The Fortunes of the Farrells Part 19

The next day neither Ruth nor Victor offered to join the riding-party, though they had not any settled plans for the forenoon. Mollie had told her sister of Jack's invitation of the evening before, and Ruth was too proud to make a third unless she were specially asked to do so. She strolled into the grounds to interview the gardener about sending in an extra supply of plants and flowers to beautify the house for the expected callers, while Victor shut himself in the library to write letters.

Jack looked well on horseback, as tall, upright men always do, and Mollie glanced at him admiringly, and thought regretfully of her new habit, which was even now in the tailor's hands. It did seem hard that she should have to wear a shabby, ill-fitting coat while he was here, and that the new one should come home almost as soon as he had departed.

Her sigh of self-commiseration brought his eyes upon her, and he sighed in echo as he cried--

"Last times are melancholy occasions! I hate them, even when the experience has not been altogether pleasant. There is a sadness about turning over the leaf and ending another chapter of life. This chapter has been a very short one, but uncommonly jolly. Don't think that I haven't appreciated it, because I am going away. I have enjoyed every hour of this week, and when I am back on the treadmill I shall think longingly of you all many times over. I hope we may often meet again."

"It is not very likely, is it? You will go your way, and we will go ours. Ruth and I have never been in London, nor you in Liverpool. We may all live until we are old and bald, and never meet again," said Mollie dismally; whereupon Jack looked at the shining plaits which were coiled at the back of her head, and laughed rea.s.suringly.

"I can't imagine you bald, nor old either, and I expect to see you many times over before you have the chance of changing. The Chosen, whoever he or she may be, must surely have the good manners to invite the rest of us to visit a house which might have been our own; and I have a special claim, for by retiring from the lists I increase your chances.

Personally, I have made up my mind to spend many holidays here--shooting and riding, and enjoying myself generally. I hope you won't object, if you happen to be the chatelaine?"

"Ah, but I shan't! I have no chance against the other two; but I also intend to spend my holidays here, and I tell Ruth she must send home hampers every week. It has always been my ambition to get hampers, and she could send such splendid ones from the Court--game and poultry and eggs, and nice out-of-season fruits and vegetables, which would be such a help in the housekeeping! I am afraid sometimes that we count too much on Uncle Bernard's fancy for Ruth's eyebrows, for if he changed his mind and left everything to Mr Druce, it would be a terrible disappointment. And there are three months before us still. He may change a dozen times yet."

"I think most probably he will. Better stick to your resolution, to have a good time, and not bother your head about the future. I shall be most anxious to know how things go. Druce has promised to send me a line now and then. Will you jog his memory in case he forgets?"

Mollie promised, all the more readily that Victor's letter would naturally bring a return, which would serve to bridge over the separation. It seems curious to remember that little over a week ago she had not known of Jack Melland's existence. He had made but a brief appearance upon the scene, but it would not be easy to forget him, or to fill the vacant place.

Both riders relapsed into silence as they neared home; but, as they clattered into the stable-yard, Jack turned towards Mollie with rather a forced air of triumph, and cried--

"Do you remember your warning, Miss Mollie, that Fate was stronger than will? Ever since we set out this morning the words have been ringing in my ears, and I have been expecting some accident to happen which would keep me here in spite of myself. I have looked for it at every turn of the road as if it were bound to come."

Mollie shivered nervously.

"Oh, how horrid! I am glad you did not tell me. I should have been nervous, too, for I am superst.i.tious about presentiments. They so often come true."

"Well, this one at least has not. Here we are safe and sound, and all risk is over!" cried Jack, dropping his reins, and jumping lightly from the saddle without waiting for the groom to come to the horse's head.

He was anxious to a.s.sist Mollie to dismount before Bates came up; but even as his feet touched the ground he slipped, staggered uncertainly for a moment, and sank to the ground with a groan of pain. The groom rushed forward; Mollie leapt inelegantly but safely to the ground, and bent over him with anxious questioning. His face was drawn with pain, and he bent forward to grip his foot with both hands.

"My--ankle! I slipped on something, or came down on the side of my foot. I don't know how it was done; but I've given it a bad wrench, if nothing worse. You'll have to cart me up to the house, Bates. I'm afraid it's hopeless to try to walk."

"No, indeed, sir! Don't you trouble. I've got an old bath-chair stored away in the stables. We'll lift you into that in no time, and take you up as easy as possible."

He turned off as he spoke, and Jack and Mollie were left alone. For a moment she stood silently by his side; then their eyes met, and he said wearily--

"Kismet! Fate is too much for me. For better or worse, Miss Mollie, it is evidently ordained that I must stay on at the Court!"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

NEW EXPERIENCES.

The village doctor came to doctor Jack Melland's damaged ankle, and the patient fumed and fretted beneath his old-fashioned treatment.

"Bandaging me and laying me up by the heels for weeks at a time; it's folly!" he declared angrily. "The man is twenty years behind the times.

If I were in town I should have had one of those Swedish fellows to ma.s.sage it, and be about in half the time. Just my luck to go in for an accident in a place where one can't get proper attention!"

