The Motor Maids by Rose, Shamrock and Thistle Part 17

"Hoity-toity-toity-toity," he said in a deep ba.s.s voice.

The old lady turned, too, and looked at the newcomers without surprise,-because English people are never surprised. The girls could see that in her prime she must have been quite like her granddaughter; her tall figure was shrunken small with age, but her nose looked larger because her face had shrunken, too. The eyes were the same deep blue, with a kindly, warm glow. She was dressed in a gray silk poplin with lace bertha and cuffs, and on her white hair she wore a little lace cap.

"Grannie, dear," cried Beatrice, running up and kneeling beside her grandmother, "we've had, oh, such an exciting morning,-such adventures!

I've brought some new American friends home to tea. We will tell you all about what happened when we have had food. Is tea coming?"

"Pray introduce your friends, child," replied the old lady, endeavoring to rise from her chair with the aid of a mahogany stick.

"Miss Campbell," said Beatrice gayly, "and these are Billie, Elinor, Mary and Nancy. This is my grandmother, the d.u.c.h.ess of Kilkenty."

Miss Campbell turned quite pale for a moment. A d.u.c.h.ess? Great heavens!

She would never have consented to come if she had known she was to have tea with a d.u.c.h.ess! She was quite ignorant about t.i.tled people. How was one to address a d.u.c.h.ess? In the dim recesses of her mind it came to her that it was necessary to say "your grace." But how absurd, to this simple little old lady with mild blue eyes! Therefore Miss Campbell merely said:

"It is very kind of you to take us in and treat us with so much hospitality. Your granddaughter insisted on bringing us back to tea. You see, one of my girls fainted in the Abbey and we lost her for a while--"

"Think of it, Grannie, locked all alone in the room with the wax effigies! Wasn't she brave not to have been frightened?"

"Dear, dear," exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess of Kilkenty, "and which one of you had that experience?"

They indicated little Mary, who hung back, flushing crimson at this unusual notice.

"My child," exclaimed the little old lady, sitting down in her chair again, "won't you come and sit beside me? I should like very much to hear you tell the story yourself. You say you fainted and were locked in? Then, what did you do when you came back to consciousness?"

"I think I must have felt as Juliet did," said Mary, "when she waked up in her tomb. For a moment I almost believed I had been laid away somewhere, and then I remembered."

"And then what did you do?"

Mary blushed and hung her head.

"Then I-I prayed," she whispered.

The d.u.c.h.ess of Kilkenty took her hand and pressed it gently.

"May your prayers always be answered so quickly, my child," she said, and sighed.

The others had not heard the conversation between Mary and the d.u.c.h.ess.

Their attention had been attracted by two footmen, whether the same or others, they could not say; they all looked exactly alike. These important personages, however, bore each a silver tray loaded with the tea things. A third footman followed and drew up two mahogany tables on which the trays were placed. And in the midst of this most welcome interruption, for they were almost faint with hunger, the parrot began to scream:

"Tea, tea, tea. I must have my tea. Polly wants her tea."

"Will you be quiet, Polly?" exclaimed Beatrice. "I shall give you your tea in a moment."

"Indeed," said the wise old bird. "Dear me, I'm sorry I _spake_."

There was a general laugh at this and suddenly the company began to feel very much at home. The d.u.c.h.ess, after all, was not a grand, forbidding person, as they had always imagined d.u.c.h.esses were. She was a sweet, simple little old lady not half so fine as her servants, and she seemed most interested in these American visitors. She insisted on hearing all about their motor trips and asked the girls a hundred questions, while they sipped tea and consumed sandwiches and strawberries with clotted cream and cookies, very different from American cookies because they were not sweet.

"Does one carry firearms in America?" she asked Miss Campbell.

"Oh, no," replied Miss Campbell suppressing a smile, "we are not such a wild country as you think. It is unlawful to carry concealed weapons, and of course one would never think of carrying a pistol in one's belt."

In the meantime, Billie was saying to Beatrice:

"Aren't you afraid to invite strangers into your house like this? How do you know we are not-well, say a band of thieves? Cousin Helen chief pirate and all of us a.s.sistant pirates?"

Beatrice laughed.

"What a droll idea," she exclaimed. "Of course you are not in the least like adventuresses; but then I had another very good reason, because, you see, I had heard all about you."

"Heard about us?" they cried, astounded.

"Oh, yes, and I recognized you at once, because Uncle Dodo had only described you to me this morning and I knew quite well I could not be mistaken,-a small blue-eyed lady with white hair and four young girls,-and you are to visit Uncle's place in Ireland with Madame Cortinas, the singer, and maybe I shall be there, too. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Is Lord Glenarm really your uncle?" they asked.

"Yes, he is Granny's second son. We think he's wonderful. He does lots of good. Granny says he has made a stir even if he is so poor."

"Poor" seemed hardly the word to use in connection with the handsome n.o.bleman they had met at the opera, and the young girls exchanged a covert smile.

Mary had drawn her chair into the circle and was listening silently to the conversation. It was all very interesting, very remarkable, like a scene in a play: tea in a beautiful drawing-room with a real d.u.c.h.ess!

But Mary's mind was an inquiring one and she liked to get at the bottom of all puzzling things. Why was it that Beatrice Colchester talked so much about one uncle and never mentioned his brother?

In a pause in the conversation she asked:

"But where is the Duke of Kilkenty?"

Beatrice looked hastily across at her grandmother, who was talking with Miss Campbell. Then she pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head.

"Never ask that question here," she said in a low voice.

Mary hung her head in great embarra.s.sment. It was quite natural to have inquired about the Duke of Kilkenty. But she had always heard that some English families had mysterious secrets hidden away! It was a relief presently when Miss Campbell rose and gave the signal to depart. It was growing late and somehow a gloom seemed to have settled over the place.

The bright room was filled with shadows and the girls had grown remarkably quiet.

How glad they would be to return to their own home-like, pretty lodgings again, where they could slip into dressing-gowns and the neat little maid would bring their dinner up to their sitting-room!

Having paid their respects to the old n.o.blewoman and invited Beatrice to come to see them, they presently left the gray house and turned their faces toward Westminster Chambers and their own cheerful rooms.

CHAPTER XII.-A MEETING ON LONDON BRIDGE.

There were two reasons why Billie and Nancy went out alone to take a walk one afternoon some ten days after their arrival in London.

The others, worn out from sight-seeing, preferred to stay at home and rest. Miss Campbell had a blister on her heel which made her groan aloud every time she took a step. Mary, who was not as strong as her friends, was quite willing to remain at home and write a letter to her mother.

Elinor, also, had reasons of her own for remaining indoors. She had purchased two books on genealogy and an Almanach de Gotha in which she wished to study Irish families of the n.o.bility; and later she was to drink tea with Maria Cortinas and hear some music.