The Fortunes of the Farrells Part 23

Both men looked up critically as she appeared, but neither glance was altogether approving. Her new dress looked too old and staid for so young a girl; moreover, her expression was fretful and worried. As she reached the spot where the two men were seated, Victor came into the hall from the doorway and looked round impatiently.

"Are you ready, Miss Ruth? The carriage has been waiting for some time now."

"Oh, I have been ready for ages! It's Mollie who is the laggard. She has been dressing ever since lunch, and is dressing still. I don't know when she will be finished."

Mr Farrell turned imperiously to the butler.

"Be kind enough to send a message to Miss Mary that I object to having the horses kept waiting. Three o'clock was the hour arranged, and it is already a quarter past. Ask how soon she will be ready!"

The man departed, and there was an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, broken at last by the banging of a door and the sound of racing footsteps. A white-and-blue vision came flying down the staircase, with filmy skirts floating behind, white feathers drooping over the golden hair, a cobweb parasol unfurled, and held triumphantly aloft.

"I'm sorry! It took such ages to fasten, and I had to take my hair down and do it up again to get the hat at the right angle. I wanted to fasten my gloves, to give you the whole effect, parasol and all.

There!" Mollie strutted to and fro, turning her head from side to side like a sleek, self-satisfied pigeon. "How do you like it? Don't you think I look rather--nice?"

The two young men laughed aloud, and Mr Farrell said drily--

"Fine feathers make fine birds! I am glad to see that you have honoured my friends by wearing your fineries for their benefit. Ruth, I presume, prefers to keep hers for another occasion?"

Ruth dropped her eyelids and vouchsafed no reply. There was a little lump in her throat at that moment which would have made it difficult to speak in her usual voice. It was hard to have denied herself for naught, and less than naught, for Mollie's extravagance seemed more to the old man's taste than her own prudence. It was not the first time that the difference in their attire had been the subject of little edged remarks, which had made her bitterly regret the lost opportunity.

Seated in the carriage opposite Victor, she was still further depressed by the fear that he was also comparing her with Mollie, to her own disadvantage; but there was no hint of such a thought in his look or manner. The dark eyes met hers with sympathetic understanding. At every point he deferred to her opinion with a subtle flattery which was inexpressibly soothing to her wounded feelings.

The occupants of the first house on the list were not at home, so a sheaf of cards were left, and the carriage sped on another mile to Number 2, where the family were discovered superintending the arrangements of bedding-out plants round the front lawn. They greeted the visitors with easy cordiality, consulted them on the knotty question of geraniums _versus_ begonias, escorted them round the gardens, and were vociferously reproachful when they refused to stay another half- hour to partake of tea.

As the carriage drove up the drive leading to the third house, a masculine figure was seen rushing to conceal itself behind the bushes, and the visitors had hard work to conceal their smiles when their hostess sent an urgent message to summon her husband from the grounds, and, on hearing that he could not be found, expressed her conviction that he would be woefully disappointed to have missed the pleasure of making their acquaintance.

"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind! I don't feel a bit of a grudge against that fellow," Victor said laughingly, as they drove off once more. "With your permission, I am going to follow his example and make a bolt of it when we get back to the high-road. I shall enjoy the walk home, after being cramped up all afternoon. You will excuse me, won't you?"

"But we are going to the Moat. That's the next house on the list.

Don't you want to see Lady Margot?" cried Mollie, outspoken as usual.

Both girls stared at him in amazement, but there was no sign of embarra.s.sment on the handsome, smiling face.

"Very much, of course, but not enough to face another drawing-room catechism, accompanied by draughts of strong tea. There will be no escape this time, so you must be generous, and let me run for it, like poor Mr Granger! I have been very good and docile, but if you only knew how I am longing for freedom!"

There was no gainsaying such a request, nor, indeed, did either of the girls particularly wish to do so.

They made no objections, therefore, but, putting Victor down at the cross-roads, drove on their way in great good-humour.

The Moat was a picturesque old house, though by no means so imposing as the Court. The man-servant reported that Mrs Blount was not well enough to receive visitors, but that Lady Margot was at home and disengaged; and the visitors were shown into a pleasant, sunny apartment, where Margot herself was seated reading. She looked up apprehensively at the sound of the opening door; but at the sight of the two girls her expression changed, and she came forward to greet them with an eagerness which could not be mistaken.

"This is good of you to come so soon! And I am alone, so we can have a delightful chat all to ourselves. Bring tea, Wilson, please. Do come and sit down, and let me make you comfortable! My aunt is not downstairs to-day, and I was getting so bored with my own society that I am doubly pleased to see you! There are so few girls of my own age in this neighbourhood that I find it rather dull after the rush and bustle of town. It is so good of you to be here at the same time as me!"

"It is very nice for us," responded Mollie brightly; while truthful Ruth hesitated to find some reply which would be at once polite and non- committal. "But isn't it a strange time for you to come to this quiet place, when London is at its brightest and gayest?"

"Ah, thereby hang many tales!" cried Lady Margot, laughing. "The most important is, perhaps, that I am not strong enough to go through a season just now; but I have no intention of being dull even in Raby. We must amuse each other and do all kinds of nice things together. The great lack on my visits, so far, has been to find any other girls with whom I could be intimate; but now that you are here it will be quite different."

