wandered across the room to where Lillian Stuart sat talking with Dudley. He acknowledged the force and charm of her rare exotic beauty, but it moved him not at all. Her effective pose was studied and artificial. Her face, so perfect in contour, was lacking in any suggestion of tender womanliness, and her glorious eyes, now raised to Dudley's, although full of the power of expression, revealed no depth of soul.

It was refreshing to him to turn once more to Jean, to meet the dear laughter-loving eyes, to watch the fleeting changes of expression on her bonny face, to mark the unconscious grace of every movement of her lithe, slender figure. Yet, the secret of Jean's strong hold on his heart lay not in these superficial attractions, nor in her frank simplicity of manner, nor yet in her girlish freshness, which was her greatest claim to beauty, but in the knowledge he had gained of her true nature; a nature so honest, so unfailing in loyalty, so unselfish, so charitable, so responsive in its sympathies, that both respect and reverence were blended with his love for her. And yet he was not wholly blind to her faults. He knew that she was impatient and hot-tempered, and that, in anger, she was often sarcastic and cutting; but he also saw that she made a brave effort to hold herself in check, and that, however she might be worsted, she never ceased to struggle for the mastery. His meditations had carried him far adrift of the conversation, but although Jean had observed his abstraction, she did not resent it. She was living in a day-dream herself, a dream that was all the happier for that miserable hour at the dinner-table. She rose with a regretful sigh when Helen asked her to go up with a message to Aunt Helen. She looked up at Farr as he held back the portiere for her to pa.s.s, and impulsively put out her hand to him.

"We are friends again, are we not?" she asked scarcely above her breath.

Farr gripped the little hand so tightly it almost hurt her.

"Only friends, Jean?" was all he said; but Jean was satisfied.

Aunt Helen detained her for some few moments with questions about the dinner, and when at last she was free Mary called to her to please step into the nursery, for Larry was wakeful and naughty and would not be quiet. Quite a half-hour had pa.s.sed before she re-entered the drawing-room.

She paused on the threshold, attracted by Farr's voice. He was seated just within the doorway. His back was turned toward her and he faced Miss Stuart, who was leaning slightly forward in her chair.

"You are mistaken," he was saying. "I remember everything about that evening, to the color of the gown you wore."

Before the conclusion of this sentence Miss Stuart had detected Jean, half hidden by the heavy portiere.

"Those were pleasant days in Washington, Val," she said, accompanying the words with a faint sigh.

Jean, never dreaming that she had been seen, retreated precipitately to a far corner of the hall, and when she once more entered the room her face was pale, but she held her head well up, and with a low "I beg your pardon," swept by the two, who still maintained their positions.

That night Miss Stuart's light burned until a late hour, and in response to Helen's gentle inquiry as to the cause thereof she gave through the closed door, but a curt "Good-night."

CHAPTER XIII.

AN INVITATION.

Wednesday brought the return of the _Sylph_ from her cruise. The men, tanned and burned by exposure to wind and sun, were in great spirits, and declared themselves ready for any sport that might be suggested.

The girls rallied forces, and in solemn conclave bade them extend their vacation one more week, that Miss Stuart might be amused and entertained. They drew a pathetic picture of her first week in Hetherford, and maintained that it would be rank disloyalty to allow her to go away with such an impression of the beloved place.

In the confusion of tongues two voices were silent. Emily and Jean each had her own reason for wishing Miss Stuart a thousand miles away, and both looked a little contemptuous at the excitement that was being made over her. However, their lack of interest did not dampen the enthusiasm of the others, and the day was carried. The men did not need a great deal of urging, for they had already met Miss Stuart, and were eloquent in their praises of her. d.i.c.k Andrews succ.u.mbed at once to the tender pa.s.sion, much to everybody's amus.e.m.e.nt, for jolly d.i.c.k in the role of lovesick swain was a most diverting spectacle.

Andrews did not have it all his own way, however, for Miss Stuart, with an exception in Farr's favor, treated them quite impartially. It was conceded that Farr, as an old friend, had a prior right, and no one marveled that Miss Stuart's manner toward him was particularly gracious and amiable. They were much in each other's society, and so diplomatic was Miss Stuart, that no one discerned that their frequent _tete-a-tetes_ were invariably of her planning.

It must be said, however, that Farr made no resistance and appeared eminently at ease with her. He was sorely wounded, and as angry with Jean as it was possible for him to be; and in this dejected and unenviable frame of mind, he took small heed of what he did with his time. Monday night when, at Helen's request, Jean had left the drawing-room, she had distinctly bade him hope. One hour later, she had again veered round and had treated him with a contemptuous indifference which he felt he had in no way deserved. Even then he had tried to believe that his imagination was at fault, but when she had purposely overlooked the hand which he had extended to her in parting, he could no longer deceive himself. Unfortunately, Miss Stuart had seen the slight which Jean had put upon him, and the faint smile of amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes when she had said, "good-night" to him but deepened the sting. In a tempest of rage he flung himself out of the house and strode furiously down the avenue, leaving poor Dudley far behind, to wonder what on earth was the matter.

It was not easy for Farr with his nature to forgive a repulse, and on Tuesday he kept to the _Vortex_, nursing his wrongs, and vowing he would take no step to make matters right between them until Jean should show some sign of penitence. By Wednesday this determination was less firm, and during the hours of his work and leisure his heart was pleading for Jean. When evening came he gave up the struggle, and at nine o'clock presented himself at the manor.

The light that streamed out through the open door and windows revealed quite a number of people on the veranda, and he remembered that he had observed the _Sylph_ riding at anchor in the harbor. They gave him a hearty welcome, and while Nathalie was rallying him for his unkind desertion of them, he vainly tried to discover Jean's whereabouts. His inability to do so was soon explained.