"But you groan if anyone comes near your foot; wouldn't it hurt dreadfully much to have it ma.s.saged?" Mollie asked.

Whereupon the invalid growled impatiently--

"Hurt? Of course it would hurt! What has that to do with it, pray?"

"Lots," returned Mollie, unabashed. "I should think so, at least, if it were my ankle. I can't endure pain."

"I'm not a girl," growled Jack the ungracious, between his teeth.

There was no denying the fact that he did not make an agreeable invalid.

In the first realisation of his accident he had meekly bowed his head to Fate; but ever since he had, figuratively speaking, kicked against the p.r.i.c.ks, and repaid the kindness of his companions by incessant grumblings and complaints. He hated having to give up his own way; he hated being tied to a sofa and a bath-chair; he resented offers of help as if they had been actual insults, and hindered his recovery by foolhardy attempts at independence.

"How would you like to be an invalid for life?" Mollie asked him severely after one of these outbursts. "There was a young man in mother's district, every bit as strong and big as you, and a sack of something fell on his back while they were trying to haul it up into a warehouse. He was taken to the hospital, and they told him that he would never walk again, never even sit up again. As long as he lived he would be a helpless cripple. And he was just going to be married, too!"

"Well, I'm not, thank goodness!" cried Jack bluntly. "Why do you tell me such gruesome stories? My own troubles are quite enough just now. I don't want to hear any more horrors."

"It was just to distract your mind from yourself that I did tell you.

Once upon a time I met a man who read me a beautiful lecture upon the dangers of being selfish and self-engrossed. I'll tell you his very words, if you like. They made a deep impression upon me at the time,"

said Mollie naughtily. But instead of being amused, Jack was only irritated afresh.

In these first days of invalidism Mollie's influence was the reverse of soothing, for Jack was not in the mood to be teased, and if his inner determination could have been put into words it would have been that he objected to be cheered up, refused to be cheered up, and insisted upon posing as a martyr; therefore, it followed that Ruth's gentle ministrations were more acceptable than her sister's vigorous sallies.

If he could have seen again the Mollie of whom he had caught a glimpse on Sunday evening, Jack would have chosen her before any other companion; but, as she had made place for a mischievous tease, he preferred to look into Ruth's lovely anxious eyes, and to dilate at length upon his symptoms to her sympathetic ear.

Mr Farrell's behaviour at this critical juncture did not throw oil upon the troubled waters. He took care that Jack should have every attention, and inquired as to his progress with punctilious regularity; but he plainly considered a sprained ankle a very trivial affair, which, needless to say, did not coincide with the invalid's views of the case; moreover, he absolutely refused to believe that the accident was responsible for keeping Jack at the Court.

"It is only right to tell you, sir, that I had finally made up my mind that I must return home to-day, as I could not agree with your conditions," Jack informed him on their first interview after the doctor had paid his visit; whereupon the old man elevated his eyebrows with that air of ineffable superiority which was so exasperating, and said--

"And I, on the contrary, had made up my mind that you should stay. It is satisfactory to me that the question is decided in my favour."

"By an accident, sir. By an accident only. If I'd been able to move--"

Mr Farrell held up his hand with a deprecatory gesture.

"In that case I should have called your attention to certain arguments which would have brought about the same result. Believe me, my dear Jack, it would have made no difference."

Jack's face flushed angrily. He forgot Mollie's entreaty, forgot his own promise, and answered hotly--

"I cannot imagine any arguments that could keep me here against my will.

As soon as I can get about again I must return to my work. This accident is only delaying my departure for a few weeks longer."

"So!" Could anything be more aggravating than that little bow and smile which accompanied the word. "In a few weeks, my dear Jack, many things may happen; therefore, it is superfluous to discuss the subject at present. When the time arrives I shall be ready to meet it."

He turned and left the room, while Jack raged in helpless fury upon the sofa. It was insufferable to be treated as if he were a boy who could be ordered about against his will. When John Allen Ferguson Melland said a thing, he _meant_ it, and not all the old men in the world should move him from it, as Bernard Farrell would find out to his cost before many weeks were past.

For three whole days Jack's ill-temper continued, and, like most angry people, he punished himself even more than his companions, refusing to sit in the drawing-room to see callers, and insisting on remaining all day long in a dull little room at the back of the house. He grew tired of reading. His head ached with the unusual confinement; just because he was unable to move he felt an overpowering desire for half a dozen things just out of reach, and the day stretched to an interminable length. On the fourth morning depression had taken the place of ill- temper, and he was prepared to allow himself to be petted and waited upon, when, to his dismay, Victor came to his bedroom with the news that the girls had gone up to town, accompanied by Mrs Thornton.

"They said, as you preferred to be alone it would be best to keep to their plans," said Victor cruelly. "I am off for a ride, and shall probably make a day of it, and lunch _en route_. I was thinking of going to Barnsley. It is quite a decent-sized place. Would you like me to try if I could find a ma.s.seuse for your foot?"

Jack looked up sharply; but Victor looked as he usually did. His face was set and expressionless, as it always was when his eyes were hidden.