"But we are only country-cousins, Lady Margot. You will find that we are very ignorant of the things that have made up your life. We are very poor at home, and have had to do most of our gaieties in imagination," said Ruth; while Mollie gave a little gurgle of laughter, and cried--

"Let's tell her about Berengaria and Lucille!"

Lady Margot looked her curiosity, and, when the nature of the game was explained in detail in Mollie's breezy language, went into peals of delighted laughter, and rocked to and fro in her chair.

"How lovely--oh, how lovely! I do think it is too funny! I must call you Berengaria and Lucille. Do you mind? Such wonderful names! How did you manage to hit on them? I used to imagine, too; and what do you think was my dream? Instead of being a lonely only girl, I was a large family of grown-up sisters, and schoolboys coming home for the holidays, and little dots in the nursery--all in my own little self. You can't imagine how dull it is to be an only girl!"

"No," a.s.serted Ruth doubtfully. "But rather nice to get all the petting and consideration! When you are the eldest of seven children, you are always expected to set an example, and it is very wearing at times. How delightful that you amused yourself 'pretending,' just as we did! That makes quite a bond of union between us!"

"Yes, indeed! But lucky creatures, your dream seems about to come true, while I am as lonely as ever. Your position at the Court is so romantic! You don't mind my speaking about it, do you, because everyone knows, and is so interested in the result? Of course, one of you must be the lucky heir; and then we shall be neighbours, and see each other constantly. Which is it to be--Berengaria, or Lucille?"

"Mollie!" said Ruth.

"Ruth!" said Mollie. "Don't believe her, Lady Margot. She is a wee bit out of favour the last few days, but I haven't a chance beside her. She has the Farrell eyebrows, you see, and the Farrell frown, and poise of the head. When she is sitting in the dining-room, you could tell at once that she was a descendant of the oil-paintings. I often see Uncle Bernard looking from her to them, and he is far more amiable to her than to any of us, as a rule. We all agree that she is far and away the chief favourite."

"Really! You discuss it among yourselves, and come to the same conclusions. How interesting!" said Lady Margot. "And the two men-- your cousins--do they have no chance at all, poor things?" she asked lightly.

"They are not our cousins. They belong to different sides of the house, and we had never met till we came down here. Mr Melland refuses to be considered as a 'candidate,' and is staying only till his ankle is better. Mr Druce,"--Ruth hesitated uncertainly--"he is very nice to Uncle Bernard. They talk together a good deal. Sometimes I think his chance is very good."

"He is certainly second favourite, so far; but we have more than two months still before us. I intend to cut them both out long before then.

May I have one of those dear little scones? I am quite hungry after my drive!" Mollie said, as she in turn was presented with a dainty Worcester cup.

She watched Lady Margot with intent eyes, as she flitted about the room, placing little tables beside her guests for their greater convenience.

"Such a plain dress, and almost no jewellery, and her hair so simply done; but she looks a Lucille through and through, as I should never do, however fine I might be!" she said admiringly to herself.

"We must think what we shall do to amuse ourselves, mustn't we? You have begun your round of dinners already, I hear; but in Raby they are apt to be a trifle too agricultural. All the men talk about their crops at this time of the year, and, as the prospects are generally bad, they get gloomier and gloomier as each course comes on. Mr Druce told me that Mr Early has paid you a visitation, so, if you take his conversation as a sample, you can judge of the combined effect. I don't ask what he talked about, because I know!"

"Yes," murmured Ruth vaguely, while her eye met Mollie's in an involuntary appeal. "Mr Druce told me!"--But Mr Early's call had taken place only three days before, nearly a week after Lady Margot's visit to the Court. "Mr Druce told me!" That meant that Margot had met Victor yesterday or the day before, and had talked with him some time, for the prosy Mr Early would not be an early subject of conversation. Victor often went out riding alone, and there was no reason in the world why he should not call on an old acquaintance. But why make a mystery of it, and avoid the call to-day by an obvious subterfuge? Ruth was very quiet for the rest of the visit, and Lady Margot glanced at her more than once as she chatted with Mollie. When tea was over she came out to the porch to watch their departure.

"_Au revoir_, Berengaria--_au revoir_, Lucille!" she cried gaily, as the carriage drove away; but as she turned from the door, the smile faded from her face, and was replaced by a very thoughtful expression.

"I see--I see it all! Poor pretty thing!" she said tenderly to herself.

"I am sorry for her and for poor Margot, too! Which of us, I wonder, is the more to be pitied?"

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

PREPARING FOR THE GARDEN-PARTY.

Mrs Thornton took counsel with her husband as to the best form of hospitality she could show to the squire's visitors.

"I want to be one of the first to entertain them formally. It is a duty in our position," she explained. "The girls have been to tea several times, and that dear Mollie runs up to the nursery as naturally as if she were at home; but I think we ought to do more. The squire will expect it; and then the question is, dear--what can we do?"

"Just so." The vicar smiled, half amused, half quizzical. "The means at our disposal are distinctly limited. We can't ask them to dinner, because the staff is incapable of cooking and serving an extensive meal."

"And there are only three sherry-gla.s.ses left, and Mary broke the round gla.s.s dish last week--the one I always used for the trifle. And the dinner-service... We really must buy a new dinner-service, Stanford!"

"We really must, Agnes--some time! I think all the objections taken together put the dinner-party out of the question. Would not a somewhat more formal tea--"