A Colony of Girls Part 24

"Lillian!"

Miss Stuart laid down her book, and looked expectantly up at Helen.

"I have a suggestion to make for this afternoon. How would you like to drive over to Crescent Beach to call on Mrs. Maynard?"

"I agree to the drive," replied Miss Stuart, stifling a yawn, "but why must we call on that stupid woman? She always bores me to death."

There was a ring of annoyance in Helen's voice as she answered:

"Oh, it is not at all necessary for you to go with me. One of my sisters would be delighted to do so."

"So much the better, my dear," said Miss Stuart indifferently, as she picked up her book and resumed her reading.

"Why are you so down on little Mrs. Maynard?" queried Wendell Churchill, emerging from a recess of the window where he and Nathalie had been whiling away the morning hours with mandolin and banjo.

"I am not down on her in the least, but I think she is uninteresting to a degree."

She paused until the portieres had closed on Helen's retreating figure, and then met Churchill's eyes with a meaning smile.

"It is not surprising, is it, that her husband should find Mrs.

Desborough a pleasing contrast?"

In her far-away corner hot-tempered Nathalie caught the words and flared up in defense of her friend:

"Oh, I think it is a shame to speak so. Mrs. Maynard is unhappy, but no woman ever bore unhappiness with greater dignity. It seems to me incredible that everybody's sympathies are not enlisted on her side."

"I am very unfortunate," returned Miss Stuart with thinly veiled sarcasm. "This is the second time I have erred in this way. I must be more careful in future not to give expression to my opinions."

Churchill saw that some unpleasantness was imminent, and, manlike, rushed in only to make matters worse.

"Don't you think Miss Nathalie looks very much like Mrs. Desborough? I have so often noticed the resemblance."

With blazing eyes, Nathalie started up from the low window-seat.

"From all I know of her, I cannot feel flattered by the compliment,"

and, with this parting shot, she thrust open the French windows and flew out on the veranda.

"Dear, dear," murmured Miss Stuart in mock dismay, "what a tempest in a teapot. Those girls are terribly spoiled, and it is all Helen's fault. She is unpardonably weak with them."

Churchill was very much embarra.s.sed by the position in which he found himself. He extricated himself by muttering something barely intelligible, to the effect that the Lawrences were so much attached to each other, and then retreated hastily to find Nathalie and reinstate himself in her good graces.

When afternoon came Miss Stuart relented and she and Helen, with little Gladys between them, started off in the buckboard for Crescent Beach. It was a beautiful drive. For a short distance the road wound through fragrant meadows and wooded lanes until it came out upon the beach, where for several miles it led straight away over the hardened sands. They bowled swiftly along, the fresh salt wind blowing in their faces, the soothing sound of the ebb and flow of the restless waters breaking softly on their ears.

Miss Stuart, exhilarated by the clear air, the brilliant sunshine and the congenial companionship of this friend whom she really loved, had never appeared to a greater advantage. It was the Lillian Stuart who might have been whose cleverness and glancing wit held Helen's mind enthralled, as they talked of all the subjects dear to women's hearts.

All too soon they reached their destination. As they drew up under the _porte-cochere_ of the hotel, Helen found herself wishing with all her heart that Lillian might continue in so charming a mood.

Presently Mrs. Maynard joined them in the vast hotel parlor, and as Miss Stuart went forward to greet her with great cordiality, Helen had no fault to find with her manner. They chatted together for some few moments when Miss Stuart recognized some friends of hers in a party of people who had wandered in from the piazza. She excused herself, and as she joined them Mrs. Maynard turned to Helen.

"Don't you want to come up to my room for a few moments, Helen? I am sure that Dorothy would be very glad to see Gladys."

The child jumped instantly down from her chair, her chubby face beaming with eager antic.i.p.ation.

"Gladys has accepted for me," said Helen with an amused smile, and the two made their way upstairs.

"What a lovely view you have!" exclaimed Helen as she dropped into a chair near the open window.

"It is pretty," Mrs. Maynard a.s.sented, pushing open a door which led into the next room.

A beautiful little child sat in the middle of the floor, hugging a big woolly lamb close to her heart.

"Dorothy, will you please come here, and speak to little Gladys Lawrence, who has come to see you?"

At her mother's bidding, Dorothy struggled to her feet, and clutching the lamb tightly in both hands, ran toward the open door. Then she caught sight of Helen, and the big violet eyes were swiftly veiled, and the little head with its tangled ma.s.s of golden curls was hidden in the folds of her mother's skirt. Mrs. Maynard smiled in gentle reproof as she lifted the child's face.

"What a baby, darling! Please be a good little girl and say 'how-do-you-do' to Gladys."

Dorothy still hung back, clinging fast to her mother's hand; but Gladys, who was the most friendly little creature in the world, soon succeeded in overcoming her shyness. Presently they were chattering together as happily as possible, and Dorothy went so far as to produce her box of paper dolls and to dress them for Gladys' benefit.

Mrs. Maynard's face lighted up with sympathetic interest as Helen gave her a graphic account of the week's gayeties. She had known Miss Stuart for several years, and could well understand Helen's desire to make her visit enjoyable. Miss Stuart, bored, might be a very difficult companion.

"I am so glad for you, Helen, dear, that you have had such pleasant times. I wish you would let me feel that I had contributed in a small way toward helping you to entertain Miss Stuart, and, if you would enjoy it, I would love to have you all come over here for the dance on Sat.u.r.day evening. I believe they are to have very good music, and we will arrange to have a pleasant little supper together. My husband will be here, and I expect Mr. and Mrs. Endicott, whom you may remember."

"Yes, indeed, I do, and I know that I can accept for all of us. It will be moonlight, so the drive over will be delightful."

On the way home little else was talked of between the girls but the prospective dance. Miss Stuart expressed herself as very much pleased with the idea, and the plan having received the sanction of her approval, Helen forthwith determined that every arrangement should be as perfect as her careful forethought could make it.

When they reached the manor, the girls were having tea on the upper porch. They joined them at once, and the question of the dance was laid before them.

"Glorious!" exclaimed Nathalie, ecstatically, and her verdict was loudly echoed by the others.

Helen drew a chair up close to the tea-table over which Jean was presiding, and pulling off her gloves smoothed them out on her knee with the palm of her hand.

"I want to consult you in regard to the drive, Jeanie," she said in a lowered tone.

Jean nodded, and leaned across her, to hand a cup of tea to Miss Stuart.

"Nathalie," said Helen, "please give Lillian some of that hot toast."

"Toast and jam!" exclaimed Nan in accents of scorn, as she helped herself generously to both. "What sordid considerations, when there is a _bona fide_ ball in view."

"Leave a slice for me, Nancy," laughed Eleanor. "I must fortify myself if you are going to wax eloquent."

"Stop your nonsense, girls," and Nathalie waved an imperious hand at them. "The question is, how shall we drive over?"

Jean turned to Helen.

"If it is a fine night we might go in the wagonette."