Red Rose and Tiger Lily Part 29

"Oh, have you bad news too?" said Hester. "Annie seemed to think you had; she said your face was blotchy, and that Nora had been crying. Oh, Molly dear, Molly dear, how selfish I am; I have been absolutely swallowed up in this dark cloud, and can think of no one but myself. I notice now how red your eyes are, and how sad your mouth. Poor, dear Molly, what is it? Is Nell really ill? Was that why you did not come back with us last night?"

"It isn't Nell," said Molly in a trembling voice; "it's--Hester--it's what we feared. We had a letter from mother this morning, and it's all over--it's all over, Hetty--the Towers is sold."

"And my father is going to marry again," said Hester; "it seems to me as if the world were turning topsy-turvey. Oh, Molly, what are we both to do?"

"Jane Macalister would say that we are not to think of ourselves," said Molly with a wan attempt at a smile, "but somehow I don't feel like following her advice just at present."

"Nor I either," replied Hester; "I never, never in the whole course of my life felt more horrid and wicked, and rebellious, and selfish."

CHAPTER XX.

THE NEW OWNERS.

It is surprising how soon, at least when we are young, the greater number of us get accustomed to things. The news of the sale of the Towers, and of Sir John Thornton's approaching marriage, had electrified the Lorrimers and the Thorntons on Thursday. Had electrified them to such a degree that even the common observances of life seemed queer and out of place. It seemed wrong to eat when one was hungry; inhuman to smile; and even when one was sleepy, it seemed necessary to go to bed with a sort of apology. Nevertheless, the hungry people had to be fed, smiles had now and then to chase away tears, and in youthful slumber sorrow was for a time forgotten.

By Sat.u.r.day life was going on much as usual in the two households. The Lorrimers were not to leave the Towers for six weeks. There was no immediate necessity, therefore, for the younger members of the household to think about moving the pets. Six weeks seemed something like for ever to them. The anxious consultations of the elders were not shared by them. Mother had come home, and mother kissed them just as tenderly as ever at night, and petted them just as much in the morning, and coddled them just as persistently when there was the least sc.r.a.p of anything the matter. Whenever they went away, mother would go with them, and that, after all, was the main thing. In their secret hearts, they became rather excited about the move, the packing, and the new home.

Boris, it is true, sometimes woke at night with a start and a hot remembrance of the clutch the Squire had given his hand when he stood under the oak tree, and Nell sobbed out piteously once or twice, "Oh, father's face, oh, father's face;" but father was not with them and mother was, and the sun rose and set as usual, and the fruit ripened in great plenty, and the pets were all well, and it was holiday time, and mother earth was specially tranquilising and kind. By Sat.u.r.day, Boris, Kitty, and Nell were to all appearance just as they were before, and even the elder members of the family behaved, as Jane Macalister expressed it, "like sensible Christians."

In the Thornton household, too, the first overwhelming shock of Sir John's approaching marriage had pa.s.sed by. Nan had stormed and raged, and flung her arms round nurse's neck, and sobbed herself at last to sleep on her breast, but Nan's pa.s.sion was over now, and she was even a little curious to see what sort of woman Mrs. Bernard Temple was, and what sort of girl Antonia would be. Hester, whether her heart was heavy or light, was forced to attend to many household cares, and Annie was happy once more, for Mrs. Willis had not yet asked her for the ring.

Mrs. Willis had yielded to Hester's strong entreaties to remain at the Grange until Monday. She was deeply interested in the Lorrimers, and was most anxious to help Molly in any way in her power; she was also desirous of seeing Hetty through the difficult ordeal of her first introduction to her future stepmother; she resolved, therefore, at some personal sacrifice, to prolong her visit at the Grange for a few days.

No events less absorbing would have made her forget the ring. The exciting events of Thursday had, however, put it completely out of her head. On Friday, it is true, she did think of it, but Annie was not present at the time, and she now resolved not to trouble herself to have the ring copied, but to buy another present for her ex-pupil.

Annie knew nothing of this intention, but delay had made her bold, and, as usual, she had great faith in her own good luck.

On Sat.u.r.day morning Sir John contributed vastly to the excitement and interest of the party by a certain piece of news which he read aloud to them from a letter he had just received from Mrs. Bernard Temple.

"My dear Hester," he said, looking down the length of the table at his daughter, "did not you once tell me that you had a schoolfellow at Lavender House of the name of Susan Drummond?"

"Sleepy Susy," exclaimed Hester with a smile. "I had almost forgotten her, although she managed to worry me a good deal at school. She was my room-mate for the first couple of terms. Oh, dear, oh, dear, shall I ever forget the trouble we used to have to wake her?"

"She left Lavender House a good many years ago; what of her?" exclaimed Mrs. Willis; "the fact is, I have quite lost sight of her."

"And so have I," said Hester; "frankly, I did not care about remembering her."

"Well, whether you like it or not, you are likely to hear a good deal more of her now," said Sir John, "for Susan's father is the new owner of the Towers, and Mrs. Bernard Temple wants to know if she may bring Susan as well as Antonia to-day, as Susan is naturally most anxious to see her new home. Have we a vacant bedroom, Hester?"

"Oh, yes," replied Hester, "but it seems----"

"What, my dear?"

"Nothing, father--only--but----"

"But me no buts," replied Sir John in a tone of irritation. "Nothing can be more natural than a young girl's wish to see her future home. I shall telegraph to Mrs. Bernard Temple to let her know that we shall be pleased to give Miss Drummond a hearty welcome."

Sir John rose from his chair as he spoke, and a moment later left the room.

"Poor Nora," exclaimed Hester, when the door had closed behind him.

"Susy is certain to say something to hurt her dreadfully, for unless she has tremendously altered, I never saw a creature with less tact."

