The Story Book Girls Part 32

He never spoke with more decision. Mrs. Leighton had reached the point where she could only stare.

Mabel sat down to her task of convincing them. She looked very dainty--almost fragile in the delicate gown of the particular colour of heliotrope which she had at last dared to a.s.sume. A slight pallor which Mrs. Leighton had noticed once or twice of late in Mabel had erased the bright colour which was usual with her. She spoke with a certain kind of maturity which her mother found a little pathetic.

"You see, papa, it's like this. If you go to Jean now, in all probability whenever she sees you she will be as right as the mail, just as the rest of us are when we've been home-sick. Then she will be awfully disgusted that she made so much of it when she finds out what it is, and it won't be coming home like a triumphant prima donna for her to come now, will it? She will fall awfully flat, don't you think? And Cuthbert and Lance and you, papa, will go on saying that girls are no good for anything. You will take all the spirit out of us at last."

"She mustn't go on being ill in London," said Mrs. Leighton. "We can't stand the anxiety."

"Let me go up for a week or two, and see her started," pleaded Mabel.

"I've been there, you know, and know a little about it, and she would have time to feel at home. If I find her really ill, I could send for you. Jean wouldn't feel an idiot about it if I went up just to see her started."

Then Mabel fired her last shot.

"It would be good for me, mummy. I've been so stuck lately. Won't you let me go?"

Something in Mabel's voice touched her mother very much.

"Won't Robin miss you?" she asked in a teasing, but anxious way. "You don't tell us, Mabel, whether you want Robin to miss you or not. And that's one of the main things, isn't it?"

Mabel started, and her eyes grew wide with a fear of what they might say next.

"It's all right, Mabs! Don't you worry if you don't want to talk about it," said her father cheerily. There was a reserve in all of them except Jean which kept them from expressing easily what they were not always willing to hide.

"Oh," said Mabel, "I think I did want to, but n-never could. I don't think I want to be c-coupled with Robin any more. It was fun when I was rather s-silly and young, but it's different now."

She looked at her father quite sedately and quietly.

"I think Robin thinks a good deal more of Isobel and I'm glad," she said quite determinedly. "The fact is, I was sure I would be glad if something like that happened. I was sure before Isobel came."

Mr. Leighton patted her shoulder.

"Thank you, my dear, for telling us. You're just to do as you like about these things. Difficult to talk about, aren't they? Remember, I don't think much of Robin now, or that sister of his. They could have arranged it better, I think. Never mind. I shall be glad to have you find worthier friends." He patted her shoulder again, and looked over at Mrs. Leighton. She was surrept.i.tiously wiping her eyes. Mabel sat strong and straight and rather radiant as though a weight were lifted.

"I don't think," said Mr. Leighton to his wife in a clear voice, "I don't think that either you or I would be of greater service to Jean than Mabel could be! Now, do you, my dear, seriously, do you?" He kept an eye on her to claim the answer for which he hoped.

"I don't think so, John," said Mrs. Leighton.

"Then could you get ready for the 8.50 to-morrow morning?" asked Mr.

Leighton of Mabel.

Mabel hugged him radiantly for answer.

"I don't know how I can live without two of you, even for a week," he said. "But then, I won't be selfish. Make the most of it and a success of it, and I shall always be glad afterwards that you went."

It was no joke to have to prepare in one evening for a visit to London.

Elma's heart stopped beating when she heard of the arrangement.

"Oh, Mabs, and I shall be left with that--bounder!"

The word was out.

Never had Elma felt so horrified. Years she had spent in listening to refinements in language, only to come to this. Of her own cousin too!

"Oh, Mabs, it's shameful of me. And it will be so jolly for Jean. And you too! Oh, Mabs, shall I ever go to London, do you think?"

"You go and ask that duck of a father of ours--now--at present--this instant, and he will promise you anything in the world. No, don't, dear. On second thoughts he needs every bit of you here. Elma! Play up now. Play up like the little brick you are. You and Betty play up, and I'll bless you for ever. Don't you know I'm skipping all that racketing crowd. I'm skipping Robin. I'm skipping Sarah! Think of skipping the delectable Sarah!" She shook her fist in the direction of the Merediths' house. "And what is more, dear Elma, I am skipping Isobel."

She said that in a whisper.

They had all the feeling that Isobel was a presence, not always a mere physical reality.

Elma had not seen Mabel in such a joyous mood for weeks.

"And it's also because I feel I can soon square up Jean, and make her fit," said Mabel; "so that I'm of some use, you see, in going. I'm quite sure Jean is only home-sick after all."

She trilled and sang as she packed.

"Won't you be home-sick yourself, Mabel?" asked Elma anxiously.

"I have to get over that sooner or later. I shall begin now," said Mabel.

"Won't it be beastly in that girls' club?" wailed Betty.

"Oh, I'm sure it will," quivered Mabel. She sank in a heap on the floor.

"Whatever possessed Jean to go off on that wild chase, I can't think,"

cried Betty.

"I know," said Elma.

"What?"

"Isobel."

The gate clicked outside and there were voices. Betty crept to the window-sill and looked over. Mabel and Elma stood silent in the room.

Crunching footsteps and then Isobel's voice, then Robin's, then "Good-night."

Mabel, with a smothered little laugh, flung a blouse into her trunk.

"Isn't it ripping, I'm going to London," said she.

CHAPTER XVIII

"Love of our Lives"