"Where did Jean go?" Nathalie asked.

Eleanor answered from the corner of the veranda:

"She went in the house a little while ago."

"Send Susie up for her, Nathalie," Helen requested.

Farr took a seat on the railing at a point which commanded a view of the hall; and found himself face to face with Miss Stuart, who was tilting slowly back and forth in a deep rocker. They had interchanged one or two commonplace remarks when a maid tripped across the hall and stood in the doorway.

"Miss Jean begs to be excused," she announced briefly, and disappeared into the darkened dining room beyond.

Farr drew a quick breath, and a frown contracted his brows. He could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. With a characteristic gesture, he pulled his cap down over his eyes and set his teeth. Miss Stuart remembered the trick of old. She watched him furtively, with a curious light in her eyes. Suddenly he recalled her existence, but when he looked at her she had already averted her gaze and was apparently quite unconscious that anything of importance had taken place.

She gave him a few moments in which to recover himself, and then addressed to him some pa.s.sing observation on a subject quite alien to Hetherford or the Hetherford girls. Farr, animated by a strong desire to hide his pain and disappointment from every eye, braced himself and replied in a vein of lightness which satisfied her that she had been wise in the course which she had adopted. They drifted quite naturally into conventional small-talk, and every moment he gained more a.s.surance and ease. He was positively grateful for Miss Stuart's presence, for it afforded him a refuge from intercourse with those simple-hearted Hetherford girls, which he felt would, just now, be very disastrous to his self-control. No thought of danger a.s.sailed him. He believed Miss Stuart's sentiment for him to be quite dead; and as for himself he had so completely outlived every trace of his boyish pa.s.sion as to have even lost all feeling of resentment against her. He congratulated himself with true masculine density that he had probed the depths of Miss Stuart's nature, and could never be outwitted by her again. Some day, if things went well with him, he meant to tell Jean all about that affair; in fact, he would have done so Monday evening, had he not felt that it would scarcely be in good taste to discuss the subject with Miss Stuart almost within ear-shot. In the meantime it did not distress him in the least to defer the telling of the story; for Jean, of course, knew nothing whatever of the matter, and it was extremely improbable that Miss Stuart would ever take the pains to enlighten her. In justice to Farr it should be said that he had completely forgotten the incident of the shrubbery which had meant so much to Jean, and he was not aware of the words that she had overheard, and of the construction that she had not unnaturally put upon them.

And all this while poor little Jean lay on the sofa, in her darkened room, sobbing as if her heart would break. She had waited so patiently on Tuesday, hoping against hope that he would come and explain everything to her. For, of course, there was something to explain, else why had he so distinctly avoided all mention of Miss Stuart, even when she had asked him if he knew her?

"He has a right to his past," she said to herself, with quivering lips; "but, oh! if they were such old friends, if she calls him Val, if he remembers one evening with her even to the color of her gown, he might--oh! he might have remembered to speak of her to me."

The more she thought it over the greater seemed the proofs of his deception. If he and Miss Stuart had been old friends and nothing more, it would have been his natural impulse to speak of his surprise and pleasure at meeting her at the manor. He had failed to do so, and, with despair in her heart, Jean told herself that he must have had some strong reason for his silence.

Tuesday wore away, and still no word had come from him. She determined not to let Miss Stuart see how unhappy she was, so kept about with the others, and entered into all their plans with forced gayety. When half-past nine struck on Wednesday evening, she gave up all hope of seeing him, for they were very informal in Hetherford, and kept early hours. She went up to her room, and as she slipped on her wrapper, she fell to crying, and when Susie knocked and announced Farr, she was too disfigured by her tears to think of going down. The disappointment was very keen.

"Please excuse me, Susie," she called through the closed door. "I am sorry, but I am lying down."

As she heard the maid's retreating step she would fain have recalled her, and sent some other message, but it was too late.

The next day, on the decks of the _Sylph_, Farr and Jean met for the first time since Monday. Jean came aboard fully resolved to tender an apology for having excused herself on the previous evening. She had never lacked self-confidence before, but to-day she could scarcely pluck up courage to speak to him. Timidly she made her first friendly overtures, only to be met with an unmistakable rebuff. Farr answered the questions she put to him, but with a studied indifference which made her cheeks tingle; to make matters worse he presently sauntered off from the group of which Jean made one, and joined Miss Stuart, who was seated a short distance away. Jean's face grew hard as she stifled the sob which rose in her throat, and she registered a vow that never again would she give him an opportunity to treat her so slightingly. It was unmanly and unmannerly, and she had done with him forever. She did not flinch from the path she laid out for herself, and so successfully did she play the part that d.i.c.k and Mollie, walking home in the cool of the evening, declared that it was like the good old days to have Jean so jolly and full of fun.

Miss Stuart meanwhile was content to keep Farr at her side, despite the fact that he was a most morose and taciturn companion. She knew wherein lay her advantage, and although the knowledge was not flattering to her self-pride, it did not prevent her from making the best of her opportunities. It was galling to her that Jean had the power to make him so miserable, but the trouble between them served her purpose very well for the present. As she talked to him pleasantly, she did not seem to notice that his replies were monosyllabic, and that he watched Jean's every movement with gloomy eyes. She was a clever woman, with a rare gift of conversation, and ere long her tactful efforts were rewarded, and Farr, roused from his abstraction, shook himself out of his ill-humor. In the course of the day he made one or two attempts at a reconciliation with Jean, but as both she and Miss Stuart had concentrated their energies to prevent his accomplishing his purpose, he failed signally.

As day followed day, the breach between Jean and her lover was not healed, and no hand was stretched forth to stay its ever-widening limits.