"We must hope for the best," said Mrs. Willis. "I am rather glad, my dear," she added, "that I am here, for I think Miss Susy will be on her best behaviour in my presence."

"Well, I think it's the most awful thing that ever happened," exclaimed Nan. "Fancy having a sleepy thing like that at the Towers, instead of Nell and Kitty and Boris."

The girls discussed the matter a little further, and then Hester went away to attend to Nora.

The shock of Molly's intelligence had really affected Nora to an almost painful degree. Her nerves had been terribly shaken by her serious fall, and she was so restless and miserable for the first twenty-four hours after the stunning blow had been given to her that the beloved Towers was no longer her home, that a doctor had to be sent for, who ordered her a soothing draught, and said that she ought to be kept extremely quiet.

By this time, however, Nora was not only better, but much interested in the strange new outlook. She had found her life often dull enough in the dear old home--for it was by this term she now invariably spoke of the Towers--she had longed to flutter her little wings in a larger and gayer world--she had fancied the small triumphs which might be hers, and had believed much in the charms of her own pretty face. She had dreamed dreams of herself in society, and felt sure that the fact of her being a Lorrimer of the Towers would insure her a pa.s.sport into any circle. Now, of course, matters would be different, but still the new life must be, at least, more interesting than the old. It would be impossible any longer to have nothing to do in the day except to learn rather old-fashioned lessons under the tutorship of Jane Macalister, to contrive to dress out of almost nothing at all, and to listen for ever to Molly's slow talk about ways and means, and the children's chatter over their pets. Nora looked ahead with interest. She was sorry for Hester, of course, but she thought it would be very delightful to meet Mrs. Bernard Temple and Antonia, and even the news that Susan Drummond was coming, and that Susy's father was now the owner of the Towers, scarcely disturbed her equanimity.

"It's very kind of you to break it to me, Hetty," she said; "but of course I knew that someone had bought the Towers, and why not Mr.

Drummond as well as another?"

"Why not, truly," replied Hester; "I am glad you are so sensible, Nora.

I'll send Annie to you as soon as ever I can. Now I must run away, as there is a great deal to be done."

"How pale you look," said Nora, touched with a feeling of compunction at an indescribable something in Hester's face and voice. "Are you really, really fretting?"

"No, I hope not," replied Hester; "but I am really, really fighting, and that is hard work; now I must be off."

She left the room in a hurry, and as she went away to interview the housekeeper, some tears gathered in her eyes.

"Dear, dear Molly," she murmured to herself; "how very different she is from Nora; oh, how I wish Susy was not going to be settled at the Towers, it seems to be quite the last straw. 'As well Mr. Drummond as another,' says Nora; ah, but she would not say that if she really knew Susy."

The remaining hours which were to intervene before the arrival of the guests pa.s.sed swiftly by. Sir John went alone in the landau to Nortonbury to meet them. An omnibus was sent for the luggage and for Mrs. Bernard Temple's and Miss Drummond's maids. Nan, flushed, excited, and defiant, stood in her white dress on the steps; Hester, also in white, stood by her little sister and held her hand with a firm pressure.

"Keep quiet, Nan--do keep quiet, for my sake," she whispered once in an emphatic voice.

"I'll vent it on Susy Drummond," exclaimed Nan: "she's the safety valve; I'm glad she's coming."

"Here they are," said Hester. She felt herself turning very pale, and laid her other hand on Nan's shoulder. The sound of wheels was distinctly audible, and the next moment the landau with its four occupants bowled rapidly up to the door. Mrs. Bernard Temple was all smiles and bows. She was a graceful, well-preserved woman, handsomely and fashionably dressed. Although the same age as Sir John, she looked years younger. Antonia was a dark-eyed, sallow-faced girl, difficult to say anything about at the first glance, and Susy Drummond was the well-known Susy Drummond of Lavender House. A little taller, a little fatter, a little more sleepy-looking, if that were possible, than she used to be in the old days, but still the Susy whom Hester had detested, and whose departure from the school was hailed with relief by everyone.

Before anyone else could speak she now raised her full, light blue eyes, fixed them on Hester, and drawled out, "Who would have thought of seeing you again, Prunes and Prism?"

Hester ran down the steps accompanied by Nan. There was a confused murmur of greeting and introduction. Mrs. Bernard Temple kissed Hester on her forehead, called her "dear child," and looked into her eyes in a way which made Hester long to shut them, patted Nan on her shoulder and hoped she was a good, obliging little girl, and then, followed by Antonia and Susy, who dropped a succession of wraps the whole way, entered one of the drawing rooms.

"My dear John, what a perfectly _charming_ room," exclaimed Mrs. Bernard Temple, turning to her future husband and glancing down the long room with a critical eye. "Furniture just a _little_ out of date--not enough Chippendale--old-fashioned, but not antique--we'll soon put that right, however. Antonia has a wonderful eye for colour. You see, she has been trained in an atelier in Paris."

The faintest perceptible frown might have been seen between Sir John's eyebrows. He took no special notice of Mrs. Bernard Temple's remark, but walking up the long and exquisitely proportioned room flung open some French windows which led into a flower garden, gay with every imaginable flower. There was a distant and very lovely view from this window.

"I think you will admire the landscape from this window," he said, turning and speaking with an air of great deference to his distinguished guest.

"In one moment, my love," she replied. "Antonia, what do you think of old gold curtains, and one of those dark olive-green papers for the walls? This light decoration is absolutely inadmissible."

"Old gold is quite out of date," replied Antonia, opening her lips for the first time. "I'm sick of old gold, it's not _chic_ now. I'll look through some of my antique designs and sketch my idea of a drawing-room for you presently, mother; now pray attend to Sir John."